Best Summer Ever - Cover

Best Summer Ever

Copyright© 2021 by Alured de Valer

Chapter 6

Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 6 - My scheming little sister sees me as the perfect guy for her and her friends to use in learning how to date and build relationships. Throw in a couple of unexpected events like getting a hot car and it was my best summer ever! Winner 2021 Clitorides Award for Best Incest Story.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   mt/Fa   Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Incest   Brother   Sister   Anal Sex   First   Petting   Pregnancy   Safe Sex  

Sunday, May 20

A little after 4 p.m., I headed over to Morgan’s house to see if I’d completely torpedoed Kacie’s grand plan. I’d swapped the cargo shorts for some slacks just in case Dr. Ensberry was offended by bare legs and casually strolled along, covering the few blocks in about 15 minutes.

I rang the Ensberrys’ doorbell at 4:28, according to my phone, and waited for someone to answer. I was a bit surprised Morgan let her mother get it. I guess she didn’t want to seem too eager in front of her parents.

“Yes?” Mrs. Ensberry said when she saw me on the porch.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Ensberry,” I said. “I’m Gary Robinson. Is Dr. Ensberry in?”

She looked me up and down, like she was trying to decide if she liked what I was selling.

“You’re Kacie’s brother, right? Morgan said you might drop by. Come in and sit down. I’ll go get my husband.”

Mrs. Ensberry directed me into a well-appointed living room and disappeared down the hall. I took up a position in front of the fire place, not daring to sit on the furniture. Memories of my grandmothers admonishing me not to touch certain items (furniture, dishes, hand soap or towels) because “that’s for company” flashed through my head.

It was only a couple of minutes before Dr. Ensberry came in to greet me.

“So, you’re the boy who thinks he’s going to steal my little girl away, huh?” he said, offering a handshake which I quickly accepted.

“I was under the impression that I’m supposed to bring her back eventually,” I replied, drawing a chuckle.

As much as our families had interacted over the years, I had really had little contact with Morgan’s dad. I could probably pick him out of a lineup, but I wasn’t sure if he could do the same for me.

He was maybe 5-foot-8, a little shorter than me, wiry, balding and bespectacled. It was easy to see the family resemblance with his daughter.

“Come on back to my office,” he said. “Maybe we can do this without Morgan or her mother hovering around.”

I followed him down a hallway past the dining room and kitchen, what appeared to be Mrs. Ensberry’s sewing room and a closed door that I assumed to be the master suite. I hadn’t been in the house often enough to memorize the layout, usually just going to the front door on those occasions when I’d been sent to summon Kacie home, but it was a design that Dad’s builders had used extensively in our subdivision.

That meant the door at the end of the hallway should go to the garage. Dr. Ensberry stopped at a doorway on the left that I realized would be the counterpart to what I took to be the sewing room and directed me in.

It was set up for work more than my dad’s home office was, but was clearly Dr. Ensberry’s version of a man cave. The far wall held a modest sized flatscreen TV tuned to this week’s PGA tournament. It looked like they were getting down to the last few holes at the Nelson.

“You play golf?” he asked.

“I play at it,” I answered. “Dad got me a set of clubs a couple of years ago, but I don’t spend enough time during the school year to be very good. I either need to spend a summer on the range or try to play at least nine holes every day. Maybe I could get to where I could break 100, but right now 120 is more realistic.”

“I played with Doug today,” he said. “Maybe you could join us sometime. We’ve been looking for a fourth to join our regular threesome. The club pros like to send off foursomes.”

“I’ll check with Dad, but he’s already hinted that I should have a summer job lined up. I think he wants me to spend most of my time away from air conditioning.”

“Yes, I’ve heard his stories about growing up on the farm, being left out on a tractor all day in 100-degree heat with nothing but a half-filled water jug,” Dr. Ensberry laughed before suddenly changing the course of our conversation.

“Well, let’s get this over with. I understand you’ve asked Morgan to the Memorial Day picnic.”

“Yessir.”

“I guess I can allow it. It’s not like I don’t know where you live. Just don’t do anything that would make have to come looking for you,” he said.

“She may not leave anything for you to find if it gets to that point.”

“As long as you understand what you’re getting yourself into. She and your sister have been upstairs plotting for the last two hours.”

“I can only imagine,” I sighed. “I still don’t know any details other than what day and where. They’re supposed to be finalizing the details today, then my mom will give me my marching orders. I may not be free to come pick up Morgan until they actually start serving.

“I don’t even know what activities they have planned for the day. If it’s anything like last year, it should break up around 7:30 or so.”

“I know one item on the schedule,” Dr. Ensberry said. “A four-man scramble with some nice prizes. Tell your dad you’ve been volunteered to fill out our team and your mom that you have a tee time to make.”

“Yessir,” I said. “What time should I have Morgan home?”

“Let’s shoot for 10 o’clock on this one,” he said. “If the golf starts at 9 in the morning and they start the picnic at the same time as last year, you may throw in the towel before then.”

“I’m sure Morgan will tell me when I’m tired.”

“Well, don’t let her overwhelm you. She has a rather forceful personality.”

“Frank! That’s not a very nice thing to say about your own daughter,” Mrs. Ensberry said from the doorway.

“Just trying to prepare the young man, dear,” he said. “He’ll be facing it on his own soon enough.”

“I’ve seen examples already,” I said, rubbing a spot on my upper arm. “I should be going. Thanks for seeing me.”

“Sure,” Dr. Ensberry said. “Could you tell Morgan that I at least terrified you a little?”

“Like Olivier did Hoffman in ‘Marathon Man,’” I said.

“Ha! I haven’t thought of that movie in years. Almost made me give up on dental school, but my mother would have been even scarier if I’d dropped out.”

“Frank,” his wife admonished.

“Well, I’ll let you get going,” he said. “I should probably send Kacie along shortly, shouldn’t I?”

“Unless you want to keep her and pay for her wedding,” I said, using one of Dad’s favorite lines.

“Tell Doug I’ll let him pay for Morgan’s then. I haven’t ruled out encouraging her to elope.”

Mrs. Ensberry just rolled her eyes at our antics.


Mom and Dad were home when I got back to the house. Kacie arrived a few minutes later sporting an I-know-something-you-don’t grin.

I just killed time in my room until dinner, surfing the web on my tablet. Aaron Wise beat Marc Leishman by three strokes at Trinity Forest. The baseball team got shut out on the road to fall 12 games under .500, managing just two hits. I had a sudden flash of Bob Uecker as Harry Doyle: “That’s all we got!?!?”

I was scrolling through my Twitter feed when Mom called us to the table. We were just chit-chatting about events when Kacie piped up with “I understand Gary’s got an announcement to make,” gracing me with a smug look.

“Oh? Find a job?” Dad asked.

I decided to take the wind out of my sister’s sails.

“No job yet, but Dr. Ensberry asked me to be the fourth on your team in the Memorial Day scramble. He told me to tell Mom I have a tee time to make, so I may not be available for all the setup.”

That drew a squawk from Kacie, a look from Mom and a chuckle from Dad.

“Then I guess you’d better get in some practice this week,” he said, passing around a dish of mashed potatoes.

“Gary!” Kacie squealed impatiently.

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