Ron Taylor - Do me, Daddy!

"Neat," I said noncommittally. I felt as bad as Uncle Roy looked. Until the obvious occurred to me. If they were married, I'd have him around all the time. And Mom couldn't be watching the two of us twenty-four hours a day. She'd have no reason to be suspicious, unless Roy got a conscience attack and spilled the beans. In that case she'd probably kill one or both of us, but it was a long-shot anyway. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. I could feel my face brightening, and as it did, Roy's face got greener and greener. He knew what it meant as well as I did.

"When?" I asked.

"In a couple of weeks," Mom said. "Just as soon as we can get things arranged. You don't know anything abut this, Jenni, but Roy and I have been – well, we've been friends for a long time. I think he's always been the only man in my life. Your father – Dick – and I should never have married at all. I don't know how we lasted as long as we did. You kept us together much of the time. But it's all going to be different now. Tell me that you approve, darling."

I got up from the table and kissed both of them. Uncle Roy's skin was cold and clammy, and he felt as if he were on the verge of puking. "I approve," I said. "I do get to be maid of honor, don't I?"

Mom laughed and hugged me. I could feel her large tits pressing my smaller ones and it made me a little envious, but I laughed with her and she pulled Roy into the embrace, too, and the three of us stood hugging and talking, two of us jolly, one of us looking nothing like a happy, prospective bridegroom. Two out of three was a majority in any vote, though, and whatever qualms Uncle Roy might have felt, he was overruled.

Besides, why should he be queasy? He was marrying the cow and getting the calf free, wasn't he? And this calf had some horny plans for the future.

Mom turned down the idea of a church wedding. She opted instead for a smaller ceremony, to be held in the parlor of our house. It was a way of saying good-bye to the old place, too, since we'd be moving to New York after the honeymoon. Uncle Roy's business was concentrated in the city and Massillon was too far away for him to commute.

The wedding was set for Saturday morning, and Uncle Roy came in the evening before. I didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of getting him alone, and even when Mom was there with us he seemed strangely distant from me. I kissed him hello, but he didn't touch his lips to mine. Wedding-eve jitters, I thought, but there seemed to be more to it than that. When he looked at me, his eyes had a funny frightened expression, as if he knew something terrible was about to happen to me and he couldn't prevent it but couldn't help watching either. I got the creeps from him, much as I wanted to play with his big cock again, and somehow I was relieved when we all adjourned to our separate bedrooms for the night.

I didn't see Uncle Roy till just before the wedding. Goddamn him, he was avoiding me! Did he think I was going to unzip his fucking pants and go down on him in front of all the guests while we all waited for the bride to show up? Not a bad idea, but I didn't think it would play in Peoria.

He still looked sick when he saw me. Your time's coming, bastard, I thought with a nasty inner mirth. I could hardly wait for the day when he realized that he was the master of a household featuring not one but two horny broads, each of them hungry for his big dick.

The wedding itself I'll pass over. There were a ton of flowers, and I kept the arrangements from getting boring by flirting with the delivery boy, a guy named Kevin who looked like he could give me quite a tumble. The Episcopal minister presided over the ceremony, the house was full of friends and distant kin of ours and Uncle Roy's, and everything went as planned. There was a reception afterwards, of course, with booze flowing like water, and I got my full quota of champagne. Mom frowned when she saw me refilling my glass for the eighth or tenth time, but someone else got her attention and started giving her congratulations and I wandered away unnoticed.

I went upstairs to use the john in my room, sipping champagne as I pissed. Pouring it in one end and out the other. It made a lot of sense, didn't it? But I was giggly from the bubble stuff by then and it seemed like fun.

After pissing, I felt like smoking some grass. I closed the hallway door and took out a joint I'd been saving for a while, then sat down on my bed and smoked it. The pungent weed drifted round my nostrils as I puffed, and I felt really good and high. There was a knock on the door. I reacted slowly, holding the joint in my fingers and wondering whether to swallow it or what. Maybe it was Mom out there. I'd better find out. "Yeah?" I said slurrilv.

There was a cough in reply. I got up and went to the door, opening it just a hair.

Outside stood a boy, about my age. He was perhaps an inch shorter than I am, with dark wavy hair and a sweet, angelic face. I envied him that creamy complexion and his big, cow-like brown eyes.

"Uh," he said, his face reddening, "I just wanted to tell you I can smell your stuff out here in the hall. So maybe other people could, too."

"Thanks," I said, taking a fresh puff. "You want some?"

Who in the hell was he? I remembered being introduced to him but I couldn't recall his name. He took the joint, looking around to make sure no one was coming, and I let him into the room.

We sat down on the bed, and passed the reefer back and forth. Brian. That was his name. The son of Uncle Roy's cousin or something.

He was pretty, almost as pretty as a girl. I wondered if kissing him would be like kissing another girl. His lips were so full and inviting – I bent forward and kissed him, sucking smoke from his lungs.

"Hey!" he choked when I let him go. He looked so cute when he was embarrassed. I kissed him again, and this time I put my arms around him, forcing him to lie down with his feet dangling over the side of the bed. One of my legs slid across his lap and I instantly felt the stabbing push of his hard-on against my stockinged thigh. His cock didn't feel very big, but it was very, very hard. Boys that age get turned on so easily.

I kissed him till I had to come up for breath.

"What're you doing?" he asked me then, in a weak, little-boy voice.

"Kissing you," I said. "Haven't you ever been kissed before?"

"Sure I have," he replied too quickly, canceling out the conviction in his words. "I've kissed lots of girls."

My leg rubbed back and forth across his stiff dick. "Did you ever screw a girl?" I pursued, nibbling his earlobe.

I could feel his skin tingle and grow warm as he began to blush, and his pecker gave a shuddering jerk inside his pants. The fabric grew wet where my leg touched it and I knew he'd squirted in his trousers. I hoped it was his own suit.

"Oh, shit," he moaned, gently lifting my leg and looking at the smear on his pants.

"It'll dry," I assured him. "You're awfully quick on the trigger, aren't you?"

Young boys are so sweet when they're flustered. Brian couldn't be any older than I, but girls grow up much faster than boys do. A girl of fourteen is almost a grown woman, while a boy of fourteen is still very much a boy. The proof lay beside me.

I stood up. "Too bad," I said. "We could have had a nice time. I guess we're cousins by marriage or something, aren't we? I'd like to know you better, now that you're in the family."

He looked up from the bed, hope burning in his eyes. "Wait a sec," he said, "I can get it up again. And I'd like to know you better, too, Jenni."

I shook my head. "No time now," I sighed. "Mom and Uncle Roy – or should I call him Daddy now? – are gonna be leaving for their honeymoon before much longer, and I'll have to be there to say good-bye. You doing something tonight? Well, if your parents will let you, why don't you come over and visit with me? I'll be here alone while they're away and I'd like to have someone to talk to. You know?"