Fooling Around 101 - Version Alpha

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Chapter Seven

It turns out that having a family argument about whether or not Uncle so and so should be sliding his big, nasty boner into niece whoever, is a really good sexual buzz kill. Cindy didn't say anything as we got in the car and left the hospital. She didn't offer me a blow job on the way home and, despite her earlier comment, did not prance around naked once we got home.

Instead, she paced, frowning, deep in thought. At one point she looked at nothing in particular and said, I'm not sure to whom, "I just wanted to be happy!" About ten minutes later she stopped again, this time clearly addressing the television set, which was off. "I've waited so long! It's just not fair!"

I thought about how, at her tender age, "so long" amounted to less time than the average person spends in high school. But I knew better than to point that out to her. Clearly, her glass was half empty right now, and me telling her it was half full wouldn't help.

An hour later, the front door opened and closed. I was pouring a cup of coffee at the time, and I heard Cindy's footsteps hurrying toward the living room.

"Mark!" she blurted.

I sighed and left the coffee on the counter. I didn't want to be trying not to spill it while I broke up a fight. Or was involved in one. Since Mark hadn't shown hide nor hair at my place since the living arrangements changed, I was pretty sure this wasn't a spontaneous desire to catch up on things. I was also pretty sure he'd gotten a call from his brother.

I suspected Dennis' part of the conversation started out something like this:

"Mark! Uncle Bob's porking Cindy! Yes! He's doing her, man! I just found out! And Mom knows! And they aren't going to stop! We have to stop them, dude! Come get me. We have to do something!"

I don't know if you know any sets of twins. They're all around, it seems, and yet very few people actually know a pair. Perhaps, because of that, we tend to assume that twins are alike in everything, not just looks. Of course I knew differently, but I was reminded again of how different twins could be by Mark's attitude towards what his frantic brother had called him about. When I walked in, Cindy was in his arms, bawling, and he was telling her how everything was going to be all right.

He looked at me when I walked in and said, "You dog." But it wasn't harsh. It was more like, "You sly dog!" even though he wasn't smiling. Cindy made it impossible for him to smile.

"Dennis is going to ruin everything!" she cried.

"No he's not. Calm down. He just needs some time to get used to the idea, that's all."

"He'll try to stop us!" she insisted.

"Stop crying," he ordered. "We'll work this out. He loves you. Look at me! I'm not used to the idea either, but I still love you."

She pushed away from him, holding his biceps in her hands.

"You do?" She let go of one arm to rub her eyes with the back of that hand.

"Of course I do," he said. "And Dennis will come around too. Now, would you please go put on a bra? This is hard enough as it is."

"What?" She blinked. She had stopped crying, as if by magic.

"You're not wearing a bra," he said. "It's obvious under that shirt, because I can kind of see through it."

Cindy's hands came up and her fingertips covered the tip of each breast. Her face flushed under the mussed hair that was half covering it. She looked poised for flight. I don't think I've ever seen a more erotic looking fully-dressed woman. Her fingers only brought your attention to her breasts.

"Why are you looking at my breasts?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"Why do you think Dennis is so freaked out about Uncle Bob?" he asked, calmly. "Dennis and I have always thought you were a cutie. One of the hottest chicks in town, actually. We couldn't do anything about it except dream, of course. Then he finds out that incest isn't a huge turn off to you, and that Uncle Bob got to sneak in under the radar, where we were afraid to even get into the air."

Cindy looked shocked, then outraged. She sputtered, but all she was capable of was a long, drawn out "Ewwwwwww!"

Mark grinned. "Okay. Now you know how Dennis and I feel. But we'll get over it. Dennis is just having a little more difficulty doing that than I am. I actually do think you're kind of cute, but obviously not as cute as Uncle Bob does."

Cindy finally understood that he had only been making a point, rather than telling her he wanted to have sex with her. The mixture of relief and white hot anger was almost funny to watch play over her face.

"So you two guys don't ... um ... see me like ... that?" she asked, hope vibrant in her voice.

"Nope," he said. "Sorry. We know you too well to be turned on by you. You're cute, but not that cute. But it really did help you understand how we might react ... right?"

"You turd," she said, but there was no real heat in it. "It's not like that. I've been in love with Uncle Bob since I was twelve. I never even looked at any boys as anything but other people my age. I guess I'm used to the idea. I call him Uncle Bob, but I don't think of him as my uncle. Does that make sense?"

"I guess," he said. "I think of him as this cool adult guy I know. I mean I know he's my uncle, but that doesn't define him."

"I'm right here," I said.

"We know," said Mark. He didn't look at me when I said it.

"Maybe I should let you two talk," I said.

"Are you happy?" he asked his sister. " Really happy?"

"I was," she said. "I can't be happy if Dennis and you are upset with me."

"Can I ask you some questions?" he asked.

"Sure," she said.

"Even if they are about private stuff?"

"I don't know. I'll have to hear the questions."

He looked at me. "What's the age of consent in this state?"

"Actually, I have no idea," I said.

"So you didn't plan this?"

I laughed. "You two talk. Cindy, I recommend you answer all his questions. If I end up in jail, then this really wasn't a good idea, no matter badly you wanted it. Like you said, you'll never be able to be really happy until the family rift is healed."

I turned and left the room.

That does not mean, however, that I didn't eavesdrop a little.


Most of what they said, I couldn't hear. Twice I heard her high-pitched voice, filled with emotion, yell "You can't ask me that!" Another time she said "That's none of your fricking business!" After a whole half hour had passed without any exclamations like that, though, I went to my office and did some work on a project I was pursuing. When I sensed a presence in the doorway behind me, and turned to see Cindy standing there, I looked at my watch. Three hours had vanished into the mists of time.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yes," she said, firmly.

"Is Mark okay?"

To this, she only nodded.

"What now?" I asked.

She unbuttoned her blouse. She had not gone and put on a bra. When she pushed her skirt down, I realized she'd been commando all day.

"I'm horny," she said. "I need my man to make me feel good."


"I don't know how long we have," she panted, under me, as I lunged into her. I was particularly enthusiastic about making love to her, quite possibly because I had thought it might never happen again. She liked to be pounded, followed by deep probing while I moved my loins against hers, mashing her clitty. I had been doing that for fifteen minutes.

"What?" I gasped, fighting off the urge to fertilize her.

"They're letting Dennis go today," she said. "He called Mark to come get him. Mark stopped off here on his way. He says he understands now, and he'll try to explain it to Denny, but he may still want to come here and talk to me."

"Oh shit," I groaned.

"Don't stop," she said immediately. "I locked the doors."

"You think I can keep doing this while the horde is beating down the castle portal?"

She laughed. "Cum in me. You can do this later."

She knew what to say to make me crazy. She had paid attention.

"Squirt me," she said, putting her milkmaid's muscles to work. "Make me all warm and gooey inside."

"Oh man," I gasped. I wasn't able to hold it off any longer.

"Goooood boy," she murmured as I flooded her.


I was working on another project and Cindy was taking a shower when the boys showed up. Dennis was much more subdued. For lack of anything better to say, I asked him how he was doing. He said he was still in pain, but glad to be out of the hospital. He said the doctor felt like Jill would be there for another week before her bones had knit well enough to finish healing at home.

I will always believe that Cindy was testing the boys, based on what Mark had said to her about the twins lusting after her. She did that by coming into the living room fresh out of the shower, wearing one of her racier bra and panty sets. She was combing out her tangled, wet hair. She looked pretty delicious, I'll tell you that.

"Please!" said Dennis. "Don't throw it in my face!"

"Markie says you guys lusted after me. I just thought you might like a little show."

Dennis looked at his brother, who said, "I'll tell you about it later. Just tell her she looks nice, but you're not interested."

"You look nice, but I'm not interested," said Dennis, his voice sounding a bit sad.

"Ohhhh," she said, in that voice reserved for cute little kids and puppies. "Thank you. I'll go put something on. You're not going to beat Uncle Bob up, are you?"

"No," he sighed.

When she was gone, he looked at me. He wasn't happy, but he wasn't angry either.

"Mark talked to her. Now I'd like to talk to you."

"Okay," I said. "You want to go somewhere?"

He looked at his brother. "Go keep her busy for a while. I'll come get you when I'm ready to go."

"Gotcha," said Mark. "You think she'll get upset if I ask if I can watch her get dressed?"

Dennis just waved him away, and then turned back to me.

"Did you plan this?" he asked. He wasn't beating around any bushes.

"No." There wasn't really anything else to say, and I didn't want to sound like I was protesting too much.

"So how did it happen?"

I was pretty sure Cindy had already told Mark that, and that Mark had shared everything he knew with his brother. Maybe this was a test, to see if I'd be truthful.

"She came to me one night and asked me to show her what a romantic kiss was like. I wasn't expecting that, and I think I was a little rattled. In fact, she rattles me a lot. That's not an excuse. It's just hard for me to think clearly when she's ... I don't know what to call it. Anyway, I did that. I thought that was all she wanted. I have since found out differently."

"So you're saying it's all her fault," he said.

"No. I'm saying it's really easy to give in to her when she wants something."

"Would you seriously think about marrying her?" he asked.

I took my time answering. "First off, I'd have to be sure that she wasn't just going through some phase. One of the differences between us, based on our ages, is that it's easy for her to fall in love, because she's never been hurt. But you know as well as I do that young women, especially women her age, can be fickle. Do I believe she loves me right now? I believe she believes it. But that doesn't mean she'll still believe it six months from now. Do I love her? Absolutely. But the kind of love I love her with is new and still evolving. So I guess the answer to your question is, if I thought it would work, yes, I'd marry her."

"But you don't think it would work right now." His voice was tight.

"Not today. Not tomorrow. I think it needs a little time for her to get used to all this, and then she can make better decisions."

"But in the meantime, you'll fuck her."

I took a deep breath. "That's really none of your business, Dennis. That's between Cindy and me."

I expected him to bristle. But he didn't. Instead he just sat down and rubbed his face.

"I never thought of her actually growing up," he said.

"It kind of took me by surprise too," I said. "I mean I watched it, and I knew some guy was going to be lucky out of his mind, but I sure never expected it to be me."

"I knew she had a crush on you," said Dennis. "Anybody could see that."

"I didn't."

"You let her sit on your lap and cuddle."

"All uncles let their nieces sit on their laps and cuddle. For the vast majority of them, that's all that turns out to be!"

"What's it like?" His voice had a strange component to it.

"What's what like?"

"You know ... being with her."

"You've got to be shitting me," I said. "You can't ask a man something like that!"

"I know," he said, miserably. "But she seems like someone so completely different ... I mean when I think about her ... like that. That's just not Cindy! She doesn't do that!"

I had been sitting for this conversation. Now I got up and went to stand right in front of him.

"You do have the hots for your sister," I said, my voice low.

He looked into my eyes for five or six seconds, and then looked away.

"Maybe a little," He finally admitted.

"Then you can understand how I might have been attracted to her as well ... yes?"

He closed his eyes.

"Fuck!" he groaned, explosively.

His eyes opened, and he looked back into mine.

"If you hurt her I'll pound you into the ground."

"Fair enough," I said.


I never told Cindy that one of her big brothers actually did have a little letch for her. Then again, she wasn't a stupid girl by any stretch of the imagination. She pushed him around, sometimes ... almost like she knew she had some kind of hold over him. Then again, maybe it was just sibling dynamics. I don't know. I never had a sister.

Cindy stayed at my house, even though her brothers were back home together, and she could have gone there too. Her sexual habits, while she stayed with me, never varied after that. Basically, she got me in bed as often, and for as long as she could each day. No woman has ever been that interested in my penis. It was a rush, let me tell you.

She stayed until her mother went home. Then she left me and took care of Jill. After that, if I was at their house, and stayed past bedtime, I usually got a slow, loving blow job, but that was all. Then, the next day, after school, Cindy would show up at my house and just flat wear me out. She wasn't fussy. She wanted lots of foreplay involving her breasts, followed by a couple of orgasms with my mouth glued to her clitty, and then having me in her for half an hour or so. That last part was the hard part. She had learned that I had a short fuse when she started talking about her getting pregnant. I'll never forget the time she said I could cum in her, and get her pregnant, and then told me that she really wanted to see what it was like for her belly to swell with a baby in it. She was on top of me at that moment, and she leaned over and said: "If you don't get me pregnant pretty soon, I'm going to have to let some other man take a shot at it. Is that what you want?"

I erupted almost immediately, of course, not because I thought the idea of some other man doing this to her was erotic. I hated that part. I was just trying to get her pregnant. She laughed as I came, and told me she loved me.

As we lay in each other's arms, catching our breath, though, she whispered that no other man would ever touch her, no matter what.


It was an insane time of my life. The vast majority of men are consistently with a woman within five years of his own age. If he's a teenager, his lover is too. When he's mid-twenties, so is she. And by the time he's in his late thirties, the women he has intimate relationships with, have had intimate relationships with other men, most likely. They've been riding the roller coaster of love for a while, and some of the terrifying, exhilarating, adrenaline-producing parts of sex have moderated in them. Oh, they still like sex, with the right man, but it is more subdued, and less celebratory, by and large.

But I was with a teenager, who was experiencing things for the first time, and still manic about it all. And she made me manic too. I couldn't wait to see, touch and feel her naked skin against mine. Sometimes all I could think about all day long was getting her in bed after school. At the same time, I was fully aware of the potential for unhappiness if she really did get pregnant right then. She wouldn't know the difference. To her, it would be just another step on the fascinating path she had chosen to follow. She would probably have a great time, at least until she went into labor.

But later in life, she'd learn just how much she'd had to give up to walk that path. And there might be regrets then.

So Jill and I conspired. During their "girl talk" her mother convinced her that vitamins were a necessity for any young woman who was sexually active. And one of the "vitamins" Cindy was given was really a birth control pill that her doctor approved on the sly.

But that only worked until she graduated from high school. Then she moved in with me permanently. Jill and I thought we had been so clever, slipping her the pill like that. But when she left home, to live with me, she handed her mother the Vitamin B12 bottle, which actually contained Lybrel brand continuous use birth control pills.

"I won't be needing these any more," she said.

"Vitamin B12 is important for your brain," argued her mother.

"Mom, I know what's in it," sighed Cindy.

Knowing the jig was up, Jill just said "Oh?"

"It says there are a hundred and twenty tablets, but for some reason they put pills in this bottle. We learned the difference between tablets and pills in chemistry this year. And the bottle never seems to get empty. Plus this one is getting a little ratty. You should have substituted a new bottle now and then."

"Oh."

"I love you, Mommy," said Cindy, as she hugged her mother. "But I don't need them any more."

"Oh, baby," cried Jill, and they hugged and all that female bonding stuff. At least that's how it was described to me by Jill later.

That's because Cindy never told me she tumbled to what we were doing. She just stopped taking the pills.

And, of course, kept fucking me senseless.

She was pregnant within three months.


She went to city college while our first child gestated. Then, because she didn't want our relationship to be more complicated than necessary, we moved to Canada. We didn't actually get married. But in Canada, things are different. Imagine being in America, just about anywhere, and introducing yourself like this: "Hi, I'm Bob Caldwell. This is my niece, Cindy, and this is our child, Thomas." To say that eyebrows would rise is to understate things by leaps and bounds. But in Canada, more often than not, the response is: "Hello. Glad to meet you. Fine looking boy there."

We found out completely by accident how simple it can be to pull a ruse on Canada's more Puritanical southern neighbors. We went down to Danny and Mark's university graduation, and while there, Cindy introduced us as Bob and Cindy Caldwell, and our son, Tommy. People just assumed we were married.

And did you know that, the first time you file your taxes jointly in America, there is no requirement to supply proof of marriage? If the last names are the same on your Social Security records, nobody seems to dig any deeper.

It took her eight years to get her degree, but for both of us, those eight years were just glorious. Granted, it was a little hectic for me, taking care of two, then three, then four babies while she was at class, or doing her homework. But since she breast fed, there wasn't all that much required of me when they were under two. Changing diapers and keeping them entertained was mostly what I had to do. Then she'd finish her homework and take over while I worked on projects.

And now that she's ready to enter the job market, as a graphics designer, she'll probably be able to do a lot of her work at home. So she hasn't really had to sacrifice a family for a career, or vice versa.

And me?

Imagine walking along the beach, and stubbing your toe on something buried in the sand. Then imagine digging around it and discovering it's a box of some sort. You dig a little farther and determine it's actually a small chest, all stained and rusted shut. In this imaginary scene, you take it home and chip away at the corrosion, until it finally opens.

And it contains thousands of gold doubloons.

That's what I felt like.

Actually, that's what I still feel like now, because every night, I get to unlock that treasure again. I usually lay it on the bed, and carefully unwrap it, exposing first her breasts, and then the rest of her. She stretches, and touches herself, saying things like, "Touch me here," or, "Lick me right there." And eventually we couple, and I lunge into her, trying to crawl inside that treasure chest, wishing I could pull the top closed to lock me inside her forever.

Of course then one of the kids cries out for some reason, and one of us gets up, naked, to pad to the nursery, or one of the children's rooms, to solve whatever problem has intruded on our joy.

But I still have forty years left, if I take care of myself, and eat right and exercise and all that.

I didn't used to look forward to growing old.

Now I do, because I have someone to grow old with.

And the oddest part of this isn't that she's my niece. I stopped thinking of her that way years ago. No, the oddest part is when the mother of my children puts the tip of her index finger on her clit, and husks, "Tickle me right there."

I know it sounds bizarre, but sometimes I think her subconscious brain remembers the first time I tickled her there.

The End

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