Chapter 23

Bobby’s hand rested on Misty’s stomach as they lay side by side, catching their breath.

“Now that’s more like it,” panted Misty.

“You think we’re done?” Bobby chuckled.

Her eyes got serious.

“The next three days may have to last me for the next five years, Bobby.” There were suddenly tears in her eyes. “Maybe longer.”

Bobby didn’t want her to get maudlin.

“Why? Don’t tell me you’re giving up men altogether.”

She pushed at him, but smiled.

“I should!” she said. “Look what the last one did to me!” Her hand went to lay on top of his.

Now it was Bobby who got serious.

“There is always a second love,” he said. “If you want there to be.”

She just stared into his eyes for a while.

“I know,” she said. “I can’t imagine it ... but then I couldn’t imagine you either.” She let him kiss her gently, but pushed him back. “Can you be happy if some other man raises our child?”

“If you’re happy, that’s what will make me happy,” he said.

His face was calm, but inside was a different matter. Bobby had contact with all his children, some more and some less. He was completely comfortable with Jake being called Daddy by two of those children. He had already heard Steven call Sal “Papa Sal,” and that hadn’t hurt at all. There were others, many others, who called another man all the names that would bond them to a man other than their biological father, and he could live with that, because he got to see them and talk to them and know they were happy children.

But this was different, somehow. To know he had a child that he’d probably never see, and never hold or play with. He’d not get the chance to read the child under his hand any stories, or play horsy, or babysit. It made his stomach hurt. An outsider might have thought that Bobby Dalton cast his seed wherever it might happen to fall and that he cared not for the results, but that was not true. He may have looked at it differently than many men would ... most, if the truth be flatly stated ... but he still cared.

He couldn’t let her know how it hurt him inside, though. He knew this had been a difficult decision for her too. He knew that, somewhere inside her, there was the wish that this hadn’t happened ... that she hadn’t run into Bobby Dalton ... and that he hadn’t complicated her career. He didn’t want to fan that hopefully small coal of resentment and chance it setting something aflame that would remove forever the possibility that he would see Misty ... and their child again.

“Thank you,” she said, leaning into him. “I’m ready to go again.” Her eyes were serious again. “We only have three days.”

Suddenly, the next three days took on greater importance to Bobby too.

Misty didn’t know about the twins, who seemed to ignore their own pregnant condition completely when they came in and squealed over the arrival of their adopted sister. They wanted to show her the room they had prepared for her, oblivious of the fact that she had probably already seen it. Bobby wouldn’t find out until much later, but the twins were neither ignoring their own condition, nor what they had recognized instantly as Misty’s. They spent over an hour in the first official bedroom of the Dalton Bed and Breakfast with the first official customer.

They acted like nothing had changed, when they finally came out. Nothing was said to Bobby by any of the three. But the twins always seemed to have something important to do for the next three days, other than spend time with Misty. The exception was in the evenings. Each night, after supper, Misty performed two or three of the songs that would be on her new album and the twins sat with stars in their eyes as they were treated to a sneak preview. Mirriam was more sedate in her praise. Bobby said nothing.

Mirriam did a lot of chores that kept her away from the house during that time too. Misty was insatiable and made no attempt of any kind to hide the fact that Bobby slept with her every night. On the last night, after she sang the last song and put her guitar back in its case, she stood up and took Bobby’s hand, to pull him toward her room.

“Misty?” It was Mirriam’s voice that broke the silence.

Misty turned to look at her, still holding Bobby’s hand.

“You never told us what the name of your album will be.”

Misty smiled. “That last song was the title song.”

“First Love,” sighed Matilda. “It was so sad.”

“Maybe there will be a second love someday,” said Misty.

Then she took Bobby to bed for the last time.

It was only after Misty left that Mirriam spoke to Bobby.

“I knew I should have pried,” she said the next morning at breakfast. Only she and Bobby were there. The twins were already gone to work at Renee’s.

“Would it have done any good?” he asked carefully.

“I don’t understand that woman,” she said. “I would have married Joe in a minute. I even asked him to marry me three or four times.”

“I didn’t know that,” said Bobby.

“He wasn’t the kind of man to settle down,” said his mother. “I knew that, but I couldn’t resist him.”

“I wish he had married you,” said Bobby, reaching for her hand.

Her eyes cleared and narrowed. “Have any of ... them, “ she wasn’t specific, but he knew who she was talking about, “asked you to marry them?”

“No, Mamma,” he said softly. “It’s come up in conversation a few times, but not that seriously.”

“What is wrong with women these days?” she asked, her voice anxious.

“I guess women’s liberation has made them feel like they don’t have to have a man to make a go of things,” said Bobby.

“Not Jill,” said his mother. “She married Sal, of all people! Why wasn’t she interested in you?”

“Did Ted ever ask you or Prudence to marry him?” asked Bobby.

“That’s different!” she objected.

“Is it?” he asked.

“I didn’t love him that way,” moaned Mirriam.

“But you loved him in yes way,” said Bobby.

“Yes ... I still do, I suppose. Just not that way,” she sighed.

“That’s how they’ve all felt about me,” he said.

Erica made it almost ten days before she was so agitated that she couldn’t keep her attention on the classes she was teaching. Twice she found herself standing in front of the class, gazing off into nothing, thinking about one of her dreams.

Her dreams since losing her virginity had changed radically. Her conscious mind might not remember all the details of that wild and stormy night, but her subconscious could. It played back what had happened in her dreams, in vivid Technicolor.

She woke wet from those dreams. Twice she had to wake Will, because her fingers couldn’t bring her satisfaction. She had come very close to climbing on top of her brother, like he had described Christy doing.

Will knew her well. He had no such problem, because along with his education in darkroom procedures, Christy kept him almost completely satisfied. He was more relaxed and less angry than at any time since he could remember. He was willing to fulfil his childhood dream ... of having his penis in his beautiful sister, but he knew that Erica would end up feeling guilty if that happened. That and the fact that he was so satisfied, let him help her resist that. Christy had taught him how to use his fingers on her, while she sucked his dick, and he did that with Erica too, penetrating her and making her go stiff with the power of her orgasms.

But she knew there was an even better feeling. And she knew where that feeling was. It was only her stubbornness that kept her from calling Bobby for those ten days. That and the fact that she had Will.

Then Christy asked Will to spend the night with her again. That night Erica was almost crazy. She couldn’t sleep and couldn’t relax. She rubbed three times and was a wreck at school the next day.

She called Bobby as soon as she got home.

“I need to see you,” she said, when he came on the phone.

“When?” he asked.

“Right now,” she said, her voice tight with frustration.

“Be right there,” he said.

Will was at Christy’s. Erica was elated for her brother, in that sense. That he was learning a trade and would have something to fill his days made her almost weep with happiness. He had even been talking about having her take him to the VA in Wichita to look into prosthetics. She got the phone book and found the number. When Christy answered, she asked if it might be possible for Will to stay over again.

“That would not be a problem,” said Christy, humor in her voice.

“Thank you,” said Erica.

Erica’s mind was too jumbled up to be able to make any real assessment about what was happening to her. Life seemed to have been flashing by like a locomotive, while she stood three feet from the tracks. The wind of life’s passage had been swirling around her. Her new sexual urges were like a dust storm in which all she could see was what was right in front of her face. And what was right in front of her face was Bobby.

Had she been able to think about things calmly, she might have realized that she was deep in the midst of adolescent growth, even though she had technically been an adult for years. That adolescent rush forward is usually controlled, at least to some extent, by the conventions of society. While many teenagers “have sex,” there isn’t one of them who doesn’t know that they shouldn’t be “having sex.” It’s one of those things that’s built into the tangled structure of “dos” and “don’ts” that weaves through our society like threads in a tapestry.

For those reasons, Erica felt guilty about having sex. She felt guilty about having sex with her brother and she felt guilty for the insane need she had to feel Bobby’s stiff prick in her pussy. Added on top of that were restrictions that she had imposed on herself, about feminism and her desire to be independent of need for men in general.

But, as strong as societal values are, nature is much stronger. Society’s rules have been in play for some ten or fifteen thousand years. Mother Nature’s biological imperative has been around for millions of years. The only species who “beat” Mother Nature are the ones that went extinct.

In short, the war between society and nature was being waged and, in this particular battle in Erica Bradford’s body, society wasn’t doing well at all. Society was being beaten back by the efforts of Bobby Dalton.

Sweat was dripping from Bobby’s nose and chin. Erica had been frantic for the first forty minutes. Her orgasms, both from his prick and from his treatment of her nipples, had come like a row of dominos, falling in order until he had to stop to give her time to get some air into her lungs.

“You stopped,” she gasped, her eyes wild.

“You’re about to pass out,” he pointed out.

“You ... let ... me ... worry ... about ... that,” she panted.

On top like this, he couldn’t get to her nipples and stay fully inserted all the way. So he rolled them over and sat her up, letting her lean forward into his hands while they worked on her breasts.

She belly danced through three more orgasms before he started squeezing her nipples and keeping them squeezed, only letting off the pressure just long enough for them to fill with blood again, occasionally. To be honest, Bobby was enjoying his first opportunity to see how much a woman could actually take. Finally, he saw her eyes roll up in her head and felt her go limp, and let her fall forward to flop onto his chest.