Ann LeBere - Stepmother's bed

"Frederick," Denny purred softly. "You're a nice bow-bow, boy. Nice boy. Relax, Frederick. Lie down, boy."

At the mention of his name, Frederick grew suddenly affectionate. It was almost as if the animal understood that anybody knowing his name could not possibly be an enemy. Still drooling, he sat back on his haunches, tilting his shaggy head to one side. Then he approached apologetically and began licking Denny's outstretched hand.

"That's a nice Frederick," Denny sing-songed.

His sister had fled to the porch of the house. She stood there, crouched and cowering.

"You may return now," Denny said, his voice arrogant and superior sounding.

"Daniel in the lion's den," she said, complimenting him. "How did you do it?"

"I simply stared him down," Denny said. "You know, I bet he'd make a terrific pussy licker with that long tongue of his. If you're good, sis, I may command him to lick your snatch some day. How'd you like that, huh? Hmm, sis, huh? Huh?"

"Shut up, pervert!" Joyce replied. "Why do you have to turn everything into-into something to do with fucking and sucking?"

" 'Cause it's fun," he said, kneeling now. "Good boy, Frederick." He patted the cringing head without any unfavorable reaction from the now docile beast. "Look at his prick, sis," Denny said. "He's got a big one, eh?"

Joyce slapped her brother's shoulder, and then they entered the back porch. "Even when it-it's just an animal, Denny, all you ever think about is sex, sex, sex. You're crazy, Denny. You're gonna grow up to be a sex fiend!"

Suddenly Norma Reardon appeared. "Did Frederick scare you kids?" she asked as they entered the kitchen. She had been reading a sexy paperback at the kitchen table. She stood up and kissed them both on the cheek. Then they all went into the living room.

"Nah," Denny assured his step-mother, "Animals don't scare me. He sure scared Joyce, though. He senses she's afraid. Yeah, Frederick sensed Joyce was scared so he attacked the panty-waist scaredie-cat."

Joyce shook her head in subdued rage. "Phooey, that's a lie," she said. "I–I'm really quite fond of-of the thing."

Norma came over then and ran her fingers through Joyce's disheveled hair. "You're hair is all snarled, dear," she said. "I didn't see you take your bathing suits. Did you go swimming?" She shook her head, grinning. "I mean, I trust you didn't swim in the nude."

"No," Joyce lied. "We just fooled around at the pond with Sue and Rex and Ray." She did not want to admit they'd been skinny-dipping and Denny enjoyed watching her squirm now. That's why my hair got a little wet." Quickly, she changed the subject. "Uh-what are you reading, Norma?"

Denny had already seen the book's title-Bigger and Better Orgasms for the American Female. It was written by a doctor with a long, foreign-sounding name.

"Just a book," Norma said, placing it beneath some papers in the magazine basket on the floor. She changed the subject then, too, and asked them about their day. Denny innocently told her about the pond and talking to Mrs. Sherman at the drug store. Yes, it had been a very interesting and innocent and delightful day.

"Well, I'm happy you had such a pleasant time your first day in Walden Flats, Joyce," Norma said. "It always thrills me to hear that anybody has had a nice day in this town."

Realizing that she was complaining, indulging in sarcasm, she forced a smile and glanced at the big grandfather clock against the wall. "Guess I'd best start fixing dinner," she said. "You're father will be home soon. Go ahead and turn on the TV," she said, leaving for the kitchen.

After twenty minutes of television, their father came in. To Denny's disappointment, their father's face was crimson, as if he'd been drinking again. He weaved slightly, too. God, he can't be drunk this early, Denny thought. But as he hugged and kissed his son and daughter there was the overpowering smell of alcohol on his breath.

"You kids had a busy day, right?" he said, patting Joyce's ass lingeringly until Denny thought he would vomit. "Betcha don't know how I know you've been so busy, eh?"

"All right, dad," Denny said, disgusted. "Tell us how you know." He spoke indulgently, as if speaking to a naughty child-because when Martin Reardon drank he acted like a child. Or an idiot!

Joyce exchanged impatient glances with her brother. "Yes, daddy dear," she said. "Do tell us."

Martin Reardon raised his index finger pontifically. "Because Mrs. Sherman said you stopped by her store on your way to the pond. Also, later on, I saw you kids with Rex, Ray and Sue-riding your bikes through town." He winked at Denny. "That Sue's got a nice li'l ass on her, huh son?" He clutched his balls, weaving so that he almost fell. "Hey, wouldn't you like to stick your meat in that, son?"

Joyce and Denny looked at each other in horror. Their father became a gross lecher when he drank. No wonder Norma is bored with living here, he thought. Who wouldn't be-living with such a creepy and changeable man?

"So you see," he went, on his speech slurred, "very very little escapes the sharp eye of your old man." Giggling, he then staggered his way to the kitchen.

Denny and Joyce heard a sharp exchange of words, and then their drunken father returned, his ice cubes tinkling in his cocktail glass. He fell into his overstuffed chair and threw his feet up on the ottoman. He poked his little finger in his ears, then examined his finger.

"Where did you see us from?" Denny asked. He wanted to say, from the bar? but he restrained himself. "We thought of stopping at your office, but we guessed you'd be busy," he said instead.

Blinking, Martin Reardon said, "No, unfortunately, I was not very busy-at all." He frowned, staring depressed into his glass. "You see, Walden Flats is a very small town. And when there aren't many people in a town you don't get too many dislocations and pulled muscles and back trouble." He waved his hand in the air, like a degenerate king in the movies. "Nope, I'm afraid Walden Flats isn't the perfect place for a chiropractor in semi-retirement." He took a huge gulp of his drink. "Truth is, I was sitting in Wally Rakin's Bar. There were a few cancelled appointments, see, and that bar has a sensational view of the street. That's where I saw my two li'l dumplings from-'ol Wally's Bar.

"The bar faces the street, see, and a man can sit there for hours trying to figure out where he went wrong, staring at this hick metropolis. It was a big day in Walden Flats all right. I think I saw five other people besides you kids all day!" He chuckled strangely to himself. "Yep, five whole people without a damn thing wrong with their necks or backs or anything. Yeah, they probably go into Portland for their adjustments."

Dabbing at the tears in his eyes, Dr. Martin Reardon, Chiropractor, sniffed and shook his head, pitying himself.

Abruptly angry, Denny strode across the room and changed the TV channel to the news. His sister came to him and he whispered, "Jesus, he's a bigger lush than he was last summer. What a drag! Sorry, sis."

"Be nice to daddy," Joyce said. "He just doesn't have enough patients at the office, that's all. Go easy on him. He just had a few drinks."

"A few?" Denny snapped. "Why did he bother to come home? Well, I know why! He's probably breathed so much booze in patients' faces they just stopped coming to him. Just the way mom said it was in San Francisco when he had his practice there! I bet he didn't retire because he wanted to. I bet they ran him out of town. Do you see Norma? See how disgusted she is with him?"

Joyce kept her back to her father now and wiped tears from her eyes. "Give him a chance, Denny?" she pleaded. "Don't talk that way about him now. W-We love Walden Flats, and maybe he does, too. Maybe he had a dream of starting all over again here in this quiet little town, and his dream isn't coming true, and he doesn't know which way to turn, and-"