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Bonnie - Chapter Seven (M+f, inc, Ff, bd)
by Friar Dave (friar_dave@*mhbbs.com)
Contents copyrighted by the author, 1991
***
Dolores was spending more effort writhing -- to imprint her curves on
my flesh -- than trying to dunk me. Penny tried the butt-baring trick
on Dolores with a predictable lack of response from her oversexed
sister. And Irene wasn't so much trying to bring me down as drive me
crazy with accidental gropings.
When Bonnie wrapped her arms around my waist and heaved, Penny tried
to pull her away, then tried unsnapping Bonita's bra -- which Bonnie
ignored. And I have no doubt that Irene's floating bra was the result
of keeping her vow of "teasing unmercifully."
But in the end, I said loudly, "I give! I give!" and let myself be
pulled forward into the water. Irene gave my cock one last, relentless
tug through my trunks before swimming away and Dolores began humping
her pussy mound against my back as Bonita swam away, topless, under
the water. I finally shrugged Dolores off me and stood.
"Run for it, Muffin," I told Penny quietly. She nodded and eased her
way to the side of the pool.
"Ladies," I announced, just as a topless and pantyless Dolores stood,
grinning lewdly in front of me. "Ladies, I lied." I grabbed Dolores
around the waist and hurled her shrieking into the deep end, then
grabbed Bonita around the waist and did the same. Irene, standing in
the neck-deep area, registered my deception just as I reached her.
Before she could react, I held her before me, kissed her deeply on the
lips, then flicked her backwards to join the other two. Then I hurried
out of the pool. Penny was waiting by the entrance to the pool
enclosure. Her eyes sparkled.
"I saw that," she said, half-accusing, half-teasing.
"Wanna join them?" I nodded toward the pool.
"If I get a kiss, too."
"Grrrrr."
"Either you kiss me or... "
"Or what?"
"Piggyback to the house!"
I laughed and crouched. She climbed aboard and behaved herself almost
all the way to the house. Whereupon she kissed the back of my neck,
and added a little tongue-work for good measure.
I let her down carefully and turned. "You are incorrigible," I
pronounced, shaking my finger at her menacingly.
She made as if to bite said finger and said, "And you, Uncle Dan, are
fully aroused."
I went upstairs to shower and change, carefully locking the door.
Nonetheless, 10 minutes into my shower, I heard a voice whisper
through the door, "Want me to do your back?" I thought it might be
Bonita or Irene, but it could have been Dolores or even Penny.
"Scat, poltergeist!" I hissed and turned up the cold water.
When I came downstairs 20 minutes later, Penny was on the deck, a bag
of Beach Stuff next to her. "Where's the rest of the brigade?"
"I think Irene and Bonnie are changing clothes."
"And Dolores?'
"Here I am!"
I turned. Dolores was again semi-wearing her swimsuit and had a big
towel wrapped sarong-style around her tight hips. She was wearing
sandals and carrying a beach bag. She had on sunglasses and a huge-
brimmed straw hat. She was wearing a pale lip gloss that accentuated
the fullness of her mouth. She looked like an ad for 20 years in
Attica for statutory rape. "Ready, shrimp?"
"It's about time!" Penny said, bouncing up. "Let's head for the
beach." She motioned. I bent, tense, and then relaxed as she gave me a
kiss on the cheek. "See you later, Unk."
Dolores, of course, demanded equal time and played her role to the
hilt: a chaste peck on the cheek and, "See you later...stud."
They were just leaving when the gardening crew arrived. I pay them to
come out once a week and do the trim and clip routine. They also
fertilize as necessary and mulch when it's time.
As they turned to watch Dolores, I could tell all three were thinking
of fertilization.
"Good morning, Meester Dan."
"Good morning, Mister Hector." We grinned at each other. It was a
family operation, all Mexican, and they insisted on calling me Mister
Dan, so I insisted on calling them Mister Hector, Mister Miguel and
Mister Ed (he didn't like Eduardo and laughed heartily when I
explained about the old TV show). Ed was Miguel's father.
"Very pretty. They are your, uh, nieces?" I had a neighbor a half mile
up the road, toward the beach, who frequently entertained a flock a
"nieces"; some of them might even have been of legal age.
I laughed. "They call me 'uncle,' but they're really my second
cousins. Their folks and a friend are staying with me this weekend."
"I think that maybe in a couple of years, one of them could stay here
without mama."
"They grow up fast. She is only 15 now, but when she's 19...?"
He nodded. "I thought she had more years. Perhaps I should tell
Miguel" -- his nephew -- "not to dream too much."
I smiled. "As you see fit, but she is smart for her years."
"Ah, such a beautiful day."
I went back into the house and he turned to his brother and nephew. In
a few minutes, I heard the mower mowing, the trimmer trimming and the
unique sound of electric shears pruning away. I set about running the
dishwasher, then gathered loose laundry -- mostly towels and some of
my clothes -- for a run in the basement washing machine. While the two
mechanical slaves chugged away, I inventoried the larder, making up my
shopping list.
Kate strolled in 20 minutes later, a sack of fresh herbs in one hand.
It's about a two-mile walk to the farmer's market, a third of it on an
unshaded road, so she was a little damp. I gave her a rundown on where
her family and my fantasy girl were. When I told her Bonnie and Irene
were "changing clothes," her eyebrows went up -- and now that I
thought of it, it *had* been a long time for a change of clothes --
but almost immediately, they emerged from the bedroom, looking
conspiratorial. Bonita must have passed some sort of signal to her
stepmother, because she and Kate abruptly were sitting on the banquet
in the bay window, murmuring.
Irene was wearing a bathing suit bottom and a midriff-baring cutoff
tee-shirt and, quite obviously, nothing else. She poured herself a cup
of coffee from the carafe and seemed about to speak when Hector
knocked on the screen door.
He nodded past my shoulder at Irene. "I think it's a good thing we're
finished," he said.
I grinned. "And I have three more days of this to endure."
"Such suffering. It is possible that Miguel must return later to
finish clearing out the brush in the back of the yard. I explained to
him about your guests, but he is only 16 and you know how much a young
man likes to do his job well."
"I quite understand. He would be most welcome. He is a good man. I
will be taking my cousins to dinner tonight, but I would not be
surprised if Dolores -- the 15-year-old -- preferred to stay home. You
know how young women of that age are."
"Yes, young people can be so moody."
"But feel free to have Miguel come by to finish his work around six or
so."
He smiled and nodded, and they were gone.
Mark, Kate, Penny and Irene didn't know it yet, but we were going to
dinner. Dolores was going to have to fend for herself. I hoped it
would sate her lech. This might work out after all, I thought --
erroneously.
Irene came up to me and asked for a tour of the grounds. Who was I to
refuse? I led her out on the sundeck and began showing her all the
little touches of the yards -- the hidden bird feeder, the warren
where the hares' kits were happily growing, the tomato patch with its
useless scarecrow. I kept sneaking glances at her tits and, when she
bent over one tomato plant, her ripe ass.
She turned to me there and excused herself. "Too much coffee," she
said and scurried for the house. I shrugged and went out to check the
pool and see if a cleaning was in order. Then I heard what her younger
ears had picked up sooner: Kate's wails. Mark was up. Probably awake,
too. Which meant that Bonnie and Irene --
Broing!
I spun and strode quickly toward the house, I started searching while
the ululating cries from the upstairs bedroom grew and waned. I
checked Bonnie and Irene's room: nothing. Penny's and Dolores's: zip.
Outdoors? Seemed unlikely, as Bonnie didn't know the grounds well
enough to suggest a rendezvous, and there was too much chance my tour
would stumble upon her. Basement workshop? Maybe, but a long shot.
Of course.
I crept barefoot up the stairs. I could hear Kate's choking cries of
pleasure and Mark's grunts of effort all the more clearly. I stepped
into my bedroom, expecting to find my fantasy come true...but the big
bed was empty. I was about to start searching the grounds when I heard
a soft sound of pleasure from the walk-in closet.
I opened the doors wide.
Bonnie sat Indian-fashion, face turned up and tongue lapping happily
at the drooling cunt of Irene, who stood with knees bent and spread,
straddling her.
Irene turned heavy-lidded eyes on me. "Oh! We've -- oh! -- been
discovered! Oh!"
"Alright you two -- out of the closet and into the sheets!"