Chapter 7

Margaret started to light a cigarette but decided she really didn't want the damned thing. She was looking out over the trees behind the house. It was a peaceful summer evening. At least out there it was. Behind her Billy stalked back and forth in the room. It was the first time she'd ever seen him really drink hard at anything. And even though it was just a beer can he held. he seemed to be going at it somewhat awkwardly. Margaret would have been more amused if it weren't for the uncertainty which had suddenly engulfed everything.

"Look. Billy, I don't know any more than you do. I returned from the bank to find the boutique locked. There was a note inside. The same one I let you read." Margaret shrugged. "Alice had a sudden pang of homesickness for her mother. She called Mitch to have him take her up there in the car." Billy stopped stalking and looked at her with a frown.

"But Alice was glad to get away from Mom and Dad, same as I was," he said. "l can't figure her going back for any reason. Especially not homesickness."

"Wish I could tell you more," Margaret said. Of course she could tell him more but she chose not to. She could tell Billy about the damp places on the carpet inside one of the changing booths. Someone had soiled the carpet and made a hurried attempt at cleaning it up. But whoever had done it hadn't found the other spot on the little bench-like seat. The blood. Someone had bled all over her boutique. Margaret shuddered to think of what might have happened. And she knew that whatever had transpired, her husband was deeply involved in the mystery. She could conjure up all sorts of awful nightmares without half trying. Had Mitch craved his own niece so hotly that he'd gotten drunk and gone to the boutique and raped her? Had he even perhaps murdered her in a confused state of lust and passion? No, that was ridiculous to even consider. And yet all those terrible possibilities kept presenting themselves.

"I'm sure Mitch or Alice will call soon," she said finally crossing to where Billy stood running his fingers through his long, blond hair. She had to think optimistically. She had to think of pleasant things. Like the way her nephew's thighs looked. He really did have a nice ass. The shorts fit him tight and even in a soft state, his cock bulged out down one leg a little. She went over and hugged him from behind, her hands rubbing his hard belly. It was funny how easily she could forget all that other crap when she got close to Billy. There was really no use worrying about anything until they knew something for sure. She let her fingers stroke the flesh around his navel. It was fun inching under his t-Shirt like that.

"Anyway," she continued, "this does mean you and I will be alone for a while."

"I-I don't know Aunt Margaret. I feel funny, about the other night. I mean, everybody knew we were out in the boat. And then Betty heard all that screaming. Maybe somebody else heard it, too. I was surprised that Mitch didn't have a man-to-man talk with me. I was sure shaking in my boots just thinking about how pissed off he might-"

"Oh sshhhhh," Margaret scolded, putting a finger over his lips. She hugged him, pumped her hips against his muscled bottom. Then she got under his t-shirt again and began to stroke his hard little male nipples. Billy shuddered and tried to drink more of his beer.

"You'd better not, Margaret. What if Mitch and Alice came back?"

"He's taking her back home for a little visit, remember?" She pressed her cheek against his back and let her hands stray again. Down. Down to where his shorts cut across his abdomen. She dug under them and searched for the tangle of blond curls that grew around the base of his prick. She felt his cock thickening even before she touched It.

"Ohhhhh God!"

"You're such a lovely man," she whispered, undoing his shorts then. Billy was wearing a jock strap and the strong elastic pouch excited her. What a neat way for a man to go around. Carrying his jewels and cock in a cozy little sack.

"Where's Betty?" Billy gasped when he finally got a little air into his lungs.

"Is there something between you and Betty?" Margaret said, narrowing her eyes.

"No, I just wondered. I wouldn't like to be surprised."

Margaret persisted. "That night of the beach party. You and Betty were gone for a pretty long time getting that stuff from the store. And you were kind of embarrassed when I was asking those questions."

"What questions?" Billy asked, embarrassed again.

"About if a girl had ever sucked your cock." Billy pulled away and sat down in a chair.

"God, Margaret, you sure aren't afraid to just come right out and say it."

"I'm too old to bother with politeness any more." She watched him. "Well? Have you and Betty, you know, gotten it on?" She could see he still had a huge erection. Billy had tried to button back up, but the head of his cock had slipped out of the pouch of the jock strap. The darkened head crept out of one leg of the white tennis shorts. Margaret came over and knelt before him. "You haven't answered my question."