Chapter 10

The morning sunbeams knifed through Gwen's kitchen window to make a blinding glare upon the polished surface of her tea kettle. She stirred her coffee and looked at Don where he sat facing her across the table. It was safe to speak-she'd lent her Volks to Chris and Cathy, and they had gone for a drive.

"I've been thinking," she began, at precisely the same moment Don's lips gave vent to the very same words. They laughed benignly, and she surrendered the floor to him.

"I wonder if things haven't gone too far already," he said. "With the kids, that is. What's going to happen to them when they find out they're really brother and sister? That worries me very much."

Gwen nodded, recalling last night with Chris, her mind conjuring up the image of that frenetic first fuck, of the exploratory second, of the totally incredible third. "Yes," she agreed. "It could be unbearably traumatic."

Don was taken aback by Gwen's easy acquiescence and so relieved that he failed to notice the odd smile on her face. "You know," he said, "I was up most of last night thinking about this," and he winced at the unforgivably Freudian word-play he had made. But it was true. Cathy had been literally insatiable, and he felt tired as hell this morning, but a hundred thou wouldn't have bought that sense of exhaustion from him.

"We have only one option," Gwen pointed out. "We have to let this ride. The alternative is unthinkable. Cathy and I will be here another week before we go on to Georgetown. She's on the Pill, so there's no danger of pregnancy, and, if it's all right with you, I'm willing to look the other way while she and Chris do whatever they want."

"I don't see any other way," he concurred. "Besides, this is only a summer romance, and you know what those are like. A week alter they say good-bye they won't remember each other's names. So," he added, "at last we find something that we can agree on."

"That's a new one, isn't it?" She got up to freshen her coffee and Don followed. When Gwen turned, the coffee cup in her hands, Don reached to cup her unholstered tits where they rested inside her scarf halter. She frowned. "Don't," she told him.

"You're as beautiful as ever," he said. "And I used to play with them all the time."

"You signed away your right to do that when you made your X on the divorce papers," she pointed out.

He let go of her tits, and she went back to the table. Don leaned against the stove watching her. "I had thought that maybe-"

"That maybe we might take advantage of this and do some reuniting of our own? Not a chance! I told you a long time ago-the day you took me to catch the Reno plane-that I never wanted anything to do with you again, Don. I meant it then and I mean it now. You haven't changed a bit, you know. You're still as cocky as ever, so convinced of your own sexiness that you think I'd flop into bed with you at the drop of a hat."

He smiled. "You haven't changed much either, Gwen. Sometimes I hate you and sometimes I love you. Right now I don't know which." Don shook his head. "Did it ever occur to you that we wouldn't be in this situation at all today if you'd sucked me off on our first date instead of spreading your legs in my backseat and letting me pop your cherry?"

He thought for a moment that she was going to throw her coffee cup at him but she didn't. "You bastard," she said, and then Gwen got to her feet. She went to him slowly and their hands touched. "Maybe," she said, "as long as we're more or less forced into each other's company

"For old times' sake?" he suggested.

"For old times' sake," she said. "Maybe."

And so the sticky situation of Robinson and Corby was resolved. Neither Don nor Gwen felt any real guilt about what they had done with their children the night before, but they agreed that it was better for Chris and Cathy never to know the truth.

The kids? Cathy beamed when she received complete and total parental approval for anything she might wish to do during the rest of the vacation, and she couldn't restrain herself from giving Don and Gwen one great big kiss apiece. A heady sense of freedom swarmed through the ripe nubility of her body and that night, when Gwen joined Don for dinner at the Robinsons', Cathy was insistent that Chris be her guest, for dinner and for bed.

They lay together on Cathy's bed, fresh and mellow in the aftermath of a steamy sixty-nine, her fingers playing with his wet, limp cock. She knew that she could tease him to a new hard-on with only the slightest of exertions, but why hurry?

They had all night if they wanted it.

"You know what they're thinking," Chris said matter-of-factly.

"I know," Cathy said. "When it comes to Gwen, I have ESP like you wouldn't believe. She's not too happy about us, and I guess I can't blame her from her point of view. I mean, here she is, finding out that her little girl is not only old enough to do it, that she is doing it. It's a threat to her own security, a sign that she's growing older. I mean, Gwen's still very attractive, and sexy, too, but I can't stay a baby all my life for her sake."

"Maybe she'll realize that both the Corby women can be gorgeous and sexy and great lays all at the same time," he suggested, recalling again that incredible session he had passed with Gwen last night. It had been tremendous-hot, fast, horny-but she had scared the shit out of him. It was like trying to fuck a cyclone. He shut his eyes a moment and summoned up the image of Gwen riding atop his cock, her cunt working him like a demon, her face glowing with the saintly luminescence of a Flemish Madonna. It was freaky and far-out, but he didn't know if he wanted to try it again. He preferred Cathy. Sex with her was pleasurable and fulfilling and always full of surprises, but with Gwen it skirted dangerously close to being a religious experience. He was surprised that she hadn't crucified herself once it was all over.