A small orgasm popped deep inside me and I moved away from the greasy toe, relieved that it was over. I'd had enough for one day. Aunt Liz titillated her clit for a moment or so and then her loins pushed forward abruptly and she, too, was done. “This chicken really is delicious,” she said conversationally, brandishing a leg. “Isn't it marvelous how hungry the great outdoors makes you?”
“The exercise has a lot to do with it, Aunt,” Bob said gravely. “That's what gets your blood and adrenalin pumping and that's what consumes the calories.”
“You can tell he goes to school, can't you?” grinned Aunt Liz. “What are you studying to be anyway, Bob, a sexual therapist?”
“No, a doctor,” he replied.
“What a pity,” she sighed. “The world needs another doctor like it needs another variety of poisonous snake. But a sexual witchdoctor, now that would be a real asset, wouldn't it?”
“Perhaps I can combine both careers.”
“Now that's creative thinking.” We toasted Bob's creativity and drank deep of the wine. The conversation turned to other matters, idle chatter mainly. We ate and drank, slept while the intake was digested, and then went swimming again. Late in the afternoon Aunt Liz told us we really had to be getting on home, and we dressed reluctantly. She drove us back and dropped us off at the sidewalk in front of our house, leaving us with another big, wet kiss.
“Why couldn't she have married Dad?” Bob thought out loud. “Our lives would have been completely different with her running the show, don't you think?”
“Who knows,” I shrugged. “We might have found ourselves in precisely the same position.”
“Maybe you're right.”
We entered the house with heavy hearts. The moment we came through the front door we felt all the restrictions, rules, and inhibitions that we'd been so well rid of all that day.
CHAPTER FOUR
It was still early enough to make love just once before the others started to come home. But just as we began our dash up the driveway, Bob stopped me and pointed at a car parked nearby-it was the British sports car owned by Nora's friend.
“That's too bad,” I said. “We'll have to find another time to do it-but what about Nora, is she screwing that guy?”
“I don't know if she screws at all,” Bob said. We sauntered up the long driveway and peeked through the living room window first to see if anything was happening. Nora and her beau were on the couch engaged in hot debate. She sat at one end and he sat at the other, and it didn't look to either of us as though they'd behaved differently, before we came home.
“How come you don't know?” I asked as we made our way to the front door. “Isn't this a closely knit family?”
“No need to be satirical,” said Bob. “Nora just gives me the impression of not knowing what it's all about. I think she takes after Mum somehow.”
“Oh dear,” I said, shaking my head. “How awful for her.”
We strolled in to the living room just in time to hear Nora say to her friend: “As far as I'm concerned, celibacy is the thing. I mean, the women's movement has gone through the whole hetero trip and then they tried the lesbian bit and it just doesn't work. Sex stands between women and liberation. As it stands we have no choice but to swear off sex altogether and develop ourselves on a different plane!”
Her friend, who was introduced later as Harold, seemed to be in agreement with her. He was tall, wore his hair pulled back in a pony tail and had on rimless glasses. Like Nora he wore army surplus clothing, a khaki shirt and jungle warfare pants. Unlike Nora he looked horrible in them. She looked like a sex symbol incognito, sort of disguising herself so the public won't know her yet keeping enough charisma in view to draw a lot of stares. And Nora, in spite of her formless shirt and baggy pants, couldn't help those sudden protuberances, was unaware of the few undone buttons in her shirt that revealed the rise and swell of her tits. Her long neck sloped away into delicate shoulders, just visible through the open collar. And Harold was only too aware of her beauty, we could see that right away. Though he agreed with her on all points his eyes kept straying down into the recesses of her shirt for visual caresses. At one point she stood up to pace up and down in front of him and his head moved as though he was watching a tennis match. Nora wore no underwear and her baggy trousers didn't confine the natural, erotic motion of her buttocks in the slightest. With every quiver of her flesh, every roll of her cheeks, Harold sank deeper into the couch.
“Once celibacy is an established principle,” said Nora, pointing up into the air for emphasis, “men and women will be forced to regard each other as human beings. There will be no alternative! As it is, sex interferes with human communication. Men and women pretend to be addressing each other's mind, but what do they really do? It's all sex talk ultimately, boil down any philosophical or anthropological or theological discussion between opposing sexes and it's just sex talk, I don't care what anyone says. You know it's true, Harold, haven't we-” She stopped in mid-sentence, aware of having an audience. “Oh, hi Kathy, Bob, did you have a nice swim?”
“Yes, thanks, but don't stop talking just because we're here, keep going, it sounds very interesting,” I said.
“Well, Harold and I have just come from a demonstration for equal rights and we were just talking about that. I'm sure it wouldn't interest either of you for long.”
Nora lit a cigarette to hide her blush. Obviously this was a touchy subject with her. Harold was more than willing to explain the theories of the movement, and actually started to do so till she cut him off. Bob and I went upstairs into his room. An hour remained to us before Dad would come home. An hour in which to further explore the new world that had opened up to her.
“Let's leave the door open,” Bob suggested. “That way Dad won't get suspicious if he happens to come by before we expect him to.”
“Alright…” I said hesitantly, “but won't that cramp your style a little?”
“I've got it all worked out,” he grinned. “Change into a dress, that little mini-dress you've got, and don't wear anything underneath it. In the meantime I'll put on my zip-up shorts. You'll see, it'll work out fine.”
I hurried to do his bidding, my curiosity more aroused than my body. How could Bob hope to get away with anything in this house? I ran a comb through my hair once I had the dress on to make myself look as decent as possible, and as I inspected myself in front of the full-length mirror I remembered something from a year ago… I'd worn the same dress not long before The Incident, and Dad had seen me come down the stairs in it. His severe sergeant major's mien slipped momentarily as a smile softened his features, and he said: “You look pretty as a picture, Kathy, a real little lady. Why don't you wear that dress more often?” Straight after that he resumed his normal expression. At the time it had seemed odd to me but I shrugged it off. Now, however, it took on a strange significance- too strange for me to figure it out.
Bob was waiting for me by the window. It looked out over the driveway, thus giving us an early-warning system. A box seat had been built under the window sill, filling in the niche, and pillows lined it from end to end. Bob had positioned himself with his back against the wall, his legs pulled up to make room for me at the other end of the seat. I smiled coyly on taking up my position. That mini-dress only covered my vital parts as long as I stood up straight and didn't breathe. Sitting casually opposite Bob showed him all, and I could see the pleasure I gave him in his eyes.