Blue-Dark Bayou Ch. 02

" I don't reckon I'd call you a witch- there's a fair big difference 'tween a witch and a Conjur' person, that's surely told."

The old woman paused.

"Ah, Lucinda- that's mighty wise of you, girl, withal. We ain't the same, not a bit- though most don't care to know it."

She paused, rubbing her gnarled finger over her chin.

"Well, now, you've always been a gracious child to me, even in passing on the street, ain't ye. So I'm goin' to do you a good turn, in light of all that."

She looked at Marie then, deep, ever so deep- and knowing, ever knowing- and Marie could scarce believe anyone could reach through her eyes like that, without tearing out her spleen in the process- but Conjur' woman did it.

"I'm going to give you what you want- what you really want- yer's for the takin', child- but ye must be honest o'er it, say it, only once."

Marie knew whereof the Conjur' woman spoke.

Her mouth was dry, and she could barely speak, but she did- for who could hear her blasphemy out here in the kudzu, among the snakes and the vines?

"My brother," she whispered, thickly. "I want Jesse."

"Of course ye do," said Conjur' woman, her eyes bright with incandescence in the fading light. "And ye'll have him, child- I'll see to that."

Marie swallowed, trying to regain her voice, now the dreadful words were said.

"You'll give me another apple- for Jesse?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that, child- that's a shabby parlor trick the likes of you won't be needin'."

"What'll I do then? He don't recollect any of it-"

"And that just tore you up, now, didn't it, child? I know it did. Even as you suffered all them pains of the righteous," Conjur' woman pursed her lips in dark sympathy. "But lissen, now- lissen here. I'm gonna fix all o' that."

"How?" Marie's pale eyes were wide in her sun-tinted face, and her heart beat like a bird in a box.

"I'm gonna take that pesky conscience off your back. To hell with all that godly guilt- I'll jest take it all away."

"Can you do that?" Marie said, in disbelief.

"I jest done it," pronounced Conjur' woman, settin' back and looking mighty pleased with herself.

Was that all, then? Was that all, indeed?

"What about Jesse?"

"What about him?"

"Ain't you gonna make him want me- ain't you gonna take away his guilt, too?"

Conjur' woman threw back her head and laughed.

She laughed until the trees rang around them, until she couldn't laugh no more.

"Why, ain't you a doll, child- so I'll tell ye a truth yer mama never knew-"

She leaned in close.

"Men ain't so broke up about virtue as they'd have womankind be- yer brother among 'em. And though he be a good enough man, he'd take you in a bare instant- if he thought he could."

Marie nodded, numbly. It was true, all of it. Men were beasts, they were sin- and she didn't care, not one lick, not one speck. Conjur' woman was as good as her word.

She turned to go, edified, changed- for the best, if not the better.

"I don't reckon I should thank you," said Marie in a low voice.

Conjur' woman stared out into the swamp, and she smiled, slow and dark.

"I don't reckon you should."

When Marie's red-printed dress had disappeared into the kudzu, Conjur' woman allowed herself a chuckle.

"One more woman in the world, Lord- aren't you and yer cunt-fearing boys all a-tremble?"

Marie made her way back to the homestead, same as she came, and good that she did, because the sun was fast abandoning the land. Had it really been as long as all that?

Not so very long- it had been well o'er noon when Jesse traipsed out to tame the wayward fence.

When she broke out of the wood, out of the tangle of cypress roots, it was just approaching dusk, though the air was no less heat-struck.

Jesse glanced up from where he stood at the well, bucket in hand. He watched her meander, as she wove her way leisurely toward the house, and he slowly lifted the bucket up and let the water drench him, coursing down over his body- well-used and salty with earth.

"Where'd you get off to, Lucy-girl?" he drawled, as she neared him.

"Nowhere altogether special,"

Jesse eyed her a moment, then ducked his head for another cascade. Water hung breathless on his lashes and brows, darkening them from gold to light brown.

"Just done finished the fence."

"Where's Manda Jane, then?"

He broke a smile, rolling his eyes with good nature.

"She done set out for home some time ago. I was hopin' you might be around to take the edge off that little powwow, but you done made yourself scarce."

Marie cringed.

"How'd that end up, then?"

"Well as could be, to my mind. She didn't seem too broke-up o'er it.""

"She weren't mad?"

Jesse shook his head, deliberately.

"Nope."

Marie paused, fingering her hair.

"About Manda Jane- it don't bother you none, her bein' your cousin and all?"

"Not particularly, I don't s'pose. It ain't so very unusual."

"She's blood, though, Jesse- your own kin. Our own."

He shrugged and gave her hair a tug, laughing.

"How you do fret, Lucy-doll. There ain't much bad to come of it. Manda Jane ain't at all sorry, and I don't reckon I am, so where's the harm?"

Marie looked up at him, marking the curve of the bones in his cheek.

"I don't know." She said. "Maybe it don't matter."

"What don't matter?"

"If'n there is, or if'n there ain't." She shrugged. "Harm, that is."

Almost without thinking of it, her eyes had moved, down the length of his body, coming to rest on the cut of his loins, the barest part of which she could see above his jeans.

"What do you mean to say, Lucy-Marie?" Jesse asked, slowly.

"Aren't you a sight," she said, brightly. "I reckon you'd best dip a few more pails afore you come up to the house."

"You look like you could use a scrubbing your own self," he remarked, quietly.

He spoke true. Her legs were fairly streaked with blue-grey bayou mud beneath her sundress, and her hair fell around her shoulders in a tousle of seal-brown billows.

Marie felt her netherest regions begin to tingle under his gaze.

"Then douse me, Jesse Aaron- if you reckon I need it."

Her brother seemed to hesitate, but in the end he lifted up the bucket, and cool well water splashed over her, making her gasp.

Over her shoulders, her breasts, her belly. It coursed down her legs, and the mud ran rivulets into the dry grass.

Jesse regarded her with a strange gaze that was bold and not at all brotherly.

Marie felt a little tremor of fear.

She was clean, no doubt about that.

For his part, her brother seemed to be in the grip of some cold-burning fever. It consumed his eyes, even as they consumed her, and she shuddered, inward, at his expression.

"Ain't that your church dress?" He said, in a low voice.

She nodded.

The cotton print dress clung damply, tracing her contours. Marie could feel it drawing upward over her thighs, wrapping itself around her waist and clinging across the span of her breasts-

A flush crept over her. Yes, she thought, this is wicked- but it didn't matter now, did it? Conjur' woman'd seen to that.

Jesse, she pleaded with her eyes. Be a good brother to me, do what you mustn't.

And then, that demon hissed in her ear, do it again.

Yes, thought Marie, and surely he could feel her longing- why, it must be tangible.

She saw his hand tremble and clench-

Abruptly, his eyes broke their circuit.

"You best get on up to the house," he said, softly, turning away.

He threw down that bucket, and it clattered into the depths of the well.

Breathless and mortified, Marie ran, stopping when she reached the porch. She watched him from a distance, as he hauled that bucket topside once more and dashed himself under a deluge of water, his face turned upward, as if seeking salvation.

But there weren't no rinsing of sin, once you'd been tainted- Marie knew that well enough.

She went into the house on trembling legs, climbing the stairs to her room. It was a pure shambles, much to her expectations, least as far as the bed was concerned.

She stripped off her soaked dress, and lay down on the ruined bed. The beaten brass made its token protest manifest in a series of groans and winces, but Marie cared little enough for that, at the mercy of her rudely thwarted arousal.

Conjur' woman said it- all men are sinners.

She ran her fingers over the rumpled quilt and thought of Jesse's body, taut and thrusting- here, he'd been, and here-

And he'd lain here, asleep, his head crushing the pillow with his dark dreams, after he'd fucked Manda Jane insensible- her brother, Jesse Aaron. She buried her face down, into the depths of the quilt, and it was there she did catch it- the barest hint of a masculine scent.

That scent was madness made- and she did crave him- worse than even before. She was seized by it- taken by an odd, unrelenting impulse to go to her brother's room, to crawl into his bed, to roll bodily over it and dwell in the nearness of him.

His bed, she thought, all a sudden.

After a moment Marie got to her feet and crept down the hall. The wide planks of the wood floor were worn and rubbed-smooth from years of use.

Jesse's room was the last door- never locked- why would he, after all? The key pointed out from the old lockplate, where it dwelled- a weathered, scrolly black thing. Her fingers traced it for but a hung moment, and then she pushed the door open, shivering as she stepped into the darkness of his room.

Had it suddenly grown cold in the farm-house, or was it a merely a wicked trick of her passion, driving all her blood down below, as it did, to throb and boil in her loins?

Jesse's bed was weathered, too, black wrought-iron, heavy as a strong-man's casket. It was made-up, now- and manners dictated that one never lay upon a made-up bed- so decorum preserving, she'd be forced to get in, now, wouldn't she?

Throwing back the coverlet, Marie closed her eyes and slipped between the sun-bleached sheets. She imagined her brother, his body, his face- the only boy she couldn't admire with her arms. His body had lain here, where she was right this moment- it gave her a strange, unearthly thrill to think of his naked flesh against the linen. He was so pleasing to the eye- that blond head glowing in the ardent praises of the sun, that form, oh Lord- born of honest use, every bit a son of Atlas, holding her world captive on the broad spread of his shoulders. Would he be as pleasing to the touch?

She heard the door slam below.

"Lucy?"

She heard him call out.

A pause, and then his tell-tale step on the stair.

"Hey, Lucy-girl- Looks like we're in for it tonight. It's gonna storm somethin' fierce, I reckon- good news, though, for the crop. We already done lost our electric; that won't come back tonight."

There was a creak as he opened her bedroom door, but he wouldn't find her there, now-

"Lucy?"

"Yes...Jesse?" Marie managed, trepidacious.

"Aw, now there you are-" and he turned his course- did he think nothing of it? "Them thunderheads are all black and boilin', up over the ridge, fixin' t o come down-"

Marie half-way sat up, eyeing the door as it swung open.

"-like the wrath of God..." he finished, stopping fast where he stood.

He held a lantern in his hand, did Jesse, always the mindful one.

Night came quickly to the edge of the swamp.

Marie did not blink- the light was not enough for that- but she swallowed, ever slight, at the way of his eyes.

The old tin lantern cast a sulky ring of tangerine-blue outward from his hand, fading ever to black toward the sloping corners of the room, shunning acquaintance with all things that lay outside the circle of its influence.

The light played havoc along his brows, making him look like a fantastical villain, even as it uplit his face, painting his lips and cheeks with divine light- every bit a heavenly angel made flesh.

Marie could hardly even breathe, to look at him. Her fingers clutched weakly at the coverlet, aching to do away with false modesty, but no, let him do it, if he would- let him cast the first stone into the abyss.

Her shoulders were bare, the faded quilt's edge hovering somewhere below her collarbone.

Jesse could see the beginning of the hollow between her breasts.

"You got anything on under there?" he asked, quietly.

She shook her head.

He nodded slowly, exhaling through his lips.

He closed his eyes, seemed to re-gather himself. Struggled to.

"Is it the storm, then? Saint's blood from above, Lucy- I don't mind you sleepin' with me, if that's all- only put on your night-dress," he shuddered. "You ain't a lap-child no more."

Marie stayed silent, wide-eyed in the warm half-light.

Her brother's hand shook ever so slight, causing the lantern light to sway.

He steadied it.

"G'won now," Jesse said- strange catch in his voice, now- "And I'll turn my back."

She remained still as the night, perfect, immovable. The quilt slipped a little, of its own accord, settled down, and one of her breasts was there, bared to his eyes, and he could not avert them quickly enough.

Nor did he try, if the truth be told.

That's powerful strange, thought Marie, fleeting-

She regarded him boldly with her pale eyes- they shone from her sun-bronzed face, in contrast to her hair, sable-dark- all of it muted in the dim-lit room, but he was aware of it, oh Lord, yes- his sister's charms were no less by lamp-light.

"You best get yourself out of here," her brother said, in a low voice, changed, somehow- thicker, the honey turned to grit.

His tone was deadly sober, tinged with warning, and it inflamed her, aroused her- it was Jesse, and yet it was a Jesse she'd never known- a Jesse she longed to know in her deepest nether-regions.

Marie held frozen where she was, defying him, breaking his heart and painting it black with the stain of his own unnamable desire.

"Oh Lucy," he said. "You don't know what you done, girl-"

He let the door close behind him.

Marie felt her belly burst into flame, and snakes and butterflies- as he came toward her, setting the lantern on the rickety bed-table and lowering the wick with a turn of his wrist.

The butterflies fanned the flames, and those flames, they licked at her ribs, curled up over her tongue. If only he would kiss her- he might feel them...

Without warning, her brother had taken the quilt in his hands, pulling it back and away from her, her nakedness laid out before him. Marie did not move, resigned to his mercy- had she not begged for this?

Her brother was beautiful to behold, a study of a man- she could barely hold him in her sights- he had all the glory of the harvest fields, the sky, the hunter's moon- all poured into the contours of his face, his ruthless form- and every lesser thing; the tilt of his head, arch of his brow, the gilt of his lashes. All poured into the mold he broke from, a mold not meant for her- and yet-

"Jest look at you," Jesse said, softly. "My own baby sister."

Marie snatched at the quilt, mindful that she ought t'at least try- but he kept it just out of her grasp. Her eyes were wide and luminous, straining to absorb the faltering light.

He tilted his head.

"You're a sight, Lucy-Marie- nary a nightdress, mud on your feet."

"There ain't no mud on me," Marie countered, boldly, but Jesse put a warning finger to his lips with a meaningful vault of his brows.

She trailed off, losing her words.

"Why- your hair's lookin' like a charity-house wig," he chided, softly, wrapping it around his fist. Marie felt her head pull toward him, and whimpered softly with longing.

"So how is it-" he said, pausing, his mouth at her ear -"how is it I like it?"

Overcome, Marie turned her head and met his mouth with hers- she felt his surprise, at first, but then he gave himself over to it, unable to resist.

As his tongue parted her lips, she felt the dampness of her thighs, and breathed out, as Jesse pushed deeper- her own tongue grazing his as they wound the kiss back and forth. Lust wove an intricate, unknown pattern- mutable, chaotic- and utterly beyond Marie's comprehension

"Is that what you wanted, Marie?" he asked, chasing his breath in the shadows of the room. "That I should kiss you?"

Jesse was upon the bed, then, before her- clad only in his jeans.

He moved his body over hers, slow, his eyes hard as diamonds. Marie trembled at the nearness of his flesh- him half-naked, her entirely so.

"I reckon I'll do it again," he said, holding himself above her on his hands.

He leaned down, bent his blond head and placed his mouth over hers, deliberate, exquisite, and she nearly went blind from desire.

Her brother's kisses were terrifying in their allure.

Marie rose up and took hold of him, pulled herself up against his chest, and let him kiss her throat, her dark hair spilling back over his hands, as he ran them over the flesh of her wanton back.

Her heart hammered, her senses swung wildly. Jesse's lips caressed her, slipping ever lower. Her brother was a stranger to her body- though clearly no stranger to its kind...

His hand closed over her breast and she moaned.

Such hands he had- callused to a dull and delectable roughness from his work, strong as a vice, from the same, if he wished-

But he didn't wish for that, now- he rubbed his palms over her nipples, taunting them- not exactly gentle. Slowly, he twisted them, pinched them between his fingers, and Marie's eyes flew open in shock at the revelation. Little triggers fired off, down to her loins- her breasts, the hot-wire to her pussy, and he'd just crosst her wires, now, hadn't he?

All the while, he watched her with a languid eye that belied the hunger of his gaze.

"Whatsat, Lucy-girl-" he cooed. "You want I should kiss them?"

He bent his head, and she ran her fingers into his blond fore-swirl, gripping it in her clutch as he lowered his treacherous mouth, covering her breast in blissful warm pressure. Marie kissed his hair, mindlessly, as he traced the line of her stomach with the tip of his tongue, then back again, over her breast as he flicked the nipple and sent her spinning into shivers.

He rose up, then- her brother, eyes all a-fire with the strangest expression.

She lay back on the bed, watching him through half-lidded eyes. Her entire body was at his command, wet for him, shaking with want of him-

"Please, Jesse-" she whispered. "Take what you want."

"I've every mind to," was all he said, and Lord save him for the way he said it-

Marie closed her eyes, running her tongue over her bruised lips, swollen from her brother's passionate assault.

When she opened them again, Jesse had slid his blue jeans off, and then there he was before her, every muscle, every inch. His cock was poised, wickedly rigid, indecently broad- long enough to give her pause, but Marie found she enjoyed that kind of fear.

He looked her in the eye, silent, daring her to touch him.

Then he moved to re-claim his place above her, gently easing her thighs apart until he rested between them. His skin was wretched smooth, smoother than any farm-boy's had a right to be- and hot as a gin-jar.

She felt him against her, and it set off a tingle in her nether region.

Belated thunder clapped outside, and the deluge began, battering the windows.

Jesse's cock, Lord above- her brother's cock- grazed her low, snaked over the lips of her cunt, and Marie nearly died of want. Great bells rung deep inside her, down below, and she leaned against him, desire wracking her body as his fingers roamed down; his coarsened hand touched her nether-lips and drew across them, down, until his fingers were tipped in her wetness.

Marie caught at her breath.

"Just like honey," he whispered, smiling as his dark intent revealed itself.

Her mouth opened over his shoulder in a lustful kiss as his fingers moved lazy over her pussy, stroking, knowing.