Chapter 15

Frankie only stayed three days. She said she had a job that she'd taken on contract before she knew I was back, and she had to go do it. I suggested I needed the rest, and she smiled happily, patting her tummy. I actually got hard in my pants. That's what she did to me.

"Call your sister!" she yelled as she got in her rental to go back to the airport.

"I will," I said.

"She's the only one that will talk to you right now," she yelled.

"Why?"

"Because you didn't call any of us when you got back, Dufus."

She waved and drove away. I turned to find Jake standing there, staring after the dust trail spinning tires had left.

"There are more?" he asked.

"Four more," I said. "Including my sister."

"Are they all like her?"

"Nah. They're all different."

"Any of them gonna show up?"

I looked at him. There had been a hint of longing in his voice.

"I doubt it," I said. "They're all mad at me."

"Because you didn't call them when you got back to the states?"

"Yeah," I sighed.

"Well ... I better get this place spruced up a bit, then," he said. "Wasn't ready fer visitors this time. Don't want that to happen again."

"I told you they were mad at me," I said.

He nodded, his face serious. "Yeah, you did say that. You didn't call Miss Frankie either ... did you."

I blinked. "No ... I guess I didn't."

"Well if that's what they're like when they're mad at you then you get me a pair of earmuffs before you come back home tomorrow. I pert near pulled my pud clean off listenin' to that woman bein' pissed off at you." He flashed a grin. "I don't 'spect I could survive if two of 'em was being mad at you at the same time."

Jake was to be disappointed. He did go on a cleaning and fixing up campaign, but we had no more visitors. September passed and October found me comfortable with my new station in life. November trickled away, and I made plans to go home for Thanksgiving. I'd have to fly coach, but that was okay. It was only a two hour flight.

I thought about taking Jake with me. We had gotten close over the months. He'd been very lonely before I arrived, and our temperaments were well suited to each other. He'd been a cowboy most his life, and he had that peculiar capability to sit still and be patient, without saying a word for hours. It came from a life of hunting as a means of supplementing the table, and an inner peace that dispelled the jitters most city folk suffer from. But when I offered, he turned me down.

"I'll just stay here and take care of the place while you're gone," he said.

"But there will be people, and food," I said.

"Frankie be there?" he asked, with a twinkle in his eye.

"Maybe," I said.

"Well, you tell her I miss flirtin' with her," he said.

And that was that.

My dad picked me up at the regional airport that served Brazelton. He had lots of questions about the Marine Corps, and Australia, and what I was doing in California. It was a thirty minute ride and it wasn't even close to being long enough. It went by in a flash.

Mom was waiting inside the door, fairly jumping up and down with eagerness. Her hug was accompanied by sobbing and I reminded her that I said I'd be fine.

"I know," she sniffled. "I'm a mother. I'm entitled."

She scurried off to go back to the kitchen ... and there was Phee, standing in the entryway to the living room, leaning against one side of the archway.

Her hair was longer, and fuller. It looked rich, and I wanted to run my hands through it. Like Frankie, she had filled out a little. It wasn't fat. There was just more of her. She looked older, even more beautiful than I remembered. She was wearing a dress, which was something I'd seen her do only a few times as we were growing up. She was also barefoot, and her toenails were painted.

"Frankie says the ranch is beautiful," she said.

"I missed you," I responded.

"Couldn't tell by the number of letters and phone calls I got," she said.

"I missed you," I said again.

"Well, at least we did that together."

Frankie's words came back to me. I felt a yearning deep inside me as I looked at her.

"I still miss you," I said.

"Well, Frankie may be footloose and fancy free," she said, "but the rest of us still have things to get done before we can play with boys again. I can't just run off to California on a whim like Frankie can." Her voice had some sulk in it. "Frankie said she had a good time, by the way."

"Did she?" I could hear a fishing expedition when I heard one. Especially if it was my sister doing the fishing.

"She wouldn't say much about it, except that you were fine, and looked good, and that this Jake person is a darling who can cook as good as Mom."

"I invited Jake to come with me, but he turned me down," I said.

She didn't say anything.

"You okay?" I asked.

"No," she said softly.

"Why? What's wrong?"

She looked at her watch. "Thanksgiving dinner is in an hour ... and an hour isn't long enough. Besides ... they'd miss us and come looking for you."

"I thought you were mad at me."

"I am," she said.

I laughed and she frowned.

"Don't take it personally," I said. "It's just something Jake said before I left."

My mother had turned my room into her sewing room. All my stuff was packed up in the attic. I was helping her mash the potatoes, and she was explaining the accommodations for my stay.

"Your father got one of those futon beds and put it in Phee's room. She said she didn't mind, and that it would give the two of you a chance to talk into the night and get caught up on things."

I was drinking a glass of milk at the time she said that. I'm glad it was milk instead of something carbonated. Milk feels much better being blown through the nose.

Once we got me cleaned up, she still looked concerned.

"We can move the futon to the living room if you like. I forgot you're all grown up, and a man of the world now. I guess I still think of you as my little boy. I should know you need your privacy, now."

"It's not that," I said. "I was just surprised Phee would agree to it."

"She loves you," said my mother, looking very serious. "She loves you very much. And I think she misses having a stable male influence her own age in her life. She goes on dates, but never with the same man more than once. Every time we talk, she asks about you. You don't write to her enough."

"I'm getting my internet when I get back," I said. "They had to run a cable out to my house, and it took some time. I'll email her from now on."

"And call her sometimes," said Mom. "Personally, I think she compares all those men to you, and finds them lacking."

I bit my tongue to keep from giggling.

I was lying on the futon in my boxers. Phee had pointed to it and said, "You lie there for now." She had then stripped, right in front of me, and put on the same pair of flannel PJs she had worn in high school. She got in bed and plumped the pillow under her armpit, with her head resting on her hand.

"Now we talk," she said.

"Look," I said. "I'm sorry I didn't write or call as much as you wanted me to."

"I know," she said. "Tell me about the ranch."

"What?"

"And tell me about Jake. Frankie obviously thinks he's wonderful."

I thought maybe she was punishing me. There wasn't anything to do but let things run their course. If she got it out of her system, then maybe we could move forward. And yes, pervert that I still was, I wanted to move forward naked. So I told her how I found the ranch, and about that first conversation with Jake. Then I told her what he was like, and how as far as I was concerned, he'd live on the ranch until he died.

"Frankie said there's a big, red barn?"

My heart sank. She showed no signs of interest in anything except the mundane.

I was in the middle of a disinterested description of the big, red barn when the door to her room swung open and Mom walked in like she owned the place. Come to think of it, I guess she did own the place. She had a tray of milk and cookies for us.

"You two getting caught up?" she asked happily.

"We're getting started," said Phee.

"Good. Stay up as late as you like. We're all sleeping in tomorrow. Do either of you need anything else?"

"I think we have everything we need," said Phee. "Thanks, Mom."

"That's what mothers are for," said Mom, happily. I watched her go out of the door and close it firmly behind her. When I turned around Phee already had her top off. She kicked the covers down and shimmied out of her bottoms.

"I knew she'd come in here to see how we were doing," she said. "I didn't think she'd see the humor in it if my hulking big brother had me pinned to my bed, with his nasty penis way up inside me."

"Damn, Phee," I whispered, as she lay back and reached for me, opening her knees to display a clearly wet and slippery bald pussy.

"Get up here, you bastard," she panted. "I haven't had any loving in four long years."

It was like Frankie all over again, except a lot more quiet. And this girl had bigger, softer breasts, and fleshier thighs. And this girl whimpered "Oh Tut, I missed you so much," over and over again. I was toast within minutes. I was lucky because she was toast even sooner, and I felt the familiar tension in her body that announced what was happening to her, and heard the soft whine of ecstasy that she always did as she came.

It was almost like the very first time ... except I lasted a minute fifty, instead of only fifteen seconds, before I spewed my taboo spunk into my sister's belly.

Now I've been around. I'm writing this story from the perspective of decades of experience. So I'm fully aware of how completely unconventional the relationship I had with Phee and her friends was.

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