Chapter 3

Paul was on his front deck grilling when they arrived. Dressed in a silly oversized apron and cargo shorts pulled up too high, he couldn't have looked more grandfatherly and sweet.

'Fraud!' thought Allie.

She saw the discreet grin he shot in her direction as he checked out her outfit, a much too revealing strapless sundress that'd she worn on the plane, and it was anything but sweet! She hadn't wanted to wear the stupid dress, but her dad had insisted she put on "real clothes" and she hadn't packed anything else.

"Come on in folks," he hollered warmly. "I was just getting started up. There's beer and soda in the cooler there, just help yourselves."

"Everything smells good," said Neil as he helped himself to a beer. "What're you cooking up there?"

Paul beamed like a proud papa. "Well, sir, I've got some pristine fresh Maine Lobsters, pulled 'em out of the traps myself this morning. Then I got some shrimp kabobs here. Oh, and I almost plain forgot, I've got a big long sausage to feed to Miss Allie!"

He wasn't being subtle, but her dad and Neil didn't notice.

"That's a lot of sausage for Allie," her dad said. "She eats like a bird most of the time."

Paul laughed. "Well, you never know. I'm always surprised how much sausage skinny little girls like her can handle!"

Allie wanted to groan out loud. Did he have to be so gross?

Eager to avoid any more conversation, Allie sank back and followed her brothers into the air conditioning. The boys had already staked out the couches where they sat silently pounding away at their video games. That was fine. Allie didn't want to talk either.

Instead, she peaked around Paul's cabin. The place was huge! Nice, too. It almost seemed wrong to call it a cabin. her Uncle Neil's piece-of-shit wooden box was a cabin; this place was nice by house-standards. It stretched up three stories that Allie could see, with a big open atrium in the center. The windows were big and bright, and they had a bar and pool table on the main floor. If Davy Crocket built a mansion, this is what it would look like.

"Not bad, eh?"

Allie turned to find a pretty woman, maybe 30 or 35, coming down the stair case to her right. She recognized her as the woman from the beach, Paul's daughter.

"Yeah," said Allie, trying not to sound so awkward. "It's gorgeous."

"Dad built it himself. I think it was just a tiny shotgun shack when he started, but he just keeps adding on." The woman shook her head, baffled by her father's commitment. "I'm Karen, by the way. Paul's daughter. You must be Allie?"

"Um, yes. That's me." She reminded herself to be less awkward.

"Dad's told me all about you," said Karen. Allie froze. "He has?"

"Well, not a lot," she said. "Just that you don't like lobster."

Allie exhaled. Of course. She hadn't really expected him to tell his freakin' daughter about the other stuff. No reason to panic.

"I'm just allergic," Allie explained. "To the lobster."

"Which just means more for the rest of us," boomed Paul as he wandered in behind them. He was only passing by en route to the 'fridge, he didn't even stop walking, but the sound of his voice made her jump.

Karen smiled. "Sun's starting to set," she said. "Shall we join the grown ups?"

Allie smiled and followed her outside. There wasn't much sense trying to make excuses, she'd have to be near him eventually, and it was nice to finally have another girl around, even if it was Paul's daughter.

On the porch, Paul introduced Karen around. For Allie the conversation was rather mundane and boring, but she did pick up that Karen's ex had picked up their boys earlier in the day for a two week canoe and camping trip somewhere in the hinterlands. Then it turned out that Karten and Allie's dad were both high school history teachers with the same annoying fetish for the Italian Renaissance. Once that was out there, the two of them started going back and forth about things the others had never heard of, and they may as well have been on a whole different porch.

"A match made in nerd heaven," Neil whispered to Allie, and she actually laughed. She hated that dad was hitting it off with Paul's daughter, of all people, but it was nice to see him talking to women at all. He hadn't gotten out much since mom died five years earlier.

"So, are you having fun up here, Allie?" Paul asked. He was trying to sound like an old man making disinterested small talk, which was shrewd. Allie'd seem rude if she didn't go along with it.

"Um, sure," she muttered.

"She's been a bit under the weather, haven't you, Al?" said Neil, interjecting. "She won't come down to the beach with us!"

"Probably smart," Paul said as he shifted lobster tails around the grill. "The beach down there is going to hell. Too many juvenile delinquents and loose women running around. I don't even feel safe using those showers anymore."

"Yeah," said Neil, confused. Old people always thought things were deteriorating, so he didn't get into it.

Paul wasn't giving up. "So are you an athlete back home, Allie?"

"No, not me," she said.

"Really? But you're so athletic looking. You should try baseball. I bet you could really handle a bat."

"Girls play softball," said Neil.

Paul laughed. "You're right. That never made sense to me, though. Why do girls need a softer ball? I bet Allie here could handle a hard one just fine!"

That was almost too absurd to get past Neil, and Allie cringed, but her uncle was unfazed. "This one's a bit of a bookworm," he said. "Straight A's in honors classes. Right kiddo?"

Allie breathed a sigh. Thank God her uncle was so obtuse! "Not quite," she said. Some of them were Bs is what she meant, and she would've explained that if she wasn't refusing to say more than she had to.

"An academic!" said Paul. "Then you're probably excited about the meteor shower tonight? I can't wait myself." He started pulling lobsters off the grill and laying them on the serving tray.

"There's a meteor shower tonight?" asked Neil. Allie knew he didn't actually care.

"Surely your niece told you," said Paul, acting shocked. "It's a once in a lifetime occurrence. Massive rock formations. Isn't that right, Allie?"

Allie couldn't figure his angle, and didn't know how to respond. "Um, yeah," she managed. Truthfully she hadn't heard anything about meteors tonight either, and probably wouldn't have cared if she had. Being good at school didn't automatically make her a science geek, but old people always thought it did.

"Well," said Paul, "we need to get you away from these philistines for a thing like that, my dear. How would you like to use my telescope later on? I've got it up on an observation deck. You won't beat the view!"

Allie cursed herself. The old bastard had left a trap and she'd walked right into it. "Oh, I couldn't impose," she said.

"Nonsense," said Paul. "I insist! It'll be good to have a fellow astronomy-buff to catch the show with."

"Thanks for the offer," Neil said. "I'm sure she'd love to."

"Excellent!" he boomed, as he walked away with the dinner tray to the inside table.

"But I don't want to use his stupid telescope," Allie snapped out of Paul's earshot.

"Be nice," Neil said. "He's a lonely old man who needs the company. He won't bite."

Allie wasn't so sure about that, but she couldn't exactly explain that to Neil. Before she could even contemplate a real excuse, he'd brushed her off and walked inside.

Paul probably didn't care about the stars. He might not even have a stupid telescope. She shivered as she looked out over the distant water. Whatever he was plotting, she knew it wouldn't be good. She wanted to run far, far away. It took every bit of willpower she had to even follow the others back inside.

They'd all taken seats around the big oak table before she came inside. The boys were clustered at one end with Neil playing chaperone. Dad and Karen, still locked in droning horrible conversation, were perched in the middle, leaving only the empty seat on the end ... next to Paul. Allie almost threw up.

"Saved you a seat, fellow astronomer!" he beamed. At the other end, Neil chuckled quietly.

"Thanks," she said, but she hoped Paul got that she totally did not mean it.

The thick sausage was already waiting on her plate. Looking at it made her gag. She wondered if he'd done something to it, too, like rubbing it on his balls or, you know, cumming on it. He would do that sort of thing, she was sure of it!

"So is mine the biggest you've ever had?" he asked softly. "My sausage, I mean."

"Size isn't everything," she said sourly. "It looks old and rotten. I don't think I want to eat it."

Somehow that didn't even faze her dad, who kept babbling on to Karen about Pope Leo something or other.

"We'll see," said Paul. "You seem hungry, and nothing satisfies a girl like you than a big, thick sausage."

"I've always thought about being a vegetarian," she said. For emphasis she shoved a thick leaf of spinach in her mouth and glared at him. "Mmmm," she said. "Delicious. Maybe I'll never eat meat again!"

Paul chuckled at the show. "Be careful," he said. "If you don't eat your meat, your meat might decide to eat you. Or," he leaned in close to whisper, "maybe your meat'll decide it's time to stop playing games and finally just fuck your stupid cunt." He pulled away smiling big, as Allie's eyes shot open wide and terrified.

Before she'd even taken a breath, Paul was on his feet. "I'd like to propose a toast," he said. The others turned to look, glasses raised as he continued. "To good friends, good food, and a wonderful evening ahead!"

The other adults raised a chorus of cheers, as Allie felt a knot tightening in her stomach. Paul meant it, she realized. He was going to fuck her ... to rape her. She knew she should say something, to find a way to not get trapped on the porch with him and his telescope.

Of course, she thought, they probably wouldn't do anything if she did say something. And she wasn't totally sure he'd really do it. She told herself to relax and not overreact. Paul was just a pervy old man, he wasn't an actual rapist. This was just his weird way of fli...

Under the table, he squeezed her thigh. It wasn't a quick squeeze either; he let hand rest there, way up past the hem of her dress. The others kept talking, totally oblivious. Without hesitating he slid up further, slipping swiftly beneath her panties and brushing against her shaved pussy lips.

Was he really molesting her with her father and Karen sitting right there, inches away? She tried to cross her legs, but his hand was already burrowed too tightly and she couldn't force it away without causing a scene. So she gritted her teeth and glared at him.

He pushed a finger into her vagina, just like he had earlier on Neil's deck. Allie blushed remembering how he'd mocked her then for being so wet; she was just as moist now, and he'd barely touched her. It was like her pussy was craving it!

"Stop," she whispered. "Not now."

"Just a taste," he whispered back. He recoiled his hand to seemingly tickle her lips, and every so gingerly ran a thumb over her clit.

Allie's pulse quickened and her breathing got faster. "Please," she begged. "You can't do this here!"

He grinned and continued to finger her teenage cunt. "Eat your sausage," he said. "Take a big bite."

This was all just some sick game to him, she thought furiously. She could have screamed, or grabbed his wrist. There was no way the others could defend him if they caught him with his hand up her skirt. They'd call the cops and she'd be free of him!

But she didn't. She didn't say a word as the gross old man continued to play with her teenage pussy. Emboldened, he slipped a second finger into her too-tight sheath.

As much as she hated herself for thinking it, it was undeniable: she kind of liked being fingered like that. It wasn't physical; what he was doing felt good, but the angle was awkward, and there was no way he'd ever make her cum like this. There was just something about the brazen way he did it, without stopping to even consider the consequences or the fact that she was a fraction of his age. She wasn't letting him touch her, he was just doing it.

"Oh, my God!" shouted Karen, and for a split second Allie thought their perversions had been spotted. Paul quickly pulled his hand away.

Thankfully no one had actually seen anything. Karen had simply managed to knock a bottle of red wine off the table and all over Allie's dad. The poor guy was covered, but they were both laughing hysterically. Obviously, that wasn't the first bottle they'd opened!

"I'm soooo sorry," slurred Karen. "I'm such a klutz sometimes!" "It's really ok," said Allie's dad. "Red's my color!"

Both of them laughed. Neil rolled his eyes. Allie was just grateful for the distraction.

"That's probably our cue to leave anyway," said Neil. "These guys down here are getting kind of restless."

Allie smiled. Saved by a wine spill! Paul hadn't thought of everything.

"Already?" said Paul. "But the meteor shower isn't for another two hours."

Neil sighed. "We would," he said. "But, you know, the little guys just don't have that sort of patience."

"I'm sorry," said Allie's dad, looking exclusively at Karen. "I'll have to tell you about the Digon Museum next time. If there is, I mean, if you'll still be up here."

"Of course I will be," Karen smiled. Allie almost swooned, despite the awkward circumstances. The pair of them were so cute.