Buck Fever

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | Epilogue

Chapter Seven

Though we'll never know for sure, it is better than even money that hearing Randy spurting in his sister lowered Bob's resistance to doing the same thing in Samantha.

Whether or not that was the case, after Sam had her first orgasm at the hands of her father, it became clear any resistance she had to submitting to the same behavior melted away.

After tensing every muscle in her body, she relaxed completely, only to roll toward her lover to seek his lips, engaging in their most passionate kiss to date. And that kiss resulted in Bob's body doing something completely natural under the circumstances. That was to flex the muscles in his hips, driving his erection against the soft, warm body of the woman in his arms.

That process was aided when she lifted one leg and draped it over his thigh, thus opening her treasure to his seeking prod.

It wasn't that either of them was actually trying to let the tip of his spike penetrate her defenseless opening. Rather it was simply their natural tendency to press against each other as that kiss went on and on. And, because both of their bodies were designed for this process, eventually the leaking tip of his penis did slide between the slippery lips that gave access to her reproductive tunnel.

When that happened, another burst of those natural urges caused him to push a little harder and, quite suddenly, without conscious intent, two inches of his prick slid effortlessly into her pussy.

There was no pain for Sam, not even the discomfort of being stretched. She had used the dildo Mallory had secretly obtained when they were fourteen many times. And Randy's penis, though slightly smaller than Bob's, had also conditioned her pussy to accept what Bob now offered. Likewise, though she was tight, the copious lubrication caused by their previous activity spread Bob's foreskin, sliding it back without painfully stretching it. The result was that Bob's penis was now streamlined.

When instinct and raw lust caused him to roll over on top of her, the result was that he smoothly slid balls deep into her.

His grunt was answered by her satisfied groan at being filled.

That process, however, broke the lip lock they had been so ardently enjoying.

"Ohhhh Daddy," moaned Samantha.

"Ohhh Baby," he replied.

The irony of his use of that word flew right past them. She was no longer his 'baby'.

Instead, they were in the process of doing something that might very well produce a new one.

But Bob didn't think about that. All he could think about was how good it felt to be deep inside her, and how impossible it was not to keep pushing as if he were trying to crawl inside her body, his penis forging the way. And, to be honest, that was very similar to what Sam was feeling. All she wanted at that instant was for that beautiful intruder to go deeper and deeper. Her legs spread as wide as she could get them as a result.

Bob humped her twice, executing hard, rapid thrusts, as her arms went around him in a grip that couldn't be broken. Almost immediately, her feet rose to slam down on his thighs as muscles in her abdomen jerked hard, thrusting up against him.

"Ohhhh Daddy!" she panted. This was entirely different than what she had experienced the night before. She did love Randy in ways that she loved no other male. But she had been unable to really enjoy his sexual attentions. The causes were myriad. Some part of her brain kept trying to remind her that she wasn't supposed to engage in this behavior with him. He was in a hurry as well, and as soon as he'd penetrated her, he was off to the races, urgently trying to dash to a blind finish. Most of all, the noises she kept hearing from the other end of the camper made her feel like she was missing out on something she hadn't even known she wanted so much. Not that she was consciously aware that she was jealous of Mallory, or even that she had feelings for her father she hadn't even suspected before.

Rather, there had just been too many obstacles in the way of really enjoying what Randy was doing. They weren't really lovers. All they were doing was going through the motions of having sex. And some unconscious part of her brain knew that.

This, though, was an entirely different set of circumstances. While she loved Randy, what she felt for her father trumped that in spades. He and she were partners in the deepest sense of the word, having struggled to salvage a home after her mother left. It had been the two of them against the world, and they had drawn close together to flourish, despite the handicap of being in a single parent family.

Not only that, but those feelings she hadn't known she had for him were now unleashed. Then there was the fact that she wasn't hearing what Mallory was feeling. She was feeling it herself.

In short, all the obstacles that had slowed her down the night before were gone. She could, in those intense moments, put on a burst of speed as the only hurdle that remained appeared in her way.

That was the fact that she was doing this with her father, something only two other people in the entire world might approve of.

Of course those two people would approve because they, like she, were engaging in incestuous delight.

A yip from Mallory caused her to roll her head. Randy was on top of her, either still, or again, and his pale buttocks were pumping regularly up and down. She could see Mal's hands on that pale butt, encouraging them to keep going.

But then her father, still deep inside her, rotated his hips, driving the base of his penis in a small circle. The top part of that shaft slid over her clit, mashing it, kissing it, mauling it, and she felt a spike of pure joy. Before she could analyze that feeling, it disappeared, only to come right back as he completed a circle. By the third time he did it, she no longer cared how it was happening. The rhythm he'd set up made her anticipate the next time he'd be on the 'high' side of a circle, at which time the streaks of pleasure she felt were almost indescribably delicious. She wasn't able to think of anything except the ecstasy she was being deluged with. Her mind, at that point, was incapable of making her throat pronounce actual words. Rather, her vocal cords simply vibrated as the air rushed past them.

Her second orgasm arrived while all that was going on. Now it sounded like it was Samantha being killed.

They were thrashing so much that it was impossible for Bob to kiss her to muffle her cries of completion. Instead, he just watched her as her face appeared and then disappeared in shadows. He concentrated on making her squeal, groan and cry out like that for as long as possible, knowing she was at the apex of joy as her pussy muscles squeezed and nipped at his prod. Though she sounded like she was dying, he knew she was just having a very good time. And that made him feel inordinately proud.

Some instinct told him when to pause, and let her catch a few breaths. He stopped deep inside her and just enjoyed the feel of her pussy milking him for his nectar. When the urge to spurt in her washed over him, he was too far gone to think about it. Instead, he started sliding in and out, increasing the friction and making his foreskin slide forward and back over the glans of his penis.

It only took eight or ten strokes before everything let loose. He drove in deep again, almost as if he were trying to seal a leak in a dam, like a little Dutch boy of yore, except he was using his penis instead of his finger. That plug didn't work, though, because it leaked, allowing long viscous spurts of dangerous fluid to jet into the place where such fluid might otherwise have been barred. The opening of the hose delivering that fluid parked right at the gate to her womb, bathing her cervix in a warm bath that it welcomed, flexing, similar to the mouth of a gold fish, welcoming a drink of that sperm-filled sustenance.

They collapsed like a house of cards, Bob falling on top of her, pressing her into the mattress. She didn't care, in fact welcomed his suffocating weight until he rolled, pulling her with him to keep the lock they had established at their loins.

Then they panted, saying nothing, just trying to get more air into their lungs.

While they did that, they heard Randy spurt in his sister again.

They all slept. It had been a long day, which would have been enough to wear them all out in the first place. When an hour of intense sexual activity was tacked onto that, it drained them of the energy to do anything except roll into a more comfortable position to sleep.

In the days, weeks and months to come, such nights would involve multiple engagements, as lovers woke with the desire to go again. But this night all they did was cuddle together with their chosen mate, and sleep a dreamless slumber that lasted until the alarm clock Bob had set went off with a jangling noise that grated on every nerve in the camper.

There was a flurry of activity which, interestingly, involved no speaking of any words. Somehow, by this time, it was as if they were at a nudist retreat, and there was a complete lack of nervousness or shyness about appearing in front of each other naked. Each took his or her turn in the little toilet, and then dressed to go out to the tree stands. Guns were taken from the long cabinet Bob kept them in and checked. Rounds for the rifles were placed in pockets, not to be loaded into the guns until they were in the stands, ready to wait for their unsuspecting prey.

Breakfast consisted of cold cereal and bananas.

Exactly twenty-two minutes after the alarm went off, they were trudging through the forest, trying not to make noise, as they proceeded toward their destination.

They all wore backpacks that contained water, jerky and other snacks.

Both girls had also stuffed blankets into their packs.

And not to ward off the chill of the morning.

The plan had been for the teams to change every day. The 'practice' of the day before was interpreted as a 'day' of hunting, probably because Mallory had shot a deer. So on this morning, when they got to Bob's stand, Mallory started up automatically. No one suggested that any changes be made. Sam and Randy trudged on toward their stand without speaking.

All that happened for the first two hours was hunting. In this situation that meant sitting as still and quietly as possible, watching the openings between the trees out in front of the tree stand. It gave one time to reflect on things, and it's almost always valuable to reflect on things.

But no deer appeared and, by seven both girls felt the need to say something. This is not to say that they were only filling the silence. Rather, that time to reflect on things had resulted in the desire to communicate with the person next to them.

In Mallory's case, what she wanted to tell Bob was that she felt lucky that he had been her first lover, and to thank him for that. She was quite serious, and her thanks were delivered from an emotional place very similar to that of one who had been given a precious gift, and recognized the value of that gift.

"Thank you," she said, her voice low.

"What'd I do?" he whispered.

"You showed me how it can be."

He looked over at her. Her brown eyes stared at him seriously. She wasn't teasing him.

"You're welcome," he said.

"I would never have known how to handle Randy if I hadn't been with you first," she said.

Bob had been doing some thinking too. It was impossible for him to banish all guilt, or thoughts of how many societal conventions he had already flouted on this trip.

"I shouldn't have done that, but I'm glad you feel like it turned out all right."

She glanced out into the forest.

"Why are adults always such buttheads?"

He didn't smile.

"We're expected to make the right choices. Sometimes in trying to do that, I guess we become buttheads."

"But it was so beautiful, so perfect. Something that amazing can't be wrong."

"Of course it can," he said. "Ask any heroin addict how beautiful the experience is."

"This isn't like that and you know it," she said.

"I could have made a baby in you, Mal," he said, softly. "And your brother was obviously trying to do that last night."

"I thought we decided it wasn't dangerous right now," she said.

"And I went and did exactly the same thing to Sam last night," he sighed.

"Boy, did you!" said Mallory, grinning for the first time.

"After you and I talked about your period, I meant to ask her about hers," he said.

"She and I have them at the same time. We have for years," said Mal.

"No kidding?"

"Yup. Haven't you noticed when we have sleepovers at your house?"

"I noticed you have them," he said, "but not when."

"Most of our sleepovers are at our house. That's because Randy is there. Randy can't come to a sleepover at your house. That would look suspicious."

"I guess so," said Bob.

"So when we don't feel like dealing with a boy, we sleep over at your house," she said.

"But that's when you flirted with me the most," said Bob, thinking back to some of those sleepovers.

"I get extra horny when I'm on my period. But I knew nothing would happen," she said. "And it was so much fun to flirt. "

"Fun for you," said Bob. "You got me going. Sometimes I had to do something about it."

"You mean jerk off?" She grinned slyly.

"Yes," he said.

"I wish I'd have known," she said. "I would have offered to help you."

"If you'd have done that then you'd have lost your cherry when you were fourteen," he said.

She shook her head. "I don't think so. I wasn't ready back then."

"But you are now?"

She nodded.

"So what changed?"

She shrugged. "I have no idea. It just feels right now."

"Well, it isn't."

"Oh, poo," she said. "Don't be a butthead."

"What am I supposed to do?" he asked.

"Kiss me," she said, promptly.

"We're hunting, here, Mallory."

"No we're not. The deer are probably all off somewhere kissing, or doing whatever deer do when they like each other."

"Didn't you get enough last night?" asked Bob. "You two went at it like rabbits."

"Last night was fun," she said. "Because you showed me how it was supposed to be, I was able to teach Randy to do most of those things. It was like I had this super power and could make him do anything I wanted. And the crazy thing was that he got it right away. He's a quick learner. Yeah, we had a lot of fun, thanks to you."

"I don't know whether to laugh or cry," sighed Bob.

"I know Sam had a great time too," said Mallory.

"How could you? You haven't had time to have one of your little confabs this morning."

"I heard her. Once I even had an orgasm just because of how she sounded. It was crazy. I would never have believed it if somebody said I could cum just from hearing someone else cum."

Bob felt his prick stiffening in his pants. Her description brought back memories. A thought jumped into his mind. If Mallory was trying to turn their tree stand into a love nest, what was happening in the other one?

In the other tree stand, things proceeded in vaguely the same manner. There were two hours of vigilant silence, give or take and, as in Bob and Mal's case, they saw nothing. Sam leaned companionably against Randy's shoulder. That didn't cause him any stress, because his other shoulder was leaning against the tree trunk.

While Bob and Mallory were exploring a relationship that had to be characterized as "new" or "rapidly developing", what Sam and Randy were involved in was more of an "adjustment" to what had already been going on.

Sam had, on uncountable occasions, happily and lovingly stroked Randy's penis, sometimes sucking the tip, until it erupted. Likewise, he had happily and lustily licked and sucked her pussy until she convulsed. Another component of that was Mallory, of course. The two girls had experimented when they were prepubescent, as many close friends do. It wasn't a situation of lesbian intent. Rather it was simple curiosity, assuaged with someone you trusted not to do anything strange or, most importantly, tell anyone else what had happened.

So there was a sort of ménage a trois, except it was only partial, in that the penis involved never penetrated either of the vaginas involved. Call it, if you will, a ménage a trios in the making.

The only thing that had changed, really, was that the ménage a trios was now complete in a formal sense. It wasn't a smoothly working, well-oiled lover's arrangement, but the parts all seemed to work. At least thus far.

During their hours of reflection, Randy's attention was on the difference between how things had been with Sam, that first night, and what had transpired with Mallory, just hours in the past. Mallory had told him exactly what she was doing, and that she intended to show him what Uncle Bob had done to her. That played to the fact that he idolized his Uncle Bob, and already wanted to be like him.

And Randy was, in fact, a quick learner. He became aware within minutes of how shabbily he had treated Sam, without even knowing it. Like Sam, he'd been less than ecstatic about their first joining. Like her, he'd had a fantasy of what it would be like, and like her, his evaluation of the event found it to be less than completely satisfying.

When he spoke, his words were fueled by that reflection.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Sam had been thinking about how topsy turvy her world was. Intellectually, she knew she shouldn't have these kinds of feelings for her father. She knew, for that matter, that people would look askance at her relationship with Randy. But she decided she didn't care. She felt like she'd actually lost her virginity to her father, and that experience was something she would treasure for the rest of her life. Even if it never happened again - and she intended to see that it did! - she was glad in a bone deep kind of way for every second of the experience.

"What for?" she asked.

"For our first time," he said, not knowing anything else to call it.

"You mean the night before last?"

"Yeah. I was stupid. I'm sorry."

"You weren't stupid," she said, leaning harder against him briefly.

"Mallory told me things last night," he said. "She showed me now not to be in such a hurry. I wish I'd done that with you."

"You can show me next time," she said.

"Really? You're going to let me do it again?"

"I don't think of it as you doing something to me," she said. "I think of it as us doing something together."

"Sure," he said. "That's what I meant."

"Well of course we have to do it again. You're going to marry me some day, remember? You've been promising me that since we were kids."

He grinned.

"I was kind of pathetic, wasn't I."

"No, you were sweet. That's why I love you."

"What about your dad?" asked the boy.

"I love him too," she said, simply.

"Like I love Mal?"

"Something like that," she said.

"You were really loud last night," he said.

"So were you," she countered.

"I was really having fun," he explained.

"So was I," she sighed.

"I hope we can have that much fun sometime," he said.

"We will," she said.

"Want to right now?" he asked.

She slapped his shoulder.

"Men are all such pigs."

"What?" He tried to sound injured.

"You're horny all the time," she said.

"That's your fault," he argued.

"And Mallory's."

"And Mallory's," he admitted.

"Girls aren't always horny," she said. "Like right now, I'm not. I like being here with you, but the most I'd want to do is make out a little."

"Mallory is always horny," he said, hopefully.

"Mallory is a slut."

"No she's not. You shouldn't say that about her."

"Does it hurt her feelings?" Sam expressed real concern.

"No, but I think it encourages her."

"Don't you want to encourage her?"

"Yeah, I guess so," he sighed. "This gets confusing sometimes."

"Would it help if I gave you a hummer?"

He brightened. "Sure!"

"Okay, see if you can get your pants down without falling out of this tree."

In the other tree stand, Mallory had seduced Bob into "making out for a little while," as she put it. Of course that involved letting hands wander, and hers found his semi tumescent member.

"See? You are horny," she said.

"I don't want to knock you up," he growled.

"So let me help you now," she said. "I missed all those years of helping you. I can start making up for them now."

Which was how she seduced him into exposing his rampant member so she could stroke it.

She did that happily, staring at it, examining it as her hand went up and down. Randy had been circumcised, and his was the only other penis she'd ever been able to inspect. This one looked so different at one second, and so similar the next, as her hand went up and down. It was fascinating.

Eventually, she dipped her head to capture the tip in her mouth.

"Fuck, Mallory," groaned Bob.

Her head came up, her eyes bright.

"I will if you will," she said.

Sam was also having a good time, wringing moans and grunts out of Randy. She was taking her time, making it last, something she knew drove him crazy.

"Please," he moaned. "Let me spurt."

"You'll get there," she assured him.

His eyes bored into hers.

"I want to put it in you," he huffed.

"No," she said.

"Come on. I apologized. And I really did learn things from Mal. It will be better. I promise."

"I don't want to get pregnant," she said.

His eyes opened wide and he froze.

"Shit! I never thought of that!"

She kept stroking.

"What if I got Mal pregnant last night?" he gasped.

"You probably didn't. It's the wrong time of the month."

"Fuuuck," he said, air gushing from his lungs. "Mom would kill us."

"You got that right," said Sam.

"So I can't ever put it in you again?" He was obviously unhappy about that.

"You can't spurt in me," she corrected.

"I don't understand," he said.

"Don't you remember in sex ed? I think it's called withdrawing, or something like that. You pull it out before you actually shoot."

"That wouldn't be any fun," he said. "The best part is pushing as far as you can and letting go."

"You could pull it out and finish in my mouth," she suggested.

"That would be okay," he panted. "I didn't know until this trip but both of those feel a lot alike."

"Well, that's what you have to do with me. At least until we can get some condoms."

"Deal!" he agreed.

"We can't do it up here in the tree," she said.

"Let's get down then," was his answer to their dilemma.

"I brought a blanket," she said, smiling.

"I thought you said you weren't horny," he pointed out.

"Things change," she said, unbuttoning her shirt.

"We can't do that sort of thing in a tree," said Bob.

"I brought a blanket," said Mallory, reaching for her back pack.

"You planned this!" he accused.

"Of course I did. It's my turn again with you tonight, but I don't want to wait that long." She adopted a fainting woman pose, with the back of one hand against her forehead. "You have ruined me for other men, you beast."

"There had better not be any other men," growled Bob. He blinked. "Except for Randy." He blinked again. This was crazy!

"I don't want any other men," said Mallory. She shrugged out of her jacket and, despite the lingering chill in the Indian Summer weather, pulled her T shirt up and over her head. It got caught in her pony tail, and Bob stared at her exposed breasts, riding high on her chest at the moment. Her nipples were already stiff. She got the shirt loose and casually dropped it on her back pack. "Suck my nipples?" she offered.

"On the ground," he said, giving in.

"Ohhhhh, you're doing much better," moaned Sam.

Randy loomed over her, holding himself up off her upper body as his lower body did something similar to what her father had done the night before. Instead of going in circles, Randy just sagged his hips and rocked forward and backward, moving his penis inside her only an inch or two. The result was almost the same, but enjoyable in completely different way. She could feel her passion, but it felt more manageable. With her father, she lost control of everything. It had felt like she was a leaf in a tornado. But this was something she could lie there and just enjoy. Maybe for hours.

"Thanks," he said. "Mal told me to do this. It seemed stupid at first, because it's harder to cum this way, but then I realized it was a lot more fun for her."

"It is for me too," she panted.

"If it's more fun for you, it's more fun for me too," he said. He frowned. "The only problem is I can't reach your titties with my mouth in this position."

"You can play with them later," she huffed. "Keep doing that. I'm going to cum."

"Goody," he said. "I want to, too."

She forgot to remind him to pull out so he could finish in her mouth.

He remembered, but only as the semen rushed through his penis.

He left one stripe of white inside her on his way out. He didn't have time to make it up to her mouth.

He just finished by pumping it out on her belly.

"See?" panted Mallory. "I knew this was a good idea. I like doing it this way!"

She was on top of Bob, who was lying on his back, playing with her breasts as she jerked her hips around, figuring out how best to take advantage of this position.

"It goes so deep," she groaned.

"In this position it makes it harder for me to cum" said Bob. "So we can go longer."

"I like going longer," she panted, leaning into his hands. "Oooo!" she squealed as she found the perfect angle to scrape her clit."

"I do too," said Bob, as he drank in her naked beauty. Generally, the impulse in men is to ejaculate as quickly as possible. Get the job done. Fertilize the woman. But there are times when a woman can encourage him to take his time. She does that, generally, by saying things that make him want to extend the event. She may not even be aware she is doing so. It was a little like that with Mallory. She didn't know it, but her praise of his prowess fed his ego. Just accepting him as her lover made him feel manly and powerful. And looking up at her re-enforced that feeling.

"Oh yeah," she sighed, leaning even farther forward. "Gonna cum."

This one wasn't loud. Rather, she seemed to milk it for as much time as possible as her pussy fluttered around his cock. She chanted, "Oh yeah," six or seven more times, jerking her loins against him with each "yeah!"

Unfortunately, that process brought him off. It happened suddenly and by the time a warning was on his lips, it was too late. His hands did push at her, but all that did was sit her straight up, so that her whole body weight pressed her cervix against the tip of his spurting cock.

The mucus plug nature had put there to keep germs out of her womb was dislodged, and sperm-laced semen flowed into her womb.

"Ohhhh, I like that part," she moaned.

"You made a mess!" said Sam, sitting up.

"I know. I'm sorry. I always screw things up," Randy moaned.

"It's not the end of the world," she said. "Hand me your underwear."


"To clean me off, of course."

"But then I won't be able to put them back on."

"So, girls go commando sometimes. Don't boys too?"

"You go commando sometimes?" He had just ejaculated, but his penis twitched.

"Sometimes," she said.

"Mal, too?"

"Sometimes," said Sam.


"You're cursing a lot, lately," said Sam.

"Sorry," he said. He reached for the clothing item requested. "Here," he said, handing it to her.

She took it and wiped it across her abdomen. He watched with interest.

"I want to do it again already," he said.

"I know girls can be sluts," observed Sam, looking up at him, darkly. "I wonder what they call boys who are sluts." She dabbed at her pussy lips. "You got some in me."

"Sorry. I forgot to take it out until the last moment."

"If you can't go by the rules, then I'm not going to let you play," she said.

"I'll do better next time," he promised.

"You'd better," she said, standing up.

"Can I try again now?" he asked, hopefully. He was holding his half hard penis in his hand.

"No, you cannot," she said, with excessive patience.

"Practice makes perfect," he said, hopefully.

"You can practice with Mallory," she said.

"Good idea," said Randy, completely missing her sarcasm. "I wonder if it's late enough we could stop hunting and go over there to see what they're doing."

"They are probably sitting in the tree, actually hunting," said Sam.

They were not in the tree, of course, and not hunting. Mallory was in the act of standing up, which allowed a long, thick stream of Bob's spunk to drip out of her pussy. It extended, in a rubbery fashion, until it hovered over Bob's sperm-covered penis, now flaccid and lying sideways on his stomach above his balls. It looked a little like an accident victim, lying lifeless beside a strange looking car. It also looked like his sperm was trying to find a way to get to the tip of his cock and back into his body.

"I don't care if it's dangerous," she said. "I really love the feeling of you shooting in me. It's all warm."

"It's all dangerous," he countered.

"I just said I don't care," she said.

"So what happens if you get pregnant?"

"Well, I guess I have a baby," she said.

"That would ruin your life, Mallory."

"Why? I've always wanted to be a mother."

"What about college?"

"I'm not all that sure I even want to go to college," she said.

"Hold on. Remember when you said you weren't going to marry me? Mothers usually have husbands to go along with babies."

"Not these days," said Mallory. "There are tons of single moms out there."

"How do they support themselves?"

"I don't know. They have a job, I guess."

"And do you have a job?"

"Well duh. I'm still in high school."

Bob just looked at her, waiting for her to connect the dots.

"Oh," she said, looking downcast. "I get it."

"You can't just have a baby and there not be consequences," said Bob.

"Mom has always said she wanted to have more children," said Mallory. "She'd help me raise it."

"But she wouldn't be happy about it," said Bob.

"Yeah. But I also know she wants grandchildren."


"Because she knits and crochets and she has a whole box full of stuff she's made for babies. She says she's getting ready for when we grow up and give her grandbabies."

"You're kidding me," said Bob. "I didn't know that."

"Yes you did. You've seen her knitting hundreds of times."

"Yes, but I never asked her what she was making."

"Anyway, you're right. It's too early to be having babies."

"It is."

"Especially since I'm not allowed to have a boyfriend until senior year."

"I didn't know that either," said Bob.

"Yeah. I can go on dates, but it has to be with different guys."

"I knew you were going out with lots of different guys," said Bob. "I just thought you were popular."

"Did you think Sam was popular too?" she asked.

He thought about that. Sam did go out on dates sometimes, but she never talked about any particular boy, and her dates always sounded antiseptic when he inquired about them.

"I never thought about it," he admitted.

"She does the same thing. She doesn't want a boyfriend right now. Neither of us do, really."

"Because you have Randy," said Bob.

"Especially now," said Mal.

"We're going to have to get you on the pill," said Bob. "Sam too."

"That will be interesting," said Mallory. "How are you going to explain that to my mother?"

"I'm not," said Bob. Her eyebrows went up. "You are," he finished.

"Me? No way! I can't go to her and say, 'Gee, Mom, what with Uncle Bob and Randy fucking me so much, it might be a good idea for you to get the pill for me.'"

"That's not how you put it, you silly girl," said Bob. "You just say something about how you're growing up, and having urges, and you'd feel better if you were on the pill so no accidents could happen."

"She won't buy that," said Mal. "She'll think I'm trying to get set up to have sex."

"You are," he said.

"Yeah, but I can't let her know that."

"She'll know when your belly swells up with a baby in it," said Bob. "Which way do you prefer?"

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