Aunt Jean, Ron, and...

Joe looked down at Ann's golden hair. He half smiled. It seemed she was talking to his dick, not to him. Actually, she probably was. He really did care about her. He wished she'd lose this rough sex fetish, and fall in love with some nice college guy. And... stop tempting him. Maybe if he could conjure up enough guts, or willpower, or whatever tomorrow morning, he'd tell her so, then tell her these periodic trysts were over.

Would he really do that? His prick didn't think so at the moment, in fact if it could, it would probably be laughing at him right now. Was he fully back to being himself again? Not giving a damn about anything? Just going with the flow? Or... was he grasping at any straw, at Ann, at this situation, in order to take his mind off Lisa and feeling the foolish love that seemed to still fill his heart?

Joe felt Ann take the head into her mouth and suck it gently. He stopped asking himself questions.

Ann's lips curved slightly as his cock began slowly growing. Her wet tongue swirled around the expanding helmet.

*

Ted put another spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. He savored it. He was glad they spoke about the ties a few minutes ago. Ky had said she wanted to do it again because they were home, because of the past memories, and yes, she liked it because she thought it was hot, but she told him she wasn't becoming and hadn't been any bondage freak.

That was the term he had used asking her about it. She had then asked him if he had liked it, and he had to admit he had, then she asked him if he was becoming a bondage freak, and that whole Gee I don't know, are you sure, Ky? was just an act. He had laughed and said it wasn't an act.

Kyli's head nudge his to the side again. He pulled his spoon from his mouth. Every time she took a spoonful from the round carton of Ben 'n' Jerry's she was holding on his stomach, her head pushed his jaw. He felt another drip hit the hair of his abdomen. He chuckled.

"What?" Kyli put the spoon in her mouth and lay the back of her head back against his shoulder.

"Why don't you hold the container on your stomach for a while, and I'll lay on you. It's probably frost biting a circle on my skin there."

"No. I'm comfortable this way."

He chuckled again. "You're dripping on me every time you take some."

Kyli smiled. "So? We're going to shower before we go to sleep."

"You're going to lick that off me before we shower."

"Mmmm..." She took another spoonful. "I don't know about that. You're so hairy there."

"I though you said you liked my chest and abs hairy."

"I do, I'm just now sure I like licking hair all that much."

"I lick your hair."

"What hair..." Kyli blinked and smiled. "Oh..." She giggled softly. "I guess you do. I think you have more on your stomach than I do down there."

Ted smiled, took another spoonful, ate most of it, then stretched his arm and turned the spoon over right above Ky's pussy. A small glop hit her sparsely haired muff.

Kyli flinched. "Ted!" She tried to wipe it off but just smeared it. "You ass."

He laughed softly, "You lick your drips off me, and I'll do the same for you."

She wiped her fingers on his abdomen, then another smile started forming on her lips. She took another spoonful out of the container, still not really aware of her head pushing Ted's jaw. "Mmmm... okay, I'll agree to that." She pulled her spoon from her mouth and shook it over his flaccid penis.

Ted grinned, stuck the spoon in his mouth, then dipped a few fingers in the container, pulled them out coated in softened Ben 'n' Jerry's. His other arm around her shoulders held her tighter.

Kyli stiffened and her eyes grew. "Ted... don't you dare... TED!" She tried to push his arm away but he was too strong. She jerked when the cold hit her breast. "TED! YOU CRASS ASS!"

Ted laughed, then growled, "God... I love your tits."

"Shut up and... stop it." She tried to pull and push his hand away to no avail. She exhaled. "Ted."

He watched his hand smear around her feminine, pliant mounds. He did love her tits. He loved every inch of her. In the back of his mind there was the thought of approaching their parents again. He didn't want to think about that right now. A visual memory took its place. Kyli crying then hugging him like she'd never let go the 'slurpy night' right after he had beat up that guy who made her fall. His smile waned. His voice was soft and low, "I love you, Ky." His smile grew again. "Even with sticky tits."

Kyli exhaled sharply, "Don't call them tits." The corner of her mouth curled. Her right hand quickly moved from his forearm, dipped into the Ben 'n' Jerry's container, then wrapped her hand around Ted's semi-hard cock. She giggled like a little girl when he flinched. Her fist stroked up and down, surprised that despite the cold of the ice cream, his cock started to grow. "I love you too, even with a sticky... little wienie."

Ted laughed. "Jeez... your tongue is really going to be tired getting me cleaned up."

"So is yours, you ass."

Ted grinned. "Hey, turn over. I wanna put a little schmear on your rosebud."

Ky giggled softly. "My rosebud? What's that a euphemism for?"

He chuckled. "Turn over and you'll find out."

*

Joe was slouched against the headboard again. He sipped his bourbon rocks, then looked down to his left. Ann was on her side, curled up somewhat, her ass pressing against his hip, her back angled away from him a little, her profile mostly on the pillow, the inside of his forearm under her neck and jawline, her right hand loosely held his wrist, her other hand was hidden under the pillow. Her forearm blocked a good view of her nice size, firm breasts. Her breathing was slow, deep, and regular. She had been asleep for a few minutes. His arm was about to join her in slumber, it was beginning to tingle. He'd leave it there for five more minutes. His eyes traveled down her form. The sheet was pulled up to just below her tits, hiding the rest of nudity under it but not her contours.

As he knew years ago, she was a gorgeous girl by any guy's standards. On the island he had discovered she was intelligent, perceptive, caring, and had a sweetness about her too although not overly sappy. The only negative thing about her was her propensity for rough sex. He remembered his earlier thoughts as he they had screwed at the dresser. He truly did wish she'd find some good, young man and fall in love, and leave this rough shit behind, at least the fetish she had for it. Maybe it wasn't really a fetish?

He tried to convince himself that one reason he didn't tell her these visits were over was that he was concerned she'd find some other guy to give her what she wanted, and her choice would turn out to be a horrible mistake. He knew that was a rationalization. He liked it rough too... sometimes, but he'd describe his own desire more as 'intense sex' than 'rough sex.' Okay, maybe he didn't tell her to go on with her life partially due to his concern for her, let's say... 20%, and 80% was just his weakness, because he knew how much he'd miss it and her if she stopped coming for these visits. Every time she left he nearly prayed she'd find a nice guy and fall in love, and it would end these visits. The next day he'd get hard looking forward to the next time she'd show up.

He considered his other idea, the one he had the second time she visited, that she might look into therapy. He knew, at least assumed, her desire for it rough was connected to that time her freshman college year when she was... was what? He knew from what Nan had passed along to him after Ann told her the story, that Ann had been raped by a couple frat boys... no, not frat boys, criminals. She either refused to believe that fact, or actually didn't view it as rape. She had told Nan she had found it a little scary but hot and exciting too. Yeah, maybe he should at least subtly suggest she see a therapist. His brow pinched. How could anyone subtly suggest that? Okay, maybe lightly suggest it, whatever the hell that meant. He certainly couldn't demand she see a therapist. He knew it would probably just piss her off and make her resolve stronger against the idea.

He did enjoy fucking her, and now that he gave it some thought, he wasn't really being that rough with her, although tomorrow she might have some bruising on her tits. Maybe not. It was rare for that to happen. He sighed. He did care about her a lot. He was just tired of trying to do the right thing, and even if he wanted to do the right thing, he wasn't really sure what that would be regarding her. He recalled what Cheryl had said about her and the others on the boat -- 'They're not girls, they're all young women.' On the island, Nan had said something similar about Ann.

He turned his head and took another sip of bourbon. He set the glass on the bedside table, then smeared his hand around his face. He looked at the far wall and sighed again. He felt that odd sensation burgeoning once more. That sad, helpless feeling that sometimes pushed him close to actually crying. He tried to stop his mind from going into that emotional realm. He was trying to train himself to ignore -- the island, and... her. He fought it for a few moments, then, as always, he lost the battle.

One of his favorite mental videos of her appeared -- The day the fish arrived, how excited she had been, how excited they both had been. He saw her face, the determination and concentration displayed on it. How amazingly beautiful she had been, not just that day, but every moment on that damn island. He next saw her at Valor Valley, how scared she had been, how upset she had been, how angry she had been. He remembered how exceptionally brave she was that day, and the very first day on the beach too. He recalled how she had clung to his back so tightly when he played the stupid practical joke on her in the cave. He remembered how perfect she had felt lying with him both early on in the hut, and then near the end on the ridge, the mylar blanket over them, the night they had almost... almost made love. They had seemed to fit perfectly and not just physically lying together.

He had fallen in love with her that second day on the beach, that moment they stared into each other's eyes. Why the fuck didn't I tell her sooner?! He knew why, it was because he did love her. He was too old for her. Period. 25... okay, let's be accurate, 24 years older than her. Over a generation separating them.

His mouth formed a very small smile as he invented a brief conversation with her--

I'm two generations old. How old are you?

Me? I'm one and two tenths generations old.

Kids always added on the fractions, right?

His smile disappeared. They both had known that the love they felt could only exist on the island. At least they weren't stupid about it. He asked himself the question he had a thousand times in the past seven months -- On the island why the hell didn't I remember and think about the adage I learned in my high school freshman Latin class? Carpe diem. Carpe diem! CARPE DIEM!

Joe exhaled slowly. He knew a hundred adages and clichés wouldn't have changed anything he did or didn't do on the island. The reason he didn't tell her was that he did love her. Since boarding that Japanese container ship, he had known the rescue had happened in the nick of time for Lisa. She had escaped the island without him possibly fucking up her life.

The problem for him now was that he still loved her. How the hell long was this going to go on?

His thoughts shifted to earlier this evening at the restaurant. He recalled the sensation of the floor seeming to drop out from under him when he looked up and saw a young guy and girl walking to a table. He had stopped breathing. He had only seen the girl from behind, from the butt up and glances at her legs between the tables and chairs, yet he would have sworn on a Bible it was Lisa. He had spent five months of his life looking at her, staring at her every chance he got. Then when the girl turned around to sit down, for a fraction of a second he still thought it was Lisa, and during that moment his stomach knotted thinking she had been in some horrific accident, then finally... realization it was some other young woman who happen to look like her, like a sister she might have, just as beautiful and cute as Lisa. It was amazing. He hadn't been able to control his eyes after that. Jean, had caught him staring a dozen times.

Up close she hadn't seemed as much a twin as she first appeared, but she was definitely as pretty as Lisa, even with the scars and odd shape to a portion of her eye socket and cheek. Her eyes... seemed nervous, almost frightened, but... they were so much like Lisa's, the blue sans the wonderful gray flecks, but with the same sparkle of overwhelming inner beauty. There in the restaurant, he had so vividly remembered her eyes that second day on the beach, which now sometimes seemed like a dream, how he had wanted to dive into Lisa's speckled gray, crystal blue pools and stay forever.

Jean. As he had quite a few times since leaving the restaurant, he again wished he had gotten her last name. What he would do with it, he wasn't sure. He thought she looked older than Lisa and the guy she was with at the table, not much though, a few years at most. Yeah, what the hell good would it do me to have her last name? I wouldn't call her up for a date. Early twenties, it would be the same as calling Lisa.

He again thought of the telephone conversations with Nan, how she just wouldn't let it go. Maybe Lisa still loved him too, but it was just craziness to say the age difference didn't and shouldn't matter. He thought Nan was smart enough to know that. The worst aspect of Nan's calls were that they would make him question his own decision regarding Lisa, and he hated that the most about Nan telephoning. In four years he'd be 50 and Lisa would be 26. Why did it seem he was the only one who thought it was insane? Well, he bet Lisa's mother would agree with him.

He stared in the near darkness at the far wall. Ahhh... Lisa, I love you. I don't want to, but I do.

His eyes started to tear. He forced his mind to go blank. He raised his glass and finished his drink. He set the glass down, then slowly shifted on the bed, twisting towards Ann. His arm under her neck was completely numb and tingling. The fingers of his right hand gently pushed between her head and the pillow. He raised her head slightly, slowly extricated his arm, then lay her head down.

For a few reasons, Joe wished she was staying until Tuesday, one being it would give him an excuse not to go out to Naper Grove on Monday to visit a guy he knew from grad school. They had hung together for a while during that time, but the guy had never been a close friend. The island seemed to be resurrecting a lot of people from his past. The guy called one evening when Joe had one too many bourbon rocks and he had accepted the invitation to visit. At least it was in the afternoon. He'd tell him he had a dinner date or something, have a couple beers with him in the guy's home studio, then split. He thought the guy's art sucked in grad school. It might be interesting to see if it still sucked. Joe had tried to figure out how the damn Alumni Association got his cell number to publish in the Alumni Directory.

Joe's eyes traveled along Ann's nubile form once more, then he quietly moved lower on the bed and lay down. He wondered how long it would take him to get to sleep. He stared at the ceiling. Jean had looked so much like her at first.

Ann turned more onto her tummy as her legs stretched out. Her arm hugged the extra pillow closer. She murmured, "Mmmmhh."

*

When they finally made it upstairs, they showered together then they turned down the bed. When they got onto the mattress Ron insisted he kiss and touch every single square inch of her, saying it had been almost two months since he had been with her and wanted to refresh his memory of every little curve and dimple of her landscape. Jean had rolled her eyes and he told her to shut up and turn over.

She had loved every moment of his touches and kisses, both glad and a little disappointed when his caressing lips didn't explore the crevice between her buns, but then after he ended his downward journey at her right heel, his tongue and lips traced up the back of her left leg and then his warm, strong hands opened her valley and his lips and tongue touched her everywhere. She felt a little guilty, wild, and embarrassed when her spine dipped and her bottom rose slightly when his warm, wet tongue laved over and around her hot, little hole for a few moments. The guilt and embarrassment vanished though when he smeared his face on her fleshy bottom and told her how much he loved her. She knew anything they did together was making love, even if it was a little wild, a little kinky.

When he was finished with her backside, he told her to roll over and although she repeatedly insisted she wanted him in her mouth, he kept countering with, "No," as he started his touching and kissing, beginning at her toes and working upward. She finally gave up, secretly glad he refused, at least until he was finished with her frontside, then she was going to insist she have him in her mouth.

As he had on her flip side, Ron didn't rush his caresses. She could tell he was getting as excited from it as she was. That always amazed her, although she knew if their roles were reversed, which they had been only a few times, a lot less than she had wanted, and he never let her finish, she'd be excited kissing and touching every square inch of him too.

He only gave her pussy a couple slow licks and her clit a few kisses. As usual, his tongue traced each and every one of her scars and his lips added kisses. When he had first done that last summer, it had bothered her, and although he really didn't explain it very well, he said they were just another part of her he loved, special spots, like her nipples or lips or the crease on the inside of her elbows and the backs of her knees or her cute ears. His response had let her relax about it. She only thought of it now because couldn't feel the physical sensations of his lips and tongue as much on and around all her scars.

He spent extra time caressing her breasts, sucking, flickering his tongue on her erect nipples, and his hands playing too. He moved her arms, encircling her head with them. His lips and tongue traveled down her right first to her fingertips, then to the fingers of her left hand, onto her palm, along the length of her left arm, then across her shoulders to her neck.

He had told her not to move, but when his mouth reached her throat, she arched her neck. It was almost an autonomic response. He didn't complain, just gave her a warm, moist, wonderful necklace of kisses. He made her smile, almost giggle when he kissed her ears and tickled with his tongue. He kissed nearly every inch of her face before his mouth met hers and their tongues performed their dance of love. When the lengthy kiss finally ended, both their breaths had increased tempo. As he gave her face then her neck more caresses, she told him again she wanted him in her mouth. He said he wasn't finished yet.

He trailed kisses quickly down to her pussy, where his tongue was much more energized than it had been a few minutes earlier. She told him again she wanted him in her mouth, and again he said, "Not yet."