"Your father invited… a party… I thought you," she stammered.
"I thought you had a shower tonight." John said.
"I did. I dropped over afterwards." John shrugged. Then he saw his sister. "What in the hell!" he shouted.
"She came home drunk." Joseph said.
"Where is her confounded husband?"
"He's working. He'll pick her up in the morning."
"Well, for God's sake, rouse the maid, get her in bed." John shouted. He looked again at his precious sister. "No, better not. She looks like a whore sprawled out in that chair. You put her to bed, Father."
Eva watched with horror at the confrontation between the two prominent men in her life, the father more in her life than she had ever imagined possible. And to her surprise, the old man went meekly to his daughter and tried to rouse her. She had never seen Joseph Richardson meek before.
"Drunk in her condition." John snorted with disgust. He watched his father try to get Nina to her feet. "Here, I'll do it," he said curtly, and went her the limp girl and lifted her from the chair.
Holding his sister in his arms, he turned to Eva. "You wait here. I'll put her to bed and then drive you home. You look terrible, Eva. You should be more careful of your appearance."
"I have my car. I can drive home." Eva said.
"I said I'll drive you home. You can get your stupid car tomorrow." He stomped from the room, carefully cradling Nina in his arms.
Eva watched him leave, shrugged her shoulders and sat down.
"The boy can be a real bearcat when he wants to," the old man said. He grinned at Eva and rubbed his crotch. It bulged obscenely.
CHAPTER THREE
The week following Eva's orgy with old man Richardson passed quickly and without further incident. She pondered the evening with a mixture of misgivings and exciting fantasy. They were a bizarre family, to say the least; John was a Victorian if ever one lived, and his old man was a lecher, and a hypocritical lecher at that, and Nina… God, what about Nina? She was knocked up higher than a kite, possibly by her own father, and out drinking and fucking with a young man who was not her husband.
The idea of Nina out fucking, bulging belly and all, sent tremors of lewd excitement racing down Eva's spine. She didn't know why, but it did.
Eva chain-smoked, lighting one cigarette from another, and finally went to the kitchen for her father's jug. A snort or two would calm her down, not get her drunk, heaven forbid. Tomorrow was her wedding day and a hangover was not in her plans, but just a nip to settle the nerves. She tipped up the bottle and drank it straight.
At her suggestion, her parents had gone to the movie. She wanted the evening alone to brood and cry and rant and rave like all pending brides do. She had the jitters and nagging doubts of pre-marriage and she wanted to wrestle with them alone. And God, was she alone; it was driving her mad. She took another slug from the jug and sat down in one of the stiff-backed kitchen chairs.
After her third jolt, she decided she felt better, calmer, more relaxed, and maybe even a bit tipsy. It was a good feeling.
The good feeling was interrupted by the insane jingling of the door bell. She got to her feet with remorse for her lost mood and stumbled through the house to the front door. She pulled the door open to a young man standing there with his hands in his pockets.
"Hi, Eva!" Ted Baxter said.
She stared at him standing in the eerie glow of the little yellow bug light her father had installed. Her hand went to her mouth. "I thought you were away at school," she said.
"I'm home between quarters," the young man said. "Aren't you going to ask me in?"
"Go away. Leave me alone." Eva said.
"Aw, come on, don't be a sorehead. I just came over to congratulate you on getting married."
Eva looked at her old lover cryptically, her eyes not quite focusing like they should.
"I really shouldn't. I hate you, you know. Well, okay, but just for a few minutes."
She pushed the screen door open and let him step inside. They stood in awkward silence for a minute before she went on into the living room and sat on the couch. Her mind was in a jumble. She didn't want to see Ted now… or ever. He started to sit beside her.
"Not so close!" she shouted.
"Gee, baby, you're really edgy," he said, and sat on the other end of the couch.
Several minutes of silence passed before Ted took a bottle from his pocket. "I brought a little something to toast the bride," he said, and took a drink. He then held it out to Eva. "Your turn."
"You know I don't drink much," she snapped, hoping he hadn't smelled her breath.
"You must not be very proud of what you're doing, won't even toast your own marriage." He continued to hold the bottle at arm's length.
Eva took the bait, even though she suspected he just wanted to get her drunk and have his way with her. "Oh shit!" she spat, and grabbed the bottle. The toast turned into a long drink. She needed it; her nerves were shot again. It warmed immediately in her belly and she burped, her face turned red.
Ted laughed. "Good stuff, huh? That was for good luck. Now let's have one in honor of Eva's wedding night," he said, and took another nip.
"That's cute." Eva said, giggling foolishly, and reaching out for the bottle.
Ted slid halfway across the couch to hand it to her. The bottle went quickly to her lips.
The small talk started then, about old times, things that had happened since, the bottle going steadily back and forth. They both talked inanely, knowing what the other was really thinking.
Finally the last swallow in the bottle arrived and Ted held it up to her lips. Her head tilted back and she drained the bottle. Ted was sitting very close to her now, and he had his arm tight around her shoulders. Eva was drunk, and she knew she was drunk, and she liked his arm around her. What harm could there be in that? They had been lovers once.
Ted dropped the empty bottle to the floor and kissed her, kissed her hard on the lips. Eva told herself that it meant nothing and let him kiss her again. Somehow, she couldn't imagine how, her arms went around him and her mouth was open receiving his tongue. She suckled hungrily on the meaty thing, a feeling of wetness creeping between her legs as if she needed to piss and couldn't quite hold it all.
"You mustn't, Ted, you mustn't, you mustn't," she moaned softly when she felt his hand cupping her sweating breasts through her blouse.
"God, honey, I love you, I really do. I don't want you marrying someone else," he said, sliding his hand up her thigh.
Eva grabbed his hand and pushed it away. "No, Ted, no," she cried, taking his hand and laying it at her crotch outside her skirt. "Maybe outside my clothes, but that's the limit."
Ted felt her heavy tits with one hand and groped futilely at her cunt through her skirt. "Come on, honey. I love you so much. Let's do it for old times' sake."
Eva knew it was bullshit. He didn't love her. He just wanted an easy piece of ass. "No!" she said firmly.
They continued kissing. Ted's hand was back under her blouse and he felt her mid section and then her tits, which hung loose and free under her blouse. He cupped the swelling globes and she wished she had a bra on. It excited her too much the way he fondled her bare tit and rolled the nipple into a peak of hardness. His other hand felt the wet crotch of her panties. She wondered how he'd sneaked under her skirt again. She opened her legs a little and let him feel, her own hand playing lightly over the hard lump in his trousers.
"Come on, honey, let's ball. I need you so bad, I'm starting to hurt." Ted pleaded.
"No! Goddamn you, I said no!" Eva cried, jerking her hand off his erection.
"Christ, honey, at least take it out and jack me off. I'm starting to get the stone aches, and you know what they do to a guy. It ain't going to hurt your fucking fiance any for you to do that."