Chapter 1

Bob Duncan lived what most Americans would call a hard life. He lived in an old, drafty farm house that he had inherited from his mother and father, along with the farm that went with it, a whole 160 acres they had homesteaded in Texas. And he farmed that land too, in a day and age when most small farmers were going out of business or being bought out by big corporations. But he made a quite decent living growing a variety of things, including, but not limited to tomatoes, lettuce, melons, beets, broccoli, celery, radishes, onions, cabbage, and strawberries. He had the kind of customers who were very particular about their produce, among them fifteen of the top chefs in America. He grew everything organically, which was one reason his products were so much in demand. Business was so good he had ten men on the payroll. Most of them didn't speak English, but they knew what to do and he paid them well, compared to what they'd have made somewhere else. One of them had even asked if he could bring his wife and two children up from Mexico to live with him. Bob had just nodded. He couldn't find anyone white at any wage who was willing to spend ten hours a day in the fields. His men lived in trailers he'd brought in, most of which were in better condition than the old house, but Bob didn't much care about appearances. He was tall and lanky, on the thin side from hours of hard work every day, with an unruly mop of brown hair and a beard he hacked at every once in a while with a pair of scissors.

What Bob took pride in was his produce ... and maybe the almost religious endorsements he got from his customers.

And then there were his pumpkins. Bob reserved five acres for pumpkins, to supply various markets in the fall, but mostly for fun. He loved growing them big, and had, over the years, grown some a child of nine or ten could crawl into.

Normally, other than the County Fair, Bob sold the best of his pumpkins in a stand out by the road, and he trucked the rest to local grocery stores, mostly in and around the Ozarks, starting around the first of October.

So, in Mid September, right after an unseasonable frost swept through Florida, and most of Georgia and Alabama as well, Bob heaved a sigh of relief that it had stayed east of his operation. The cold front had moved in and sat on the land like a cat, sitting on the mouse it just caught, waiting for it to die.

As he looked at his pumpkins, thanking his lucky stars the cold hadn't hit him here and rotted the whole crop, he wondered how his sister was doing. She was technically his half sister, having been fathered by his father. But they had grown up together and, as far as they were concerned, he was her brother, and she was his sister. She lived in the middle part of Florida, and he knew they had gotten hammered. That night he took a few minutes to call her.

"Hey sweetness!" he said as the phone was answered by a sultry feminine voice. "It's been a long time since I've seen those tight little buns you carry around behind you."

Bob had long had the kind of relationship with his sister that raised eyebrows whenever they were together in public. She invariably talked about how ugly, misshapen and stupid he was, in loud complaints, while he responded by pointing out each and every part of what he called "your luscious self". Both of them were kidding, and anyone who heard them could tell they were kidding, but the vituperative nature of her attacks on him, and the salacious nature of his comments to her often left people with slack jaws.

"Uncle BOB!" came the scandalized cry from the phone. Then, off mike, Bob heard who was obviously one of his two teenaged nieces yell "MOM! It's Uncle Bob and he thought I was YOU!"

She came back to the phone. "Uncle Bob you're not supposed to talk about my butt. That makes you a dirty old man."

Bob now had enough information to know he was talking to his sixteen year old niece, Alice. "Well sweetheart, I can't help it if you sound like a grown woman. I been calling your mamma for years now and whenever a grown woman answered it was always her. How was I supposed to know you had grown up so much?" He got an urge. "Besides, isn't your secret nick name 'Apple Ass'?" This was a reference to the name she'd gotten because of her job. She worked in an apple orchard and her tight little butt was the shape of a couple of nice big apples packed into her jeans. Bob went on teasing. "Besides, the last time I saw you your own butt was pretty fine looking. So in one way you'd have to admit that not only do you SOUND like your mamma, you LOOK like her too!"

"You're incorrigible" giggled the girl.

"Here's mamma," she said and he heard her blow him a kiss. He had a sudden mental vision of those soft, pursed lips on that lovely teen face and wished he was there to press his own against them. Alice was a looker and had been for several years now. She made Bob's dick move around in his pants quite often. They ALL did in that family, he had to admit. He teased them a lot when he was there, and they teased right back.

Alice's older sister Mary had long, dark hair, and was tall and thin like he was. She looked like some kind of model, with a slinky build. Her breasts weren't overly large but, in the last few times he'd seen her she almost never wore a bra and she had prominent nipples that got him going every time.

Alice looked completely different. She was a carbon copy of her mother, younger of course, and every time he saw her he remembered the good times when he and Betty were growing up.

As he heard Alice hand over the phone he thought about the woman he was about to talk to. Betty had always reminded him of the cartoon character who bore her name in the Archie comic books of his youth. She was blond and built like the cartoon character, with bulging breasts and hips that begged to have a man's hands grip them while he pounded her pussy from behind. She too had very prominent nipples, which were the only thing that "marred" an otherwise pure and wholesome girl-next-door appearance. When Betty was around men, they paid attention to her in that brotherly way of men who lust after their sister.

Bob was no exception and, even though he hadn't seen her naked since they were kids, his prick had spurted uncounted times with her picture in his head as he jerked himself off.

Bob masturbated a lot, mostly to ease stress and because it just felt good. Actual relationships were time consuming and he didn't have the social skills necessary to play the dating game, with all it's unwritten rules, and invisible pitfalls. Women were attracted to him, but it was just too much trouble to woo them and jump through the hoops women seemed to love so much since women's liberation.

His reverie was broken by a sweet sounding voice in his ear. "What the hell do you want now you ass ugly moron?"

"Hi there gorgeous. How are those fabulous titties I never get to taste?" he responded.

"They're right here on my chest, where they're going to stay, and where you won't get to within a hundred miles of them!" she laughed. She tried to sound mad at him as she delivered her barbs, but rarely succeeded because she was actually pleased with his "compliments."

"Ah, well, life goes on" he sighed. "But you might be wrong about me not getting within a hundred miles of them. I thought I'd better check on you and see how you weathered the storm. You need any help?" In Florida everybody had air conditioning, but some folks didn't own a furnace.

"Ohh Bobby, you can be so sweet sometimes," she said. Then in a deeper voice. "We got our asses kicked. That's how we're doing. People's pipes froze up and broke and there was ice and that broke trees."

"Is the house OK? Are you guys OK?" he asked worriedly.

"We let the water run and bundled up together in bed through most of it. They cancelled school, so the girls got to stay home. If you put on lots of clothes and didn't stop moving it wasn't too bad. It sure hurt the farmers though. And poor Alice lost her part time job. You know how she was working for that fruit outfit, in their apple orchard? No more apples. They all froze. Mary and her little 4H friends did OK, but that's because all the animals have fur. Mary's little lamb was frisking around in that cold like a kid in a swimming pool. And the rest of us were turning blue! Are you sure I can't come live with you?"

Her question was a joke. Bob had been trying to get his sister to move to the farm for years. Ever since her husband, Harry, had died he'd made it a standing offer. He even offered to build her a custom built house. But she always said "No." She'd turned him down then, and two times since then, when hurricanes swept through her town. Bob knew it had been hard. She'd never have even joked about moving in with him if she wasn't.

"You have the sorriest luck of any woman I ever knew," he said. "You know I looked it up on the internet. Harry is among only three known people to have been struck and killed by a meteorite in recorded history. You've been through three hurricanes and two tornadoes that were spawned by hurricanes, and now an ice storm. Your car is brand new and it still breaks down more often than my '68 Chevy pickup. AND, you've got two daughters who are almost as luscious as your own luscious self."

"What do my daughters have to do with sorry luck. They're great!" she complained.

"Yes, they are. And that's the problem. Every man who sees any one of you three is off to the races in his pants and planning on how he can crawl between ya'll's legs. No woman should be cursed like that. Hell, woman, you can't trust anything a man says, cause he's always got ulterior motives!"

"Well, you ugly stump, what else hasn't changed? How 'bout you Bob, do YOU have ulterior motives? Are YOU trying to crawl between my legs like the snake in the grass you are?" She thought that might shut him up.

"Well of COURSE I've been trying to slip into your bed for YEARS, woman. Why do you think I don't come visit very often? It takes me six months to make my dick limp after every time I see you and those women you still insist on calling girls."

He sounded exasperated, but he really wasn't. And Betty knew that. She also knew, on some unconscious level that he meant a lot of what he said about her beauty ... and maybe even what he kept saying he wanted to do to her ... with her.

"Well, I tell you what, you worthless lump of camel shit, why don't you just come on over here and help me replant my bushes and flowers that froze and died. That MIGHT make up for your thoroughly useless presence here. But I'm only doing this to get a good meal into that skinny bony body of yours cause you don't even have enough common sense to know how to take care of yourself! You understand that? And if you try to touch me I'll cut off the first thing I lay eyes on."

Anyone hearing that kind of invitation would be well within their rights to assume that it was no invitation at all, indeed that she hated her brother.

But Bob knew different. He knew she wanted to see him and that he needed to get over there to Florida. "Tell you what sweet cheeks" he said smoothly into the phone. "You put some lipstick on those cute nipples of yours and get ready, cause when I get there I'm going to make up for the last five years of you getting nothing but hot looks. And I'll bring a shovel." he finished. "I might just do some work while I'm there."

They hung up and the first thing Bob did was hit the internet to see what produce availability and prices were like in Florida. If he was going over there he might as well take a truckload of something or other to pay for the trip. It was pretty late in the year for most things, and he naturally searched for information on pumpkins. He whistled when he found out there wasn't a pumpkin to be had in the three state area. Betty hadn't been kidding when she said agriculture took a massive hit from the storm.

Two days later Bob was steering his Peterbilt 387 down the road, pulling a fifty-three foot reefer loaded with pumpkins. He had already sold them over the phone and was going to make a killing on this one load. His sleeper was also being used for pumpkin storage, but those were for his sister and nieces.

Two days after that Bob dropped hook, leaving the trailer with the produce company that had bought his pumpkins and which now owned the only pumpkins within four hundred miles. Bob left with a check that was the equivalent of two months profits, and his farm was still producing normally back home. He headed for Betty's place, but stopped at a truck stop to take a shower. He was exiting through the gift shop when a display of manikins caught his eye. It was called "sleepwear", though he doubted anyone would actually sleep while wearing it. In one sense they were Halloween costumes, and he surely wanted to be at the party where a woman wore any of these costumes.

One was supposed to be a witch's nightgown. It was all black gauzy material, a jacket that covered a bra and panty set, all of which were see-through. It came with a fake nose, and some warts that could be stuck to the face, along with a witch's pointed hat.

Then there was Vampirella's nightgown. It was a bustier with a quarter cup bra that supported the breasts, but did not cover them. It too was black, made of satin, with what looked like strips of torn cloth hanging down from various places. It came with fake vampire teeth, and theatrical blood and high heels.

And finally there was an outfit called "The Zombie's rags". It was a one piece bodysuit that had been ripped and torn so badly that everything a woman had would be visible. It was made of strips of variously colored cloth that gave the impression of a dirty torn outfit of some kind. It came with fake broken and dirty stick-on fingernails and a body paint that would make your skin look sickly greenish.

The outfits were hilarious and all three came with a skin tight body suit that had pictures of breasts and pubic hair printed on them. So a woman could wear the body suit under one of these outfits and LOOK naked, even though she was most thoroughly covered. They were the most unique costumes he'd ever seen.

Bob always got his nieces a present of some kind when he came to visit. He had the pumpkins in the truck, but this would be even better. He couldn't resist and bought one of each, to give them to his sister and nieces. He knew he'd get yelled at, but who knew, maybe some day one of these costumes might do one of them some good. He put them in the sleeper and drove on over to Betty's.

Arriving at his sister's house was one of Bob's favorite things to do. This was primarily because he got three hot female bodies pressed against his during the hello hugs. Today it was Alice who noticed him drive up in the tractor and who ran outside squealing "UNCLE BOB!"

She slammed into him, crushing her big teen breasts into his chest as she reached her face up for a kiss. Her arms went around him in an attempted bear hug, but he grabbed her first, lifting her off the ground and swinging her in a circle as she squealed some more.

Then he kissed her.

Bob had decided, when the girls were fourteen and fifteen, that pecks on the cheek were no longer appropriate. Instead, he KISSED the girls. The first couple of times had been hilarious. The first time he kissed them like they were women, they both went limp in his arms. Their eyes had been wide and alarmed when he pulled back from those passion filled kisses, but he defused the situation by saying "Now THAT'S a real kiss for a real woman!"

Now, several years later, they were not only used to it, they relished the arrival of their Uncle Bob so they could kiss a man the way their hormones told them to ... and get away with it.

Right now, for instance, when Alice got her kiss, she was more than ready to give it back. As their lips came together, hers were open, inviting, and she darted her tongue into his mouth before he could do it to her. And THAT caused her hormone filled body to automatically grind against him. His bone sprouted immediately as the front of her jeans rubbed his cock. Part of him wanted to withdraw. He knew she'd feel the lump hardening against her. Part of him wanted to push back. It would feel so good.

He settled for swirling his tongue into her mouth and giving her one little bump and grind, before pushing her back and raking his eyes up and down her svelte body.

"MMMm MMMmm you're a sight for sore eyes," he said.

Her impish face peered up, smiling. "Didja bring me anything?" she asked, excited.