Chapter 2

The sound of a pick-up truck’s monster tires in the gravel driveway woke me up from a soothing nap in those late afternoon hours when even the crickets went silent because it was too hot for the effort of rubbing their legs together.

Speaking of legs, I was covered with assorted legs of my still attractive aunt and her nympho daughter Veronica, my favorite hot-to-trot cousin. I was still on “sharing his last beer” terms with my New Jersey favorite uncle, but I sensed without any hesitation the fact that he would not appreciate my humping his spouse in the middle of the day right where his daughters could see her undeniable shameful behavior.

My other cousins, Betty, Rose, Mary and Sallie were all down at the State-run swimming pool getting their deep tans even deeper. The whole family had year-round passes handed out to the union-connected guys like my uncle with his shady business friends. I was on excellent ass-hole to belly button terms with all my “camping buddies” cousins as well as being admittedly close to their mature over-sexed mama, Mrs. O’Brian.

The O’Brian side of my family-tree was situated mostly on the other side of the Hudson River in the glorious State of New Jersey. I had discovered the treasure trove of pussy just waiting for my friendly weapon when my sister and mom and I went there on a sort of “no other option” visit because we got evicted from our shitty apartment in the slums of Manhattan. I guess we were lucky to have such a kind-hearted family close enough to save us from the clutches of social services even if we had to live in a shed with only a single light and a fan to circulate the sultry summer air. They even shared their single bathroom with us and we were patient to wait our turn because the seven of them tended to spend a lot of time in it. We all squatted down on the shaggy carpet to watch the silly television with the magnifying glass on the front to make the tiny screen look a little bit bigger. I kind of liked the squatting down part because I was often treated to unidentified exploring female hands seeking solace in places I loved to be touched. Besides, those girls were so tired of kissing each other just to stay in practice that they used me like their special play-toy to improve their technique with a real live male. That first summer, I had managed to screw all five sisters and even took their mama from behind when she bent over to do the dishes after dinner. Fortunately, my uncle was so deep in his cups most of the time; I was elected to do the honors with all six of them in lieu of actual rent for my mom, my sister and me. I considered it a debt of gratitude because in all honesty if it wasn’t for them helping us out, we were literally up shit’s creek.

My uncle staggered in the front door and went immediately to the ice box to get a fresh cold beer. None of the girls drank his beloved beer and I was strictly a “coke” man from the get-go. When I say, “coke”, I mean the cola variety and not the white powder crap the jigs up in Harlem used to make them feel like the lords of the universe. My mom was still in a state of shock from the eviction and all and she was transparently upset about her latest “uncle” shoving off for a long route to China on one of those slow moving ships that hardly seemed like they was moving at all. As “uncles” go, he was one of the good ones, what with always bringing in something that fell off a truck or was salvaged from some unfortunate accident. Of course, the falling off was generally more of a shove and the accident was more arranged than unavoidable. It was probably a good thing that we got evicted when we did, because a wave of Puerto Ricans came in with the Democratic Party politics and insured a one-party system would prevail in the city for quite some time in the future. They took over our neighborhood with a vengeance and everything changed right down to the ads on the shop windows sporting an entirely new language.

As soon as her father closed the bedroom door, Veronica was straddling my torso with her almost naked hindquarters and her mom was watching us from the kitchen with her hand frantically rubbing her thin summer dress under the countertop with unusual velocity. Somehow, my sweet cousin managed to get my frantic cock up under her skimpy panties and I was buried in her sticky goo sliding inside her channel with total abandon and satisfaction. Of all five New Jersey cousins, she was the one with the creamiest pussy and seemed constantly ready to receive me covertly under a blanket or a cover pretending we were as innocent as two bluebirds singing a duet.

“That’s it, right there, Oh! Bobbiiii, don’t stop! Give it to me, Bobby, fast and hard, just the way I like it.”

I loved the verbal encouragement, even though I hated being called Bobby. It made me feel like a little boy and I wanted desperately to be a full-grown man at that junction of my life. I had to admit that being called Bobby was a small price to pay for burying my salami in such a sweet sticky tightness that cradled my business in a velvet glove of pleasure. Veronica was nothing short of perfect in dispensing her “goodies” in a way that insured a flood of spunk would soon be delivered high inside her tight little channel of love.