Chapter 5

Whatever it was that was bothering Uncle Bob seemed to get resolved, because the next day he asked Sally and me if we wanted to take some more pictures. This time it was just with him. When we agreed, he produced two identical outfits that made us both laugh.

They were cheerleader uniforms, and he had gotten them at the thrift store on the mainland while my dad was in his interview. They were purple and white, with pleated skirts and a top that had large embroidered letters “WU” on the front. He even had some slightly worn pompons that went with them. Neither of us knew what school they had come from, but we didn’t care. Uncle Bob had, in his own strange way, unlocked a world of pleasure for both of us and we were appreciative of it.

We took the outfits into Sally’s room and, with needle and thread, made a few changes to them. When we were done our cleavage was exposed to the point that the shoulder straps could be pulled down our arms and the top would fall to our waists. We packed them in a knapsack and, having decided that beds were highly preferable to a blanket on the ground, told Uncle Bob that we wanted to take a boat ride. It didn’t make a lot of sense for cheerleaders to be on a boat, but these pictures would be for Uncle Bob and not anyone else, so we didn’t think it would matter.

Once we got out on the water Sally and I went below and changed. There were no panties or bras, of course. We even came up with a couple of cheers for Uncle Bob. When we got back topside we found he was heading for a nice secluded cove. We pranced around, teasing him a little, but he ignored us, watching the water instead, which was good because there were rocks off the shore. He had better control than we did, I think.

First we climbed on top of the cabin and jumped up in the air so the wind would lift our skirts. That was when Uncle Bob found out we had shaved. He was excited about that and said so. We sat on the edge of the roof and spread our legs, hiking the skirts up so he could see our naked cunnies and then showed him our breasts. He took closeup pictures of both. I don’t think he lasted for more than ten or fifteen minutes. We did our cheers for him, and even though they weren’t very good he laughed and clapped his hands.

Then, knowing that he was excited, we just went down into the cabin. When he followed, he found us on one bed, skirt’s hiked up to our waists, fingers busy in our shaved pussies, nipples stiff ... ready for fun.

And fun we had. Let me tell you that. None of the boys had ever done anything to our pussies except finger them and fuck them. Uncle Bob had something else in mind.

He did me first, sinking to his knees and crawling between my wide-spread legs, his mouth going without pause for my pussy. I barely got my fingers out of it in time for him to latch on and suck. I had heard of this kind of thing, of course, and seen my father do it to Aunt Prudence, but I wasn’t prepared for the feelings it caused when it was done to me. I was about to explode when he switched to Sally and reached for my suddenly lonely pussy with one of his big, thick, long, callused fingers. He reached way up inside me with that finger and twiddled it around, his fingertip running in circles around the mouth of my cervix. Of course I didn’t understand the mechanics of what he was doing then, but now I do. All I knew then was that it felt just fantastic. He did that while he licked and sucked his daughter’s bare pussy and she moaned and groaned and pulled his head hard.

I don’t know how long that lasted because all I was paying attention to was that finger, doing wonderful things to me. Then it vanished and he stood and stripped in front of us. His prick was beautiful to me, all long and gnarled and bumpy. I’d felt it in me that one time, when I sat on his lap, but it felt completely different when he crawled on top of me and eased it into my cunny. I just wanted to scream, it felt so good. Sally was complaining because she had to get off the bed to make room for us to lie down. Uncle Bob told her to just be patient, that she would get her turn soon.

He had this way of rooting up into me that was different from the boys. They were pretty frantic in their fucking, but he was almost methodical, going in deep and then moving his hips from side to side, or in a circle. His whole weight was on his hips except for the little he held up with his arms so he wouldn’t crush me. It did amazing things to my clit and it only took two or three minutes before I exploded. I know I made a lot of noise.

Then, with a surprisingly tender kiss, he left me and mounted Sally in another bed. Watching him do that thing he did with her was one of the sexiest things I ever saw. He had this look of concentration on his face as he watched her face, looking for the signs that what he was doing was taking her where he wanted her to be. When she flopped and wailed he speeded up a little bit, those circles going faster until he grunted and pushed three or four times.

“Ohhhh baby girl,” he moaned. “Cumming in sweet Sally’s pussy.”

I was jealous. It must have shown, because his big hairy head swiveled toward me and he said, “Don’t you worry little Kelly, I’ll make some fresh to give you later.”

For some reason neither of us remembered his frantic “Don’t cum in her!” from before. Looking back on it, he had obviously rethought that position by then.

He lay on Sally for a little while, every once in a while giving a little push with his loins, while she kissed him and told him she loved him. Then he finally got off of her, leaving her there, still in her cheerleader outfit, breasts exposed and skirt up to reveal her bald, glistening pussy, full of his spunk.

He stood, looking from one to the other of us. “I can’t help myself,” he said softly. “I shouldn’t be doing this with you two.”

“I love it Daddy,” said Sally. I agreed with her and said so.

“Yes, but you’re both going to end up pregnant as can be, if you’re not already.”

“Would it be so terrible if I had your little baby?” asked Sally.

“You’re way too young to be having to take care of wee bonny babies - both of you. You’ve got your lives to live and I’ve ruined them.”

I wiggled out of my cheerleader outfit and, naked, lay back and ran my hands in circles over my abdomen.

“I can’t imagine a baby being in there,” I said.

“That’s the problem,” he said. “You’re so young you have no idea what’s happening to you. I should never have let things go so far.”

“I wish we could just live with you,” I said. If I had a baby and lived with you then Sally and I could take care of it together.”

He groaned. “There’ll be two babies, I suspect, if we aren’t lucky, and if we don’t do something to stop them from being made. And what about school?”

“In America you can study at home,” I said, as if that solved every problem.

“And what about Aunt Pru?” asked Sally, who was taking her outfit off too. “She’s trying to get pregnant with Uncle Rod’s baby.”

“Aye, and that would make three, now wouldn’t it?” pointed out Uncle Bob. “Having three babies in the house would be a change indeed, don’t you know. Where would we put them all?”

I stood up and tried to pooch out my stomach, letting all the muscles go. Even so I could only let my belly sag out a few inches. By arching my back I made it look like I might be a few months along, just beginning to show. It didn’t look all that bad to me. I was young.

“In America I did some babysitting,” I said, rubbing my slightly distended belly some more. “I liked taking care of babies. I didn’t think about having my own, but now that I do, I kind of like the idea.”

“Don’t be daft, girl,” snorted Uncle Bob. I noticed his penis wasn’t so shrunken as it had been when he pulled it out of Sally.

“Wouldn’t you like to make a baby in me?” I asked, reaching down to rub at my clit. “I love the feel of your hot sperm shooting in my tummy. I think you’d make a fine, strong baby.”

Uncle Bob threw his hands up in the air. “Now see there?” he groaned. “That’s exactly the kind of thing that makes me do things I shouldn’t do.”

I pretended to pout. “But didn’t you say you’d make a nice new batch of baby makers for me?”

“Aye, lass, I did, and that was when I was in the throes of fertilizing me own fair daughter. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. If it’s left to me both of your bellies will be swelling. I can’t help myself.”

I crawled over to him and took his mostly limp penis in my hand. It was sticky with partially dried juices. For some reason it didn’t bother me at all. I remembered the feel of it in my mouth before, and the sounds he had made when I did that. I looked up at my uncle and smiled.

“A man should always keep his promises,” I said. Then I took him in my mouth.

It was completely different than the first time. First off, he was soft and I could use my cheeks and lips to make it move all around. When I sucked as much of it into my mouth as I could he groaned and his hands came to my hair. We had put our hair in pony tails for the pictures, and he grabbed mine like it was a handle. But he didn’t pull me off of him.

The taste was different too, in a tangy sort of way, and I couldn’t tell if I was tasting his sperm, or Sally’s juices ... or maybe both. But either way I didn’t mind it at all. The noises he made, made me feel powerful.

In the end, he kept his promise, pressing me to the bed. As he fucked me I told him the damage, if there was any, was probably already done, and that I wanted to feel his maleness bathing my pussy. He lunged into me then, crying out as he shot me full of his new batch of baby makers. It felt just as good as I knew it would.

To say that Sally and I tried to get pregnant wouldn’t be true. At least not in the sense that we set out to intentionally get pregnant. I think rather it was that the combination of the feelings of having a stiff prick up inside you, and our emotional feelings for the men who were keeping our pussies full of hard prick and warm, sticky spunk, made us not care, or not worry, or something. Of course it’s also quite possible that we thought that it wouldn’t happen to us. Until you’ve been pregnant, you don’t really think you ever will be. These days any girl with a brain in her head would have known that it was just a matter of time, but I think we ignored that.

The fact that it took them three months to actually impregnate us both up might have helped us think that way too. When you’ve been fucked at least twice a day for a month and then have a period, it tends to make you think you’re invulnerable to sperm. When that happens two months in a row without taking any precautions whatsoever, it strengthens the feeling of safety.

But that’s not to say that either Sally or I tried anything at all to keep from getting pregnant. Whenever one of the boys, or Uncle Bob left a nice heavy load of sperm in our wombs, we didn’t jump right up and go sit on the pot to let it drain out, or douche or anything like that. Most of the time we lay there and let it just soak in while we relaxed. If it happened in the grotto, which was a once or twice a week thing until it got cold, we swam and got fucked, and swam and got fucked by somebody else, until all the boys and/or men had gotten off in at least one of us. Of course being in the water is known to make it difficult for those other little swimmers, but even so, we usually got a pussy full later that night too.

And, when we had been going to school for over a month, and I missed my first period, while I felt a certain amount of dread because now my father would find out what had been going on, I wasn’t all that unhappy at the thought that I’d have a baby. A couple of weeks later Sally joined me in the “missed a date with Herman” category of women and I somehow felt that everything was all right. We talked about it in the night, and we both agreed that this was simply the start of another new segment of our young lives.

The blowup - and there was a blowup - came when we were both three months along. We hadn’t told anybody, partly from fear of ... the blowup ... and partly because we didn’t want anybody getting any ideas about us visiting an abortion doctor. The blowup came, oddly enough, as a result of my father trying to celebrate Thanksgiving. Of course they don’t have that holiday in Scotland, but it was an excuse to have a party. Daddy was employed now, working as a consultant, but we still weren’t making enough to have our own house, and were still living with Uncle Bob. If you think about it, no one in the whole house had any reason to want us to move out.

Anyway, Daddy brought home all the trimmings for a Thanksgiving feast, along with several bottles of a fruity sweet wine.

You want to know something funny? There I was, a very young girl, pregnant because of basic stupidity, and yet, once I knew I was pregnant, I took it relatively seriously. I paid a lot of attention to a balanced diet, and tried to get plenty of exercise and do all the things that were recommended for early pregnancy on the internet. I was already feeling guilty because I hadn’t seen a doctor. Sally was worried about that too, but there wasn’t anything we could do about it without revealing our secret.

Then, at the Thanksgiving feast, each place was set with a big wineglass full to the brim with that fruity wine. We had been given sips before, on special occasions, and everyone knew we liked wine because we always begged for more - and were denied it.

In full instructor mode, Daddy said that, to begin the meal, we would all say something we were thankful for. He started and made it a toast, saying how thankful he was for family.

Everybody took a sip of wine except Sally and me.

Neither of us took a drink of the wine, because neither of us wanted to put alcohol into our bodies with a three month old fetus inside us.

It was noticed ... and questioned.