Gradually she stopped massaging. "Mary Beth," she said as soon as she could trust her voice, "you stay right here, nice and relaxed. I've got to go now, but I'll be back late this evening and give you another massage. I think we can stop those pains. Now just go to sleep, honey. I'll slip out quietly."
A faint whimper of protest came from the slack lips, but Mary Beth obediently kept her eyes closed and lay still.
"I'll drive her up the wall," Sue Robin vowed as she climbed into her MG. "She'll be begging Bobby Lee to screw her."
Mary Beth remained in a dreamy state of languor, still glowing from the stimulating caresses of Sue Robin. She had never caressed her own body like that. Her mother had drilled it into her that such things were sinful. Idly her thoughts went back to her childhood, before she and her widowed mother had moved to Maxwell. Crystal had been with them then, Crystal who was two years older than her, and even prettier. In the little town of Gammon she and Crystal were known as the two prettiest little girls for miles around. Old men bought them candy at the local grocery store, and fondled their hair and bounced them on their knees.
That was how Mary Beth had learned the flirty ways which became such a part of her that she had actually grown up unconscious of them. As a six-year-old she had reminded oldsters of little Shirley Temple, and she knew how to make her dimples appear, and how to dance and roll her eyes to please the old men and make them buy her candy. As she grew older, it made young boys her own age play with her at parties, especially games in which holding each other was part of the action.
But there was always her stern-faced mother, warning of sin and damnation, and the folly of "having anything to do with boys and men". Just exactly what she meant by having to do with them, Mary Beth didn't really know. She scarcely listened to the dirty talk of some of the boys and girls in her school, and sex was something her mother mentioned on rare occasions with a shudder of disgust. As she neared her teens, her mother warned her more and more -- but vaguely still -- about having males touch her, or even touching her own body. Luckily an intelligent physical education teacher taught the schoolgirls about keeping their entire bodies clean, but Mary Beth tried not to look at herself when she was scrubbing "down there" in the shower or the bathtub.
The last man to bounce her on his knees was the preacher who came to enjoy Sunday dinner occasionally with the Widow Dumont. Mary Beth was about eleven then, and already her nipple were beginning to grow and the little flesh mound that would later become such splendid boobs were pressing against her dress.
"She's a mighty nice little girl, Mrs. Dumont," the preacher said, running his hand down her back and patting her buttocks.
The mother smiled proudly as the preacher pulled the girl to sit on his knees. He looked earnestly into the mother's eyes while his hand moved, as if indifferently, over the girl's body.
"You'll have to keep a close eye on this one, Mrs. Dumont. A close eye! But with God's help, I know you'll do all right."
"Amen!"
About two years later Crystal succumbed to the urges of her passionate body and the delightful pressures of a high school football player, and got herself pregnant. Feeling disgraced, Widow Dumont had packed her oldest daughter out of the state to live with a relative until everything was over, and she took Mary Beth and moved to Maxwell, where nobody had ever heard of them. There she continued to drill into the younger daughter the sinfulness of the human body.
Still, she was traditional enough to want her daughter to marry successfully. That was "the thing to do", although it involved certain distasteful sexual duties. So when her beautiful and popular daughter attracted Bobby Lee Forsythe, the tall, handsome son of the richest man in the county, she didn't discourage Mary Beth from seeing him.
Now Mary Beth dreamily caressed her breast and imagined that it was the skilled hand of Sue Robin. A nice girl, Sue Robin. She was lucky to have her for a sister-in-law. She sure learned a lot as a nurse's aide, all that massage stuff. The tension and nagging pain was completely gone. But her own hand didn't feel as good as Sue Robin's had. She slipped her hand on down between her thighs, to stroke the sensitive flesh, and her fingertips encountered the slippery love-juice. Startled, she wondered what it was, but when she lifted her hand and looked at her glistening fingertips, she saw nothing to cause alarm.
Again she ran her fingers between her thighs, high up against her soft, fleshy pussylips. Ah, she thought, that feels more like Sue Robin's hand. It felt good, very good. It was something she had never done, rub herself "down there". She had heard talk in high school of what boys did to themselves, but she had never heard of girls doing anything like that. And any sensations of pleasure had been firmly repressed whenever she bathed herself.
Many times when she dated boys in high school, they tried to get their hands between her legs, but she'd always stopped that in a hurry. To keep them from being too angry and upset, she'd let a special ones that she really liked squeeze her boobs -- outside her clothes, of course -- but only for a minute or two. Nobody had ever touched her bare flesh, except Bobby Lee.
I love him, she said to herself. I really love him. Her fingers were gentle as she stroked herself absently. But he scared me. She recalled his frenzied words: "We're getting married tomorrow, honey! Dammit, we'll make love then -- why not now? I'm getting a stone-ache, Mary Beth!"
She hadn't understood what he meant by a stone-ache, but she could tell he was under tremendous stress, and she thought, why not? Well be doing that after we're married, so it won't hurt to pleasure him tonight.
The lean-back seat of his Capri was comfortable enough, but it was cramped quarters for his six-foot-one frame, and he was impatient. The instant he sensed her surrender, he reached under her frock and pulled her panties down her uncooperating legs. Dragging out his aching, throbbing cock, he forced himself between her legs.
"You'll like this, honey," he muttered, but he was too sexed up to take time to warm her up, and her virgin pussy was dry as he prodded between the lips with his rampaging pole.
His own juice, drooling through the tiny slit in the end of his cockhead, lubricated the outer lips as he tried to curb his eagerness and push his way gently into her. Meanwhile, she lay perfectly still, her eyes closed tight and her hands clenched by her sides.
"Oh!" she wailed briefly as he broke through the flimsy membrane of her maidenhead, and the involuntary tensing of her cunt squeezed his swollen shaft deliciously. For a moment, he thought she was going to respond, but again she lay as though dead while he pumped away, careful not to drive his entire cock into her tight passage for fear he might injure her.
She didn't even stir while he spasmed his sperm into her in fierce volleys. When he pulled his softening cock out of her, Mary Beth sensed his disappointment, but she didn't know what to do about it. This was what her mother had hinted that she would have to expect from time to time, though the widow had never gone into detail.
Without her realizing it, her hand was now inside her panties and sliding up and down the padded hump of her pubic mound. She hardly knew what a clitoris was, but instinctively her fingers pressed through the soft furry cluster of hair to the spot that generated such lightning flashes of intense pleasure when she touched it.
"Ahhhhhhhhh!" she gasped, and her body tensed and twisted sideways on the couch. Then, "Oh!" She sprang up from the couch and stood cowering on the rug, frightened and shocked by the sudden electric jolt that had ripped through her. She looked at her fingers, slick and glistening with the extra juice that had gotten on them.
"What happened?" she murmured, and hurried to the bathroom to wash herself.
CHAPTER THREE
"So now you come to me!" The tiger eyes blazed at Sue Robin as she stood in the doorway of the little cottage, waiting for the old woman to invite her inside. "I know what you here for. Why you didn't come to me first? You chillun today think you know it all. Got no respect for us old people."
Sue Robin repressed a smile and waited patiently. Unl
ike everybody else in Maxwell, she was not afraid of the black witch, for the "witch" had been like another mother, or grandmother, all her life, and she loved her as much as she loved Great Aunt Minerva.
"All right. Come on in and set down." The muddy-gold eyes traveled over the tall shapely young woman, and the corners of her mouth twitched with approval. She'd done a fine job, bringing this one and her twin brother up.
"That brother o' yaurn ain't happy with his new bride."
"You knew already?" The astonishment was fake. Sue Robin was not at all surprised at the old woman's occult knowledge.
"Course I knew," the other snorted disdainfully. She pointed to the cane-bottomed chair next to her and Sue Robin came and sat beside her, towering head and shoulders above the gray mop of kinky hair.
"How long Bobby Lee gonna be in Atlanta?"
"Probably a week, Aunt Clarinda."
"We'll need more time."
"He'll probably call me tonight or tomorrow night. I can stall him, if you say so."
"I say so. Full moon ain't fill eight more days."
"I'll do it, Aunt Clarinda."
"I'll call a meetin'."
In spite of her education, Sue Robin felt a superstitious thrill shoot through her. She had heard vaguely of Aunt Clarinda's "meetings", though never from any whites. As a child, she had heard some of her black playmates whisper about "meetings", and always they looked over their shoulders with genuine dread as if afraid of being struck dead -- or worse.
The eyes flamed yellow as they stared into the blue eyes of the young woman, reading to the very depths of her soul, Sue Robin felt.
"An' you won't talk about it, neither, y'heah? Nobody talks about it. You get a loose tongue, an' you won't just die; you'll come back as a zombie." The eyes seemed to grow larger and larger, and Sue Robin felt drawn into circles of luminescence, hypnotized, powerless to move or say anything.
The power was suddenly withdrawn, and Sue Robin took a deep breath. "You don't have to worry about me, Aunt Clarinda. You know I'd never talk."
The fierce eyes softened to mellow gold again, and a smile lifted the withered brown ups. "I know, honey. Don't worry no more. Everything's gonna be all right. You just keep that big dumb brother of yourn away." She shook her head. "Sometimes it seem to me that men ain't right bright. Git outta heah now; I got work to do."
Sue Robin stooped and kissed the wrinkled forehead, then turned and hurried out. She long-legged it across the fifty years of manicured lawn to the big house, smiling to herself at the fierce independence of the old woman. Her father had tried again and again to persuade her to take one of the extra rooms in the house, where they could keep an eye on her in case she should need help. At eighty, them was no telling what might happen. But so adamantly had Aunt Clarinda refused that Tyrus Forsythe had finally given up. Anything the old lady asked for -- or demanded -- she got, with no argument.
The early September sun was still well above the horizon, so Sue Robin didn't worry about hurrying to Mary Beth's house, which was down the road a half-mile. She stood and looked toward the river, winding a short distance away through willows and live oaks festooned with Spanish moss, zigzagging its lazy way to the ocean less than a mile to the east. She and Bobby Lee used to go down to the river as youngsters, to fish or swim if the tide wasn't pulling too strong. Sometimes they went alone, sometimes with other kids. A favorite playmate had been Sybil, Aunt Clarinda's granddaughter. Sybil was in Atlanta now, working and going to college. Let's see, Sue Robin reflected, I think she's majoring in anthropology.
The hot sun glinted off the roof of a distant building, mostly concealed by gigantic live oak trees surrounding it. The Old Place! Built by the first Forsythe on the plantation, several years before the Civil War, the Old Place was now boarded up, though once or twice a year Aunt Minerva and Aunt Clarinda and a few very trusted servants would open up the place and clean and dust and make sure everything was in good shape. Them was even talk of declaring the old estate a historic monument, and creating a tiny state park around it.
Ghosts roamed the Old Place, spirits from the family cemetery that lay tombstoned between it and the New Place where the Forsythes now lived. Or so people in Maxwell claimed. From time to time the sheriff checked the place for security, purely as a routine. Nobody dared to perpetrate any vandalism on the stately old property, although occasional lovers had sneaked in through an unlocked door or window. But they didn't stay long. Ghostly voices and hideous laughter quickly drove them out.
Strange, Sue Robin mused. Two or three of her high school girl friends had confided to her that they had gone there to make out with their boy friends. They had scored all right, but soon after that, the weird noises and wild laughter had scared them out, wide-eyed and passionless. That was strange, Sue Robin recollected, because she and Bobby Lee had spent the night there in their sleeping bags, when they were about fourteen, and they had heard nothing.
She smiled comfortably. That was the first time they had fucked, really fucked. Staying in the "haunted house" had been their initiation test for admission in the Alligator Club, a very exclusive little group organized by some high school students. She and Bobby Lee were a bit young for membership, but already Bobby Lee was big enough for junior varsity football and basketball, and Sue Robin was tall and just developing. That was the year Mary Beth moved to Maxwell, and the following year she was pledged, too.
"You've got to spend the night -- all night -- in the Old Place," the president of the Alligators told the twins. "Maybe the haunts won't bug you, since you're in the family."
Saying nothing to their father or Aunt Minerva, the twins had quietly slipped out of their rooms at nine o'clock and gone downstairs and outside to where they had earlier hidden their sleeping bags. Bobby Lee went in front, a flashlight in his hand, but he didn't turn it on because he didn't want to attract any attention.
The president of the Alligators and two senior members were waiting for them by a magnolia tree on the weed-covered lawn of the Old Place. Plainly they were nervous at being in the area after dark.
"Go on in. We'll wait around here for a while, and others will check through the night to make sure you're still here. Somebody will give you the final check at five-thirty in the morning. If you've made it then, you're members."
Bobby Lee clicked on his flashlight then, and followed closely by Sue Robin, he made his way to a downstairs window that was unlocked, and not covered by boards. He helped her in and crawled in behind her. By the circular spot of the flashlight they saw they were in a small bedroom. White sheets covered the bed and the few pieces of furniture in the room.
"Here?" Bobby Lee asked, struggling to keep his voice from trembling.
"No, it's too scary here. Let's see what's in the next room," his sister replied.
The next room was a spacious room with a high fireplace to one side. The furniture was pushed against the walls and covered with sheets and tarpaulins.
"Hey, Buz, look at the candles!"
On the mantelpiece over the fireplace were two candelabras with candles in them.
"Let's light one of them, so we'll have a little bit of light tonight," Sue Robin said in a half-whisper.
"Okay." Bobby Lee took down one of the candelabras, and placed it on the brick deck before the fireplace. He lighted two of the three candles.
"Not enough to keep us awake, but enough to see by -- if we have to see!"
Spreading their sleeping bags in the middle of the floor, they stripped down to their underwear and crawled in. They talked in low whispers for a few minutes, but both of them were healthily sleepy, so they fell asleep.
It seemed to Bobby Lee that he was being dragged out of the depths of a dark but not unpleasant cave, somebody gripping him by the shoulder and pulling hard. Protesting, he woke up.
"It's me, Buz. I'm cold."
He felt the trembling hand against his shoulder.
"Okay, Sis. I'll light the other candle, and you can crawl in with me." H
e slid out of the sleeping bag, and the chilly air of early winter struck his bare legs and arms. Shivering, he quickly lighted the fresh candles; the other two were almost burned out. Then he slid back into the sleeping bag, behind his sister.
"Now I'm cold," he muttered.
Her back was to him, and he pressed close against her, spoon-fashion, and put his arms about her so they would get warm again.
"You really were cold," he said, feeling the chill of her smooth thighs and her bare back and shoulders. "Even your fanny is cold."
"You're warm," she said happily, and snuggled back against him, wriggling her cold buttocks into his groin.
They lay still for a while, waiting, for sleep to come again.
Practically orphaned when their mother died at their birth, the twins had grown up much closer than most brothers and sisters. Their father was already in early middle age when they were born, and their mother, had been in her thirties. The parents had married late. Tyrus Forsythe was a busy man, taking care of the vast plantation and his hardware supply house and various other properties, and Aunt Minerva was much too old to romp and tumble with the growing children, so it was only natural that they should become inseparable playmates. Even when they started to school, their friends and playmates. Even when they started to school, their friends and playmates recognized that the two were very close, and one was never invited to anything unless the other was invited too.
Beginning with their early discovery of the pleasure in playing with each other, especially the game of lollipop Sue Robin played with Bobby Lee's peter, they continued fondling and experimenting as natural urges impelled them. When other little playmates showed them how to play doctor, they adopted that game, and developed imaginative variations.
But by the time they hit twelve, they drifted into more boy-boy, girl-girl relationships, and their little sex games seemed juvenile, so they put them away with their other toys. Sue Robin hardly noticed that her twin brother was growing into a handsome young giant, and Bobby Lee was barely aware that his sister was beautiful, and that her body was changing shape dramatically. She started wearing bras and sheer bikini panties.
pr-3037 kiss it, sis (fred ward) 1976 Page 3
