One thing Yancey knew about Uncle Roy:
That boy had either good taste or good judgment or both.
With respect to both the selection of the artifacts in. Uncle Roy's collection and the women he kept on premises.
Yancey removed the objects from the table and returned them to their indexed slots in among the rows of glass-fronted case-stalls aligning the walls and most of the room's interior.
He pulled, out a painted clay whistle molded in the shape of a cock-and-balls assemblage.
Fondled a tube for suction that protruded from the flews of a cunt shaped jug.
Drove his eyes through a crack in the doorway in response to shifting rays of light from the other side. The door creaked open a bit wider of its own accord or from a draft.
Or perhapsYancey gasped.
Saw Little Ramona's ass.
The flash of Sallie Anne's tits.
In the mirror of the cabana in which the two women were now showering and changing. And something else was disarranging the shadows.
Yancey pulled a disappointed jaded mirthless-as-a-skull droll smile.
The stud Lafayette had been in there all the while, probably.
Had waited for the girls.
Or had they invited him in to begin with?
"If it's any of my biz," Little Ramona chirruped, "I'd like to know what you are doing in here, Lafayette. This is the girls' room."
Little Ramona shook her ass past the hissing shower stall and ducked into the mist. She grinned as Sallie Anne's wet boobs loomed in the watery just about even with the level of her face.
They embraced.
"Skedaddle, Lafayette," Sallie Anne prattled. "We're cleaning up now. "
"Sallie Anne, the boys be asking about those chippies was supposed to show up for their pleasure down at them little houses-"
"I gave the girls the numbers of the bungalows. They should be there presently-"
"But if they don't-"
"We'll face those boners if and when they come about. Now hustle out _ "
Sallie Anne slid a bit sideways and her nipple lugged into Little Ramona's eyesocket. Her boob-cage encased Little Ramona's face.
"You two sisters?" Lafayette said, festering in his seat on one of the benches. "You related to Sadie Mae? And that means to Uncle Roy too?"
Titters from the shower.
"Out, boy."
Blasts of steam vapor cascaded through the air enveloping the girls from ankles to headhair. It was hard for Lafayette to make out what they might be doing in there.
Bathing serenely together in the cloud of steam. "Screwy," he blistered to himself.
Blew out: "Chicks do all that stuff with each other all the time and think nothing of it. Just set down a chunk of hung cockflesh and a sack of marbles beside them and they get all ga-ga and go for it in their heads they want to marry you-instead of goodtime fucking and sucking."
Lafayette did not know that much about this town. But he had been assured early in his life that his mom had once been the wife of the famous and rich and purportedly larcenist adventurer and explorer Uncle LeRoy LaRue.
Now how did that go?
The bloodlines were confusing as sin and as thick or thin as you liked.
He hiked his leather leggings out of his boots. Stripped the pantlegs open with the zippers running up the sides.
Frigged open his leather vest. Lafayette stood naked as rawhide except for his knee-high boots and studded vest.
If these fillies were also somehow sired by Uncle Roy via one of his official or unofficial wives or were otherwise kissing cousins to Lafayette: Why, Lafayette had every right to want to smooch them good night.
"The fuck out of here, dear," it was Little Ramona who peeped Wearily. "But before you go, Lafayette you might as well make yourself useful to us in some way. Get us the soap-"
"Okay."
"Over in the tray in the shower stall by the wall near the-"
"I'm there already."
Steadily, Lafayette stroked the bar of soap along his sturdy cock.
Got the head especially all frothed and lathery. Worked up a veritable cloudbank about his nuggets. Stuck the soap into his blowhole.
"Hurry the fuck up, cocksuck. What are you- jerking yourself off?"
"Not by a longshot."
Lafayette jerked his nipples crisply and walked into the misted shower stall.
"Big fucking deal," Little Ramona squealed. "So I bet you're nude too."
"Where's the suds," Sallie Anne chewed.
"Down here holding it," Lafayette chittered biting his lower lip.
Sallie Anne reached for it.
"Eeeeek!"
Her fist squeaked on over the head of Lafayette's soaped-up hard-on.
"This," Little Ramona emitted in a high-pitched bitch-is-pissed bark, "is where this girl bails out. How about it, Sallie Anne?"
Sallie Anne ran her hand along Lafayette's soaped-up twanger. He took a half step forward and automatically banged her.
"Unh."
Greased up prick slipped neatly between Sallie Anne's inner and outer labia.
Sprouted into her cuntfolds.
Sallie Anne's cuntlips took hold.
"Hurts," Sallie Anne slathered. "It's the soap on your dick, you idiot!"
"Got it in quick."
"And you'll get it out quicker."
Little Ramona wrapped herself in a torn towel as she witnessed her sister Sallie Anne kick off with cocked heel directly into Lafayette's ballocks. Smiled as he howled.
"Aiiiiinh!"
Ramona saw through the cleft in the doorjamb Yancey in the storeroom at a table examining some of Uncle Roy's erotic statuary and body decorations. Casually ramming one of his hands down below the tabletop.
She heard a jingle and saw his pants drop from his knees underneath the table. Then Ramona reached into a locker and pulled out a loaded gun.
Snicked the firing pin hoping the sound was covered by the liquid hiss of the shower.
She ran the magazine around two clicks to examine the chambers of the brand-new copy of the vintage Colt.45 single-action army revolver with filed hair trigger to enable the gunner to fan from one side of the street or the room to the other or, as preferences or situations dictated, to fire repeatedly-directly and more leanly than an automatic machine-pistol-at, for example, someone's chest. Uncle Roy used only the best.
Little Ramona tested the heft of the gat against her breasts.
Assumed a posture of indifference beneath a loosely slung blouse and flouncy skirt. Skirted her eyes toward the misty shower stall.
Waltzed through the door.
"Listen, Lafayette," Sallie Anne said, moving back a fraction. "That stinger of yours really stings inside me."
"You better get the soap of."
"Jack you off? Ha! If I could only find it you might have a chance."
"Find this?"
He stuck his dick into her fist. Sallie Anne opened her mouth and deliriously sucked shower water as she shook Lafayette's rod.
Jerked the soap off.
Rubbed down dingdong.
Took it sideways inside her.
Cunthide searing with soaking pecker sunk in past the neck.
"Ek."
Lafayette layered his nuts over the insides of Sallie Anne's thighs as he rutted upward and onward in growing heat.
"Yes."
Sallie Anne heat upon Lafayette's back with warped fist.
She twisted her clawlike fingernails over his deltoids and lats, Lafayette's muscles flattening and stretching and bulging sinuously along his shoulders and back, Sallie Anne dropped her digits to his asscrack.
He pulsed back.
"Unh."
Impaled his pucker on her thumb.
"Ahajah!"
Lafayette opened his yawp like a garish phantasm of orgasm.
His mind glazed with the errant thought that this hot twat. might well be his bitchin cousin. Kissing cousin.