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Bonnie - Chapter Ten (M+f, inc, Ff, bd)
by Friar Dave (friar_dave@*mhbbs.com)
Contents copyrighted by the author, 1991
***
"You mean, besides what I saw?"
I nodded.
Kate smiled. "Well, I wish it had been me the second time, but it
wasn't. Seeing the three of you just resting like that got me so wet
that I went in and got Mark started again."
"I heard the fire siren."
She smiled. "Just thinking about it makes me want to go in and get his
hose again. But he's beat." She sighed. "I didn't know Dolores was
into climbing trees."
"Me, neither." Assuming it has been Dolores -- and not Penny. "Anyhow,
I have an idea." I recounted my conversation with the gardener and
told her my plan.
"How well do you know Miguel?"
"Pretty well. He's a good man and reliable. Bright, too. I trust him
with the keys when I'm not here."
Kate nodded. "Hmmmm...Okay." She looked hesitant for moment, then:
"Dan, I want to know something, but I won't be offended if you don't
want to answer."
"Shoot."
"Well, I keep thinking about Bonnie and Irene together with you and --
well, I've always had a fantasy about being with a woman and a man."
"I bet that wouldn't break Mark's heart."
"That's the tough part," she admitted. "I don't think I could stand
watching him with another woman."
"That's understandable."
"Would you ever consider, maybe, uh, you and me and another wo--"
"No way. Kate, you're married to my cousin, the guy who was always
there for me when I was a kid. And if you want to be with a woman, why
does there have to be a man there?"
She blushed. "Because my fantasy is to be making love to a sexy woman
while she gets reamed with a huge penis. I mean, you wouldn't be
making it with me, really, but with her, and I --"
I took her face in my hands. "Kate, if I were in that situation, I
wouldn't be able to keep my hands, lips or anything else off you. You
saw the effect you had on me. No way, cousin-in-law."
She gave me a rueful smile, then clasped my hands with hers and turned
her head rapidly from one to the other, planting little kisses in my
palms.
"Okay," she said, standing. "I had to ask. No hard feelings." She
glanced down at my crotch. "Sorry. No pun intended."
She walked down off the porch. I sat there with my coffee cooling in
its mug and my dick throbbing in my jeans. The sun was dropping from
its midday high point. Mark had taken the Subaru into the town to pick
up some things. Bonita and Irene had taken their beach things down the
road for some sun and splashing (and to incite lust in men -- and
women -- for miles around). I was just wondering about Penny and
Dolores when the squirt came padding across the grass from the
driveway. She was wearing her beach wrap and carrying her beach bag,
and she looked sullen.
"Hi, Muffin!"
She gave a listless wave and changed course. She sat heavily in the
Adirondack chair next to mine and pouted.
"What's the matter?"
"Dolores. A couple of guys were playing frisbee down the beach, so of
course she had to play with them, and then she went and sat with them
and left me there like a lump."
"Didn't they invite you?"
She gave me one of those Boy-Are-You-Dumb looks. "These were like
college guys. They don't have any interest in a kid like me."
"Their loss."
She was silent, fuming, for a few seconds. Then, very seriously:
"Uncle Dan?"
"Yes, Muffin?"
"You really like Irene, don't you?"
"I think she's very attractive."
"But it's more than that, isn't it?"
I sighed. "Maybe. I'm not sure. I want to get to know her better -- a
lot better."
"And you think Bonita is very pretty and sexy, too, don't you?"
What was this kid getting at? "Yes, I do."
"And Dolores?"
"We already talked about that."
"But me -- ?"
"Penny, I think you're gorgeous. And sometimes you're so sexy that you
scare me. But we talked about that, too."
"If you and I were marooned on a desert island -- "
"We'd play Scrabble until you were 17."
She looked down at her hands for a moment, then brightened: "And I'd
beat you two out of three."
"You and what supercomputer?"
"Oh? Have you forgotten what happened the last time you began running
off at the mouth?"
I hadn't, but at least she'd stopped dropping her two-ton hints.
Besides, I hadn't had a good game in a long time. "Yeah? Well, you get
changed, and I'll assemble the Game of Your Doom."
"Ten minutes, and you're cold meat!"
"Oh, yeah?" I jutted my jaw at her.
She stood -- head now even with mine -- and jutted her jaw right back
at me so we were nearly nose-to-nose. "Yeah!" She twinkled, turned and
twitch-twitch-twitched off the porch. I went into the house for the
game box. I took it and a pitcher of iced tea out to the picnic table,
which was in the shade of the old twin-trunk oak that dominated the
yard.
Kate came out with Penny. Both of them were glowing, and they yammered
animatedly till they got within earshot.
"You're making a big mistake, Dan. This kid has the Scrabble
Dictionary memorized." Kate was wearing an outlandishly oversized
straw hat, held in place with a loud scarf. She was wearing a yellow
tank-top and jeans. She honored the jeans with her presence. But
braless in the tank-top, Kate was a walking pheromone.
Penny had her hair pulled up into a topknot, with the excess tumbling
down the back of her head. In her white shorts and NKOTB tee-shirt,
she looked like the cute, bright kid I wanted her to remain...at least
for the immediate future.
"I'm going to wander on down to the beach and collect some shells."
"You're going to collect more than that in those clothes."
"Get your motor running, fella?"
"Have a nice walk, Kate."
"Yeah, Mom -- scram. I've got some cooking to do?"
"Cooking?" Kate asked.
"Yeah. I have to cook someone a humble pie and feed it to him."
"Ha!" quoth I.
"Have fun. See you later." Kate sashayed off as Penny and I drew
letters. I started, with STIRRUP. Which I thought was pretty good.
Until she started on the triple-word bonus and entered REQUIRE,
tagging it to the S in STIRRUP. She had the triple, she had the Q and
she had the 50-point bonus for using all seven letters.
It was going to be a long afternoon.
* * *
"Hi, Uncle Dan," Bonnie said brightly.
I grunted.
Irene sidled up to me, pressing her hip into me. "Hi, Uncle Dan."
"'lo."
"Wow, is he grumpy or what?" Bonnie complained.
"You'd be grumpy, too, if you were a professional writer and just got
beat four-straight at Scrabble," Penny chimed in. "By a kid." She was
sitting in the bay window, finishing Gravity's Rainbow. "His spelling
is dreadful."
"Didn't anyone have the decency to warn you about her?" Bonnie asked.
"Mom tried to, but would he believe her? Nooooooo." Penny still hadn't
looked up from the book, but she was grinning fiendishly. Little
monster.
"Where's Mom and Dad?"
"They're out by the pool," I explained. "You guys game for some great
seafood for dinner?" They were, and their enthusiasm grew as I
explained about the fresh-catch restaurant over by the Bay. "My
treat."
"Where's Dolores?" Bonnie asked.
Penny made a rude noise.
"She's with some new friends," I explained.
Bonnie's eyebrows went up.
We left the house around 5:30, me and three lovely females. With
Dolores's prolonged absence, Kate and Mark had decided to skip the
dinner and wait for her. Dolores was going to get a lecture about
responsible behavior when she came in -- namely, the responsibility of
letting her folks know where she was going to be.
Not that Kate or Mark would miss the added time alone.
The dinner was delightful. We sat on the open deck, looking west over
an inlet as the sun set. The food was perfectly prepared, the view was
spectacular, the conversation was lively. Irene and Bonnie knew Penny
well enough to know they didn't have to pretend a kid was present, so
we talked about anything and everything: politics, the recent Iraqi
invasion of Kuwait, movies, books, travel...everything but sex.
Irene's travels had burnished her with a sophisticated appreciation
for the ambience and food. Bonnie was, by nature, a sponge, soaking up
every smallest aspect of the experience. Penny was just awash in
pleasure at being treated like the grownup she was (between her ears).
Even folks who had only a nodding acquaintance with me made an excuse
to come over and exchange pleasantries. I wasn't delighted at the
interruptions, but I certainly understood. Bonnie was wearing a simple
black dress that came to mid-calf. It was sleeveless and loose. And it
was slit up the side almost to her hip, and the overlapping lapels
were trusted to benign winds and her conscientious posture. Every time
she leaned too far or a breeze came up, an unwonted amount of taut,
abundant 19-year-old Bonita was on display. With her dark, flashing
eyes and abundant hair blowing loose in the wind, she was an instant
turn-on for anyone who glanced her way.
Irene's white cotton blouse and sensible white skirt, with a bright
green oversized scarf as a waist wrap, were the perfect reproof --
because all were lightweight and became translucent as the sun settled
lower. In essence, she was using a star -- the Sun -- as an accessory
to highlight her perfect body. Every time she turned sideways to look
out at a flight of geese or an incoming boat or a distant jetliner
soaring high up over the thin cirrus, I could see her wonderful
breasts in perfect, silhouetted profile through that blouse. It took
great self-control not to leap at her over the table.
And those were the times when Penny would give me the business.
Sitting there in her demure-but-neat red-and-white striped blouse and
her fashionably loose blue shorts, Penny would see my eyes fix on
Irene's loveliness (and, maybe, spot my tongue hanging out). And as
soon as she knew I'd seen her watching me, she'd do something cute --
like lick the straw in her Coca-Cola, or slide her hand suggestively
up and down on her glass, all the time giving me an oh-so-coy look up
from under her eyelashes.
Yeah, I could understand the guys suddenly remembering me and coming
over for introductions. Even the ones whose names I couldn't remember
(if I'd ever known them).
And, too, matters were not helped by the little footsie touches from
Bonnie and Irene and sometimes both. I could only imagine what they
were doing with each other -- but I didn't dare dwell on that or I'd
never be able to stand and leave the table.
By the time the Sun had been set for an hour or so and our deserts
(not nearly as good as the rest of the meal) were finished, Irene and
Bonnie were just a wee bit tipsy. It never occurred to any of the
staff to ask for Bonnie's age (two years under the minimum in New York
State). She and Irene had been happily indulging themselves in white
wine and were noticeably at ease, though not sloppy. Penny and I, of
course, were stone-cold sober. As the driver, I'd allowed myself only
the one glass of (mediocre) chablis with dinner, followed by Saratoga
water and then coffee.
Penny was starting to get restless; so was I. Bonnie and Irene were
trying to outdo each other with double-entendres. I put up with it and
waited for my credit card and receipts to return, resigned to
listening to the increasing silliness -- until Penny suddenly signed
in with: "You two should knock it off. We have a very big Dutch boy
here who might want to plug a couple of leaks."
When that registered on the second level, they quieted, and I stared.
I guess none of us had ever guessed that Penny even suspected they
were lovers.
I remembered that shadow in the tree and wondered...
It took about a half-hour to get back to the house. We pulled into the
driveway about ten. I offered my sturdy, manly arm to our tipsy
twosome, but they insisted they would be along "presently," in
Bonnie's words.
"Come on, uncle Dan. Don't you know when your presence is not
desired?" Penny grabbed my hand and tugged me through the darkness
toward the house. I looked back over my shoulder and saw just the
silhouette of Bonnie and Irene in a heated clinch.
Broing!
But that changed as soon as Penny and I entered the house. Mark and
Kate were sitting the living room. I could smell the booze from Mark
halfway across the room; I didn't need to see the stuporous look on
his face.
Kate looked worried. She met us halfway from the door.
"Dolores isn't back. She hasn't called."