Trick Or Treat With Uncle Bob

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is another story written as a result of a challenge, from a reader named Big Joe.

This is the challenge he wrote: "Write a story called TRICK or TREAT with UNCLE BOB, located somewhere on the east coast, with weather conditions that caused all the pumpkins in a 2 state area to be destroyed. The story has to include Uncle Bob, his half sister Betty, his two lovely nieces Alice, sixteen, and Mary, seventeen. Betty has to be a single Mom by virtue of her husband having been killed in a meteor shower. Uncle Bob has to somehow save the day with pumpkins. An additional requirement is that "The 2 girls are in the 4H club. Mary is raising a lamb and Her sister Alice is working the Apple orchard so Mary has a little LAMB and her sisters nick name is APPLE ass ALICE > Does this help you along the path ? Chuckle Chuckle. See if you can make this one work I know it will be a tough.

Best Regards > Big Joe"

OK, Joe, here is your story.


Bob Duncan lived what most Americans would call a hard life. He lived in an old, drafty farm house that he had inherited from his mother and father, along with the farm that went with it, a whole 160 acres they had homesteaded in Texas. And he farmed that land too, in a day and age when most small farmers were going out of business or being bought out by big corporations. But he made a quite decent living growing a variety of things, including, but not limited to tomatoes, lettuce, melons, beets, broccoli, celery, radishes, onions, cabbage, and strawberries. He had the kind of customers who were very particular about their produce, among them fifteen of the top chefs in America. He grew everything organically, which was one reason his products were so much in demand. Business was so good he had ten men on the payroll. Most of them didn't speak English, but they knew what to do and he paid them well, compared to what they'd have made somewhere else. One of them had even asked if he could bring his wife and two children up from Mexico to live with him. Bob had just nodded. He couldn't find anyone white at any wage who was willing to spend ten hours a day in the fields. His men lived in trailers he'd brought in, most of which were in better condition than the old house, but Bob didn't much care about appearances. He was tall and lanky, on the thin side from hours of hard work every day, with an unruly mop of brown hair and a beard he hacked at every once in a while with a pair of scissors.

What Bob took pride in was his produce ... and maybe the almost religious endorsements he got from his customers.

And then there were his pumpkins. Bob reserved five acres for pumpkins, to supply various markets in the fall, but mostly for fun. He loved growing them big, and had, over the years, grown some a child of nine or ten could crawl into.

Normally, other than at the County Fair, Bob sold the best of his pumpkins in a stand out by the road, and he trucked the rest to local grocery stores, mostly in and around the Ozarks, starting around the first of October.

So, in mid September, right after an unseasonable frost swept through Florida, and most of Georgia and Alabama as well, Bob heaved a sigh of relief that it had stayed east of his operation. The cold front had moved in and sat on the land like a cat, sitting on the mouse it just caught, waiting for it to die.

As he looked at his pumpkins, thanking his lucky stars the cold hadn't hit him here and rotted the whole crop, he wondered how his sister was doing. She was technically his half sister, having been fathered by the same man who was his father. But they had grown up together and, as far as they were concerned, he was her brother, and she was his sister. She lived in the middle part of Florida, and he knew they had gotten hammered. That night he took a few minutes to call her.

"Hey, sweetness!" he said as the phone was answered by a sultry feminine voice. "It's been a long time since I've seen those tight little buns you carry around behind you."

Bob had long had the kind of relationship with his sister that raised eyebrows whenever they were together in public. She invariably talked about how ugly, misshapen and stupid he was, in loud complaints, while he responded by pointing out each and every part of what he called, "your luscious self". Both of them were kidding, and anyone who heard them could tell they were kidding, but the vituperative nature of her attacks on him, and the salacious nature of his comments to her often left people with slack jaws.

"Uncle Bob!" came the scandalized cry from the phone. Then, off mike, Bob heard who was obviously one of his two teenaged nieces yell, "Mom! It's Uncle Bob and he thought I was you!"

She came back to the phone. "Uncle Bob you're not supposed to talk about my butt. That makes you a dirty old man."

Bob now had enough information to know he was talking to his sixteen-year-old niece, Alice. "Well sweetheart, I can't help it if you sound like a grown woman. I been calling your mamma for years now and whenever a grown woman answered it was always her. How was I supposed to know you had grown up so much?" He got an urge. "Besides, isn't your secret nickname 'Apple Ass'?" This was a reference to the name she'd gotten because of her job. She worked in an apple orchard and her tight little butt was the shape of a couple of nice big apples packed into her jeans. Bob went on teasing. "Besides, the last time I saw you, your own butt was pretty fine looking. So in one way you'd have to admit that not only do you sound like your mamma, you look like her too!"

"You're incorrigible," giggled the girl. "I learned that word just because of you, you know."

"And all this time I thought I was just inebriated," he joked.

"Here's mamma," she said and he heard her blow him a kiss. He had a sudden mental vision of those soft, pursed lips on that lovely teen face and wished he was there to press his own against them. Alice was a looker and had been for several years now. She made Bob's dick move around in his pants quite often. They all did in that family, he had to admit. He teased them a lot when he was there, and they teased right back.

Alice's older sister Mary had long, dark hair, and was tall and thin like he was. She looked like some kind of model, with a slinky build. Her breasts weren’t overly large but, in the last few times he'd seen her she almost never wore a bra and she had prominent nipples that got him going every time.

Alice looked completely different. She was a carbon copy of her mother, younger of course, and every time he saw her he remembered the good times when he and Betty were growing up.

As he heard Alice hand over the phone he thought about the woman he was about to talk to. Betty had always reminded him of the cartoon character who bore her name in the Archie comic books of his youth. She was blond and built like the cartoon character, with bulging breasts and hips that begged to have a man's hands grip them while he pounded her pussy from behind. She too had very prominent nipples, which were the only thing that "marred" an otherwise pure and wholesome girl-next-door appearance. When Betty was around men, they paid attention to her in that brotherly way of men who lust after their sister.

Bob was no exception and, even though he hadn't seen her naked since they were kids, his prick had spurted uncounted times with her image in his head as he jerked himself off.

Bob masturbated a lot, mostly to ease stress and because it just felt good. Actual relationships were time-consuming and he didn't have the social skills necessary to play the dating game, with all it's unwritten rules and invisible pitfalls. Women were attracted to him, but it was just too much trouble to woo them and jump through the hoops women seemed to love so much since women's liberation came along.

His reverie was broken by a sweet sounding voice in his ear. "What the hell do you want now, you ass ugly moron?"

"Hi there, gorgeous. How are those fabulous titties I never get to taste?" he responded.

"They're right here on my chest, where they're going to stay, and where you won't get to within a hundred miles of them!" she laughed. She tried to sound mad at him as she delivered her barbs, but rarely succeeded because she was actually pleased with his "compliments."

"Ah, well, life goes on," he sighed. "But you might be wrong about me not getting within a hundred miles of them. I thought I'd better check on you and see how you weathered the storm. You need any help?" In Florida everybody had air conditioning, but some folks didn't own a furnace.

"Ohh, Bobby, you can be so sweet sometimes," she said. Then in a deeper voice. "We got our asses kicked. That's how we're doing. People's pipes froze up and broke and there was ice and that broke trees."

"Is the house OK? Are you guys OK?" he asked worriedly.

"We let the water run and bundled up together in bed through most of it. They cancelled school, so the girls got to stay home. If you put on lots of clothes and didn't stop moving it wasn't too bad. It sure hurt the farmers though. And poor Alice lost her part time job. You know how she was working for that fruit outfit, in their apple orchard? No more apples. They all froze. Mary and her little 4H friends did OK, but that's because all the animals have fur. Mary's little lamb was frisking around in that cold like a kid in a swimming pool. And the rest of us were turning blue! Are you sure I can't come live with you?"

Her question was a joke. Bob had been trying to get his sister to move to the farm for years. Ever since her husband, Harry, had died, he'd made it a standing offer. He even offered to build her a custom-built house. But she always said, "No." She'd turned him down then, and two times since then, when hurricanes swept through her town. Bob knew it had been hard. She'd never have even joked about moving in with him if she wasn't.

"You have the sorriest luck of any woman I ever knew," he said. "You know I looked it up on the internet. Harry is among only three known people to have been struck and killed by a meteorite in recorded history. You've been through three hurricanes and two tornadoes that were spawned by hurricanes, and now an ice storm. Your car is brand new and it still breaks down more often than my '68 Chevy pickup. And, you've got two daughters who are almost as luscious as your own luscious self."

"What do my daughters have to do with sorry luck. They're great!" she complained.

"Yes, they are. And that's the problem. Every man who sees any one of you three is off to the races in his pants and planning on how he can crawl between ya'll's legs. No woman should be cursed like that. Hell, woman, you can't trust anything a man says, cause he's always got ulterior motives!"

"Well, you ugly stump, what else hasn't changed? How 'bout you Bob, do you have ulterior motives? Are you trying to crawl between my legs like the snake in the grass you are?" She thought that might shut him up.

"Well of course I've been trying to slip into your bed. It's been that way for years, woman. Why do you think I don't come visit very often? It takes me six months to make my dick limp after every time I see you and those women you still insist on calling girls."

He sounded exasperated, but he really wasn't. And Betty knew that. She also knew, on some unconscious level that he meant a lot of what he said about her beauty ... and maybe even what he kept saying he wanted to do to her ... with her.

"Well, I tell you what, you worthless lump of camel shit, why don't you just come on over here and help me replant my bushes and flowers that froze and died. That might make up for your thoroughly useless presence here. But I'm only doing this to get a good meal into that skinny, bony body of yours cause you don't even have enough common sense to know how to take care of yourself! You understand that? And if you try to touch me I'll cut off the first thing I lay eyes on."

Anyone hearing that kind of invitation would be well within their rights to assume that it was no invitation at all, indeed that she hated her brother.

But Bob knew different. He knew she wanted to see him and that he needed to get over there to Florida. "Tell you what sweet cheeks," he said smoothly into the phone. "You put some lipstick on those cute nipples of yours and get ready, cause when I get there I'm going to make up for the last five years of you getting nothing but hot looks. And I'll bring a shovel." he finished. "I might just do some work while I'm there."

They hung up and the first thing Bob did was hit the internet to see what produce availability and prices were like in Florida. If he was going over there he might as well take a truckload of something or other to pay for the trip. It was pretty late in the year for most things, and he naturally searched for information on pumpkins. He whistled when he found out there wasn't a pumpkin to be had in the three-state area. Betty hadn't been kidding when she said agriculture took a massive hit from the storm.

Two days later Bob was steering his Peterbilt 387 down the road, pulling a fifty-three foot reefer loaded with pumpkins. He had already sold them over the phone and was going to make a killing on this one load. His sleeper was also being used for pumpkin storage, but those were for his sister and nieces.

Two days after that Bob dropped hook, leaving the trailer with the produce company that had bought his pumpkins and which now owned the only pumpkins within four hundred miles. Bob left with a check that was the equivalent of two months profits, and his farm was still producing normally back home. He headed for Betty's place, but stopped at a truck stop to take a shower. He was exiting through the gift shop when a display of manikins caught his eye. It was called "sleepwear", though he doubted anyone would actually sleep while wearing it. They were also being marketed as Halloween costumes, and he surely wanted to be at the party where a woman wore any of these costumes.

One was supposed to be a witch's nightgown. It was all black gauzy material, a jacket that covered a bra and panty set, all of which were see-through. It came with a fake nose, and some warts that could be stuck to the face, along with a witch's pointed hat.

Then there was Vampirella's nightgown. It was a bustier with a quarter cup bra that supported the breasts, but did not cover them. It, too, was black, made of satin, with what looked like strips of torn cloth hanging down from various places. It came with fake vampire teeth, and theatrical blood and high heels.

And finally there was an outfit called "The Zombie's rags". It was a one piece bodysuit that had been ripped and torn so badly that everything a woman had would be visible. It was made of strips of variously colored cloth that gave the impression of a dirty torn outfit of some kind. It came with fake broken and dirty stick-on fingernails and a body paint that would make your skin look sickly greenish.

The outfits were hilarious and all three came with a skin tight body suit that had pictures of breasts and pubic hair printed on them. So a woman could wear the body suit under one of these outfits and look naked, even though she was most thoroughly covered. They were the most unique costumes he'd ever seen.

Bob always got his nieces a present of some kind when he came to visit. He had the pumpkins in the truck, but this would be even better. He couldn't resist and bought one of each, to give them to his sister and nieces. He knew he'd get yelled at, but who knew, maybe some day one of these costumes might do one of them some good. He put them in the sleeper and drove on over to Betty's.

Arriving at his sister's house was one of Bob's favorite things to do. This was primarily because he got three hot female bodies pressed against his during the hello hugs. Today it was Alice who noticed him drive up in the tractor and who ran outside squealing, "Uncle Bob's here!"

She slammed into him, crushing her big teen breasts into his chest as she reached her face up for a kiss. Her arms went around him in an attempted bear hug, but he grabbed her first, lifting her off the ground and swinging her in a circle as she squealed some more.

Then he kissed her.

Bob had decided, when the girls were fourteen and fifteen, that pecks on the cheek were no longer appropriate. Instead, he kissed the girls. The first couple of times had been hilarious. The first time he kissed them like they were women, they both went limp in his arms. Their eyes had been wide and alarmed when he pulled back from those passion filled kisses, but he defused the situation by saying "Now that's a real kiss for a real woman!"

Now, several years later, they were not only used to it, they relished the arrival of their Uncle Bob so they could kiss a man the way their hormones told them to ... and get away with it.

Right now, for instance, when Alice got her kiss, she was more than ready to give it back. As their lips came together, hers were open, inviting, and she darted her tongue into his mouth before he could do it to her. And that caused her hormone filled body to automatically grind against him. His bone sprouted immediately as the front of her jeans rubbed his cock. Part of him wanted to withdraw. He knew she'd feel the lump hardening against her. Part of him wanted to push back. It would feel so good.

He settled for swirling his tongue into her mouth and giving her one little bump and grind, before pushing her back and raking his eyes up and down her svelte body.

"MMMm, MMMmm, you're a sight for sore eyes," he said.

Her impish face peered up, smiling. "Didja bring me anything?" she asked, excited.

"Am I your Uncle Bob?" he grinned. "But it's a surprise. You have to wait until I give presents to everybody."

"Awwwww," she moaned. "No fair!" Then she brightened, her mood back to perky teen and grabbed his hand. "Come inside! It's almost supper time!"

He let himself be led into the house where, in the hallway, he was ambushed by Mary. Her tall body wrapped itself around him and she too gave him an open mouthed kiss. She was so light he picked her up as she kissed him, though there wasn't room in the hallway to swing her around. His hands ended up cupping her butt, holding her up off the ground, and her legs went automatically around his, locking behind him.

"Mmmmmm," she said into his mouth as they exchanged tongues. Her legs dropped and he let her down, leaving his hands on her tight ass.

"I love kissing you," she said into his throat. "But your hands are in 'no man's land'. I learned in school not to let the bad men touch me there."

She wiggled her butt a little and pulled her head back to let her green eyes stare into his.

"Oh!" he said in mock sadness. "So I'm the bad man now?"

"No," she giggled. "But Alice said you were a dirty old man, and now I know she was telling the truth!" She kissed him a quick peck on the lips and stood back as his hands fell away from her butt. "What did you bring me?" she asked.

"Is that all the women in this house think about?" he grumbled, like a bear. "I drive for hours and hours and all I get is ..." he changed his voice to a falsetto. "What did you bring me Uncle Bob?"

Alice gave him a push from the back, shoving him into her sister. "Mom! Uncle Bob's here!" she yelled, pushing him toward the kitchen.

As they all trooped into the kitchen Betty turned from the stove and put one hand on her hip. "And why would I care about that old fart showing up? I don't suppose he got a face job or something so I could stand to look at him."

"Hark!" said Bob, assuming a theatrical pose. "Are those dulcet tones I hear the voice of the most beautiful woman east of the Mississippi?"

"Nice try you horrible old fraud!" said Betty, coming over to hug him. "I can't believe I'm going to actually touch this repugnant missing link of a man."

Her actions, though, belied her words. Her hug was warm and her kiss loose lipped, though she kept her tongue in her mouth, as did he. It was a long kiss, though, and when his erect bone pressed into her mons he just let it. It was Betty who did the little bump and grind this time.

She was a little breathless when the kiss broke. "I guess Alice was telling the truth," she said, stepping back. Her eyes dropped to the front of his jeans and she shook her head. "I've just got to find me a man," she said under her breath.

Bob grinned. "I'm a man."

Betty gave him an arch look. "Don't tempt me you old pile of dinosaur poop." She dropped her eyes to his crotch again, making it obvious. "That thing in there is probably broken anyway." Then, as if all she had said was, "Hi, glad you got here," she said, "You hungry? Supper's almost ready."

Bob laughed. "I'm starved. And, by the way, the last time I checked it, my plumbing was working just fine, thank you very much."

"Yeah, yeah, that's what they all say." muttered Betty as she turned back to the stove.

Bob admired the swell of her hips under the apron tied around her slim waist. She was wearing slacks, and they clung to her butt like cellophane clings to sliced cheese.

Alice came back into the kitchen from having gone somewhere. "Uncle Bob brought us presents!" she piped. "But he's being mean and won't give them to us until later." She tried to sound tragic, but her mischievous grin spoiled it for her.

"I even brought something for your beautiful mother too, this time," said Bob, sitting down at the table.

Betty turned around, a tender look on her face. "If you think you're going to just sit down with filthy hands you mangy old dog, you've got another think coming! Get to the bathroom and get those paws clean or you'll get nothing on your plate except your fork."

"I'm going, I'm going" Bob held up his hands, which were still clean from the shower at the truck stop. "Don't get your panties wadded up between those delightful thighs of yours."

He turned to go and barely heard Betty mutter, "And just who says I'm even wearing panties you old fart."

He laughed as he went to the bathroom.

Again Alice's hands were in his back, pushing him. "Me too! Me too!" she called. "I have to wash my hands too!"

She pushed him into the small bathroom and crowded past him to the sink, turning on the water. "Me first!" she giggled.

Bob simply slipped his hands between her arms and her sides and then stuck his hands under the running water, pushing hers aside. A mock battle ensued, splashing water everywhere, including all over Alice's shirt. She squealed and backed into Bob, pushing her butt into his still hard cock.

"Uncle Bob! You got me all wet!" she giggled.

Bob couldn't resist. His hands came to her braless titties and covered them, squeezing.

"Wet? You don't feel wet to me," he said, giving them another squeeze. They felt positively delightful.

"Uncle Bob!" she squealed again, her wet hands hanging in the air. "You dirty old man!" She turned in his arms, her wet hands coming to his back and getting the back of his shirt wet. "You shouldn't touch me there," she said more softly. "It makes me want to kiss you again."

So Bob kissed her again, another long, hot tongue swapping kiss. She was breathless when he finished.

"You let the boys kiss you like that sweetness?" he asked.

"Uh uh," she sighed, firmly. "I don't kiss any boys at all. But I might start if it's anything like that."

"You just come to your old Uncle Bob if you want kisses." he kissed her again, not quite as passionately. "Boys will want to do other things if you kiss them like that."

"Like what you just did?" she asked.

"That and lots more." He smiled.

"Hey, you two ... get a room or something!" came Mary's raucous bray from the bathroom door. "And save some for me," she added hastily as uncle and sister looked at her.

"Have Uncle Bob wash your hands for you," said Alice, unwinding herself from her uncle. "It's fun when he washes your hands."

"What?" asked Mary, trying to figure out what in the world her sister could be talking about.

"Come here," said Bob, and he pulled the thinner sister between him and the sink. Then he put his arms around her, got his hands wet, and cupped her flatter, firmer titties, just like he had Alice's.

Mary didn't squeal quite as loudly, but she backed into his boner just like Alice had, and got her tender mams squeezed several times. She leaned her head back on her uncle's shoulder and turned her lips to his ear. "I'll scream if you don't stop." she whispered.

"Go ahead," he said.

"Help, help," she whispered. He rubbed her hard mounds, letting his fingers play with her erect nipples.

"I'll ask you the same thing I asked Alice," he said. "You let the boys do this to you?"

"Once," she said, thrusting her chest out into his hands.

"And?" he prodded, giving her a little bump with his hard cock.

"I certainly didn't let them do that!!" she said in his ear. "You'd better stop now Uncle Bob. I'm getting horny."

Bob gave her thrusting nipples another tweak and said, "Well, we wouldn't want that, now would we?" He let his hands start sliding down, over her stomach, toward her ultimate prize.

Mary backed against him hard and grabbed his hand with both of hers. "Now, now," she chided. "You're heading for no man's land again." She turned around, like Alice had. "You gave my sister another kiss. It's not fair unless you kiss me again too."

Bob didn't have to lean down much to kiss this girl. She melted against him as his hands found her butt and rubbed in circles, pushing her groin into his lumpy basket. This time she didn't rebuke him or make him stop. She just kissed him deep and long. "Man! I love kissing you," she panted, when they broke apart.

"Come on," said Bob, "Before we do something your mother would shoot me for."

"I know where the gun is," said Mary, taking his hand. "I'll hide it if you want me to."

"Girl you sure know how to make a man want to be a man ... I'll give you that," said Bob. He knew he was going to have to beat off tonight.

Supper was filled with laughter and happiness. It was still unseasonably cool outside, but Betty had bought a couple of space heaters and in the house it was warm and friendly. Bob shook his head several times, wondering why some man hadn't snapped up his sister. Eventually he broached the subject, like he did every time they got together.

"So, how's your sex life?" he asked Betty.

"You horny old goat. That's all you ever want to know about you perverted slime ball." She put a forkful of salad in her mouth and chewed it for a while. "It's exactly the same as it was the last time you intruded into my private business."

"Betty," he said, going into big brother mode. "You're a beautiful, intelligent, delightful woman, and sexy as all get out. There are a thousand men out there who would salivate at the very thought of being your special guy. Don't tell me you like living like this." He meant every word.

"Why wouldn't I, you useless bag of manure?" she shot back. "I get to sleep in as much of the bed as I want to. I don't have to put up with a man farting on my furniture. My daughters are still virgins. I don't have to watch football unless I want to. I get by just fine!" She put another forkful of salad in her mouth and chewed.

Bob knew how she "got by". He had bought her a nine inch latex dildo and mailed it to her from "an anonymous admirer". Of course the post mark was the town near his farm, so she knew where it came from. The next time he visited she had yelled at him for ten minutes and then kissed him and whispered "Thank you ... I'm so much calmer now," in his ear.

"Don't give me that," he growled. "You're still young enough to have two or three more babies, and you should, if they'll be anything like these two lovely ladies right here." Both girls preened at his praise.

Betty coughed, and lettuce spewed out onto her plate. "Babies?!" she said forcefully. "Why in the world would I want to waddle around for months and months, looking like the Goodyear blimp, just so some man can have an excuse to buy cheap cigars and rub my belly?" She cleaned up her mess. "My two daughters are all the children I need!" She sat back in her chair and looked fondly at her daughters. "Some grandchildren might be nice though," she said innocently.

Mary was the first to react. "Mother! Please! I'm not even out of High School yet!"

"Yes, but you will be in May. Why don't you meet some nice boy and go on some dates?"

"I've tried that Mom" said Mary, looking severely at her mother. "You know I have, and every boy I went out with was a waste of time. All they want to do is get their hands in my pants. I want a man who will talk to me, and read poetry to me, and take me places and love me for who I am. Him I'd give you a grandchild with."

Bob cleared his throat. "Mary dear, I'll take you to the Mall after supper, and we can talk on the way. But first I have this poem I think about every time I see you. It goes like this. There once was a lass from Nantucket, who..."

"That's quite enough out of you!" shouted Betty, drowning out the rest of the limerick. "As if I'd ever consider letting a bag of outhouse offal like you touch my beautiful daughter."

"Daughters," corrected Alice. "I'm perfectly capable of having grandchildren too, and what Mary was talking about sounds pretty cool to me too. Except you won't let me date until I'm seventeen."

"You're a bit young dear," said Betty.

"Awwww Mary gets to have all the fun," said Alice, pretending to sulk.

"Just for the record," said Bob around a mouthful of corn, "I love you both for who you are. You too," he finished by facing his sister.

"Horny old satyr," muttered Betty.

After supper they formed a sort of assembly line operation to get the dishes from the table to the sink, and then washed, and rinsed and dried and put away. There was mundane chatter while this went on, and Bob caught up on what the girls were interested in, and the classes and teachers they liked, or didn't like. He found out Betty had been promoted to area manager, with a substantial raise, and that she loved her new job.

As they finished up Betty picked up the last pot and said, "Ugh. This one's going to have to soak for a while. It's all greasy. Alice, would you get me the hand soap honey, I need to wash my hands."

"Ooooo, let Uncle Bob wash your hands for you." Alice grinned at her uncle. "He does a really good job. He helped me wash my hands before supper."

"Mine too," chimed in Mary. "You really should Mom, he's the best." She giggled.

"What are you magpies chattering about?" asked Betty as she reached for the dispenser Alice was handing her.

Bob walked up behind her and slid his arms past her sides, like he had with the girls. He turned on the water and took the dispenser from her hand, pushing the plunger and getting soap onto his other hand. Then he set the dispenser down and reached for his sister's hands, rubbing them between his own. Betty had stiffened at first, expecting some prank, but as he massaged her hands she relaxed.

"That's not how you did it with us," said Alice.

"I got them a little wet," Bob confessed in his sister's ear. His hot breath in her ear made her shiver.

"You did?" she asked, relaxed now.

"Yeah, like this," Said Bob. He brought his wet hands to her breasts and cupped them gently, lifting them and then sliding his hands up over them. He gripped them and then rolled her whole breasts in opposite circles. "Hmmmm no bra either!" he commented in her ear.

Betty's hands came up and covered his, gripping them. "You bastard," she said softly. "You rat bastard ... you conniving ... despicable ... rat ... bastard." All the while her hands gripped his as he massaged her wobbling titties.

Bob suddenly felt something wet drop on his right hand. He stopped and looked around the side of her face to see tears running down Betty's cheeks. He stopped pawing her breasts and turned her around.

"Hey, don't cry," he said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry. Come on Betty, I was just fooling around. Don't cry honey, please."

He turned his head to the two open mouthed and astonished girls and said gently, "Your mother and I need a minute alone, OK?" They turned and left immediately.

He turned back to her. She was looking at him with puppy dog eyes. And she was still crying. "Come on baby, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I love you Betts, and I don't want to hurt you. I know I'm an asshole sometimes, but please ...?"

Betty flung her arms around his neck. "Oh, I love you so much," she sobbed into his neck. "And you're so ... so ... And I'm so horny ... and all the guys I meet are jerks ... and then you come here, all handsome and flirty and my girls just love you and you kiss me and I want to do things with you ... and you're my brother!" She looked up at him, wiping her eyes. "You really are a rat bastard. You've stolen my heart and made my nipples get all hard and pushed that damn baseball bat I just know you have hidden in there against me and now I'm so horny I'm thinking of letting my own brother fuck my brains out!" She sniffled again. She leaned against him, putting her face in his shirt. "Rat bastard" came her muffled addendum.

Bob was stunned. He loved to flirt with Betty and the girls. And there was no doubt that, in his fantasies, each of them had welcomed him in the most intimate ways possible ... many times ... as he had pounded his meat and relieved his lust in a Kleenex. But to hear that Betty felt the same way! She could have pushed him over with one finger.

"I'm really sorry," he said softly into her hair. "I didn't mean to tease you too much."

She lifted her fact to his again. "You're a horrible liar Bob Duncan. I know good and well what an erection means in a man, and you get one every time I let you kiss me. You tease me because you love to tease me. Well, payback is a motherfucker Bob, so you'd better be ready!"

With that she pushed him away and walked out of the kitchen and into the living room.

Next Chapter >>