Norma entered timidly and mopped up the mess with a big sponge. As she bent over, working, Martin Reardon goosed her. "That'sh my li'l piece o' tail," he slobbered. "Whooeee! Is she a tigress in the sack! Unh-unh-unh," he grunted, thrusting his hips.
Controlling herself, Norma quickly returned to the kitchen without replying. Martin Reardon called after her. "My son and daughter come all the way from San Francisco and can't even get a goddam meal in their old man's house! Come on, huh? Where the fuck's our dinner?"
"Coming up, dear," Norma called pleasantly. "Be on the table in a minute."
Joyce looked aghast at her brother, then crossed the room and sat on the damp arm of her father's chair. "We can wait, daddy," she cooed. "We're not that hungry." With her index finger, she toyed with his long sideburn. Clumsily, he encircled her waist with his long arm and pulled her into his lap. He gave her a loud kiss, right on her breast, then grinned at her stupidly. "Yes siree, my little girl's all grown up now. Wow! Are you ever!" He planted a hungry kiss on her neck and his hand dropped to her inner thigh and moved slowly back and forth.
Joyce glanced at her brother searchingly, as if seeking an answer to her predicament. Angrily, Denny stood up. "I'm gonna see if Norma needs any help in the kitchen," he said. But he stood pausing in the dining room, watching.
Martin Reardon was staring hungrily, without the slightest attempt at subtlety, at his daughter's breasts as his hand inched slowly up Joyce's leg. "Boy, are you grown up," he repeated, mumbling and making kissing sounds as he stared at the twin mounds very near his face.
Joyce caught her father's hand by the wrist before it reached her vagina. Watching, it disturbed Denny that his sister was obviously filled with mixed emotions. The hand had toyed with the elastic band of her panties before she had pulled it away. Good God! he thought. Not only did he lust after their stepmother-apparently Joyce was developing a thing for their father! It was going to be a weird vacation all right.
Joyce asked her father if he would like a cup of coffee, but he declined and screamed again about dinner. "Wher's the fuckin' food!" He held his hand at his mouth then, focusing his eyes with difficulty. "Shouldn't use that kinda language in front of my li'l daughter, eh?" he said, giggling. "Well, I gotta celebrate my kids' arrival, you know?" And he stroked Joyce's ass and nibbled at her ear.
Denny couldn't watch it any more. He went on into the kitchen. "What can I do to help?" he asked.
Norma was briskly mashing potatoes. "You just relax, dear," Norma said. "I must apologize for your father's behavior. He was very excited about your arrival, you see. He's had too much to drink. Please forgive him."
"Yeah, and if I remember correctly, he used to get excited all the time." Denny kissed his stepmother's cheek. Then, smiling, he boldly put his arm around her waist. "I hope he's been good to you," Denny said, feeling a tingle in his groin.
"Sometimes better than others," Norma admitted. "Mainly, I worry about his practice. He has a nine o'clock patient in the morning." She shook her head.
Denny let his grip tighten just a little about her waist and he was certain he detected a trace of the lust they had shared last summer. Yes, some of the same physical attraction seemed to be flowing between them, even though Norma was busy fixing dinner and the yelling continued from the yelling room. Well, he would just have to wait and see. There was plenty of time.
There were flowers on the table when they all sat down to eat. Denny lit the candles, and then the nightmare began. Martin Reardon dominated the conversation and actually ate his roast beef and vegetables with his hands! Norma tried to distract Denny and Joyce with "small talk" but finally their father's face actually fell in his plate! He refused coffee, then slobberingly kissed Denny and Joyce goodnight and stumbled off to bed. Without speaking, Denny and Joyce helped Norma clear the table. Then they watched television until 11:00 when Norma excused herself and went to bed.
In their own room, as they undressed, Joyce said to Denny, "Why didn't you tell me daddy had become a-a slobbering drunk?"
"Didn't I tell you that he drank and they argued quite a bit?" Denny said. "Uh-he doesn't always get like that. Don't worry, sis. It's gonna be a nice summer, you'll see."
Denny climbed into bed, wearing only his shorts. He lay there with his hands clasped behind his neck until Joyce had changed into her cotton nightgown. Then he felt his sister lift the covers and crawl into the bed beside him. "It's a strange room and a-a strange bed, Denny. Do you mind?"
"Heh-heh," Denny said. "Are you kidding? Come on in."
"Norma is very patient with daddy," Joyce whispered. "I like her a lot. And I can tell you like her a lot-by the way you look at her."
Joyce snuggled up very close now and Denny loved the pressing warmth of her body through the cotton nightie against him. "What about you and dad?" he said. "Jesus, is everybody in the world after everybody else's body-sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, step-parents, everybody?"
"You didn't see it all either," Joyce said. "After you went out into the kitchen with Norma, daddy put my hand on his-his thing! He had a hard-on, and he-he put my hand right on it!"
"When he gets drunk I guess anything's possible," Denny said, the jealously rising within him again. "Why don't you just get up and go away when he does that? Father's aren't supposed to… "
Joyce cuddled closer. "Next time I will," she said. "But what about you and Norma? Remember our agreement? Are you sure you've told me everything about you and Norma? I know you pretty well, Denny Reardon. I have a feeling you left something out."
"No," Denny lied. "I told you everything."
"Very well," Joyce said. "Then I have a confession to make. There's something I didn't tell you about. It's about Roger."
Roger Norris was Joyce's steady boyfriend in San Francisco. Denny had never liked him, because he was three years older than Joyce and had acne. Denny knew that all Roger wanted was to get inside his sister's pants. "O.K., tell me," Denny said.
"Roger and I've been going together for quite a while," Joyce said. "So before leaving him for the whole summer I decided to let him do a-a little something more than just-well, fooling around."
"You didn't let that pimple-puss fuck you!" Denny said.
"Of course not," Joyce said, "'Taut he taught me about French love."
"You mean tongues on your-your privates?"
"Yes, you do it to each other with your tongues and-and it feels wonderful. Ohhhhh, does it feel good!"
"I imagine it does," Denny said. He had heard about cock-sucking and cunt-lapping, of course. But he could not tell his sister that Norma had sucked him off last summer. He decided to behave somewhat innocently. For a long time now he had felt the urge to lick pussy. He saw lots of girls at school whose pussies he would love to lick, and of course he had thought of lapping Norma's snatch-not to mention sucking on his sister's hole. He wondered if maybe he could maneuver Joyce into that now! If she had let Roger Norris suck and kiss her pussy, why wouldn't she let her own brother do it? His heart began beating fast at the thought of this possibility.
"H-How did you do it?" he asked, his prick stirring inside his shorts.
"Well, we were just playing with each other," Joyce said. "Just kissing-uh-and then he was sucking my breasts. I was playing with his stiff prick, too. He has a really big prick, Denny-even a little longer than yours-and it was hard as a rock and oozing out some of his stuff. So he requested me to kiss it with my lips, and I did. So then he asked me to lick his pole a little, so I did. Finally, he even asked me to suck on it-just like he'd sucked on my nipples-but I thought I better not. I mean, I didn't want him to tell other boys I'd done that to him. Also, I was afraid he'd get so excited he might try to rape me or something. Boy, was he hot, though. He slid down on his knees onto the floor and licked my pussy. I was hot, too!"