Unknown - Bea_s pony

"It must be," he said, "that people have a low regard for the objects that have satisfied their sexual appetites, and a high one for those who have not. If we all could fuck our mothers and our daughters, our sisters and our aunts, we might see a little more clearly."

Helen interrupted our discussion by her return. "They want to talk to you, Bea," she said.

I stepped into the office. There was no one inside, but I noticed the telephone off the hook and picked it up. Since Helen had brought them into it, I decided to tell the police the entire story. I told them I would not sign a complaint. I was in Texas only a few days, I said, and didn't want to stay.

They settled for a description of the truck, and the names of the boys involved. They would pick them up for questioning, and perhaps put a scare into them.

Just as I was hanging up, the tall, pot-bellied man who ran the place came into the room from a rear doorway.

"Glad to see you back, Miss," he said. "Your sister was plumb worried about you." He fumbled in a shirt pocket for a cigarette. "Did she mention my cheetah?"

"You have a cheetah?" I asked him.

"Most beautiful cat in the world," he asserted, lighting the weed, and blowing out the match with his first puff.

"I promise to ask her," I said, turning to go. He was leaning on the counter with both hands. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up past his elbows, and I noticed the arms were quite hairy.

"You all come back, now," he waved. He had a look about him, the kind of an expression on his face I used to think belonged only to old torn cats.

Helen was suggesting the four of us, Jack, herself, John, and I, get together that evening. She suggested her place, but John came in with a good pitch for his place in the woods.

As I rejoined them I said we might have to wear hip boots. John laughed.

"I told your sister I lived on a muddy road," he said to Helen, "but it's actually quite dry at the moment."

"Well," said Helen, "let's hope it doesn't rain then. His place all right with you, Bea?" she asked.

"Well, those aren't exactly the conditions I had anticipated," I put forward. "John told me he lived alone."

"I see," said Helen, catching my meaning. She looked from one of us to the other, savoring the thoughts she must have been thinking.

"But let's see what develops," I continued, smiling up at John. "Well have to postpone our debate," I said to him.

We parted then. As we were driving off, John pulled the pickup alongside my window. He was holding something tightly in his fist and extending it outward.

"Present for you," he said. "Compliments of John Young."

I reached up and took it. It was my torn underpants. I looked at him in complete surprise. "How did you?"

"Wedged down between the door and the seat," he said. "See you later," he waved, and drove off.

I held the torn, stained reminder of the morning's adventure up for Helen to see.

"Come to think of it, Sis," she observed, "I'd like to hear your story first."

I was in the bathtub soaking, telling Helen of my narrow escape that morning. I had filled the tub full and was able to submerge all of me, except for my head. The water was good and hot.

Helen was sitting on the toilet seat in her robe listening intently, her feet propped up on the edge of the tub. I could see everything she owned in that position, and what I saw was deliciously pleasing.

Remembering the comments made about my hairiness that day, I wondered what, if any, remarks would have been said had it been Helen there instead of me. Certainly no man in his right mind could fault that pussy.

Her hair was much lighter than mine and formed a perfect triangle. Whereas mine tended to grow wild, hers almost seemed sculpted, the margins clear, the hairline well defined. The hair itself glowed in contrast to my own, which could look dull, lacking the magical highlights I observed now in Helen's.

Her well-developed lips formed a perfect cleft. No open gash here, no flabby distended labia. Just Helen's fat little pussy for all the world to see. I wondered how much Jack appreciated that darling cunny.

Helen observed my rapture and, noticing the source of it, closed her legs and tucked in her robe.

"You can make a girl horny sometimes, Bea," she noted. "There are times when I think you appreciate me that way more than Jack. He's never one to drink me in with his eyes like that."

I lifted a leg up out of the water. "I wish I had it all together like you," I told her.

"Bea Starr, you're still fourteen years old wishing you were seventeen, aren't you?" she maintained. She got up off the seat. "Here, let me scrub your back."

I sat up, swirling the water around me. My back was piping hot.

"I better take my robe off," Helen said, "or it'll get wet for sure." The robe dropped and she stood there, naked, as close to me as ever I could remember. Uncontrollably, my hand reached up and lightly touched the top of her thigh. The wet fingers trailed off down and back into the tub.

She bent over and started scrubbing my back with a soapy washcloth. Her large breasts swung in unison with her movements. I turned my head to get closer to them, and one slapped against my face, the hard nipple tracing a line across my upper lip. Indescribable urges were tormenting me.

"Hey!" I cried. "That's heavy cargo."

She laughed. She was rinsing the back now, lifting the water up with both hands and letting it stream down from my neck. Running her flat hand back and forth across, she seemed satisfied no more soap remained. "There!" she said, straightening.

I rose from the water and stood there as she handed me a towel. She had put her robe back on, and as I stepped out of the tub, she went out the door. I dried myself off quickly and got into my own robe.

Helen was seated at the vanity when I entered the bedroom.

"Let's hear your story, sweets," I urged, flopping on the bed. "I'll bet it has something to do with a cheetah, am I right?"

"Did Telford tell you?" she asked, slightly surprised.

"The guy at the kennel is Telford?" At her nod, I went on. "Only that he owned one and to ask you about it. He looks like a guy that would own a big cat. What happened after I left?"

"After you left I got out of the car and stood, leaning up against it. It makes me nervous to just sit in a parked car alone. I watched the cars go by, and saw the black panel truck, too. Some kid was driving. He slowed down and mentally undressed me as he went by.

"I remember thinking, these guys will be back to give me a hard time. To my surprise when they did, there were you in the middle looking out at me. I couldn't understand why you hadn't stopped to explain what was going on.

"My next thought was that you hadn't stopped because they had kidnapped you, horrible as that sounded. I started hiking then back to the kennel as fast as I could. It must have taken me ten or fifteen minutes. When I burst into the office I really startled Telford. I was so out of breath I couldn't make much sense, my words were mostly gasps, I guess.

"Telford finally got the gist of my story and told me to wait and see, that you had probably picked up a ride to the AAA station. Just in case, I thought I had better call them anyway. If you did show up, they would simply tell you I had already called and told you to wait there.

"I did that. I called them and no, you hadn't arrived yet. They wanted the Triple A number, but I didn't have it. You had taken the card, remember? They finally agreed to send the tow truck out, anyway. One down, one to go, I thought.

"Telford kept telling me to relax, and then offered me a drink. It sounded like a good idea, and I told him to make it real stiff. He said, 'It'll be that, all right,' and asked me to join him inside.