Anonymous: Caroline

As to myself, I had meanwhile a different part to play and had delivered stealthily a missive through the letterbox of Esmeralda's house. Penned by Jane in a concealed hand, it read: “Your secret has been uncovered, Mrs. Tompkins-Smith. The enclosed likeness of yourself and your quite virile son is one that you would not want the world to see. If you are not gone before the close of day, and if your house is not put up for sale, similar likenesses will be distributed to your closest friends and dear acquaintances. Beware!”

I rather like that last word-though a touch theatrical.

By evening, Esmeralda and her two offspring were flown. The house stood empty and the shutters closed.

“Cruel but necessary, “Caroline observed. She added thoughtfully, “I have arranged to visit Jane and Ethel, dear, on Friday. Shall you come?”

I answered briskly, of course, that I would. I wished in any event to see how Thomas had taken it. For though we had no word to him, the sudden departure of Esmeralda had been spread about as always in the countryside, and hence we found him in a pensive mood while Jane and Ethel, too, were quiet. The former I managed to draw aside and asked her how things were.

“Oh, he is broody,” she replied, and put on quite a sulky look. I kissed her-felt her bottom and her tits. She squirmed a little but did not resist.

“It is up to you to buck him up,” said I.

“Yes, I suppose. Dear Caroline says that as well. It is not so easy as you think. And Ethel is so backward, too.”

“I have a cure for that, my pet. We only came to pay respects, y'know, and so will not stop long.”

“Oh! I hoped that Caroline might stay and…”

“You must manage things yourself now, Jane. Wait. I will fetch the cure. There is no other that I know of now.”

“But, wait! You do not understand!”

I had not time for arguments, nor had an inclination for. hem then. In the hall I opened a carpetbag that I had brought and produced a bottle from it that I took to her, evading with stealth the drawing room wherein the others quietly talked.

Jane stared at it and ran her tongue along her lips. Her tongue would soon be in another's mouth, I thought.

“It is the same wine that we gave to Esmeralda,” she said thickly, blushed and turned away. I pressed it to her hand. She held the neck of it and stood forlorn, or made that she seemed to do. With woman one can never tell. “We shall all fall asleep,” she said.

“By no means. You will each drink half a glass-no more. Be sure you pour it carefully. Your loins will tingle and your breasts will swell, as then will Ethel's too. You will feel lightness, heat, all three of you. Feeling thus- not caring what you do-you slowly will unclothe, and then…”

“Ah, Jane-I see that you have found the wine!”

I scarcely need say the interjection came from Caroline who entered then. Her voice was raised deliberately and heard by Thomas to the uttermost dismay of Jane who shook her head and motioned Caroline to be quiet. That was not how we had planned it, though. Bottle in hand, the girl was led into the drawing room while Caroline chatted brightly as to her “discovery.” Thomas looked up bemused. Ethel sank down and quickly crossed her legs.

“The dear girl-a very special wine she bought for you, and then mislaid it,” Caroline said to Thomas. “Is it not so, Jane?'

“I… yes… I mean-well,” uttered Jane who in the light of her great debt to us could scarcely say us nay.

“Charming, my dear,” said Thomas, “Shall our guest enjoy it, too?”

“Oh no, no, no-no, we must go. Forgive us, will you not? 'Twas but a passing visit and to see that all was well. All will be now; I am quite sure of that. Why, Jane, what was it that you said? A half glass is enough, you said?” asked Caroline with artfulness.

“I th… th… think so-yes,” Jane murmured, swallowed and studied the carpet with great earnestness.

“Well, fetch a corkscrew, Thomas. You must celebrate her little gift. An act of love; I know it to be that. The dear girl has you in her heart, as Ethel does,” said Caroline.

“Ah, yes-of course. They both are angels-that they are. A half glass only, eh? It must be a most unusual brew-an ancient vintage,” came from Thomas who appeared to liven up, procuring corkscrew, glasses, and the bottle taken then from Jane's uncertain hand.

“A special vintage, yes indeed,” said I, “Procures a wondrous afterglow, Jane said. Did you not tell us so, my dear?”

“Eh? Did I? Yes, I must have done,” she flustered.

The cork popped. Ethel sat as if encased in ice. She had the slightly haunted look her sister had. I knew that they would sip as slowly as they could, feeling the inexorable fire of it and then with helpless wondering drink on.

“You will not stay for half a glass?” asked Thomas of us with a certain merriment, though innocent enough.

“Oh no! No-no-they must be gone, Papa. Jane's eyes alone urged us away.

“Regretfully we must,” I said. Our farewells made and we were gone.

“The last act, alas. We shall not see it played,” said Caroline as we took to our carriage, entered it, and looked towards the house where the lights glowed and the wine was being poured with grave exactitude.

“A pleasant taste,” Thomas would say while his two angels nodded timidly.

At the last gulp, fire seeping through their veins, their eyes would glaze a little, and all would relax. Ethel and Jane would feel the swelling of their breasts, their nipples stiff. Their loins, grown warm, would pulse impatiently. Their lips would part, and all would softly breathe. Thomas would cross his legs uncomfortably to hide the glowing stalk of his erection which would tentpole his trousers quite remarkably. Then, growing careless in the deeper flush of it, he would let his legs fall lax, apart, and feel a boldness on him he had never known before, the bulge displayed unhindered to their sight.

“It is quiet tonight,” I imagined him to say.

“It is indeed, Papa.”

Jane would speak first. Their voice would sound hollow in their heads. Cunnies would tingle, wanting to be touched. Their knees would fall apart in turn, and they would sigh.

“Will you not sit with me? Jane-Ethel? Come…”

Unsteady would their rising be, and yet not timorous. The floor would seem to bend beneath their feet-their hips would sway. The sofa would squeak a welcome to their bottoms, and their heads would fall upon his shoulders, one on each side, lips apart.

His head would turn. His lips would fall first upon Jane's, her mouth kept open to his seeking tongue. Ethel, in turn, would lose timidity. His arms around their waists, beneath their armpits, he would boldly palm their titties nearest to his hands and find them swollen rich, beneath their gowns.

“It is hot tonight, Papa. Is it not hot?”

“Indeed it is, my pets. Loosen your corsages, remove your dresses and your drawers. Let us be free from these unwanted coverings at last.”

Their hands would move like hands that never moved before, the buttons slipping from the buttonholes, the silky, milky gourds revealed, the nipples firm and rubbery, expectant, tingling to his touch, weighed, fondled, while they raised their skirts…

“What are you thinking-thinking now?” And this, across my thoughts, from Caroline.

“That Thomas will not stray again, nor will the girls have cause to-fret for their inheritance.”

“Those are the words. What of the music, dear?” she laughed, and whispered, “He will plough their furrows in the night. Will you, too, be my ploughman in the night, lie on my belly, plight your troth to me-again, again?”

“Again and ever on,” said I.

The cartwheels rattled. In the dark, a bird twittered somewhere from a dusky hedge as we drove by, and then- amazed by its own indiscretion-it fell quiet. The house had long diminished from our sight-had grown smaller, as immediate memories do, waiting to burgeon later when one dwells on them and draws them out from cloudy nothingness.