胭魂鬼愛 A Ghostly Affair

[JEMMA]

Chapter Seven 

Debbie's natural curiosity was made more firm by her unwillingness to accept that her mother had lied to her. Debbie had never lied to her mother. Other than the fact, of course, that Debbie and Robby had played at the Naughty Manor for years, and that they were sexually involved with each other were big secrets. But those were lies of omission and the only secrets Debbie had from her mother. She couldn't understand how her mother could be this other woman, and that Debbie had never been able to see even a glimpse of that woman. 

"Mom?" began Debbie tentatively.' 

"Hmmmm?" responded Ramona, her mind still on what had just happened. 

"Tell me about your boyfriends," said Debbie. 

Ramona turned and looked at her daughter. "Whatever do you mean? I don't have any boyfriends." 

Debbie pushed the fresh sprout of her anger down and tried to be patient. "I mean when you were my age," she clarified. 

Ramona knew her daughter well enough to see that she was uncomfortable ... distant somehow. They had always been loving and close. Was Debbie interested in a boy? That might explain her behavior recently ... her fits of anger. And, even though Debbie's recent outbursts had seemed to be tied to the Naughty mansion, Ramona knew that ... hormones ... could intrude into life in the most unlikely ways. 

"Are you interested in a boy?" she asked her daughter. 

Debbie's first instinct was to deny that with a laugh. There were boys who interested her, but not as boyfriend material. She wasn't driven by hormones to seek males. She was quite satisfied with what she and her brother did in that way. But still, boys were ... interesting. And if saying she was interested in a boy would get her mother talking, then fine. 

"Sort of," she said vaguely. "I've never had a real boyfriend." 

Ramona sighed. Life at this stage of growing up was so hard. She hated the thought of her daughter going through what she had gone through as a girl. But she knew it had to happen. She hoped it didn't have to happen in quite the same way it had to her. It never occurred to her that her son and daughter might have the same kind of relationship she had had with her brother. That relationship had been born of the kind of pain and loneliness that her children had never had to face. 

"Well, sweetheart, I'm not sure I'll be much help to you. I didn't have many boyfriends until I met your father," she said. 

"Tell me about them," urged Debbie. 

Ramona sat down at the table, where her unfinished plate of food still sat. She took a sip of her tea, but left the food alone. 

"Golly," she said, her eyes going unfocused. "There isn't all that much to tell. There was a boy named George, when I was twelve. He was nice to me and I kind of thought of him as a boyfriend. We couldn't date or anything like that, of course." 

"How about when you were older ... my age?" asked Debbie. 

Ramona didn't know how to answer that question. Her "boyfriend" then had been Robert. Her guardian hadn't allowed her to date, and boys didn't come to visit at the house where the waifs lived. There had been boys who showed interest in her, but the whispers of girls her age told her that all they wanted was what she and Robert did in the dark of night, and she wasn't interested in doing that with anyone except Robert. What she had with her brother was precious and special. 

But she couldn't tell her daughter about that! 

"I guess I didn't really have a boyfriend until I went to college and met your father," she said. 

The anger swelled again in the pit of Debbie's gut. Another lie. 

"No other boy kissed you until you met Daddy?" she asked, her voice tight. 

There was a slippery slope here for Ramona. Another boy had kissed her, and done a lot more than that before she met Richard. But that boy was Robert, and she couldn't tell her daughter about that. She avoided the question by asking one of her own. 

"Has a boy tried to kiss you?" 

"You didn't answer my question Mom," continued Debbie. "Why won't you answer my question?" 

Ramona's reaction to her daughter's interrogation was one of fear. Had someone in the community been telling her children stories of Ramona's past? There were still a few people around who had lived in Naughty and might have known Ramona when she was a ward. She hadn't worried about them because she had tried to be so invisible before she went to college. And, when she came back to Naughty with a husband and a baby in her womb, she had thought people would forget her past. Only the oldest people in town might remember that she was the sad little Naughty girl who changed her name. Was it possible that the renovation of the mansion had brought out old dusty memories ... and idle chatter about the past? 

"Who have you been talking to?" she asked. 

Now it was Debbie who had to be careful. Any information she divulged about what she now knew about her mother had to appear to have come from some source that couldn't be questioned. 

"Nobody," she said tersely. "It's just that everybody has a boyfriend. Everybody has a first kiss. It's just how things happen. I just wanted to know what that was like for you." 

Ramona thought about what kind of emotions Debbie might be feeling at her age. She didn't have a good frame of reference to think about that, because her own childhood had been anything but normal. Still, she knew how it felt to be in love ... to want a man's touch ... to want to do things with a man, even if that man had been her brother when she was Debbie's age. 

"Sit down, Darling," she said, pointing to a chair. 

Debbie hesitated, but then sat. 

"Sweetheart, a girl at your age has feelings that are very strong sometimes. It's normal for her to be curious about boys and what it would be like to ... kiss them. That seems like a long time ago, when I felt those things. The mother in me wants to tell you not to kiss the boys. But I know that's not realistic. I guess what I really want you to understand is that it's tempting to do things with boys just because of feelings you have, but it's important not to go too far unless you have real love. Does that make sense?" 

Debbie's reaction to that was mixed. What her mother was saying sounded like what any mother would say. But, knowing what her mother had just done, only an hour before, it had to mean that her mother ... loved ... mister Semen, and that didn't make any sense at all. A new thought bloomed in Debbie's mind. She didn't remember her father, because she had just been a toddler when he was killed. And, while she didn't remember any men in her home life, there had been a period of a few years when, if there was a man in the house, she might not have remembered it. Could mister Semen be a man her mother fell in love with after her father was killed? 

In typical teenage fashion, instead of answering her mother's question, she blurted out her own. 

"Mom, did you have a boyfriend after Daddy died?" 

Ramona stared at her daughter. This was a conversation that seemed ... odd somehow. Her parental radar began to have blips on the screen that were disturbing. 

"No, Darling," she said. She strained to find the right words. "Things were very difficult for me when your father died. I wasn't ... well. It took a long time to get as back to being normal as I could. I didn't feel that ... seeking male companionship ... was something that would make my life ... our lives ... better." 

Ramona saw something like disappointment cross her daughter's face. This was very odd. On impulse she spoke. 

"Debbie, why are you asking me all these questions. Do you have a boyfriend? Has he tried to do something that makes you uncomfortable? What's going on?" 

Their roles had been somewhat reversed. Initially, Debbie had thought she might pry some information out of her mother that would answer some questions about the man next door. If he was an old boyfriend, what she and her brother had seen would make a lot more sense. Now, however, she heard that tone in her mother's voice that meant she was the one being interrogated, and that her mother wanted to pry information out of her. 

Still, other than the fact that her mother did not seem to want to confess to what had gone on in the past with mister Semen ... what was still going on with him ... her mother's responses had been what Debbie would have expected ... caring responses that any loving mother might have given. The questions Debbie wanted answers to concerned mister Semen. Something in Debbie had begun to recognize that her and her brother's childhood play-place was gone now, never to return. Now this unbelievable relationship her mother had with Semen had pushed itself into her uppermost mind. She itched to make sense of it, and she took the risk of further questions. 

"It's just that you seem so interested in mister Semen," she hazarded. "I mean what with him being a stranger and all, and I know about the bank and all that stuff, but it just seems like ... I don't know ... like you look at him sort of like I look at boys at school." 

Debbie held her breath, waiting to see what her mother would say ... or do. 

It was a pivotal point in the relationship between mother and daughter. At this point, Debbie knew her mother had lied to her at least twice, and that was something she couldn't understand. She also knew that her mother must love this stranger from somewhere in her past that she wasn't willing to talk about, and she couldn't understand that either. Had her mother laughed, or pshawed the idea that Semen might mean something to her, it might have created a rift between mother and daughter that could have lasted a lifetime. 

But Ramona didn't laugh. She was seized by feelings of fear of her daughter finding out secrets that were better off left buried. At the same time she had to acknowledge that her daughter's instincts about this were astonishingly accurate, considering her age. Had she known that her children had spied on her, everything would have been different. She harbored some kind of insane hope in her heart that she and Robert might be able, somehow, to recapture the happiness of their youth together, now that he was back. She felt no guilt about what they had done since his return, but she was fully aware of the pitfalls involved in that forbidden relationship. If she could just tell her children who he was, they would simply assume that the ... feelings ... they saw, and which Debbie had just voiced seeing, were only the natural love of sister for brother. 

But could she trust them to be discreet? Robert still had things to do before he took off his disguise in public, or at least until he appeared publicly as Robert Naughty. Ramona was wracked with doubt. But she saw real questions in her daughter's eyes, and that was important too. 

Now it was Ramona who took a risk. 

"Sweetheart, there are things about mister Semen you don't know." 

Ramona saw light bloom in her daughter's eyes, an obvious interest that shouted that this was something Debbie wanted very badly to know about. Debbie unconsciously leaned forward, toward her mother. 

"But ... I can't tell you everything just yet." 

The light dimmed in Debbie's eyes, and Ramona saw that too. She went on hurriedly. 

"It's not because I don't want to tell you. It's complicated. There are legal issues over at the mansion and, until those are resolved, it's very important that no one learn some things about him that could cause him problems." 

Debbie clutched at the little part of the secret that her mother had shared. 

"Okay, I understand that, but why would you be interested in him? As a man, I mean?" Debbie pushed her luck even further. "It's like you knew him in the past or something." 

Ramona became wary. "Is this what all those questions about boyfriends were all about?" she asked shrewdly. 

Debbie's eyes widened. Her mother was pretty sharp. "Well ... yeah ... I guess so ... sort of." 

Ramona didn't know what to say. She knew if she just put her daughter off that it wouldn't work. That much was obvious from her previous behavior. 

"Let me say this. I already told you I knew him in the past. And, when I knew him then I liked him. He didn't have that beard then. But he's not my boyfriend." Ramona looked at her daughter to gauge the response. 

Debbie was now confused. Her mother obviously liked mister Semen a lot more than she was admitting to. But what confused Debbie was her mother's unwillingness to admit that. She got an idea. 

"Is he married or something?" she asked. 

Ramona shook her head. "No, he's not married. But people would be ... upset if they thought we were as close as a boyfriend and girlfriend." 

"Why?" asked Debbie. 

"That's something I can't talk about," said Ramona, unable to come up with anything else. "You'll understand in a few weeks. I promise you that. You'll understand everything in a few weeks. Okay?" 

Debbie's curiosity had been both soothed, to a tiny degree, and inflamed, to a large degree. She couldn't imagine why her mother had to wait to tell her just who this man really was. But she knew she'd gotten as much out of her mother as was likely, so she nodded. Then she felt compelled, for some reason, to hug her mother. She got up and bent over to embrace her. 

"I love you Mommy," she said into her mother's hair. 

Ramona felt a stab of emotion. "I love you too baby. I really do. And someday you'll understand all of this and it will be okay. I promise everything will be okay," she murmured. 

That did, in fact, reassure Debbie, but she went to talk to Robby about things anyway. She didn't have much to give him, but it was more than she'd had an hour ago. 

Robby listened carefully to what his sister told him. 

"She admitted she liked him, a long time ago?" he asked. 

"Well, she didn't say it was a long time ago. She just said she liked him, but he wasn't her boyfriend. But it had to be a long time ago, because otherwise we'd know him too ... wouldn't we?" 

"Yeah, that makes sense," said her brother. "And she said he couldn't be her ... boyfriend?" That word just seemed too strange to use in the same sentence as his mother. 

"She said he can't be her boyfriend, because people wouldn't like it," said Debbie. "Why wouldn't people let her choose whoever she wanted for her boyfriend?" she mused. 

"It has to be something to do with the manor," decided Robby. "But how can we find out what it is?" 

Debbie thought and then straightened up. 

"The library!" she said excitedly. "Doesn't the library have old records and newspapers and stuff like that?" 

And so it was decided. The kids would journey to the town library the next day, while their mother worked ... or visited Semen again.

[JEMMA]

Ramona worried about the conversation with her daughter. Had she said too much? Should she have said more? But the next morning, when her children acted completely normal towards her, laughing and talking about going swimming, she felt better. 

She might have felt differently if she'd known what they were really going to do. 

They waited until she was gone and then started to get ready to go. Debbie, thinking about her mother, and what she'd seen, suddenly felt that itch between her legs that meant it was time to visit the manor. Except they couldn't do that any more. She remembered the day before, as they lay clutched on the very bed she was sitting on, and her nipples tingled. She got up to go see her brother. 



Robby was standing in his underwear, trying to decide on whether to wear shorts or jeans when his sister walked into the room, her blouse unbuttoned. She pulled it open to display her naked, bobbing breasts. 

"Little Debbie has a treat for you," she announced, taking the blouse off. 

Uncharacteristically, Robby, the male in the relationship, the one reputed to have no self control, chastised her. 



"Debbie, we have things to do!" 

"We can afford ten minutes," she said, cupping her breasts and squeezing her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers. "Come on, don't you want just a little taste?" 

She knew how to get his juices flowing and watched with glee as the front of his briefs began to fill up and bulge. 

"Of course you do," she teased, bending over to slide her shorts down and step out of them. She slid one hand from her breast into her panties and pressed her clit. 

"Hey!" he said. "Isn't that my job?" 

"I thought you wanted to go dig through musty old books," she kept teasing. "Besides, I did just fine all by myself for years before you got involved." 

Robby knew how to tease too. He picked up his shorts and put a leg through them. 

"Okay, I'll be at the library whenever you get finished." He pulled the shorts up and buttoned the waist. 

"Robbeeeeeeee," she whined. "Don't be mean to meeeeee," she said as she dug her finger up into her pussy. 

"You started it," he grinned. 



But he unbuttoned and dropped his pants. Her pursuit of him gave him a feeling of power and he pulled his briefs off to stand, hands on hips, his prick strong and straight, pointing at her. He went to his bed and lay down on it, looking at her. 

Debbie made a show of sliding her panties down her thighs. She stood when they were at her knees, spreading her feet as widely as her strained panties allowed, and ruffled her blond fur, slicking her middle finger between her lips. 

"I'm wet," she said, her voice husky. 

"I know how to make you even wetter," said her brother, reaching for his cock and stroking it. 

Debbie removed her panties, kicking them with one foot, making them sail toward her brother. They hit the side of the bed and dropped to the floor. She walked languidly over to the bed and leaned over to watch as her brother stroked himself. She loved watching that thin skin uncover and then cover back up the head of his prick. 



"Let me," she said, reaching for it. 

Robby let his hand drop and sighed as he felt her warm hand grasp him. She played with him, playing with his foreskin. A bubble of white oozed out of the slit in the tip and Debbie suddenly thought of her mother, on her knees in front of Semen, sucking. She had been ready to let Semen squirt in her mouth, but he had wanted to put - what was it he called it? - his seed ... yes his seed in her mother's pussy, where it could make a baby. She stared at her brother's ... seed. 

Acting on impulse, she leaned lower and flicked her tongue out to swipe that bubble with the tip of her tongue. 

She tasted. It didn't taste like much of anything. A tiny bit bitter, but sweet somehow too. Her impulse suggested copying what her mother had done. Having seen her mother, who was obviously enjoying what she had been doing, it didn't seem too strange any more. 

Robby felt heat surround the head of his cock. It was like nothing he had ever felt before, except maybe when he rubbed between his sister's pussy lips with the tip. But this was all around the knob. He lifted his head and stared at his sister, sucking his cock. 

"Oh fuck, oh fuck ... oh ... oh," he moaned. 



The heat all around his prick head left, leaving cool air that didn't feel good at all. Her blond head came up. 

"You like that?" she asked, licking her lips. 

"Ohhh pleeease do it some more," he pleaded. 

She happily went back to sucking, loving the feel of his smooth skin. She could play with that cute foreskin with her tongue and she did so, moving her lips to force it off the head and then licking it as it tried to cover him again. She tasted more of the bitter/sweet stuff and swallowed it, along with saliva that seemed to be pouring into her mouth. She took more of his cock into her mouth, feeling downward with her lips, feeling the head trying to go into the back of her throat. She gagged, and didn't like that feeling, so she pulled back to play with just the head. She liked that better. 

Robby had lain rigid while she loved his prick. He wanted to shoot, but the thought of doing that with her mouth down there was something he was just sure she'd be mad at if he did it. But it felt too good. 

"Deb, something's going to happen," he warned, his voice tight as he tried not to make a horrible mistake. "You need to stop now!" 

She did, raising her head. "Is it going to squirt?" she asked. 

He nodded. "Yeah, that feels too good." 

She stared at her brother's eyes. "You taste good," she said. 



Then she let her face fall and took him in her mouth again. 

For Robby, it was like somebody had slapped him 10 or 15 times. He closed his eyes tightly as his face went into a grimace and his mouth opened wide. He felt it deep in his balls ... an ache that could only be eased by one thing. Then, before he could take another breath his prick started spouting ribbons of thick cum. 

Debbie knew what to expect only in so far as she had seen him squirt before, and helped clean up the spots where they had made a mess on the bed. But confining that to just her mouth was much more difficult than she thought it would be. She got two swallows in before her mouth overflowed and her brother's sperm began leaking from the corners of her mouth. She felt like she was going to choke and pulled her mouth off of him, taking one spurt right on where, if she were a male, she might have a moustache. She could have posed for a commercial that wouldn't be seen for thirty years, in which the tag line was "Got Milk?" Except, of course, for the fact that her "milk" was now dripping down across her lips and chin and beginning to drop in strings down to her breasts. She swallowed twice more, her mouth clearing at last, and her hands came up to catch the mess. In concentration it tasted different and she realized that she loved the taste. She began licking her hands, cleaning them like a kitten cleans its paws. 



Robby just lay there dazed, his prick oozing more of the stuff that puddled in his hair to join what had leaked out of her mouth before she gave up. 

"I can't believe you did that," he panted. 

Debbie licked her palm and the heel of one hand, even though they looked clean by now. "That was fun," she said. "But I'm really horny now." She looked at her brother. "Would you do that ... for me?" she asked. 

Robby thought about that. He'd seen Semen doing that to his mother, and she had obviously loved it. But it seemed ... gross. Still, she had done it for him, and if his mother loved it, then maybe Debbie would love it too. He would do it for her ... even if he didn't really want to. 

He rolled to make room for her on the bed and she arranged herself like she had the previous day, opening herself wide for him. He got on his hands and knees and slowly let his face get closer to her sex as he looked closely at her pussy. He noticed things he'd never noticed before ... fine hairs sprouting above her clit. Her clit itself was enlarged and clearly visible. He looked at it closely and realized it looked something like the tip of his own cock, with a tiny foreskin and an even tinier prick head peeping out of that hood of skin. 

He sniffed. 

The guys at school had talked about fish smell, but she didn't smell anything like any fish he'd ever been around. Her scent was strong, but not bad. One time he'd sniffed her panties which she'd left in the hamper and this didn't smell anything like that had either. Her fingers appeared in front of his eyes, pulling her pussy lips open, showing him the dark cavern that they hid. He decided to touch the tip of his tongue to her clit first ... to see what the taste was like. He couldn't see, and he pressed his stiff tongue against the organ much harder than he had planned. 

"Ah..UHU!" she grunted and her hips thrust up off the bed, smashing into his face. 

Robby's face was wet with her juices. Her odor was all around him now, and his lips were wet. He licked them automatically and found a spicy pungent taste that wasn't anything like what he had expected. 

She tasted good! 

Robby thrust his mouth and nose into her pussy, this time intending to press hard. His tongue led the way, seeking that dark hole she had exposed, and finding it. He tried to stick his tongue into that hole as far as he could. Even if it was only an inch or a little more, her reaction was more than satisfactory. Her voice made a grating sound and she cried out, her hands gripping his hair painfully. The fact that they pulled turned what had sounded like pain into something that he knew she loved. She jerked her hips around so much that his face lost contact and bounced against the inside of one thigh. 

Robby went to his elbows, sliding his hands under his sister's buttocks and then he made an "o" of his lips and aimed for her clit. When he felt his lips close around it, he sucked and pulled her up into his face so she couldn't wiggle loose. Her clit came farther into his mouth than he thought it would and he found he could nip it with his teeth. Knowing that it would hurt if he bit her too hard, he alternated with sucking hard, nipping with his teeth, and swabbing it with his tongue. 



Debbie went crazy. She screamed and her arms and head flailed. She sat up and then flopped back down. Her voice sounded agonized, but with a tone that made it crystal clear she was not in agony. Her pussy provided so much juice as she came that his face made wet squelching sounds, like a foot in a shoe filled with water as someone walked in it. 

Debbie finally lay limp, her multiple orgasms having robbed her of the strength to do anything except drag breath into her lungs. Her legs lay akimbo, her pussy lips swollen with blood as Robby finally pushed himself away from her. He was painfully hard and, as he sat on his heels, he stroked his prick, staring at the luscious pussy he could still taste on his lips. Debbie looked up at him through her lashes, anticipating what she knew he'd do. And, when he groaned and leaned forward, she mustered the strength to lift her pussy up to meet his cock as it began unloading his semen-packed balls. He only meant to splash her pussy lips with his goo. But, as a half ounce of his thick spunk rocketed out of his prick, the head kissed those lips and sealed. All that spunk shot right up into her pussy. The only thing that saved what was left of her virginity was that, feeling that warm bath inside her pussy, she went weak again, and dropped her buttocks back to the bed. 



Then, as he collapsed on top of her, instead of his prick boring into her pussy, it lay at the gates and the rest of his spunk went where he'd intended it to go, soaking her pussy lips and mons as he continued to spurt.

[JEMMA]

Chapter Eight 

An hour had passed since the teens discovered the unbelievable pleasures of oral sex. Satisfied for the moment and cleaned up, Robby and Debbie entered the doors of the Hardcore County Public Library, where Penny, Head Librarian, proudly waited to serve the few customers who came her way. 

Penny had only graduated from college with her cherished library science degree about six months earlier. The placement service at the college had found her a job offer before she even graduated. That she'd landed a job as "head librarian" almost immediately had impressed her parents. What she hadn't told them was that it was in a hick town in a remote county that couldn't pay for more than one staff member. So while she was the "head" librarian, she was also the only librarian. Still, it was a job, and the cost of living in Naughty was workable, and she was basically thrilled. It would start her resumé, at least. 

Some of the thrill wore off when she realized there might actually be days when the only patron she served might be old Mr. Backside, who was retired and had nothing better to do than sit in the library and sleep with a book open in his lap. He did that pretty much every day, especially since the pretty young librarian had been hired. He was there today, in fact. Or perhaps the hospital would call and ask her to bring around a selection of books for the patients to read while they were laid up. It being summer time, no students came to do any research. They all had better things to do. 

So, when Debbie and Robby walked in, they got good service. 



Well, they got good service until Penny found out what they wanted. She could recite Dewey Decimal System numbers in her sleep, including history, but she quickly found that the history section of her library was a bit sparse when it came to history concerning the town, county and even state. There was a really nice selection of books on World War II which, she noticed, were actually in the wrong section, but she had nothing on the old house the town was named for. 

All three of them were so intent on searching for a book on the shelves that they were startled when old Mr. Backside shuffled up the aisle. 

"Couldn't help but hear what these young'uns wanted," he said, his voice a little too loud. "Ain't a goin' tuh find it here," he added. 

"Oh?" inquired Penny. 

"Yup" said Backside. "All that's down in tha basement," he slurred. "Madge packed it all away 'cause nobody ever wanted it." 

Madge was the previous head librarian, who had retired herself and never ever came to the library after she locked the doors the final time. 

"Ah kin show ya," he grinned. "Ah helped her put it down there." 

The Hardcore Public Library was, in reality, a house built in the 20's that had been taken over by the county for taxes during the Great Depression. Walls had been knocked down and replaced with pillars, making it into two rooms, one quite large and the other quite small. A bathroom had been added when inside plumbing came into vogue and the narrow steep wooden staircase still lurked behind a warped door in the wall that had been a kitchen wall in years past. The tiny kitchen now acted as an office. 

Penny had descended those stairs a couple of times since being hired, but she didn't go down there often. The books she had found down there weren't suitable for display, being musty, thick with absorbed moisture, and falling apart for the most part. There were boxes and boxes of records of who had checked out what over the years. Basically it was all junk, but the cobwebs kept Penny at bay. She hated spiders. Her original plans to clean it all out had been put on hold. 

Now, as she led the way down the stairs, and pulled the string that lit the bare bulb that hung by a cord from the floor joists above, she shivered. She made room for the kids, who came next, and Mr. Backside, who eased his aching joints down the stairs entirely too slowly to suit Penny. 

"Ain't as spry as I used to be," he mumbled, peering into the semi-darkness of the basement. "Should be over that-a-way." He pointed with a skinny finger, on which rested a discolored and too-long fingernail. 

"That-a-way" turned out to be a far corner, which very little light penetrated into. Penny looked at the kids, who looked perfectly at home, as if they prowled around in dusty, damp and cobwebbed environs on a regular basis. She shuddered again. 

"I don't want to get my clothes all dirty," she complained. 

"That's okay," said Robby. "I'll move anything that needs moving." 

Truth be told, they'd never have found anything if he hadn't been for Hornier Backside, who had a memory better than his appearance might have suggested. He shuffled unerringly to the far corner and pointed again. 

"Look behind them boxes there," he said. 

Robby had to move several boxes overflowing with old cards that had names scrawled on them, with dates after them. Why someone had kept them was a mystery, but had they been studied, they would have provided a remarkable history of what the townspeople of years gone by had read. Clouds of dust billowed into the air as Robby restacked boxes on top of other boxes. Finally he uncovered one battered wooden crate that was neatly packed with ledgers, a few books, and a number of yellowed newspapers. 

Penny directed them to take the crate upstairs, trying to get out of the basement as quickly as she could. Once upstairs again, they unpacked the wooden container on a table. Hornier lifted several of the folded newspapers and opened them with a surprisingly gentle touch. They all appeared to be editions of "The Naughty Crier". There were no pictures to speak of, but huge printed headlines were scattered all over the front, as well as some drawings that depicted various things, including advertisements for various medicines and other items for sale by merchants of the town. Debbie's eyes were drawn to a hand drawing of a woman wearing a hat and a dress just like Debbie had put on during dress-up play many times. It looked much more full below the waist than it did when Debbie wore hers. 

The ledgers turned out to contain information about the mines. One thin book, in surprisingly good condition was titled "The Naughty Empire". It was a handwritten history of the Naughty mining operation. The last entry said only, "Company sold in probate after the tragic incident." 



Penny, her curiosity whetted by actually having something to do, began leafing through the book, while Hornier pointed out various newspaper articles. 

"I 'member some of that now," he wheezed. "Sad times they were. Those poor little babies." 

"What babies?" asked Debbie. 

Hornier's eyes went out of focus. "They wuz two little 'uns left after the momma and daddy wuz killed. They caught them two what dun it and 'lectrocuted 'em. 'Lectrocuted the feller what hired 'em too. Bunch of us drove up to the pen'tentiary and stood outside to watch the lights dim. I wuz there when they fried. Saw the whole thing." 

"What?" asked Robby shocked. "What are you talking about?" 

"Killers ... hired killers" said Hornier explosively. "Snuck in thar and kilt the parents one night. They wuz a little boy and a little gurl in there when it happened. Found 'em hidin' somewhere in that old place. Them killers said they'd have dun fer the kids too if'n they'd a bin able tuh find 'em." He sighed. "Them kids found thar kin all slaughtered and raised the cry." 

Debbie gasped. She had been leafing through newspapers and pointed at one. 

"Here it is!" she said. 

Everyone peered at the huge type on the front page. 

"PILLARS OF COMMUNITY SLAIN IN VILE MURDER!" screamed the headline, which looked to be three inches tall and took up the top quarter of the page. The story went on to describe, in gruesome detail, what the town constable had found when he was summoned to the Naughty Mansion by a hysterical woman employed as a cook by the Naughty. The cook was in her room in the carriage house when Robert E. Naughty, age six and his sister Elizabeth R. Naughty, age four, burst into the room crying and covered in blood. She had fearfully gone with them to find their parents slaughtered in the master bedroom. The children had been hugging their dead parents, trying to get them to get up, and when that failed, had gone to get the cook. The investigation had revealed the house had been ransacked and a number of items appeared to be missing. All other staff members in the mansion had been gone that night to a dance in town. 

There was another article on the same page in one corner that reminded readers of the death of an unidentified Naughty boy at the hands of would-be kidnappers and, later, the murder of Constance Naughty in the very same room that this crime had taken place in, some forty years earlier. It was suggested that a demonic presence inhabited the house, and that this demon required history to repeat itself. 

The newspapers had been stacked in date order, and the next day's edition also had a banner headline. 

"MURDERERS CAUGHT RED HANDED!" That story told how a posse had been formed and had fanned out across the county using the technology of the day, the internal combustion automobile to speed them to points where a cordon had been established. When two blood spattered men carrying a gunny sack were observed, they were taken into custody and found to have the Naughty silver in the bag, as well as other items identified by servants as property of the slain Naughty. 

Another slightly smaller headline at the right lower corner of the front page said: 

"NAUGHTY ORPHANS REMOVED FROM SAD STRUCTURE." 

That story was about how there were no relatives to be found, and the children had been removed to a boarding house where they would be cared for until their murdered father's will could be located. That such an instrument existed was clear, since Mr. Wilfred, an attorney in the town, swore before the circuit judge that he had executed such a document within the last year. The will had not yet been found. 

In another paper with a later date, there was another front page story with a drawing of a man, strapped in a large wooden chair, his head hooded, with wires going from the chair to a wall. The story told of the swift trial and execution of the murderers, and the man who hired them to perform their grisly task. It also verified Hornier's assertion that the henchmen had admitted they'd have killed the children too if they'd been able to find them in the house. 

The next paper in line was dated five months later, with much smaller headlines, but still on the front page. That story told of the finding of the will. Details of what was in the will were sketchy, but the disposition of the two orphans was discussed, identifying one Margaret as having been identified in the will as the guardian of the children. 

The next paper didn't appear to have anything in it at first glance, but, on the inside they found a small article that had the headline: 

"Orphaned waifs' ordeal continues" That story told of Mrs. Margaret inability to care for the Naughty children due to her confinement to a sanitarium, and of their assignment of a new guardian. The entire article was no more than seven lines long. 

There were additional articles, quite small on average, that mentioned this or that milestone in a Naughty child's life. There was one that spoke of their entry into the public school system, using only "the Naughty children" as identifying data, and another one later that heralded Robert Naughty's graduation from school and his impending assignment as a missionary in "blackest Africa". 

[JEMMA]

By the time they were finished going through the main documents it was clear that, what had riveted the townspeople in the beginning, took on less and less significance as time went on. The last newspaper article they could find was about the house itself, and how two young men had been apprehended trying to sneak into it on a dare. The article said it had been shuttered up until the return of "the present owner", who was not identified by name. 

Debbie looked at her Bulova wristwatch. They had been reading for two hours, and there was a lot of materials in the crate no one had examined yet. 

"Miss MILF, can you keep this somewhere for us until we can come back?" she asked. 

Penny looked askance at the crate. "As far as I'm concerned you can take it all with you." She dusted her hands by clapping them together. "That doesn't really belong in the library," she pronounced. "If anything it should be in the museum or someplace like that ... if anybody wants it at all." She had, after all, only been in town for six months, and had no curiosity about the Naughty Mansion. In truth, she had never even been by the place. 

Debbie began repacking the crate immediately. She planned on taking it home and going through it more carefully. They had learned a lot, but she knew there was more information in there and she wanted to know that too. Robby carried the crate on his shoulder as they walked back to the house. 

Hornier Backside tried to accompany them, giving them unasked for advice. 

"You'uns stay clear of that place. It's hainted. The poor souls of all them murdered folk drift through there at night. Ah seen em mahsef." 

Debbie looked at him curiously. "When did you see them?" she asked. 

The old man smiled, revealing he had lost some teeth along the way. "Ah used to walk by there sometimes. Ah seen lights through them winders. Cain't nobody get in there any more. Them lights is the ghosts of all them Naughty, you mark mah words." 

Debbie had a pretty good idea of what those lights actually were. Those lights the old man had seen were from the candles she and Robby had used to explore. They hadn't thought anybody would be looking through the trees at the old place, and hadn't been all that careful about using those candles. 

"How cum ya'll want to know 'bout that place anyways?" asked Homer. 

"There's a man moving in there," said Debbie, still thinking of whether anyone else might have seen their candles. 

"Ya don't say!" said Hornier. "Well, he'd have tuh be a Naughty. They ain't never sold that house. It's got tuh be that little orphan boy iffen you ask me." He scratched at his beard. "Mov'in in there huh?" he mused. "I never heered 'bout that." 

Robby was uncomfortable at the man's interest in the manor. "I think it's supposed to be a secret or something," he said. 

Hornier stopped. His joints ached from all the walking they'd already done. He was thinking now about a pint of whiskey he'd hidden away at Miss Dick's boarding house, where he had a room, and where alcohol was strictly forbidden. "Wahl, you'uns member whut ah told yuh. They's ghosts 'round that place. And if they's a Naughty back there, then there'll be death 'round that place too. Mark mah words!" 

The two teens hurried on, leaving the old man behind. 

"You think he's right?" asked Robby, puffing a little. The crate was heavy and awkward on his shoulder. 

"He must be," said Debbie. "At least about it being a Naughty moving back in. That's what Mister Semen said. Who else would even want to?" she asked. "But that doesn't explain how she knows Smith. How could she have known him?" 

"I don't know, but didn't she say Semen had been gone somewhere for a long time. And didn't the paper say that boy went into the missionaries? Maybe Semen is the little boy!" Robby was excited now. 

"That still doesn't say how Mom would know him," said Debbie doubtfully. 

"Well, Mom's about the same age, and the paper said he went to public school. Maybe they went to school together." Robby sounded convinced already. 



By the time they got home they expected their mother within the hour. For some reason they didn't want to share what they'd found with her, so they hid the crate in the garage. They figured it would be safe there because that room was just slightly too full of junk to park the car in unless it was going to storm or hail or something like that. Just in case, they piled an old tarp on top of it. Then they had to clean up. Both had smudges on their skin and clothing from the dusty library basement. Robby wanted to play as they changed clothes and used wash cloths to clean their arms and faces, but Debbie pushed him away. 




"We don't have time. You'll have to be patient and wait." She smiled at the look on his face. Her mother kept telling her to be patient. Somehow it felt good to make somebody else wait for something he wanted too. She teased him by rubbing her hand across his crotch, and then ran, laughing from the bathroom as he gave chase.

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[JEMMA]

Ramona drove home quickly, speeding a little. She wanted to go see Robert again tonight ... couldn't wait to see him in fact ... but there were the children to deal with. She knew they were curious and sensed they were suspicious. If she didn't have an iron-clad reason to go visit "Semen" they'd get even more suspicious. She had played over and over again in her mind the various ways she could introduce "Semen" as their uncle, and had tried to imagine how she would tell them of their hidden heritage. In every scenario she had dreamed up it all fell to pieces. She had no idea how she'd end up doing it. There was dread in her about that. 

That dread, in juxtaposition with her excitement at meeting with Robert again ... being loved by Robert again ... made her jumpy and irritable during the day. Her co-workers chalked it up to her change of jobs, and to having to deal with the strange man who represented Robert Naughty. 

After having rushed to get home, when she parked, Ramona sat in the car for a few moments, ambivalent about getting out. She still hadn't thought of a way to break away from her children and go see Robert. It was when she reached for her briefcase that the idea came to her. 

She got out of the car to the sound of laughter and screams. Debbie came running around the corner of the house, looking over her shoulder, her hair flying. She was flushed and laughing and Ramona's heart lurched in her chest. Her daughter was so beautiful and healthy and carefree that it almost made her cry. She had to drop the briefcase and put her hands out to avoid being run down by her daughter, who didn't know that either her mother or the car were there. 

Just as Debbie ran into her mother's arms, Robby came charging around the corner too, growling and roaring like some kind of animal. But the look on his face was one of glee, and not anger. 

There was a general pile-up of bodies as Ramona was pushed up against the car by her two children. There were gasps and shouts from all three, who ended up in a group hug that wiggled and moved as Robby tried to tickle first his sister and then his mother too, growling again. 

"Stop!" laughed Ramona, pushing both of them away in self defense. Her children moved away from her, but eyed each other warily. 

"What on earth has gotten into you two?" she said, her heart thudding in her chest as the adrenaline rush of being run into subsided. 

"Robby was being mean to me," whined Debbie in a voice that made it clear she wasn't in the least bit angry or upset. 

"You'll know when I'm really being mean to you!" he growled. "I'll show you!" and he darted for her, his hands reaching for her ribs. 

Then she was off and running like a deer again, back around the same corner with Robby in full chase, like they were ten instead of almost grown. Ramona grinned and bent over to pick up her briefcase, shaking her head and going toward the door. Life was good, she decided, regardless of the ups and downs they were experiencing. Life was just pretty good. 

While their mother went into the house to fix supper Debbie led her brother on a chase into the woods next to the fence to the manor. She tripped on a root and flailed her arms for balance, going down on the soft humus covering of the forest floor. Naturally, Robby caught up with her. She gripped the black iron of the fence bars and gained her feet just as his hands went on either side of her, imprisoning her as his body crushed hers against the fence. 

"Got you!" he panted. 

"Only because I tripped," she said in a fake sulk. 

Her breasts rubbed against his chest as she, too, breathed in heavily. Her hands went to his waist. The chase had awakened something in them that their ancient ancestors might have felt during a pursuit like that. The purpose of their ancestors' chase, however, was not for fun and games, but to make sexual conquest. Debbie responded to that ancient drive. She had been caught, and she surrendered. She leaned forward to kiss her brother. 



Robby responded, and their kiss turned torrid as their hands roamed all over each other's bodies. The drive to reap the fruits of the chase was strong in both of them. As Debbie felt her brother's fingers ope n the last of the buttons of her blouse, though, a voice cut through the stillness of the forest. 

"What do we have here?" 

The teens sprang apart as if they had been goosed with a bare 220 volt wire, and whirled to find Semen, dressed in what they now knew was his disguise, his black hair and wild beard covering his face, and his body draped in the ill fitting black trench coat. 

"I have found two little rabbits, playing in my woods," said the gravelly voice, which they also knew was not the man's normal one. 

Both youths were wild eyed and panicked at having been caught in an amorous embrace. And this man knew they were brother and sister! Their world teetered on the edge of disaster. 

In such circumstances, there is a normal response the body makes. It is sometimes called the "fight or flight syndrome", and the body prepares itself automatically for either of those two options. Normally, that means the body, usually in its placid state, is infused with various hormones and chemicals on a more or less instant basis, and the results can be astonishing. Adrenaline is one of the primary hormones released during a stressful incident. Debbie's body had already produced a measurable quantity of adrenaline in the excitement of the chase and the expectation that sexual activity was going to occur. Now, the fright and anguish she felt gave her an extra shot. 



Basically, she was hopped up on hormones to the point that her response was to fight, rather than flee. A second consideration might have been that Semen was on the other side of the iron fence, providing a certain amount of unstated security. A third aspect of the confrontation was that her unconscious mind keyed in on Semen's use of the term "my woods", which was in direct contravention to how Debbie thought about "her woods". 

"You horrible old man!" she shouted, her mind relating to the disguise, rather than the much younger man who wore it. "How dare you spy on us in our woods!" In her frustration and rage at her present circumstances, she bent to the forest floor and her hand grabbed a fistful of matted leaves and soil, which she then flung through the bars. The detritus fluttered, expanding, and fell to the ground inside the fence, feet short of hitting the man. Her blouse gaped open, though only the creamy skin between her breasts was exposed. 

"I hate you. I hate you!" screamed the girl, stomping her feet in a tantrum of rage. "You're ruining everything!" 

Semen didn't move when she threw the handful of leaves at him. His beard made it difficult to tell what his face looked like, but it moved in ways that made it look like he was smiling. 

"Well, well, the little rabbit has fangs, she does." He stared at the two, looking at Robby, who was poised on the balls of his feet. "So you feel these are your woods too," he mused. "That, little rabbit is a very interesting thing to me. Perhaps you could tell me why that is the way you feel?" 

His complete dismissal of Debbie's hostile speech and actions were unsettling, as if he felt completely secure, and was neither offended or worried about them. And, adrenaline is a short acting hormone. It breaks down in the blood stream after releasing glucose for the muscles to use, leaving the host much weaker ... and just as suddenly as it made the host feel strong and ready to fight. 

But there was a little fight left in Debbie. She pulled her blouse together, buttoning two buttons without looking at them as her eyes blazed at Semen. 

"I wouldn't tell you anything!" she snarled. 

Semen's beard moved as if he were smiling again. "Well, then, perhaps your mother might be able to shed some light on this issue? Perhaps I should mention to her that I met you in ... your woods?" 

His unspoken threat to tell their mother just what he saw them doing in ... their woods ... hung heavily in the still air. 

Debbie looked stricken, her face red, and tears flushed her eyes so much she couldn't see. She used the heels of her hands to rub her eyes dry and felt fury that she cried in front of this man. Her emotions were at such a fever pitch though, that she was virtually speechless now. 

Robby stepped forward. "We've done nothing to harm you," he said, his voice heavy. "You have no call to ..." He couldn't put into words what changes Semen might be able to make in their lives. 

Semen, standing so placidly on the other side of the fence, shrugged his bulky shoulders. 

"It is not my intention to cause either of you pain," he said seriously. "Quite the opposite, in fact. But discussion of that must be for another time." He looked down the fence line in both directions. "I have my survey to finish. Perhaps we can discuss this at some time when emotions are not so high." 

Debbie's emotions were like the blips of a heart monitor, jumping from low to high, though in a much less steady beat than a healthy heart would make. 

"Please ..." she pleaded. "Please don't tell our mother." Tears ran down her cheeks. 

"Do not worry, little rabbit," said the man, turning to face down the fence line. "I may be a horrible old man, but I have a heart." 

Then, ignoring them, he trudged along the fence away from them. 

Left alone, the threat receding from them, and their sudden gift of strength just as suddenly gone, the teens slumped. Debbie flowed into her brother's arms, but this time it was for comfort, rather than erotic thrill. 



"What are we going to do?" she moaned. It was a question she was asking a lot these days, but it didn't seem to have an answer.

[JEMMA]

Chapter Nine 

Ramona noticed the subdued demeanor of her children at supper. Gone was their carefree exuberance and the laughter that went with it. She started to ask them what was wrong, but decided not to. In some ways her children seemed like strangers lately, but she chalked that up to puberty and the inner turmoil that all teenagers faced sooner or later as they grew to adulthood. 

She had been happy that they were so light-hearted, since she thought that would be a buffer to her announcement that she had some papers for Semen to sign and needed to take them to him that night. The result of her statement, made in passing, was not what she'd expected. She'd expected Debbie to make some snide comment about Semen, or object in some way. She'd expected Robby to just sit, silent, as he did so often when Semen was discussed. 

Instead, Debbie turned red and shifted in her chair silently. It was Robby who spoke. 

"I thought that was your job," he said, his fork suspended halfway to his mouth. "Why didn't you take them to him today?" He, too, looked uncomfortable, but not angry. 

Ramona hadn't thought she'd be questioned like that, and her mind scrabbled for a believable answer. 

"Well ... um ... they weren't ready in time," she said. 

Robby, of course, knew exactly why his mother wanted to go see Semen. And, while the sight of the man rutting into his beautiful mother turned him on, it was also distasteful in some way he couldn't understand. The image of his mother's milky white breasts shaking as the man slammed into her was burned into his memory, as was her assent to being impregnated. That just wasn't the woman who was sitting across the table from him now, and he didn't want her to go be that woman again. 



"So, have him sign them tomorrow," he said, his voice tinged with surliness. 

"I need to process them tomorrow," said his mother. "And I'm right here, next door. It'll save time if I take care of them tonight." She couldn't understand her children’s resistance to this, and it was a pivotal part of her plan to see her brother more often. She pushed that plan. 

"In fact, I plan on seeing him a lot while I'm here at home. It's so much quicker than driving all the way over here during the day and wading through all those contractors." It sounded eminently reasonable to her, despite the fact that the bank was only six blocks from the manor. 

"Yeah, right," said Robby heavily. 

What was running through his mind was the fact that Semen knew the twins didn't like him, and that Semen had a piece of information that could ruin things even more than he had ruined things already. It was inevitable, based on what she had been doing with him, that she would see him again. It was also inevitable, in Robby's mind, that he would tell her what he had seen. At the same time, he hadn't seemed offended or outraged by what he'd caught them doing, and that seemed odd somehow too. His statement that he meant the siblings no harm also twisted in Robby's mind, because it didn't make sense either. Debbie had all but declared war on him, but he acted like nothing was wrong. 

Ramona wanted to hear assent from her children ... to have their permission to go next door more or less regularly, and because of that, she heard Robby's comment as grudging acceptance that her plan did, in fact, make sense. She missed completely the ambivalence flashing across her son's face. 

Ramona made herself wash the dishes before she went to see her brother. While she felt no shame or guilt for what they shared, she knew that her feelings were driving her and she didn't like the feeling of not being in control. There had been a lot of upheaval in her world of late, and "deciding" what to do and when to do it helped her cope with the sensation of being adrift on a sea with no rudder. 

But, as soon as her hands were dry, she picked up her briefcase and sang out that she'd be back in a while. Not waiting for an answer she hurried out to the car. She could have walked, but she felt like driving up to the house would look better in case some passerby saw her enter the estate. 

As she sat in the car her pussy was already getting wet.



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[JEMMA]

Debbie had been keeping tabs on her mother, and as soon as she heard the car door slam she ran to her brother's room. He was lying on the bed, a book open, but his eyes were staring at the ceiling. 

"Come on" she said, her voice hushed for some reason. "She's going over there." 

"Why should we go?" he asked, his voice dull. "We know what she's going to do." 

"He might tell her!" she snapped. "We have to know if he tells her! Now come on!" 

Debbie grabbed his wrist and pulled as he sat up and rolled off the bed. When they got outside she kept pulling him as he tried to lag. 

"Come on Robby!" she snarled. "You want me to go by myself?" 

For some reason the idea of Debbie being in the house alone ... with Semen there ... didn't sit well with Robby. He increased his pace. Soon they were slipping through the woods behind the house. It wasn't dark yet, and they had to wait while they surveyed the back of the house. Even more had changed since the last time they'd been there. The house was beginning to look like a house, rather than the wreck it had been ever since they'd put their eyes on it. Eventually they felt safe in going out into the open to reach the cellar steps. 

They darted down into the cellar and stopped only long enough to let their eyes adapt a little bit to the darkness. Then it was through the secret door and down the tunnel to the thick door with the ring on it. They eased it open to minimize the squeal of the hinges. Robby made a mental note for possibly the fifth or sixth time to bring oil with him the next time he came. 

At the top of the stairs they stopped, unconsciously trying to get their breathing under control before going further. Debbie stepped forward first. She felt the slight tug as her ankle hit something, but the sensation went away almost immediately as the thread that had been stretched across the narrow hallway snapped. There was the sound of a dull thud up ahead of them somewhere, but no other noises, and they crept forward. 

They heard voices in the dining room and stopped to see their mother standing, her briefcase hanging from one hand, her arm straight as Semen, without his disguise this time, kissed her firmly. His right hand cupped her left breast through her blouse. 



When the kiss was over she sighed. 

"I told the kids there were papers to be signed. I told them I'd have to do that a lot." 

"Much has changed, dear Rami" said the man. "Things may not need to be kept secret much longer. I have much to tell you." 

Both teens took in panicked breaths of air at that, but they had no chance to do more. 

"Then tell me in the bedroom," said their mother salaciously, "as we do what I love most in the world." 



She set down the briefcase and pulled her lover toward the stairs, much like Debbie had pulled her own brother out of the house and toward the manor only moments before. There was more talk, but the kids were already moving toward the staircase that would lead them to the bedroom where they had witnessed what was about to happen again to their mother. They pressed their faces against the peep holes as their mother and Semen entered the room. Debbie's gut tightened as she saw that her mother's blouse was already unbuttoned, and that she had worn no bra to go "have papers signed." Another lie. She'd known it, of course, but the sight of her mother's real intentions made a knot in her stomach. 



Semen, though, was not looking at his lover. Instead, his head swiveled around the room, his eyes low. 

"Oh look" he said calmly. "A picture has fallen from the wall." 

"Never mind that Bobby, I need you now," demanded Ramona, shrugging her blouse off and draping it across a chair. "Wouldn't you rather look at me than some old picture?" she asked coquettishly. 

Now Semen's eyes went to his sister. 

"Most assuredly" he said, smiling. He went to her and leaned over to suckle at an exposed and stiff nipple, his hand smoothing across the buttocks of her slacks. He kissed his way up to Ramona's lips as her fingers went to the buttons of his own shirt and began undoing them. 



Robby, his gut tight too, couldn't, for some reason, watch his mother being ravished again. He hadn't yet analyzed the emotions associated with watching his beautiful mother be made love to. He hadn't yet realized that the twisting in his guts was because some part of him wanted to be the man rutting into her soft, white body. He pushed back from the wall as emotions raced through him and suddenly realized his prick was stone hard. His eyes went to his sister and he automatically retreated into something that brought them both pleasure ... something that made the world feel right. He stepped behind her, reaching around to cup her breasts and press his erection into her buttocks, which were jutted out as she leaned forward to peer through the peep holes. 



"What are you doing?" she hissed. 

"I don't want to watch them," he said. "I'd rather do this to you." 

His hands slid to her waist and up under her shirt to her own unfettered breasts, feeling for and squeezing her nipples slightly. 



"Not here," she moaned. "Not now." 

She was trying to listen, though, and Semen was saying something. She didn't have the time to make her brother stop. And the feelings coursing through her loins at what she was witnessing made what he was doing feel wonderful too. 

"Shhh," she said to the wall, even though it was she who was making the most noise. "They're saying something." 

Robby let his hands play across his sister's breasts, squeezing them and flicking the nipples, which stood up proudly to be squeezed and flicked. He pulled her shirt up to give his hands room to move without catching in the cloth and bunched it under her arm pits. She ground her buttocks against his hardon and he let his hands slide down her flat stomach to the fastening of her jeans shorts. 



"Nooo," she whined. 

"Come on," he whispered in her ear. "It'll feel good. What are they saying?" 

What Semen was saying was: "Slow down, my sweet. As I said I have much to tell you." 

Ramona wasn't interested in talk. She wanted her pussy stuffed, and her clitty abused. 

"I can't stay long," she moaned. "Can't it wait?" 

"I don't think so," he said, cupping her breasts, unable himself to keep his hands off her. "I think your children know more than they have admitted." 

That caught Debbie's full attention and she froze as Robby got her shorts unbuttoned and started to slide his hand into her panties. Her automatic, completely unthinking response was to step to one side with each foot, giving his fingers room to play. But her attention was all on Semen. 



"What?" her mood interrupted by mention of her children, Ramona's passion eased a bit. "What do you mean?" 

"I told you someone had been in this house. Now I have reason to believe it's your children," he said flatly. 

"What?!" asked Ramona, astonished. "That's impossible!" she said automatically. 

Robby, not knowing what was being said, let his middle finger slip between his sister's slick labia and felt for her joy button while his other hand went back to cup a breast. Debbie, too enraptured by what she was hearing to pass the words along to her brother, held her breath. 



"I saw them by the fence this afternoon," he said. 

Debbie felt terror so great that what her brother was doing to her didn't penetrate her consciousness at all. 

"That doesn't mean they've come in this house," said Ramona. "They've played in the woods since they were children." 

"Played ..." said Semen. "An interesting word, that." He looked directly at the bookcase, behind which Debbie and Robby were standing, as if he somehow knew she was there and watching. 

Debbie pushed off the wall, against her brother's unyielding body. His back hit the opposite wall because there was nowhere else for him to go. 

"He's going to tell her," said Debbie, her voice choked. 

"What?" asked Robby, thinking so intently about where his hand were, and how good if felt to feel her butt pressing against him, that he couldn't concentrate fully on what she'd just said. 



Because Debbie had backed up, she didn't hear what Semen said next. It probably wouldn't have made any difference anyway, based on what happened next. There wouldn't have been time to do anything about it. 

"Rami, darling, don't you remember the passages? The secret ways?" 

Ramona's head snapped backward as if she had been slapped. Her last memory of the house was stepping quietly through the secret hallway between the walls, as her parents screamed. They had hidden there as the screams turned to gurgling moans and then stopped. They had waited in the dark until they had heard no noises for a long time. Robert had just barely been able to reach the release that let them through the wall into their parents' bedroom. There had been bright red spatters everywhere, but they hadn't understood it was blood. Blood came in small drops, from the prick of a thorn, not in amounts so much that it looked like paint. She remembered her mother's eyes, open and staring, but her mother wouldn't say anything. That's what had frightened Ramona, and when she had started crying. 

She shook her head. She hadn't thought of the secret places in the house for a long long time. She watched as Robert suddenly stepped toward the bookcase and reached for the hidden latch. 

Debbie, horrified by what she was sure was about to be told to her mother, leaned forward again just in time to see Semen, facing her, his body only a foot away. There was a loud snap, and then a creak, and the wall in front of her moved away from her face. She fell forward as the support she had been depending on disappeared. Only her brother's hands, one cupping her naked breast, and the other with its finger buried in her pussy, saved her from falling forward. 



She squinted as she was suddenly bathed in light. 

“Ahhhh, said Semen in his disguised gravelly voice. “The rabbits have returned.”

[JEMMA]

Ramona looked unbelievingly at what was exposed when the bookcase swung open on creaking hinges. There, to her astonished gaze, was revealed her daughter, whose shirt was up around her neck. Her arms were out in front of her like she had pushed the bookcase open. Ramona’s mind did a little dancing twist. Something wasn’t right here. She was finally able to process the information that, despite the fact that both of Debbie’s hands were in plain sight, there was a hand cupping one of her naked breasts and another hand that was down in the opening of her shorts, which were unbuttoned and unzipped! 



Ramona reeled as the body behind her daughter moved and a head appeared over Debbie’s shoulder she recognized as Robby. The concept that her son was standing behind her daughter, and that he was feeling her breast and had his hand stuck down her pants was strange enough. The fact that they were in the secret passageway of the Naughty Mansion made it all surreal. Then, the fact that she was standing topless in the same house, and that her children could see that, flipped some switch in her brain that suggested a light nap might be in order. Consciousness left her, her vision fading into black as she crumpled to the floor. 

At first Debbie couldn’t see anything because the sudden light made her pupils slam closed. She knew, though, that Semen and her mother could see her and she was suddenly aware of exactly where Robby’s hands were. She gave a little shriek and slapped at the hand holding her breast, hitting the breast instead, which hurt. Robby’s hand jerked away, though, and she pulled at his other hand, dragging it out of her pants. Her vision began to sharpen about the time her mother’s collapsing body came into focus. 



“Mommy!” she screamed, and lurched forward into the room, brushing past Semen as if he didn’t exist. 

Robby stumbled forward too as the pressure pushing his back against the wall vanished and he found himself face to face with Semen. Well, perhaps face to face wasn’t the best term, since Semen’s face was turned toward Robby’s mother, who was lying in an boneless pile on the floor. Both men surged as one toward the fallen woman. 

By the time they got there Debbie was already kneeling, hovering over her mother’s body, her fingertips touching Ramona’s face as she cried “Mommy! Mommy! What's wrong?” 

Semen knelt beside her, moving Ramona’s arms around to a more comfortable position, laying her out on her back. 

“I think she has only fainted. Seeing you two was more than she could deal with.” he said, his face beside Debbie’s. 

“She looks dead!” wailed Debbie. 

“No” said Semen forcefully. “See, she breathes.” He placed his hand flat on their mother’s naked chest, between her breasts. Ramona moaned and her head rolled to one side. 



Debbie slapped at Semen’s arm forcefully. 

“Get your hands off her!” she yelled. “This is all your fault!” 

Semen rocked back on his calves. “Everything is my fault, eh little rabbit?” 

“And stop calling me that!” yelled Debbie, turning her pale face up with a horrible grimace. 

“What then should I call you?” he asked, not at all disturbed by her anger. 

“Help my mother!” demanded Debbie. 

“Perhaps you should close your pants before she awakens.” suggested Semen. “I think perhaps seeing your brother’s hands on your beautiful body may have been part of why she is like this.” 

The shock of his words hit Debbie as if he’d slapped her. She jumped to her feet and fumbled frantically with her shorts, re-fastening what Robby had undone. Then she tugged at her shirt, pulling it back down to cover her breasts. She was about to shout at the man again when her mother’s hazel eyes opened. 

“Debbie?” she said, as if she wasn’t sure it really was her daughter. Then her eyes went to the man beside her. “Bobby?” 

“I’m here my sweet.” he said soothingly. 

Ramona smiled, still not back to the present completely. A face appeared over her brother’s shoulder, peering down at her anxiously. 

“Robby?” she said, her voice dreamlike. Then: “Bobby, why are my children here?” 

“I think they’ve been spying on us my darling,” said Semen, as if he were only saying that perhaps it would be good to have tomatoes with supper. 

“Spying?” came Ramona’s plaintive reply. Her eyes cleared suddenly. The transition was stark and obvious and astonishing. 

“Spying?!” she gasped. She lifted her head and saw her own naked breasts. The magnitude of what was happening penetrated and she rolled over, covering her head with her arms. She began sobbing, her naked shoulders shaking as if she were a rat in a terrier’s jaws. 



Debbie’s primary concern, up to that point, had been that she and Robby had been caught, and that her mother would suddenly hate her for what they’d done. That self-centeredness was normal for a teenager, for a human at almost any stage of development. And, when her mother began sobbing, she naturally believed that it was from the disappointment she had just been exposed to. Her mother’s emotion dislodged all her own, and she began to sniffle and cry too. Her anguish grew as she realized that all her secrets were about to be made bare, exposed to the mother she loved. She couldn’t bear keeping them any longer though and she collapsed on top of her mother, sobbing herself and begging for forgiveness. She was crying so hard that she couldn’t make her words intelligible, but she confessed to everything she could think of that she had done to disappoint her mother, begging for forgiveness. 



The men watched as the firestorm of emotion swept through the women. Robby felt twinges of guilt, but not anything even close to what his sister was going through. Some of that was because, while he had been caught with his hands in his sister’s pants, he had also caught this other man having sex with his mother. Robby, as the man of the family, acknowledged or not, felt quite a bit of ownership over his mother and had no problem whatsoever interceding for her if he perceived she was in some kind of danger or stress. 



On the other hand, he recognized that their mother, being caught as she had been, must feel like she had let her children down. He agreed with that, though he couldn’t articulate why, but he loved her, and his forgiveness for that aspect of things was both sincere and immediate. 

The only person present who was not in a Gordian knot of emotional turmoil was Robert Naughty, who among all of them, was the only person who knew that sooner or later, when all this was sorted out, there would be many more smiles and many fewer tears. 

Or so he hoped. 

He turned to look at Robby, whose attention was on his mother. This was the first chance Robert had had to really examine the boy. He was a strapping lad, that much was plain, with strong features ... Naughty features. There were old photographs put away in this house somewhere that, he thought, would look a lot like this boy. The dress in those pictures would be different, of course, but there would be no doubt that this boy was a Naughty. 



He couldn't see much of the girl, hunched over her mother as she was. He had looked at her closely when he had been to their home for that one disastrous meal. She bore some resemblance to her mother, enough that one would guess they were related, but she didn't really look much like Ramona had when she had been that age. Ramona, in those days, had maintained a hunched, banal appearance. She had wanted to blend in, to be overlooked. This girl could not be overlooked. She was fresh and vibrant and beautiful in a way that made a man's pants feel tight. And what a temper she had. Her flashing eyes could cut deep if she wanted them to. 



He turned to the boy. "See to your mother," he commanded. 

Robby jerked at the tone of command, and flashed a dagger-like look at the man. 

"She needs to know you still love her," added Robert. 

Robby's eyes widened. "Of course I still love her," he said. "But she probably doesn't love me any more." 

"I suspect you are quite wrong in that assumption," said Robert. "That we will see soon enough. But now she needs you." 

Robby went and knelt by his mother and sister, placing a hand on Debbie's back and his mother's naked shoulder. Her skin felt warm and smooth, like his sister's. 

Robert went to the discarded blouse and picked it up, taking it to stand beside the three members of the family. He handed it to Robby. 

Ramona felt her daughter's body pressing on her back, and her daughter's tears falling on her naked skin. Debbie's litany of, "I'm so sorry, Mommy", said over and over again penetrated her consciousness. She felt surprise, and welcomed it as it displaced a measure of her own shame. That helped her think a bit more clearly, and it suddenly popped into her mind that her daughter ... her children ... were here ... in the mansion ... in the secret passageway she hadn't thought of since that horrible night when her brother had led her through it to hide from the screams. 



Her head twisted to the side and she tried to look through her hair, which was stuck to her face by her tears. 

"What are you doing here?" she moaned between sobs. 

Debbie wasn't in much better shape. She was experiencing a wide range of emotions. There was the anger at Semen, the remnants of the hormones the lust her brother's hand had caused to flood through her as he had stroked her behind the wall, the shame of being caught peeking, the shame of being caught with her brother's hands on her body, the surprise and shock of being exposed in general, and the fear that her mother wouldn't love her any more. They all added up to a condition that almost left her paralyzed, and she couldn't speak clearly. Instead she just clung to her mother. 



Robby felt a lot of those emotions too, but they didn't affect him quite as strongly as they did his sister. What bubbled to the surface of his mind was Smith's insistence that his mother needed him. He held out her blouse, dangling it over the pair of women on the floor, but didn't know what to do next. 

It was Robert who brought a measure of organization to the chaos that was immobilizing the three of them in the room. 

"Here!" he said forcefully. "Rami, sit up." His hand went gently to Debbie's shoulder and put pressure on it to get her off her mother's body. She was so upset that she didn't even think to slap at that hated hand, or demand that he remove it. She rose to her knees, exposing her mother's naked back. 

"Rami!" said Robert, again, forcefully. "Your son has your blouse." 



Ramona brushed her hair away from her face and saw Robby then, the blouse dangling from his hand as he knelt beside her. That blouse would cover her nakedness, and her brain suggested she should get it quickly. She pushed herself off the floor, sitting and exposing her nakedness to her son as she snatched at the garment. He took it back and spread it behind her, as if he were helping her put on a coat and she shrugged into it, pulling it closed across her breasts. Her fingers fumbled at the buttons. She kept her head down, unable to look at either of her children. 

"I don't understand," she moaned. 

"Things are not as they seem," said Robert. "Things are not as bad as they seem," he restated. 

That was such an odd statement that all three of the others turned their faces to stare at him. 

"Come" he said. "All of you. We have much to discuss. Then, perhaps you will understand." 

He moved toward the door, to lead them out of the bedroom. They hesitated, but, unable to make their own decisions about what to do next, they began to follow him. He led them to the dining room, which had enough chairs for them all and pulled one out for Ramona. 

"Sit down," he suggested, and she sank into the chair. 

He pulled another one out for Debbie, who balked and stepped away from him. 

"Sit!" he commanded. 

Debbie looked at Robby, whose face was slack, as if he weren't all there. 

"Sit!" thundered Robert. 

Debbie sank quickly into the chair and sighed with relief as Semen stepped away from her. 

"You too young man" he said. "Sit, and we'll talk." 

Finally Debbie's voice was under her control. 

"Talk?!" she yelled. "All this has happened and you just want to talk?" 

"You wish to know who I am, correct? You wish to know why your mother and I love each other, yes? You have many questions. I think talking is a good thing at this time," he said simply. 

Debbie was speechless. It was true that she wanted to know all those things. But his clear offer to answer them was so unsuspected, that she was unprepared to actually ask a question. 

"And," he went on smiling. "I think your mother should understand what she just saw, and what I saw earlier today." It was clear, at least to the children, that he was referring to the unconventional relationship Debbie had with Robby. 

Debbie slumped, and the fear that had abated returned full force. 

Ramona listened to her brother's words, and she was reminded of what she had seen ... her son's hands ... on her daughter's body ... touching her sexually. What had he said about earlier? 



"What?" she asked. Her head felt like there was a hive of bees inside it, and she couldn't think because of all the buzzing thoughts that caromed around in her brain. "What happened earlier?" 

"I told you I saw them by the fence this afternoon." 

Ramona nodded, straining to remember what else he had said. 

"They were embracing," he said, and then paused, almost as if he were teasing. "They were kissing." 



Debbie's head went down. Robby looked around wildly, as if he were looking for a good place to hide. 

The effect this had on Ramona was startling. Her head came up sharply and she brushed her hair from her eyes, which were wide with comprehension, at last. 

"Kissing?" she said, almost in a whisper. 

"Yes ... kissing," said Robert. "I found it most interesting, my sweet." 

"But that means ..." Ramona said. 

"That means they are like us," said Robert gently. 

That statement didn't make any sense to either of the teens, but there was something in Semen's voice that caused both of them to turn their eyes to him. They said nothing, but just stared. 

"I thought about the signs that someone had been in the mansion. The only way they could have gotten in was through the secret ways, so I examined them and found many footprints in the dust. I thought that, if it was your children, they might have used the secret ways to try to spy ... and that they might have seen things they do not understand." 

Everyone was still staring at him, captivated by his words. 

"And so I set a trap, suspending that picture," he pointed back toward the room they had left, "by a thread that would be broken if anyone used the secret ways. When I saw that you were here, and that the picture had fallen, I suspected I would find the spies behind the wall." He grinned. "It appears I was correct." 

Then he quit smiling. 

"I think it is time they learned who I am," said the man called Semen. 

Even though he was the one talking, both children's eyes went immediately to their mother, who was sitting upright, and looking much less unhappy than they expected her to. While she was not smiling, she was at least composed, and her crying had vanished as if it had never been there except for a slight darkness to her eyes and the shine of tears on her cheeks. 



Ramona wiped at that dampness, her eyes going from her son's eyes to her daughter's. She took a breath. 

"Children, I'd like to introduce you to my brother ... your uncle ... Robert Naughty."

[JEMMA]

Chapter Ten 

Ramona's pronouncement that not only was Semen ... not Semen ... but he was their uncle struck both teens so dumb that the only sound anyone heard for most of 30 seconds was that of breath being drawn raggedly into lungs and then expelled. 

Debbie managed to make the first noise. "But we don't have an uncle!" she gasped. 

"Am I then a ghost?" asked Robert, smiling. "Perhaps one of the ghosts you say inhabit my house?" 

There was, despite the emotion and uncertainty of the moment, a subtle shift in Debbie's thinking. Her rational brain accepted that this man was Robert Naughty, whatever that meant. She didn't believe her mother would simply lie to her about that. While she didn't understand what that meant yet, her mind did accept that this was a Naughty, and that he had the right to say it was "his" house. 

"You're her brother?!" choked Robby. 

Robert kept smiling and addressed Robby. "I am." 

Ramona, after getting her last sentence out of her mouth, had been unable to go on. She hadn't been prepared to tell her children about Robert, much less about what she and Robert shared. But, during the silence and interchange between the children and Robert, she had thought frantically about his statement ... that Debbie and Robby had been kissing in the woods ... and what she had seen them doing as the bookcase was opened. She had thought about what that meant, and it allowed her to go on. 



"Children," she started, her voice that of a mother. "My sweet darlings," she said, altering her voice to try to express the love and excitement that was welling in her chest. "I couldn't tell you about Robert. There were ... difficulties. I didn't tell you about so many things. I was worried that it would affect you badly. I have so much to tell you I don't know where to start." 

"Naughty!" said Debbie suddenly. "Robert Naughty!" She looked at the man in awe. "You're the little boy ... your parents ... you found them ..." Her face filled with grief at what this man's memories must contain. 

Robert's face didn't smile now. "Your grandparents. Yes, Rami and I found them. It was a bad time." 

"No!" said Debbie just as suddenly. "Your sister's name was Elizabeth. We read it in the papers!" 

"Papers?" asked Ramona, not understanding. 

"Yes!" said Debbie. "At the library. They had old newspapers. They had stories in them about what happened. We read them," she said, looking wonderingly at her ... uncle." She looked at her mother, her face twisted with questions. "The papers said Robert and Elizabeth Naughty. And your maiden name was Sucks." She shook her head, denying what she had been told in this room. 

Robert held up his hand. "Be at peace child. We can explain all this to you." 

"I'm not a child!" Debbie said, her anger sudden and hot. 

"No," mused her uncle, looking at her in a way that made her feel uncomfortable. "I suppose you are not, at that." He smiled again. "You are a beautiful young woman. Please accept my apologies." 



He stared at her a little longer. Then, "Your mother changed her name after the ... when we were in foster care. Things were very difficult for us then. People thought we carried some kind of curse. We were in boarding school for some years, and when we came back we didn't talk much about who she was." 

Ramona joined in, having something now she could talk about. 

"He didn't care. About our name, I mean. I wanted to forget everything. We went first to a place that was horrible, and they wouldn't let me see Robert. I hated that place. Then, suddenly they took us to live with a nice woman, who cared for us and loved us. She was so nice to us. But then she got sick and had to go away. Our new guardian was a cold man, and there were other children in the house who treated us badly. They called me names." 

She trailed off, her face sad. Then she went on. 

Even at the boarding school people looked at me strangely when they heard my real name. So when our guardian suggested that I take his name I agreed. Anything that would cause people not to stare at me I thought was a good thing. I began using my middle name too, Ramona, instead of Elizabeth. All I wanted was to be invisible ... to be left alone." 



Debbie's heart was breaking at the story. She realized there were unshed tears in her eyes. 

"Why didn't you ever tell us?" she asked. "Daddy never said anything either." 

"I never told your father who I was," said their mother. "When we married and he brought me to our new home he had no idea it was next door to the place I hated more than anywhere else in the world. I couldn't tell him. He was so proud of our new home and we loved each other. Then, when you were so young he was taken from us. I blamed the house ... this house. Maybe we are cursed." She gave in a low cry. 

"Nonsense!" said Robert. "Things happen in this big wide world. Some are good and some not. Life is what you make of it. You were happy with Richard, yes? And your wonderful children? Did they not make you gloriously happy?" 

"Of course" said Ramona sitting up straighter. "They were my whole life." 

"And all that happiness took place next to this house, did it not?" he pressed. 

"Well, yes, but ..." 

"That is why I came back here," he said. "I knew that I could find happiness here, near to you. And I knew that if, for some reason you were not happy, I could give you happiness." It was an egotistical statement to make ... the assumption that her happiness depended on him. 



Yet, he spoke mere fact. Both of them remembered the only happiness they had experienced as they were growing up in a harsh world, the happiness they felt when they were together. And, while their sexual passion for each other was unbridled, that was not the primary reason for their happiness together. They shared so many things that no one else in the world could understand. Their bond had been forged with a heavy hammer, and they were welded together beyond anyone's ability to separate. To Ramona, his statement did not come as one of self importance. 

Still, she had spent a long time alone, with only her children. 

"You took your time coming back to make me so gloriously happy," she commented dryly. 

He actually bowed to her. It was a movement that looked natural to him, as if he had been raised in an environment where bowing was normal. 

"I wanted to come sooner, but could not. When you stopped writing I used some of my money to have men check on you." He smiled at her reaction to having been survielled without her knowledge. "I know, it was a terrible thing to do, but I had to know whether you were well or not. I lived in the most squalid conditions, with people who had only two sticks to rub together to make fire. When the reports came that you were doing well, I knew that those people needed me more than you did. When they were finally able to feed themselves, and had the knowledge to carry on, I came here instead of finding another destitute village. I found that I needed you, as much as I thought you might need me." 

[JEMMA]

That speech brought back into the light what the children had peeked at those several times ... what they had been spying upon when they were caught. 



"But ..." squeaked Debbie, "You're brother and sister!" 

"As are you two," said Robert smoothly. 

That caused both teens to blush and avert their eyes. 

Ramona was thinking what they were thinking. 

"How could this happen? Between you two I mean?" she asked. 

"How did it happen between us?" asked Robert, looking at her intently. 

"That was different. We were alone in the world. You gave me love and tenderness," she said. 

"Is it so different for two children who have lost their father to accident, rather than crime?" asked her brother. "They have still lost their father, and are growing up alone in one sense. The world is just as harsh a place today as it was then. They have fared better, perhaps, but it has still been difficult for them." 



He turned his eyes on the children. 

Robby found his voice. He was amazed by all he had heard, and had been content just to listen. But now he spoke. 

"Our lives have been wonderful," he said. "I hardly remember my father. We have no complaints at all!" 

"This is wonderful for me to hear," said their newly discovered uncle. "Perhaps I have spent too many years with people who had to struggle every minute to make their lives bearable. I know I felt as if I were more blessed than possible when I saw what they had to live like day in and day out. Perhaps I am jaded." 



"I still need you," said Ramona. She darted a glance at her children. While their lives might have been carefree, hers had not. She didn't know how to explain that to them without making it sound like they weren't worth everything she'd had to go through. 

"You have to understand," she said to them. "I wouldn't change anything if it meant that you would disappear from my life. I love you more than life itself. But I have never loved a man like I love this man." 

"Not even Daddy?" asked Debbie, who had only the vaguest fragmented memories of the man she had just named. 

"I loved him," said Ramona firmly. "He loved me and saved my life. He gave me you two, and you saved my life when he was taken from us. It's hard for me to explain, but when we were little, Robert saved my life too. Without Robert I would have wasted away and died of a broken heart. I love him too, and I always will. I cannot change that." 



"This is all so strange," said Debbie. She looked at the man who, until an hour ago she had called "Semen" and hated. Now she didn't know how to feel about him. She had a sudden thought. 

"Then this is our house!" she yipped. She realized how that sounded and restated it. "I mean, our grandparents lived here, and you lived here, Mommy. That's your bedroom upstairs ... the one with the girl's things in it!" She looked at her uncle. "And the one with the toys! That one was your room!" 

"How do you know all this?" cried her mother. She suddenly remembered them in the secret passageway. "How did you know about the secret places?" 

That led to another hour of discussion and explanation as the children confessed to their countless trips to the house, how they'd found the bent place in the fence, and then the root cellar and its secret tunnel. They talked about the games they played. They left out the sexual games - that was still something they were uncomfortable discussing - but described how they had found things, and what they had thought of the things they found, and how they had felt at home here, like they belonged in this place. 



"I never knew," said Ramona. "My own children, spending hours and hours here and I never knew!" 

"We were afraid you would have forbidden us to come back if you ever caught us," said Debbie. 

"You were right," said their mother firmly. "I would most certainly have done that. I can't believe you kept that secret from me!" 

"Like you kept the secret of who that horrible bearded man was when he came to our house? When he ruined everything?" Debbie shot back. Then her head jerked as she realized what she'd said. "I mean it's not really ruined, I guess. But it was then." She got flustered. 



"I always hoped that once this place was restored to its original condition that I might lure your mother and you to live here with me," said their uncle. "I hadn't planned on suggesting that until you had gotten to know me, but such is life." 

And that led to another hour of discussion about why the disguises and subterfuge had all been necessary when Robert first came back ... was still necessary for another few weeks at least. 

And that led to an attempt to discuss, on the part of the kids at least, where the money was coming from to do the extensive restoration that was going on. Neither of the teens was stupid, and they knew that it was going to cost more money than they could imagine to complete the task. 

"Your Grandfather's fortune was passed on to us," said Robert simply. 

"I don't know about you," said Debbie, "but we certainly don't have any fortune." 

She looked at her mother, who was looking at her folded hands on top of the dining room table. 

Ramona talked to her hands. "There are several other things I never told you." 

And that led to Debbie attempting to grill her mother about money, at which point Robby stood up and said "I'm starving. Can't we get something to eat before we do any more talking?" 



Debbie was obviously consumed with curiosity about the "Naughty fortune", but Ramona stood up too. 

"An excellent idea!" she said. "Be patient Debbie, we can talk about all this more later." 

Debbie groaned and made much of being told to be "patient" again. She did, however, reflect for a moment on how much information she had gotten in the last few hours, and how many of her questions had been answered, albeit in an astonishing manner. So she clamped her jaws together and stood up too, at which time she realized she was also ravenous. 

"Would it be all right if I invite your Uncle to dinner again?" Ramona asked. Her voice was neutral. 

Both kids looked at each other. This wasn't anything even remotely like what they had expected when they wondered who Smith was, and it was all so new that they still didn't know how they felt about things yet. But he was their uncle, and their mother did love him. 

"Of course," said Robby, speaking for both of them. 

"We'll call for pizza," said Ramona. "When was the last time you had pizza Bobby?" she asked. 

"I can't even remember," he grinned. "Must I wear my disguise, just to go next door?" 

"You do and I won't speak to you," growled Debbie. But she smiled tentatively too. "I have more questions." 

"I can't wait to give you answers," said her "new" uncle. 

Ramona, who had driven her car to the house, found her briefcase and told the kids to come with her. Robert suggested that by going the secret way, he could get to the back of the house without being seen. He asked Robby and Debbie to go with him, and they immediately agreed. 

Ramona said she'd get pizzas on the way. 

The siblings and their uncle, who grabbed a flashlight, entered the passageway through the same bookcase they'd been uncovered behind, pulling it closed behind them. Then they led their uncle back down to the tunnel. The only thing they'd ever used for light was candles, and the flashlight made it seem both lighter where they were standing, and much darker where the light did not penetrate. When they got to the root cellar and Robby pushed the shelf/door open he commented on how amazing it was that a mere six year old boy could have opened the heavy door. 

"There was a counterweight on it back then," said Robert. "And the hinges were oiled. It opened quite easily. I imagine the rope has broken over the years. I'll have to add that to my very long list of things to repair." 

They led him up the stairs into the darkening evening, and then through the trees to the fence. They were surprised when he was able to fit through the fence too.' 

"This opening must have been made by the men who killed your Grandparents," said Robert sadly. I saw it the other day, when I caught ... when I saw you two. But I didn't think anything of it then. From now on you may enter the estate through the gate. There are other smaller gates also, but all are chained and locked with rusty old locks." 

"Are we really going to live in the manor?" asked Debbie. 

Her uncle walked along for a few more steps before he spoke. "Nothing would please me more," he said. "But that is up to your mother. I have no claim to her, other than blood. She may not wish to give up the home in which you were raised. And the mansion has bad memories for her. I have laid those ghosts to rest, but I don't know if Rami will be able to do that." 



Robby spoke, his voice surprisingly adult. "You really love her, don't you." It was more of a statement than a question. 

Robert nodded. "I love her above all else. Were I destitute, the only thing I would crave is her love." 

"But you're not destitute," said Debbie. "How much money do you have?" She couldn't resist asking and, as a mere teenager, she had not learned of the unwritten rules of society that frowned mightily on asking such a question. 

Robert laughed. "I have a lot. Your mother probably has more. She has never touched her inheritance. I have spent some of mine." 

"You didn't answer my question," said Debbie, stopping at the edge of the forest. "How much?" 

"You will have to ask your mother that question," said her uncle with a gleam in his eye. "As I recall she wanted to wait to talk about that." 

"Oooooo!" said a frustrated Debbie. "You two must be brother and sister! You're both driving me crazy!" She stomped off toward the house. 



Robert and Robby watched her go. Both men watched her butt cheeks lift and drop as she strode along. 

"She has so much passion. I think I am envious of you nephew," said Robert. 

Robby shook his head slowly. He, like his uncle, was watching the rise and fall of Debbie's buttocks as she stomped across the yard. "You have no idea," he said. "But I think that's what makes her irresistible to me." He looked at his uncle. "I think I might be a little envious of you too," he said, ready to back up if things turned ugly. 

"Your mother is a beautiful and passionate woman too," said Robert, completely unfazed at the idea that this boy might lust for his own mother. "I am the luckiest of men in the world." He grinned. "Except perhaps for you." 



They hurried after Debbie, not so much because they were in a hurry, but because she was getting too far away to watch. She got in the door before them and slammed it behind her. 

They found Debbie hounding her mother, who was setting out the fine china again, even though all they'd eat on it was pizza. Ramona, recovered somewhat from the ordeal she'd just been through, seemed to be ignoring her daughter. When the men came in Ramona turned to them. 

"Take your uncle and show him the house," she said tersely. "And take your sister with you." It was apparent she was not as oblivious of Debbie's repeated attempts to find out how rich the family was as it had first seemed. 

"Maaahm," came Debbie's drawn out moan. 

"Go," said Ramona, unrepentant at her own obstinacy. 

Debbie dragged her feet on the carpet as the men turned toward the hallway. She followed them silently as they went to Robby's room and various things Robby was proud of were pointed out. Then they showed him the bathroom and her mother's room. Robert stood in the middle of Ramona's bedroom and took in deep breaths. 

"This place smells like my sister," he said smiling. 

But when they got to Debbie's room she stood in the doorway, facing them. 

"I'm still not sure I like you," she said, obviously still in a funk. "My room is private." 

Robby rolled his eyes and started to move her by force, but his uncle stopped him. 

"One must always respect a lady's boudoir" he said. "Perhaps one day I shall see it." He turned toward the living room. There was no place else to see in the modest house. 

Robby shot his sister a dark look and then followed Robert. Debbie stood uncertainly in her doorway and then finally followed the men. 

The arrival of the pizzas interrupted any attempt by Debbie to pick up where she'd left off. She didn't really know why she was so interested in how much money her uncle and mother had inherited. Had someone asked her what she'd buy if she had more money she'd have been hard pressed to come up with more than a few new outfits and perhaps her own stereo system. She was still too young to think about cars and college and things like that. Her needs were pretty well met already. But still, she wondered, and her stubborn nature made her pursue the answer. 



Finally, when the boxes lay empty and grease-stained, and they all felt full enough that all they wanted to do was sit and rest, Robert leaned back and sighed. 

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[JEMMA]

Now, what do you want to know?" 

"How much money do we have?" Debbie promptly asked. 

Ramona sighed. 

"That money, the money that is in the bank, came from the death of my parents. They were murdered for that money. And we don't need it. We have everything we need already. I had thought a little about using some of it to send you two to college, but I have never wanted that money. It is blood money." 

Debbie started to say something but her mother held up her hand. 

"And, if you suddenly have a lot of money, it changes things. People treat you differently. They want some of your money. There are some who want all of your money. They don't care about you ... just the money. Even your friends will act differently toward you. They say things like, 'Well you have more than you need, so give me some.' And even if it is your money, to do with what you wish, if you do not give them some they feel like you have taken something from them. Money is not a bad thing, but the lust for money has caused more pain than all the wars in history. I don't want you two to have to face that pain." 

Debbie thought about that for a minute. "Okay" she said finally. "So ... if we said we didn't want any of that money ... would you tell us how much there is?" 

Robert laughed, a long, loud belly laugh. Debbie frowned at him, but he held up his hand. 

"I'm sorry," he said. "It's just that it is very hard to 'not want' money when you know it is there. But there are ways. Let me ask you this. Are you thirsty?" 

Debbie looked confused. "Thirsty?" 

"Yes" said her uncle. "Are you thirsty for a drink of water right now?" 

"No," said Debbie, still confused. 

"But you will be thirsty some time in the future, yes?" 

"Well of course," said Debbie. "But what does that have to do with anything?" 

"Money is like that," said Robert. "At some point you become very thirsty. If water is scarce, then thirst is a horrible thing. But if you can just turn on the tap any time you wish then water means very little, yes?" 

"It still means a lot if you're really thirsty," said Robby. 

"True" said Robert. "But, most of the time, you don't think about the water in the faucet, yes? Only when you are thirsty." 

Both kids nodded. 

"Then, you must look at your money like it is water. When you have great thirst, it is good to have. But one must not think of it all the time and give it inflated importance. Do you understand this?" 

Again both kids nodded. Debbie shook her head then. "But money isn't water. There's water everywhere. There's so much water that you couldn't drink it all. That's why you don't think about it all the time." 

"And this money that you are so interested in," said Robert. "What if there were more of it than you could ever spend? Would you then lose some of your interest in it?" 

Debbie blinked. "That would have to be a lot of money," she said. 

"How much is a lot?" asked her uncle. "Hundreds? Thousands? Millions?" 

Debbie looked uncomfortable. "I don't know. Millions I guess." 

"And how many millions?" he pressed. "Just millions? Tens of millions? Hundreds of millions?" 

Debbie looked shocked. "I think a million or two would be more than anybody could spend," she said. "I mean unless they bought stupid expensive things that they don't really need." 

"Then, my beautiful niece, let me assure you that your mother has more money than you, and your brother, and any additional brothers and sisters that may come along could ever spend. Just think of it as if it were water." 

The first thing Debbie thought of was what her uncle had said in the woods ... that her mother had more money than he did, because he had spent some of his and she had never touched hers. She looked at her Uncle. 

"And you?" she asked again. 

"The same," he said softly. "More than all of us could ever spend." 

Debbie licked her lips and looked around. 

"More than four million?" she asked. 

"More than forty million," said her uncle. 

Debbie's mouth hung open. "How?" she gasped. 

Robert waved his hand. "The banks. They have kept our money, and used it and made money with it, paying us interest. The interest was added to what our parents left us and then they paid us interest on the interest. It is the way of banks. And it has been some thirty years they have done this." 

Debbie couldn't breathe. "We're millionaires?" she squeaked. 

"Many times over, my dear," said Robert. 

"Wow," said a stunned Robby. 

Ramona had to speak. "But we don't need millions to live. I like our life the way it is now." She darted a look at her brother. "And now that Robert is back in my life I love our life. We mustn't let money change things! It could ruin everything!" 

"One can drown in very little water," said Robert, nodding. 

"Bobby," said Ramona. "I thought you couldn't receive your trust unless you graduated from college." 

He nodded. "When I was in East Africa there was a need for both expertise and money in the tribes I was working with. They were just establishing the Royal College in Nairobi, and I managed to get a degree in engineering through them. Officially it was awarded by the University of London, but it satisfied the prerequisites for obtaining access to my trust. It made a huge difference in the good I was able to do in the following years." 

His bland statement led to questions from both teens about where he'd been, and what he'd done, and that led to questions about the people he'd met and what they'd been like. 

Ramona sat and listened to her brother with a warm feeling. Just looking at him and hearing his voice made her feel good. The mantle clock chimed and she listened with half an ear until it reached ten melodious clangs. 

"It's late" she announced suddenly, interrupting her brother's account of working with the Masai. He was talking about Kali, a Swahili word for the hot, spicy food he loved. 

"We don't have anything to do tomorrow," objected Debbie. She and Robby both were completely enthralled by the stories their uncle had been telling them. 

"Ah, hurul-ayni," he said to Debbie, "but I have much to do on the morrow, and need my rest," said their uncle. 

"What does that mean?" asked Debbie, smiling. 

"It is Swahili for 'beautiful maiden'" he said, bowing to her. 

Debbie blushed, but grinned hugely too. Perhaps this strange man wasn't so bad after all. 

"Okay" said Debbie, her face slightly flushed. "But you have to promise to tell us more stories later." 

"You are, of course, welcome in my home ..." he looked at Ramona "Our home, as far as I am concerned, any time. Any time at all." Again he bowed to the children. He saw their look of amusement and added, "It is a habit I acquired in foreign lands. It soothes people. They are more willing to hear you when you bow." 

"So," said Debbie cheekily, "You're trying to sooth us?" 

"You have made your dislike for me clear," said Robert. 

"Well ... yes," admitted Debbie. "But that was before we knew who you really were. I guess you're not so bad," she finished, unable to meet the eyes of the man she'd screamed her hate at. 

"You have taken a huge weight from my shoulders," he said. "Perhaps some day I'll even be worth a hug." 

The first thing Debbie thought of when he said the word "hug" was the hugs she'd seen her naked mother giving him, while he made passionate love to her. Debbie felt a rush of emotion that she wasn't able to categorize as being either good or bad. 



"Yeah ... well, some day," she said carefully. 

"Until then," he said, turning. 

Something startling occured to Debbie suddenly and she turned to her mother. "Mom? Robert ... Robby? Is Robby named after ... him?" 

Ramona nodded, her eyes turning to her brother, who finally looked startled. 

"It was the only way I could have him near me at the time," she said. "Now, come. I'll take you home Bobby," said Ramona. "So you don't have to walk." 

Robby barked a laugh, and when the adults looked at him he blushed. "Sorry" he said. "I was thinking of ... never mind," he finished, also unable to meet his mother's and uncle's eyes. He had been thinking that every time his mother went to the manor she ended up naked with a stiff prick buried in her. 

Robert smiled. "Perhaps you want to come with us?" he offered in a gracious voice. "You can watch without having to hide behind the walls if that is what you were thinking." 

"Bobby!" squealed Ramona. She reached out and slapped his arm. 

Robby was so unnerved by his uncle's bland invitation to watch them have sex that he was momentarily lost for words. Finally he blurted out, "Maybe later." Then he turned even redder and lay his head on the table with a moan. 



Robert laughed. "Yes, I imagine you would like to be alone too, eh?" he said with a chuckle. 

Ramona turned around and pointed at her children. "You two don't do anything until I get home. We still have some things to talk about!" 

Both kids just nodded, looking pale all of a sudden. 

Ramona pushed her brother toward the door, still looking at her children. 

"And I'll be right back!" she said firmly. She then berated her brother as they went through the door, telling him he was shameless and crude and ... The conversation, if it could be called that, was cut off by the door as it closed.

[JEMMA]

Chapter Eleven 

Debbie looked at Robby. "What do you think she's going to do?" 

"I don't know. She said she'd be right back. Probably nothing," he said. 

"I don't mean with him," said Debbie, rolling her eyes. "I meant about us!" 

Robby looked at her miserably. "I don't know that either. Sounds like she doesn't like the idea of us doing ... things." 

"That's not fair," said Debbie, her stubbornness coming out in her voice. "They do things." 

"Deb, they do a whole lot more than we do," said her brother. 

"Yeah, but not that much more," she said, still wanting to argue. 

"Deb, I never thought of actually ... doing what they do," he said. "I mean I thought about it, but not like I was really going to try to get you to do that," he said. "Did you think about doing that? With me?" 



Debbie felt another rush of emotion. "Not really," she said. "I like what we do just fine. I mean I've wondered what it might feel like. You know? But seeing them ... and knowing who they are ... I don't know how I feel any more." 

"Well you better figure out how you feel, 'cause Mom said she wasn't going to be long," he said. 

As if to punctuate his sentence they heard a car door slam outside. They waited and then tensed as their mother came through the door. She did, in fact, look unhappy. 

"Sorry Mom," said Robby automatically. 

"What, exactly, are you sorry for Robby?" asked Ramona. She was in full parent mode and wanted her children to articulate their errors in a way that would convince her that their breach of behavioral rules would not be repeated. It was something she'd done with them for years. 

"I'm sorry you didn't get to spend more time with Uncle Robert," he said sincerely. 

"What?" asked Ramona, surprised by his statement. 

"Well we kind of ruined your evening with him," said Robby. "And we're sorry. Aren't we?" he hinted to his sister, who was also looking at him strangely. 

"I guess so," she said honestly. 



The overwhelming nature of everything that had happened settled on Ramona like thickly falling snow. She had gone from being inflamed with passion for her brother's touch, to horrified and ashamed that her children had seen it, followed by absolute joy that her children still loved her. Upon the heels of that was her anger that they had lied to her all these years and her astonishment that they were having sex. She knew how she was supposed to feel about that, her own behavior notwithstanding - that was different ... wasn't it? - and she had planned on laying down the law to them when she came in the door. Piled on top of that was the warm safe feeling she had enjoyed for most of the evening as they talked, like a real family, which was upset by her brother's completely tactless invitation for her children to watch him ravish her. It didn't help that he had begged for forgiveness, claiming that he was kidding ... trying to shock the children further out of the opinion they had formed already about him. 

It was all too much to think about ... to deal with. She felt a need to just get away from it all, but she knew she couldn't. It left her feeling a little shell shocked. She sat down heavily on the couch and stared at her children. 

"Mom?" asked her daughter. "Are you okay?" 

"No," said Ramona. "I don't think I am. This is all so confusing." 

Debbie, unfettered by all but her own concerns about how this was going to affect herself and her brother, spoke with typical teenaged innocence. 

"What's to be confused about?" she asked. "Uncle Robert came back, and you're glad. It's true that you have bad memories about the manor, but he's fixing it up really nice and everything, and we can go visit him whenever we want to. I mean what's changed all that much?" 

Ramona gave a strangled sound that was half laugh and have groan. 

"How I wish it were all that simple," she said. 

"Isn't it?" asked Debbie. 

"Well, let's see," said Ramona. She ticked things off on her fingers. "The house I hoped would fall down into a pile of rubble is being rebuilt so it will never fall down. My brother, against whom I have no defenses whatsoever, is bound and determined to father a child on me! Meanwhile my children are busy trying to make babies of their own ... together! People in town are going to just go nuts when they find out that the meek little woman at the bank is, in actuality, Elizabeth Naughty, the rich heiress of the Naughty fortune. I'll probably be fired. My children are much too interested in money that I have, but don't want. Have I missed anything? Isn't there something else I've forgotten that can ruin our lives?" 

Debbie looked startled as she realized that there were a lot of things she hadn't thought about. 

Robby, perhaps because he was male, but not necessarily so, took a more pragmatic view of things. He too, ticked things off on his fingers. 

"First of all, you don't ever have to go in the house next door again at all if you don't want to. Second, there are lots of ways to keep from having babies. If you don't want to have Uncle Robert's baby then just tell him so. Third, nobody in town has to know who you are now any more than they did last week. Everybody will know about Uncle Robert, but unless the two of you announce who you are, everybody in town will still think you're the ... what did you call it? ... nice little woman at the bank? And you have the wrong idea about Debbie and me. We fool around a little bit, because we love each other, but we're not trying to make babies. We haven't done that at all. And they can't fire you just because you're Elizabeth Naughty. It's not against the law to be Elizabeth Naughty. And if the money is that horrible, then I agree with you that we don't need it. Give it away or something. I don't care." 

He crossed his arms over his chest. 

Debbie had been nodding her head ... until he got to the part about giving away all the money. She wanted to complain about that, but she really felt her mother's distress, so she bit her lip. She could suggest some alternatives to that later. 

Of it all, Ramona had zeroed in the most on his statement that he and Debbie "hadn't done that". 

"You two haven't had sex?" she asked, tentatively. 



Debbie thought to reassure her mother. "Well, we have sex, but not like you and Uncle Robert." 

Ramona didn't know what that meant. "Let's just talk about that," she said, glad to have picked one topic that could be explored, and which might be less unsettling than she had previously thought. 

So they did, disregarding the fact that it was getting later and later. Ramona wasn't tired, and she was fascinated by what she was hearing from her children. It sounded to her like a carbon copy of what she and Robert had done when they were young ... younger even than these two. 

For their part, as the children realized she wasn't going to fly off in a rage every time they added something to their story, they felt much more comfortable telling it. They were amazed at how they got a sense of freedom out of giving up the secrets they had been so careful to keep. They had to include the things they had done in the house too ... the dressing up ... the fantasies they had acted out ... basically a description of the childhood in the manor that Ramona had been robbed of. 

When they were finished, Ramona sighed. She had heard a love story. That much was plain. What her children had done with each other was clearly based on their love for each other. She understood that. That understanding was the core of her own personality, based on the same kind of love she had for Robert. She found herself unable to judge their actions harshly ... and she knew it. 

She looked at her watch and groaned. "It's very late," she said. "Unlike you two, who are carefree and able to sleep in, I have to get up and go to work. Off to bed." 

Debbie looked at her mother slyly. "If you used your money you wouldn't have to work any more at all," she said. "You could sleep in too, if you wanted to." 

Ramona tried to glare at her daughter, but it just seemed to take too much energy. "I like my job," she said shortly. 



"We've seen how much you like your job," said Debbie innocently. "Several times. Like Robby said, sorry your job got messed up tonight." Her voice was so innocent that Ramona had to laugh. 

"Go on. Off to bed. Separate beds, my darlings," she said. 

"We've never slept in the same bed," said Robby, trying to sound injured. 

"Thank goodness for small miracles," said Ramona under her breath. 

No one got to sleep easily in the household that night. Ramona thought about everything she'd heard her children telling her, and it brought out her love and affection for her brother, who was a few hundred yards away ... quite possibly naked ... quite possibly wasting perfectly good seed. That led her to think about what she'd said about him fathering a child on her, and she examined that from several different angles, trying to decide exactly how she felt about it while his prick wasn't buried in her. She already knew how she felt about it then. 



Debbie lay in her bed, idly flicking her clitoris, also thinking about all that had happened. Even though her mother had specified separate beds, there had been no real heat in that order. Debbie clung to the hope that her mother could understand how she felt about Robby, not knowing her mother knew even better than she did herself. Debbie thought about what her mother had thought Debbie and Robby had been doing. She looked at that scenario from several different points of view, wondering again, what that might be like. 

Robby also lay in his bed. The thing that kept coming back to his mind was his hand on his mother's naked shoulder, telling her that he loved her. He felt a distinctly un-son-like feeling in is groin for his mother ... the same kind of thing he felt for his sister when they played. He examined that from several angles, trying to figure out whether it was good, bad, or indifferent. He found his answer when he suddenly realized his hand was firmly wrapped around his stiff cock, and that he was stroking it. 



Next door, in the Naughty mansion, Robert Naughty lay in his bed too, also thinking about what had happened that evening. Neither his niece or nephew had screamed hate at him. Their love for each other, something he too understood completely, was now out in the open. He knew it could not be quashed, no matter what his more conservative sister thought. He wasn't too upset about how Rami had berated him as a pervert for offering to let the children watch him love their mother. He had noticed that the points of her nipples had pressed firmly through her blouse. She might not know it, but that "perversion" had appealed to something in her. "Me thinks thou dost protest too much," he said out loud ito the darkness of his room. Then he thought about how much turmoil he had caused in his lovely sister's life, and examined that from several directions, trying to see if he had covered everything in his plan. He smiled. 



He had big plans for his sister. She didn't know them all. It would take time, but he was sure he could bring his plan to fruition. Perhaps, at last, the Naughty curse could be broken. Thinking about his plan made him stiff, and he considered masturbating. Instead he rolled over and tried to find sleep. He would not waste his seed.

[369kiew]

Nice story, support.

[JEMMA]

The next morning Debbie had to pull her mother out of bed, lecturing her on how she had to get up ... had to go to work ... had to be an adult. Ramona acted surprisingly like a teenage girl, snarling at the disruption of her sleep, moaning that she didn't want to get up. She was horny too, and that made her temper unruly. Debbie ignored her, much as a good mother would ignore the unthinking barbs that a daughter often throws at the mother making her do something she doesn't want to do. It was a remarkable reversal of roles. 

Once she had pushed her mother out the door, kissing her and telling her she loved her, Debbie turned to her brother's room. 

Robby was still asleep, though how he could have slept through the ranting and railing of his mother she could not guess. With economy of movement Debbie stripped off her sleepwear and ran her hand under the covers to find how her brother was clothed. 



Good. He had slept naked. She crawled into the bed, shivering at how warm it was. She cuddled up to her brother and closed her eyes, smelling his hair and the other scents that were ... Robby. Even that didn't wake him. With her arm draped over him, her hand only inches from his penis, she drifted into that place between sleep and wakefulness. 

At work Ramona drank a cup of coffee and felt a little better. She really did love her job. She got along well with everyone at the bank. She had been more comfortable as an invisible teller, but even now the sheen of being involved with the Naughty account had dimmed a little and people were back to business as usual. 

There was a new pile of bills and invoices from contractors in her in box. She tackled them, using the nervous energy she had created by resisting her daughter. On one bill she noticed something familiar. She went into her files and pulled out another invoice. They were the same, though dated differently. Hoskins dry wall was trying to charge twice for the same work. It was a clumsy attempt at larceny. Only the dates had been changed. Even Robert's signature on the approval line was exactly the same. She frowned, her nervous energy being channeled into the heat of anger. 

Renee Wright had known Ramona for more than six years. She was shocked as she walked by Ramona's new desk. Ramona's face was red and she was shouting into the phone. "And if you try this again I'll report you to the police!" snarled Ramona, slamming the phone down in the cradle. Renee looked at her friend like they'd never met. 

"What was that all about?" she asked, leaning on the short partition in front of the desk. 

"Hoskins drywall is trying to rip off my client!" said Ramona, reaching for her coffee cup, only to find it empty. She stood up to go get more. 

"Well you go get 'em girl," said Renee. "We can't have our favorite client getting ripped off." She looked around like she was checking to see who could hear them. "Have you met him yet?" she asked. 

"What?" said Ramona, distracted by her urge for caffeine. "Who?" 

"Robert Naughty, of course," said Renee. "I hear he's young and single. I don't know if he's good looking or not, but who cares with all that money he has?" 

Ramona's radar lit up like a set of holiday lights. "I've talked to him," she said carefully. "He's pig-headed," she added. She was horny and she blamed it on Robert Naughty. 

"I could get used to pig-headed, if it came with fifty million dollars." Renee winked. 

"You're married!" said Ramona. 

"Too true," said Renee. "And I love Ted, but he doesn't have fifty million dollars." 

Ramona was shocked. She hadn't thought about the fact that her brother would be considered "fair game" by conniving females in town. Even beyond town. It made her stomach hurt. 

"You'd leave Ted? Just for the money?" gasped Ramona. 

Renee smiled brilliantly. "No. I really do love Ted. But a girl can dream ... can't she? What about you? You've got the inside track here. Has he made any moves on you?" She whispered the last question. 

Ramona felt herself blushing and tried in vain to stop it. "Of course not!" she said. Her blush continued because of the lie. 

Renee laughed. "Well then, you'd better loosen up a little girl. He's the most eligible bachelor in the state - maybe in the five state region - and you're a good looking girl when you want to be. How about I take you shopping and see if we can come up with an outfit you can go on safari in?" She grinned from ear to ear. 

The last thing Ramona thought she needed was a bunch of people poking into who Robert Naughty was "seeing". No, now that she thought about it, the last thing she needed was a bunch of women trying to get her to introduce them to the most eligible bachelor in the five state region. No, now that she thought about it even more, the last thing she needed was to "get involved" with Robert Naughty, and then for people to find out who she was. 



"Thanks," she said, trying to defuse the situation. "But I'm happy with who I am. All that money comes with problems attached to it. You can be sure of that," she said firmly. "And I'm not about to become a dating service for that pig-headed man either, so spread that around. If anybody wants to meet him they can go to his drafty old house and knock on the door, just like anybody else." 

"What does he look like?" asked Renee, not at all put off by Ramona's tirade. 

"I don't know," lied Ramona. "I've only seen him once and that was just for a handshake in Peterson's office. I've talked to him on the phone a couple of times. All the face-to-face stuff is with Mister Semen." 

Renee shuddered visibly. "That spooky old man?" she said. "He gives me the willies." 



"Oh, he's nice enough, really. A little strange, but a nice man all things considered," said Ramona. "He's only going to be around for another few weeks." 

"Well, you listen to me Ramona," said Renee. "Pig-headed or not, there's going to be a stampede by a whole bunch of women trying to get their claws into Mister Robert Naughty. You think about what I said. You're a sweet woman Ramona, and you deserve some happiness. And you do have the inside track. don't throw away first crack at something that could be a nice thing." Renee blew an air kiss and wandered off toward her own desk. 

Ramona sat and thought about what had just happened. It was true. Women would flock to try to net a catch like Robert. It made her stomach roil to think about any other woman in Robert's arms. 

She stood up, grabbed her briefcase viciously, and stalked out of the bank toward her car.

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