Chapter 38

The diner was just about a half block up the street, but we exited the tenement on the opposite side. That got my attention, and I chalked it up to paranoia, and make-believe security. Othneal walked in like he owned the restaurant, and the way the staff greeted him, he might have. We were left to sit anywhere we wished, and Othneal directed Angela and me to sit with him at a table in the middle of the room.

The place was not what we thought it was. My first impression was of a shabby diner, tucked away in the neighborhood, and just barely hanging on. When I got a good look around, I realized it was decorated to look like that, which made it a magnet for people pretending to be whatever they were not. It was a reflection of the phonies that made it their habit to dine there, and that told me something important about Othneal.

He was just as he was billed by The Judge.

O.T., as he insisted we call him before our cold drinks hit the table, claimed to come from San Francisco, and was the son of a college professor, and a surgeon, both of whom lived for the money they accumulated. When Othneal talked about his father, he did so with something like respect, tinged with sadness. When he mentioned his mother, he did so as if it was a terrible burden.

Over lunch he regaled us with stories of growing up in the midst of an academic hot house, where everything except another view point was on the table. When it came to politics, and the politics of science, his parents were 'the most blind, bigoted, and boring people he ever knew'.

"My father would come home from the uni, and start babbling about global warming, the war in Iraq, and those evil southern and mid-westerners, who breathed through their mouths, and slept with their sisters. It got so I could give the speech for him, and one day I realized it was all about his bigotry, not their bigotry.

"I tried to talk to my mother about it, but she was so outraged, she sent me off to live with her sister on a farm in Oklahoma to, as she put it, 'let them beat some sense into me.' It didn't work. I loved my Aunt and their place out in the country, and the summer I spent with her wasn't disturbing at all, except for having to go back to bigots-ville, California in the fall."

Othneal might have been telling the truth, but he might have been gilding the lilly to see if our defenses would come down. Neither of us took the bait, but we did make sure we listened politely, and said very little.

He couldn't help himself. He had to go on about the Aunt. "My mother's sister was a gem. She was much younger, in much better shape, and really a lot of fun. We spent hours and hours lying on our backs, pretending to find shapes in the clouds, and making up stories about them. Sometimes she would sit with me until I fell asleep, and other nights she's pull the sheet over us both and cuddle up with me.

"My aunt was my first real close friend, and then my first lover. We were insatiable together, until the old man decided I was having too much fun being out from under his tight-assed thumb, and made me come home..." Othneal was far away, in that other place he'd constructed in his head.

"The first time for me, was one night when we decided to sit outside and see if we could see any falling stars. There was supposed to be a meteor shower between about two A.M. and five, so we took a blanket, and two pillows, along with some snacks and drinks, way out in the middle of nowhere to watch for them. My Aunt was only about thirty in those days. She was built for strength, big boned from hard work, but soft and loveable. We cuddled up under the blanket and waited for the star show.

"Sometime later my Aunt asked, 'Othneal, have you got a girlfriend, back in California, missing you while you're out here helping out your old, tired, Aunt?'

"I couldn't believe that she thought she was old, and told her how beautiful she was. That seemed to please her and we cuddled closer together, watching the sky. I loved feeling her boob against my arm as we cuddled. After a little while I felt her hand brush across my chest, outside of my shirt, and her soft touch made me quiver, just a little bit. We looked at each other and smiled, and she slipped her hand under my shirt and stroked my chest and stomach.

"There was no way I could not have an erection under those circumstances, and she eventually hit the top of it with her roaming fingers, and gasped. Instead of taking her hand away, she explored the size and width of my boner, and then casually undid my pants, threw back the blanket, and used both hands to bring me off.

"It was heaven, and I wanted to return the favor, so I gently pushed her onto her back, lifted up her shirt, and tried mightily to undo her bra, but eventually had to give it up, and let her do it for me, which allowed me to see and touch her breasts.

"They were my first. Her boobs were bigger than I suspected, and they sagged to either side because she was laying down. For just a moment, I wondered if this was what my mother's big boobs looked like naked, but then I got all wrapped up in Sally's, because they were real, they were naked, and they were right before my eyes.

"Sally loved to have her boobs played with, and made all kinds of noises to encourage me. When she got really wound up, she raised up, undid her jeans and took them and her panties off, reminding me to be gentle, and take my time.

"That's when I knew I wouldn't be a virgin for much longer.

"Sally gently showed me how to give her what she needed, and when she came, it scared me, because she was so loud and squirmy. When she finally relaxed, I discovered she wanted me to use my mouth on her as badly as I wanted to put my mouth down there, and that got us going all over again, as Sally taught me to please her orally.

"Eating Sally was like coming home from a long trip away. It just felt right, like I was the right boy, in the right place, doing the right things, and Sally was so grateful for all the right things that I was doing. Once I discovered her secrets, she gave it up at least ten times, before she said it was becoming too intense for her.

"Good as gold, Sally showed me how to make love, and I stayed at it until I came twice more, and just had to stop for little while. We were lovers night and day until my father forced me to come home. I'd still be with her and we'd still be in love, if they had just left us alone."

Othneal was way off in his own world, recounting his first time with his Aunt Sally, and Angela and I let him stay as long in the country of his memories as he needed.

After a while he kind of twitched, shook himself, and started to eat as if nothing at all had just happened.

Yep. He was psychotic, alright.

While waiting for him to return to the real world, I noticed Othneal had a very strange ring on the middle finger of his right hand. It looked positively lethal, if he were to use it in a fight. Then I realized that it was specifically to be used in a fight, to give him an advantage. The hook in the gold would tear your face up something terrible when he hit you. That meant Othneal had an ugly, vicious streak, which was a thing to remember for later.

There were things that were very appealing about him, but he set off my alarm bells, right and left. I'd have bet that his parents hired marital arts instructors to make sure their son could protect himself, and by the way he carried himself, I'd also have bet that he thought he was the best at his skill there ever was, which could be an advantage should the time come to test my theory.

"So you see, Joe, we are two of a kind. I loved my Aunt, and still do, and you love your sister. I get it. And you just got it, so we are both coming from the same place. Stick around, and see if we grow on you..." He cuffed me in the shoulder, smiled, and concentrated on his lunch.

Angela kept looking at me like I was Superman, and whenever she had one hand free, it always ended up in my lap, keeping me a bit on edge. I could tell that having an audience really turned her crank, and wondered how to use that to our advantage. Othneal obviously had a Jones for incest, and we were his fantasy come to life ... At least we were a fantasy come to life. If we were very careful, his guard would come down because we were giving him the only thing missing from his life, which was an incest outlet.

The Judge had talked about our supposed relationship, and pointed out to us both, that the Feds would never send an undercover in to have sex as part of the mission. It just wasn't how the federal branch worked. He reminded us that practicing incest was our best way to insure nobody even thought about us being anything other than love stuck siblings.

When we were back in the tenement I discovered that they had bypassed the city and turned the water on, hooked up hot water heaters, and had working washers and dryers. The power came from the power company, courtesy of some fancy rerouting and a bunch of electrical supplies. The City of Baltimore had thoughtfully provided everything, including sewer service, at no charge, just for the taking.

Angela wanted a shower, and I suspected we would be free to talk, albeit quietly, with running water all around us, so we took the iPad and phones with us, to get naked and clean. "O.T. is certainly fascinated with my bony, scrawny, body," Angela said, giggling. "If he were any more interested, he would have to be on top of me, and that's NOT going to happen. You have to promise me you won't let him do anything to me. Promise!" She punctuated her request by punching me in the chest.

"There is no way I'd ever let him. No way. He'll have to settle for the human penis receptacle, or his right hand, because he isn't getting a shot at you." I meant it, and intended to keep my promise.

"You will want to tell me how afraid you are of doing it with others, when we're in bed later," I said seriously. "There has to be someone listening to make sure we're not secret agents, or something, so the more open you are about wanting only to have sex with me, and wanting me only having sex with you, the better our cover story." Angela was a natural actress, and loved being on display, apparently, but spreading her legs for Othneal wasn't in the playbill.

We finished showering, and dried each other, leading to some very intimate bumping around, in the bathroom, which might have been overheard, outside. Angela looked properly embarrassed as we darted to our room, wearing only towels. Once inside, we collapsed on the bed and finished what we started, with Angela again on top. Because I was so much bigger than her, and because her body was so tiny, having her on top, and in charge, insured I didn't accidentally hurt her during lovemaking, and gave her control of depth, speed, and length of time. If she got tired, or sore, she could stop, drop onto my chest, and rest until she wanted to continue, or quit. I had that feeling of being watched, again, and wouldn't have been surprised if Othneal was outside the door, peering at us while we played.