Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: redragon@interserv.com
Subject: Bonnie  (no sex) [1/3]
Date: 13 Nov 1995 01:12:21 GMT

Editor's note: This seems to be the beginning of a larger work, to
which these three parts serve as an introduction.

			       Bonnie
			       Part One

	I invited Mark, my cousin, to bring his family out to my
summer place on Long Island for a weekend. He hesitated, saying he had
to arrange a sitter for the younger kids. I told him I expected them
to come, too. I had plenty of room and it would be good to have some
youngsters making a racket in the place. It was too big and empty for
a forty-year-old guy who liked kids, and the house and grounds demanded
the patter of little feet busily raising hell.

	Let's get one thing straight: I'm not crazy about Mark, who's
five years older than me. He's okay, and sometimes fun, but he's prone
to self-pity. Still, he's family and I remembered more than a few
times - when I was a loner kid - when Mark went out of his way to pal
around with me. Now he was on some hard times, I was doing pretty good
for myself and I figured it was payback time. He'd been pretty solidly
established and was making good money working for a financial paper -
until the big crash. His income went from Real Good to Unemployment
and to Mark, the job was everything. A little fresh, salt air and
sunshine and barbecuing - not to mention, a change of scene - would do
him good.

	Besides which, I genuinely liked Kate, his second wife, and
his kids - one by her and two by his first wife. Kate had a wicked
deadpan sense of humor; always welcome. I'd been a little suspicious
of her, at first. After all, she'd essentially broken up Mark's
(already crumbling) first marriage and quickly accepted the proposal
of a man 14 years her senior and from a totally different background.
But Kate had Stood By Her Man when it hit the fan, and all three kids
happily called her "Mom." In fact, if Kate weren't married, I could
have been looking forward to her visit for more than friendly chatter
and companionship. She was a damn good-looking woman, in the full
bloom of femininity, and with all the self-assurance and sexiness that
comes with it. And she still had a helluva fine figure and a great,
strong face and -

	But I'm getting ahead of myself.

	Anyhow, about a week before they were going to come out - for
the third weekend in August, an excellent time to get the hell out of
Manhattan - Mark called me. He was sheepish and uncertain and I
finally wormed it out of him:

	"Well, Kate's kid sister is going to be in New York for a
couple of days, and we hate to leave her alone in the condo... "

	Kid sister? Yeah, I was beginning to remember - and then it
all came back in a flash, from the wedding. Kate's kid - but not
"little" - sister, Irene.

	YES!

	"Well, there's plenty of room, Mark - bring her along." I
tried not to drool on the phone, all the time figuring: Irene was six
years younger than Kate, which would make her about 24 or 25 now and
she had been an absolute knockout at the wedding at which time she'd
been no more than 15. Yes, I had done a good job of burying that
memory; every time I'd looked at her, I'd had an instant physical
reaction and had been growling to myself, "Jailbait - Down, boy!"

	"Are you sure it's not too much trouble?" he whined.

	And I was thinking: If it is, you and your clan sleep in the
pool, but she is *definitely* invited.

	"No, no problem. Let her tag along."

	In fact, I suggested they come out on Thursday night and plan
on returning Monday evening. A nice, long weekend.

	I hung up and found I had the same physical reaction to the
thought of Irene. I told myself she'd probably not handled the ensuing
years well. Most women who are stunning at 15 are, er, somewhat less
than appealing 10 years later - as if they've burned out all the
BEAUTIFUL assigned to them much too early. Or she was still stunning,
but was going to take one look at a forty-year-old guy and immediately
begin ignoring him, when possible. Or had gone dyke. Or turned nasty.
Or was embittered.

	None of it worked. At forty, I had to take the time to jerk off
before I could concentrate on anything.

	It didn't help.

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: redragon@interserv.com
Subject: Bonnie  [2/3]
Date: 13 Nov 1995 01:13:10 GMT

			       Bonnie
			       Part Two

	I heard Mark's car crunching on the gravel around 4:30 on
Thursday afternoon. The sun was still high and strong and I was out by
the pool with a cold beer and the latest Spencer novel. I almost
wished they'd been stuck in traffic; I hate being interrupted while
reading Parker.

	I trundled myself out of the chaise lounge and wandered across
the semi-landscaped yard to meet them. I've got three acres, but only
one was cleared. The house sits in the middle of that. Most of the
property is as it was before cars were discovered. The local wildlife
also knew it was a safe place. A couple of huge hares were standing on
their hind legs to see who the intruders were.

	The little circular driveway is surrounded by brush, so I
heard the car doors opening and closing long before I saw the first
signs of their arrival - in this case, Dolores, the fifteen-year-old.
She was carrying a duffel bag and one of those pouches that holds
cassette tapes.

	"Hi, Uncle Dan!" She was still very pretty, with a mischievous
smile that brightened dark rooms. All long legs and auburn hair... she
was going to be a beauty. She was showing that first glow of
blossoming into womanhood, and there were some outstanding secondary
sexual characteristics asserting themselves under her NKOTB tee-shirt.
She'd inherited her Puerto Rican mother's complexion and smile; she
got her blue eyes and hair color from Mark.

	"Hi, Dolores! Glad to see you! Need a hand?"

	She giggled. "No - but Mom does."

	"What do you mean?"

	More giggles. "You'll see! Where should I put these?"

	"Just drop `em in one of the bedrooms downstairs. Your
choice."

	I stepped through the brush into the little clearing that is
my one and only concession to cars on the property. Parked next to my
van was Mark's Subaru.

	"Hey, Mark, Kate, Penny."

	All waved and grinned abashedly and I soon saw why. Kate's
seat- belt clasp was stuck and she and Mark were trying to free it.
Which reminded me: Between the two of them, danger lurked in every
mechanical device. Penny was sitting stolidly in the backseat, biting
her lower lip and trying not to laugh as she watched the fun.

	When I saw the cause of the problem, I did bark out a quick
laugh, which I immediately tried to cover by clearing my throat.
Somehow, Kate had managed to buckle the snap with a piece of her
pretty, lightweight printed summery dress caught in it. Naturally, the
first time she'd moved more than a few inches, it had ripped a sizable
portion of the dress, exposing a sizable portion of her torso.

	"Don't you dare laugh, Daniel," she warned, eyes bright with
mirth. "This is serious business."

	"I can see that."

	Penny coughed. She was going to lose it in a moment.

	"Did you say something, honey?" Mark asked. He was kneeling on
the driver's seat, bent over the imprisoning buckle. He raised his
head to look at Penny and, of course, banged said head on the roof of
the car.

	"Say, Mark, why don't you go down to the basement and get my
red toolbox so we can free the prisoner of fender here."

	Rubbing his head, he nodded and said, "Good idea, and, oh,
yeah, great to see you." He started to offer his left hand - he was
rubbing his head with his right - realized his malaprop, switched
hands and in the process smacked himself in the eye. Same old Mark.

	We managed to wait till he was a decent distance away before
breaking into muffled guffaws.

	"`Prisoner of fender'?" Kate repeated. "I'll get you for
that!"

	Penny scrambled out and around. "Want to take a crack at
this?" I asked.

	She looked at me with that look only a kid can give an adult.
"Are you kidding? I've got both their genes. I'd probably blow up the
car."

	"Watch your mouth, young lady!" Kate barked, but there was no
bite in it.

	"It's more fun watching this," she replied.

	"Want a kid?" Kate asked me.

	"How much will you pay me?"

	"I don't know. What's hamburger going for these days?"

	I was working at the buckle, very much aware how close my
hands were to Kate's rather abundant breasts, which were straining at
the flimsy bra exposed by the injured dress. Their finances may have
gone to hell in a handcart, but her figure was better than ever.

	"Got it," I announced, feeling the little snick of the
release.

	"Praise be!" Kate said, grabbing the strap.

	"Wait! Don't - "

	Too late. She was so eager to be freed of her bondage that
when she ripped the strap off, she also ripped away most of the top of
her dress.

	"At least you made it out alive," Penny offered cheerfully.
She was taking bags out of the back seat.

	Kate looked down at herself as she stood. "Damn." Then she
shrugged and rolled the torn material around her waist. "Oh, well, I
suppose it actually covers more than my swimsuit."

	"Oh?"

	Mark called from the house. "Hey, Dan - I can't find any red
toolbox!"

	I didn't tell him there wasn't any red toolbox.

	"It's okay, Dad - she's sprung!"

	Kate gave me a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks for having
us."

	"My pleasure, babe. I like being surrounded by women who run
around in their underwear." I grabbed a couple of the bags and
noticed, for the first time, that Penny had been growing since the
last time I saw her. She had become more than a pretty little girl;
she was a beautiful, budding adolescent. Her slightly curly hair was
the color of gold, and she wore it shoulder-long. Her eyes were a pale
blue. Her complexion was fair, but too warm to be pale. And she'd
inherited the best of the bone structures of her mom and dad, which
was saying a lot. She was going to be an absolute knockout when she
grew up.

	Mark came out to help with the bags and stared at his wife's
bra- encased tits. I hung back with him as she and Penny preceded us
toward the house. He was staring at his wife's sleek back and the
firm, rounded twitching of her ass in the remains of the dress. He was
shaking his head.

	"Don't worry about the dress, Mark. It happens."

	"Oh, not that. It's just that every time I look at her, it's
like the first time. She just gets more and more beautiful. I am one
lucky sonuvabitch."

	"Amen to that." We started toward the house. "Where's Bonita?"

	"She's waiting in the apartment for Irene. Keep her company on
the way out. They're taking the Long Island Railroad. Should get here
around nine-thirty. They'll probably be yakking all the way."

	"They keep in touch, eh?"

	"And how. Every time Irene gets a flight assignment in the
Northeast, she calls and they gab."

	"Flight assignment?"

	"Oh, yeah - Irene's a flight attendant."

	We climbed the five wooden steps to the side door. Dolores was
walking around the living room, investigating my collection of books
and tapes in the alcove next the fireplace. She was wearing a swimsuit
under her tee-shirt, now, and her long legs flashed and tensed as she
shifted and bent. The bottom of the suit didn't cover much of her ripe
little ass. I cautioned myself not to respond to the sight, but did
anyhow, of course. I settled for reminding myself to behave.

	"Where do you want to bunk us?"

	"I gave the girls first choice of the bedrooms down here. You
guys get the one on the left upstairs."

	I heard the bathroom door open and turned to find Kate
striding toward us. She put on her swimsuit and pulled a pair of denim
shorts on over the bottoms. I knew she was wearing the bottoms because
the outline was visible under the very tight shorts. And she'd been
right - the bra hid more than the white Lurex top.

	Mark's breathing had shortened. "Hey, honey, help me put these
upstairs?"

	She looked puzzled for a moment, then smiled slightly. "Sure."
She took one minuscule makeup bag from her husband and sashayed past
us. We both stared for a moment before Mark began to follow, his eyes
fixed on his wife's gorgeous butt.

	"Mark?"

	He shook himself and looked at me.

	"Be sure the door is closed. Noise and all that."

	He grinned and blushed like a school-kid. I'd stayed with them
once when they were first married. At first I'd thought there was a
malfunctioning air-raid siren nearby. Kate was a screamer.

	I deposited the other bags right there in the living room -
they could sort them out. Then I noticed Dolores. The ceiling of the
main floor goes all the way to the roof for half its width and Dolores
was watching her mesmerized father follow her sashaying mother across
the balcony to the bedroom.

	Penny came out of the bedroom and saw Dolores looking up.
"Where's Mom and Dad?"

	I heard the bedroom door close. Dolores just nodded toward the
balcony.

	"Oh, Jeez," Penny said. "Everybody into the shelter!" She put
her fingers into her ears and headed for the sliding screen doors to
the rear deck and the backyard beyond, lean legs scissoring beneath
the thigh-length jumbo tee-shirt.

	Dolores followed at a more leisurely pace. She was shaking her
head.

	"What's the matter?"

	"I never knew old folks could get it on so much. None of my
friends' parents do it so much or so loud."

	I stepped onto the deck and closed the screen door behind us.
"Your folks are very much in love."

	"And lust."

	I laughed. "That, too."

	"Gives me hope for my old age," she said and grinned.

	"Old age? Hey, your dad's only a few years older than I am." I
was trying to kid her.

	"Oh, I didn't mean it like that. I mean, you're single and do
stuff. You're - well, you're not like a parent."

	"Not that I know of."

	We stepped off the deck into the cool grass and headed toward
the pool.

	"Is it okay if we swim?"

	I looked out at the yard, where Penny was investigating the
bird feeder. "You have to," I said. "Unless the pool gets churned up,
it solidifies. Can't have that."

	"Uh-uh. Can't let that happen." She walked a little bit ahead
of me and slowly peeled her tee-shirt up. The blue Lurex or spandex
bottom covered maybe two-thirds of her butt. Hard, creamy ass flesh
clenched and twitched in front of me for the next three or four steps,
during which she completed the de-tee-shirting. Her hips were slightly
flared, her waist was taut and the top of her suit was no more than a
narrow band of very tightly stretched blue across her shoulder blades.
She shook her chestnut hair back and suddenly turned to face me.

	"Hold my shirt for me?" She thrust it at me.

	"Uh, sure."

	She smiled again, this time slyly. "How do you like my suit?"
She slowly turned this way and that. Yes, her secondary sexual
characteristics were superbly developed. About a handful (and I've got
big hands), they were firm and jutting, even within the not-quite
confines of the stretch top.

	Which is to say: She had great tits.

	"There's not much to like," I said. "And I like it."

	Just then we could hear the first distant wailing from the
house. It went louder and higher and then there was a shriek - and the
wailing resumed.

	Dolores' eyes were half-closed and her nipples were hardening.
She shook her self, turned and jogged toward the pool. A moment later,
I heard the splash. I strode slowly ahead, the tee-shirt in my hand.
Penny awaited me at the gate.

	"She's gotten to be such a flirt."

	I looked down at her, found her looking up at me, beautiful
face expressionless and utterly devoid of guile. The top of her head
was barely even with the bottom of my ribcage. We stepped inside the
fencing. Dolores' splashing pretty well covered the screams from the
house.

	"Most pretty girls flirt," I said. "It's usually a phase."

	"I know. It starts when they take first deliveries on the
flirting equipment." She was watching her sister. "She's already had
some re- orders delivered."

	I went to my chaise lounge and sat. She followed and stood
beside me, still watching her sister. Dolores seemed to be trying to
swim the length of the pool underwater on a single breath. She was
almost making it.

	"Do I detect a hint of jealousy?"

	"A little." She pulled the big tee-shirt off and stood in her
own two-piece, which was considerably less flashy and more modest than
her sister's. "But I'm only eleven." She smiled brightly. "I think
I'll do okay. What do you think?"

	Eleven? She had tits 14-year-olds would kill for. Penny was an
early bloomer. Her legs were still a bit skinny and she had no hips,
but her breasts were already forming nicely and proudly, and her
little peach of an ass was something I could have cheerfully take a
big bite out of - if there was any skin that wasn't taut as a rubber
ball.

	"Yeah, you'll do okay. Go swim."

	"Sure!" She whirled, whooped and leaped.

	Had she glanced at my crotch, quickest of snatched glimpses,
just before turning? I wasn't sure, but I was glad I was wearing a
jockstrap and swimsuit under my shorts - or else there'd have been no
concealing the hard-on there.

	I grabbed the remains of my now-warm and flat beer and drained
it. This was going to be one helluva trying weekend - and Bonita and
Irene hadn't even shown up yet!

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: redragon@interserv.com
Subject: Bonnie [3/3]
Date: 13 Nov 1995 01:14:04 GMT

			       Bonnie
			      Part Three

	I left Penny watching Dolores' indefatigable swimming while I
went to the house for another beer and to get dinner under way. I
started the charcoal burning and laid out a couple of steaks and
washed some potatoes. While I was preparing the salad, Mark and Kate
came downstairs, a bit wobbly in the knees, if you ask me. Kate was
glowing and Mark looked content... for the time being.

	"You guys get everything put where it belongs?"

	Kate laughed easily and Mark grinned beneath his blush. He was
wearing an incredibly, wonderfully tacky Hawaiian shirt and oversized
shorts. Kate was wearing her little white Lurex two piece with a
matching wrap around the bottom. When she walked, her hips rolled. Her
nipples were round, dark blotches inside the white top, which was
stretched to bursting by her tits. Between her and the two flirting
kids, I was going to be spending a lot of time choking the chicken
this weekend, unless something wonderful happened with Irene.

	"Anything we can do help?" Kate asked as I chopped lettuce.

	I stared at her. "After that business with the seat belt? You
could injure some valuable real estate. I'd feel more at ease, though,
if you'd go keep an eyes on those two marathon swimmers."

	Kate smiled warmly and winked at Mark, than glided out the
door. She took off the wrap as she walked and that gorgeous, womanly
ass was demonstrating many wonderful advantages of sheer, white Lurex.

	"She's a lot of woman, cousin."

	Mark nodded. "Maybe too much."

	"Huh?"

	"Listen, I should be pretty safe wrapping the potatoes in
foil, right?"

	I nodded. As he mangled the aluminum foil, I said, "What did
you mean - `Maybe too much'?"

	"Shit, Dan, I'm almost 45. She's 30, just entering her sexual
prime. She's almost insatiable."

	"Looks sated to me. Could almost hear her slosh." I went to
work on the radishes.

	"She just turns me on so much, I always kind of rise to the
occasion. How's this?" He held up the first successfully captured
potato. It was a pretty miserable job of wrapping.

	"Terrific. Listen, as long as she's happy, what're you
worrying about?"

	"Can I be blunt?"

	"Hell, you can be the Easter Bunny. Shoot."

	"Sometimes I think that no matter how much she cums, she's a
little disappointed when I stop."

	"Are you bullshitting me?"

	He shook his head somberly while he struggled to wrap another
elusive potato.

	"Mark, you two were in the bedroom for 45 minutes. For two-
thirds of that time, she was screaming. The look on her face and the
way she was walking just now... That is one satisfied woman."

	"I wonder... "

	"Have you asked her about this?"

	"Sure. She says I'm all the man she could ever wish for, that
it's beautiful and ecstatic... the standard line."

	I stabbed a green pepper. "Standard line? Are you nuts? Are
you trying to imply Kate would hide something?"

	"Well, yes - so she wouldn't hurt my feelings. I think she
wants more than I can give her."

	"Evidence?"

	"Evi - ? Oh." He deposited another pathetically wrapped potato
and began assaulting a third. "Well, I was watching a porno tape. She
usually doesn't bother with them - says they're not romantic - but she
was walking through during this one scene where a guy with a huge cock
was giving a woman the business. Guy's dick must have been a foot long
and thick as a sausage. Well, she stopped walking and watched that.
Never took her eyes off the screen. And it turned her on so much, I
thought I was going to need a mop."

	I laughed. "Hey, man, I've seen you in the shower. You've got
nothing to worry about."

	"Dan, this guy had more soft than I have hard. Huge - the way
her nipples got watching him."

	"Lot's of women fantasize about fucking a horse-cock, but most
of them don't care for it unless it's attached to someone they really
like."

	"So I've read. So I've been told."

	I went to work on a pair of perfect red peppers. "Why don't
you believe it?"

	He took a deep breath. "Well, after that film I thought maybe
she was wishing for more. So I went out and bought something. A
marital aid."

	"A what?"

	"You know... "

	"A dildo?"

	"Yeah." A kind of cough under his breath.

	"A great big one."

	"Yeah."

	"As big as the guy in the movie."

	Another cough. I went to work on the carrots.

	"And?"

	"And, well, uh, one night when I ran out of gas, I got it out
and lubed it up and started using it on her." He stopped wrapping and
stared at me. "Mark, she came for almost another hour."

	"Nonstop?"

	He nodded. "My arms gave out before she did. She took that
fucking thing inside to the hilt. I could see her tummy bulge when it
was in. I did it hard, I did it easy, fast, slow, straight, circles.
Didn't matter. By the time she was done, I was hard again. I rode her
for another 15 minutes and she kept cumming. Used the dildo again for
about a half-hour. She finally passed out with the dildo inside her.
She was still cumming."

	I emitted a low whistle.

	"She came for more than two hours without a pause and was
still cumming when she passed out," he repeated. "I think I've got a
situation here."

	"All in your head, Mark." Carrots done, I went to work on a
cucumber, peeling the skin.

	"I think she wants more than just me."

	"Even though she said the opposite."

	"And I think she's going to go trolling."

	"Now, Mark - "

	"And I think she'd like you."

	"WHAT?"

	"And I want you to go ahead - "

	I spun on him, cucumber poised for attack. "Forget it! Out of
the question!"

	"Dan, she's going to go after somebody sooner or later. She
likes you, I like you - and I trust you. I know you'd never try to
take her away from me so I'd be grateful if you helped me keep her
happy."

	"Sort of keep it in the family, huh?"

	"Yeah."

	"No fucking way. End of discussion."

	"But - "

	"Mark, don't piss me off. I envy you Kate in your bed, I lust
after her, but I am not - repeat, not - going to fuck your wife."

	"What if she asked?"

	"Same response."

	His shoulders slumped and I returned to the cucumber. I
realized that he'd actually convinced himself that he wanted this - to
have me fuck his horny wife.

	A few more silent minutes of devastating the potatoes and
preparing the salad, and I said, "Better go get those water babies in
here to change. We'll be ready to eat in a half hour."

	"Sure." Dejected. He went out and summoned them. The two girls
scampered in, with Kate languidly bringing up the rear, so to speak.

	"Mosquitoes out there," she announced.

	"No kidding." I handed her the salad bowl. "In the fridge,
please?"

	She smiled brightly and bent at the waist before the opened
refrigerator. Her ass was a caution, out-thrust like that. Broing!
Boner time.

	"There're some bug whackers out there. Would you guys turn'em
on for me? Just turn the switch till the nasty blue glow starts and
watch the fun. And toss those taters down into the coals, please."

	"I'll do it," Mark said. To Kate: "You're still damp."

	From what he'd told me, she was always damp. He went out into
the yard and began making the rounds in twilight.

	"Kate, I've got to tell you something."

	"Mmmmm?"

	"Dolores is turning me on. She's working at it, but she
doesn't have to."

	She made a face. "So now she's picking on you. Mark had the
same reaction and I told her it wasn't nice to go around teasing her
dad."

	"Or her Uncle Dan."

	"I'll talk to her about it."

	"Please. I don't want to be tempted by a kid. Get a couple of
more brewskis in me and I might convince myself that she wants to do
more than tease."

	Kate chuckled. "She probably does. She really likes you, you
know."

	"But she's 15. She's just a kid."

	"Oh, she's grown up enough in some ways."

	"Not between the ears, she's not. And how's Irene looking?"

	"She's grown up enough, in all the ways. When I grow up, I
want to look like Irene. Looking forward to her arrival?" She stared
pointedly at my crotch.

	"As if you and Lolita weren't enough to raise the flagpole."

	"Why, thank you for the flattery!" She smiled. Dimples. Hadn't
noticed those before.

	"It's truth."

	"Well, if you're already salivating, wait'll Bonita gets
here."

	"Oh? She's - what? Nineteen?"

	"You haven't seen her in a while, have you?"

	"No. Last couple of times, she's been away at school." Bonita
was a sophomore at Smith, on a scholarship. She'd spent her previous
summer in Italy, visiting ruins (presumably). This summer she was
interning at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. She was an Art History
major.

	"Bonita is gorgeous and hot and - remember young Raquel
Welch?"

	"Who could forget?"

	"Okay - better. Sexier."

	I whistled. "Maybe we better get some sheep in here before
they arrive. I'm going to be drooling over a 19-year-old. If Irene
shows signs of receptivity, warn her that I'm going to be, er,
prominently energetic."

	"The prominence is already evident." She glanced at my crotch.

	"Cripes."

	Dolores and Penny came out, wearing loose shorts and oversized
shirts and thongs. Penny looked cute. Since Dolores' shirt was
sufficiently oversized for her braless tits to bobble enticingly, she
was again an ad for jailbait sex.

	"Kate - Lolita?" I whispered.

	"Right. Dolores, will you help me with something, please?"
Kate strode toward the stairway to the upstairs bedroom, her daughter
in tow. Mark returned.

	"Mosquito heaven out there."

	"We can't eat outside?" Penny asked.

	"In a little while. Your dad has successfully engaged the
nuclear- powered bug zappers. I will fire up the citronella blasters
and in a brief time, the backyard will be safe for visiting humans."

	"I'm still putting on jeans and a long sleeve," said Mark.

	"Bug repellent's in the utility closet next to the bathroom
down here."

	Penny looked up at the closed bedroom door. "You told Mom
about Dolores, right?"

	"Right."

	Penny looked at me, now. Her gaze was disconcertingly calm.
"She really wants to do it with you, y'know."

	"If she feels the same way in five years, I'll be delighted."

	"I'm serious."

	I was busy working a garlic clove around the steaks. I stopped
and met her stare. "She told you?"

	Penny nodded. "She's not a virgin, either. Hasn't been for a
year. Why not?"

	"She's too young - "

	"She's big enough."

	"And she's not big enough."

	"You liked her body."

	"Yes, but she's not big enough. In there."

	"She's had - "

	"Believe me, Penny. She's not."

	"But - "

	I reached into the vegetable bin and handed her a large
cucumber. "No, she's not."

	Her eyes widened and her mouth opened. A little "Oh!" came
out.

	I took back the vegetable and replaced it. "Put the plates out
on the picnic table for me? They're in that cupboard." I nodded and
resumed preparing the steaks. "How do you like yours?"

	"Big and - uh, medium." She was blushing. She took a very long
time to put the plates on the table. In the interim, Dolores and Kate
came back downstairs. Both were dressed for outdoor dining, i.e.,
jeans and long-sleeved dark blouses. Dolores looked abashed. Kate was
keeping her lovely lips pursed in a straight line, holding back a
smile.

	"Dolores?" I called.

	"What?" she snapped. Then: "Sorry."

	"It's okay." Kate was trying to strangle a laugh. "Would you
help set the table. Silverware and glasses." I nodded toward the
appropriate cupboard and drawers.

	When she was outside, Kate said, "She really wants to do it
with you."

	"If she feels the same way in five years, I'll be delighted."

	"I'm serious."

	I was cutting the steaks into New York strips. I stopped and
turned to her, with an intense feeling of deja vu. "She told you?"

	"She's not a virgin, either. Hasn't been for a year."

	"She told you?" This is a recording - a recording - a
recording...

	"Sure. We have a good relationship."

	"And what do you think of this desire?"

	"I guess every young woman has a phase when she gets the hots
for an older, male relative. Especially a good-looking one who has a
romantic lifestyle."

	"Oh, yeah. real romantic. Cooped up ten hours a day in front
of a CRT, trying to turn obscure bits of fact into a coherent story.
Dragging around the SEC or libraries. Hanging out for hours in some
waiting room while the guy who won't return my calls ducks down the
service elevator. About as romantic as driving a cab."

	"She just sees the byline on a New York Magazine cover or a
book in the stores. She remembers the name on the Times list or a
Tonight Show bit - she taped it, you know." Kate smiled. "Yes -
romantic. Handsome. Single."

	"You still haven't told me what you think of this."

	She took a deep breath. I was glad she was dressed. "Well, if
she's going to get it on with an older male, I think I'd prefer it be
you. I know you, I like you and I trust you with her emotions."

	"She's too young - "

	"She's mature enough."

	"And she's not big enough."

	"She turned you on."

	"Very much." I was about to say "But she's not big enough, in
there" and do the cucumber routine again - but then I remembered what
Mark had told me. No, that was not the approach to take in this case.
I just said, "I don't think it would be a great idea, Kate, and I'd
prefer that it be discouraged."

	She nodded thoughtfully. "And that's one of the reasons why
I'd trust you with her. Thank you."

	"Think nothing of it. Let's go grill some steaks."

	By the time the salad was dispensed, the steaks were done and
it was full dark. I switched on some of the low-wattage electric
lanterns so we could see what we were eating. The night was filled
with stars, the steaks were juicy, the potatoes sizzling, the salad
crunchy, the beer was cold, good company abounded - heaven. We topped
it off with the traditional toasted marshmallows (for the "kids,"
which included Kate) and some coffee cake for Mark and me. His
spirits, which had been good during the meal, were sinking again.
While Kate and the "kids" went into the house to play Scrabble, he
started talking about looking for work. There were hints of the
recession ending, but -

	"In my field, you work for a loser, you're marked as a loser."

	He went downhill from there. Through three more beers, he got
progressively more morose. And less coherent. Never could hold his
booze.

	The womenfolk came out to help clear the table. Kate looked at
Mark, sitting stuporous across from me and rolled her eyes. I gave her
a little shake of my head.

	"It's almost nine," she said. "Their train comes in at nine
thirty." The two girls helped me clear the table while Kate helped
Mark clear the doorway and the Alpine climb to the bedroom.

	"Gonna be quiet tonight," Penny said.

	"For a change," Dolores said.

	We were carrying our loads into the kitchen. "Who won the
game?" I was trying to change the subject.

	"The shrimp."

	"Oh?" Penny was sticking her tongue out at Dolores.

	I stopped in my tracks and stared as they went to the counter.
Penny glanced back at me and grinned impishly. "I read a lot," she
said.

	I got the dishes loaded into the dishwasher machine, fueled it
with soap and started the Infernal Machine. It always sounds more like
a trash compactor, but it definitely does the dirty work. "I'm going
to the station, now. There's cable on the TV in your room."

	Dolores made a face. "TV. Yuck."

	"Can I come with you?" Penny asked.

	"He doesn't want you going with him, you dope. He's going to
be picking up Irene."

	"Who's a dope? Bonnie's going to be there anyhow. Besides,
how's he going to know who they are?"

	"Good point," I said. "Okay."

	"I'm coming, too, then," Dolores said. Penny flashed her a
murderous look. Dolores glared back. What the hell as going on?

	"Keep that up and you ride in the trunk. Go brush teeth and be
out here in five minutes, ready to move out."

	I took the time to wash my face and change. Wanted to look
good for Irene, heh-heh. Stripped off the shorts, swimsuit and jock,
pulled on a pair of old Levis and a clean shirt that emphasized my
shoulders. Sneakers, no socks. The casual, self-assured, successful
writer look. Irresistible, I hoped. Prayed.

	Some night creatures scattered into the bushes as we walked
out to the driveway and somewhere over the Bay, on the other side of
the road, an owl was hoo-hoo-hooooting. Penny was gawking at the
stars.

	I got into the van and asked her, "Coming?"

	"I never saw this many stars anywhere but at the Planetarium."
She was awestruck. I liked that, a lot.

	Dolores scrambled into the back passenger-side seat - the van
has four buckets - and buckled herself in while Penny did the same in
the front. We pulled out of the driveway and started through dark,
twisty Eastern Long Island roads. No street lights and only two
stoplights for the six miles to the station. At the first stop sign, I
glanced into the rearview and saw what Dolores was doing to herself
for my benefit.