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All characters engaged in sexual situations are eighteen years of age or older. All characters and events are fictional. Any similarities with actual events or persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental.
This is a work of fiction, and as such, certain events or situations may be improbable, and certain details may not correspond to real life. If you’re looking for strictly likely situations and exact reality, I suggest you skip this.
Amanda’s expression changed, slowly, from the mild amusement of relating the story of the line of women born minutes before their twin brothers, to surprise, then melancholy.
“Both were pretty devastating…” Amanda whispered.
“You and Peter…he was the man you were in love with that left you to marry another woman.”
Bonnie wasn’t asking, but Amanda affirmed what she said with a sad nod of her head.
Then she shook her head.
“He left me, then found another woman. He said he wanted to…to be…normal .
“He didn’t want to lie about our life. Not like our mother and Larry had to. Not like our grandmother and her brother who had to move away from their family to be together.” Amanda moaned.
Amanda looked from Bonnie, to me, then back to Bonnie.
“Until your parents, we all had children with other men, but all, all of us…our brothers were first, in our hearts, and…the first men we gave our bodies to.”
“You’ve told this story before,” Bonnie stated.
Amanda looked down at her plate, and nodded.
“Andrew knew…the whole story. His kindness and love is what got me through the death of the love of my life, my brother. He deserved to know the truth before he married me.
“He…we didn’t want…we wanted to stop it, to keep our children from carrying on that heritage. That’s why he reacted the way he did.”
“Do our parents know? I mean, this whole story, do they know?” I asked Amanda.
Amanda shook her head.
“Mom and Dad tried, mostly Mom. She always told us sex was for others, not each other,” Bonnie informed Amanda. “I didn’t listen though.”
Amanda cocked an eyebrow at me.
“He needed a little coaxing,” Bonnie giggled.
“Did not!” I vehemently denied her accusations. “Ever since…um…I wanted you too.”
“Ever since I let you see my shadow on the curtain as I undressed? Since the time I kissed you when you pretended to be asleep? Or did you finally catch on when I showed you my boobs?” Bonnie laughed.
I was flabbergasted that she had done all that on purpose.
I just shook my head in denial.
“I think you still didn’t get it, though, little brother. You sent me to my room to sleep alone that first night in a house alone together.”
I did the only thing I could think of to do; I defended myself.
“That doesn’t mean I didn’t masturbate thinking about you, and have the best orgasms of my life, to that point, imagining filling your pussy with my cock and filling you with my cum.”
Bonnie and Amanda both burst into laughter, and I felt my face flush hot.
“Clyde, that may be more information than I need, or want,” Amanda told me through her laughter.
“I had to sneak into his room naked, in the middle of the night, to get him to live that fantasy,” Bonnie giggled at her grandmother.
“You hardly snuck. You knocked first,” I again tried to defend myself, and immediately realized I failed miserably again.
“I just wanted to make sure you were awake,” Bonnie revealed, still giggling.
“How could I sleep when all I could think about was you, asleep in the other room, and how happy I was that you were there?”
“You were awake thinking about me, Clyde?”
“I didn’t want you to ever think there might be someplace you’d be happier than with me,” I said seriously, looking in my sister’s eyes.
Bonnie smiled at me like she was the happiest girl in the world.
“Well, maybe there’s hope for him yet,” Amanda chuckled.
“Amanda, we’ve gone as far as we can go with the investigation.”
“And what did we find, Tim?”
“Understandably, the Sheriff wasn’t all that forthcoming, at first. The investigator I found from Provo didn’t give many details on how, but was able to persuade him to give us some useful information.”
“I’m sure we probably owe him some gratitude. Or does he expect something more, um, substantial?” Amanda questioned her partner.
“She. The investigator is a she, and I’m not convinced what she managed to dig up wasn’t procured through less than savory tactics.”
“I don’t care. What did she find for us?”
“The Sheriff had the same suspicions that prompted you to look into it. There’s video she somehow convinced the Sheriff to let her see.
“Let me read from her report for you. I’m going to skip the boring parts, of course.
“Subject was observed, via video recording from a bank security camera, arriving on that day in described vehicle, a 1978 Chevrolet pickup truck. Subject exited vehicle with one suitcase Ankara escort and a pocketbook. Sheriff confirmed vehicle remained, without moving, for two days before owner representative of record was contacted to remove.
“I’ll skip to the next appropriate part now.
“Subject was recorded via security camera at the Beaver bus station entering, going directly to ticket window, then sitting alone until departure from station. Subject was then picked up on the outside security camera approaching and entering appropriate Salt Lake City bound bus.”
“OK, Tim, just tell me what else we know. I don’t need to hear the investigator’s narrative.”
“Amanda, she took a bus to Salt Lake City with a brief stop in Provo. There’s video of her in Salt Lake City exiting the bus. She didn’t even go inside. We lost her there.”
“So we know she left Beaver, apparently by her own will. Did her brother ever leave town?”
“No, he didn’t. The sheriff poked around the ranch, and found nothing suspicious, or of interest there.
“Your daughter is in the wind.”
“I can breath easier now though. She’s out there, alive, and not buried in some shallow grave on that horrid ranch.”
“Amanda…” Tim started.
“I know, Tim. Damn it, I don’t need anybody reminding me we don’t know what’s happened to her in the months since then. I’m just relieved he didn’t, um, you know…”
“OK, Amanda. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”
“How could she just disappear in that place, like that? There aren’t that many places to go, are there?”
“Amanda, the Salt Lake City metro area is over two million people,” Tim sighed through the phone.
“Did we check all the bus stations, railways, and airports for her buying a ticket anywhere?”
“We got lucky with the sheriff in Beaver. Finding out if she left Salt Lake City would take several warrants. No judge is going to sign a warrant without something to indicate foul play.”
“I know, Tim,” Amanda sighed. “Being disappeared for twenty years, then disappearing again immediately before being found is contra-indicative there was foul play.”
“Are we done then, Amanda?”
“Yes,” Amanda sighed. “Write her a check, but no bonus for whatever favors she may or may not have provided the sheriff. That’s on her.”
Amanda poked her phone to end the call, then threw it across the patio and into her pool.
In her younger days, she would have hit her target: the short, brick wall behind the pool.
Jim stepped off the last stair and into the basement of his mother’s house, and stopped.
The basement had been completely unfinished the first time he saw it, but she had a builder on retainer and they had partitioned off an area at the bottom of the steps and finished it.
The mirrors on the three walls of the area provided a view from all angles of the solitary piece of exercise equipment inside, and the body using it at the moment.
The fact that the body using the stair stepper belonged to his mother wasn’t relevant to him.
The fact that it had been the better part of two decades since he had seen so much of a woman’s body was relevant, and he had no desire to not take in each and every inch of her with his eyes.
Her bare feet rose and fell with her quick strides on the machine, and he could clearly see the muscles of her calves and thighs rippling beneath her milky white, freckled skin. The butt cheeks moving in alternating rhythm were barely hidden beneath the skin tight shorts that covered none of her thighs and ended at her hip bones.
Perspiration glistened off the expanse of freckled skin above the shorts that left little to the imagination. Her upper back was barely covered with a single strap around her ribs and a single strap between her shoulder blades that split and disappeared over her shoulders.
Jim found her reflection in the mirror. His eyes lingered for a brief moment on the soft mound between her upper thighs, perfectly accented with a deep V underneath the tight shorts, but mostly on the barely visible vertical line centered there.
Jim was a little surprised at the flawless skin of her flat stomach. Unlike everything else he could see, there was not even a hint of a freckle there.
His eyes paused briefly again, this time on the points, clearly visible beneath the front of the sports bra, of her obviously erect nipples.
He expected to find her eyes returning his gaze, and was surprised to find that their steady look was not on him, but on herself in the mirror.
He was suddenly aware, totally, that she was his mother when her stride suddenly slowed and she stepped backward off the machine.
Her eyes had not waivered from her own reflection in the mirror until she looked down to retrieve a towel and water bottle from the small table next to her exercise machine.
“Jim, I’m going back to Indy today. Maria is in charge while I’m gone.”
“Maria? Seriously, Mother? The maid?” Jim grumbled.
He was now acutely aware of his erection, Ankara escort bayan and hoped it wasn’t obvious.
“That’s how it is,” Amanda said after taking a long drink from the bottle of water. “If you’re too unhappy with that, there’s probably an opening at a hell-hole ranch nearby.”
Amanda turned and finally looked in her son’s eyes.
“I know you’ve spent your adult life, and a few years before, fucking your sister, but this…” she said while waving her index finger between her and her son, “will never, ever happen. In fact, if I get wind of anything new even remotely incestuous, you can go back to that hell-hole.
“I want all eight acres cleaned up when I get back. Everything except right around the house has been neglected far too long for my liking.”
Jim felt himself blush, but he didn’t want to correct her.
He only had sex once since his children were born, and it wasn’t with his sister. He had no intention of explaining any of that to her, including the fact that she probably knew the one person he had sex with.
Amanda brushed past her son and climbed the stairs behind him.
“Thank you, Mother,” he said without turning.
I probably scowled at the shiny, new, pickup truck parked under the carport next to the Jeep. I hadn’t decided yet if I liked it or not. Not really it, but the reason it was there.
The salesman who delivered it two Saturdays ago had informed Bonnie and I that it was paid for. He wouldn’t say by who, but I was certain I knew, and was sure Bonnie knew, too.
He said it would go anywhere, and had enough torque to move a mountain. I thought he was probably exaggerating.
Bonnie had slapped my arm when I told him to take it back, and he had said he couldn’t.
Now I was waiting for my wife as I examined it. It was certainly a fine looking piece of machinery. It had four doors, like Rusty’s truck, but was fire engine red, considerably larger than Rusty’s, with bigger, knobbier tires, and gave a very distinctive growl and rattle from the diesel engine.
Bonnie loved it. She loved that truck the same as I loved Stan. Maybe more.
Amanda had arrived each morning the week after it was delivered, after breakfast at the big house, and they had disappeared together in it.
On Friday afternoon of that week, Bonnie was all smiles and giggles when I got home from work. I asked her what she was so excited about, and she pulled her new drivers license out of the pocket of her denims.
“Sorry, lover,” Bonnie giggled as she closed the door behind her and brought me back into the present. “Haley called to remind us she’ll be home Sunday night. She said she forgot she was an hour ahead of us, but I think she just couldn’t wait another second to talk to me.”
It was almost four o’clock in the morning, and we were on our way to make breakfast for the guys. Rusty and June were in Illinois this week getting Haley ready to move back home.
Amanda and Charlie had gone back to Indianapolis last weekend, so we were alone.
I assumed Dad was nearby, but we didn’t talk to him.
When Rusty left me in charge of the ranch, I was surprised, but nobody else seemed to be, and they didn’t even appear to think it should be any other way.
The frequent times someone had referred to me as ‘bossman’ sounded like it was in fun, and always got a chuckle out of somebody.
Both of us were relieved this was our last day of it and Rusty, June, and Haley would be back in a couple of days.
“I think you’re starting to like her, just a little,” Bonnie sang next to me as I drove the new truck into town Saturday afternoon.
“Who?” I scoffed back at her.
“My new truck, of course.”
“Your new truck? It’s yours?”
“Of course. Grandma gave it to me.”
“We haven’t even talked to her since she…we got it. How do you know she gave it to you?” I asked, honestly skeptical now.
“She likes me best, that’s how.”
“Does not,” I stated, trying not to laugh.
“Then why did she give me this truck?”
I was driving the biggest vehicle I had ever driven, wasn’t accustomed to it yet and had to concentrate to not run over anything, so decided I couldn’t decide exactly where the flaw in her argument was, but I knew it was there.
We were almost to Amanda’s house anyway. We’d not been there yet. Amanda said she didn’t want us to come until she was done with what she called renovations, but then she needed to go back to handle something with a case, and would be gone a couple weeks.
So she asked us to check on the house while she was gone, but we didn’t need to waste too much time on it. She said it would be fine if we just drove by every week or so. This made sense, except she gave us a key.
It felt like we were leaving town as we got close to the destination our navigation was directing us to. The highway ahead of us disappeared into trees before a mountain rose up from the valley floor off in the distance, and we turned Escort Ankara onto a narrow, unpaved road. I worried there would be a problem if we met a vehicle headed the opposite direction, so proceeded slowly along the winding street.
Most of the drives on either side disappeared behind trees before we could see any homes, but on the occasion a house was visible, they looked like nice places. Not like ours, but more like Rusty and June’s.
I could see ahead a small, square, brick structure at the side of the road beside a concrete drive when the navigation voice announced we had reached the destination. I didn’t think we had passed another drive made of concrete. I only remembered gravel drives.
I slowed and stopped just before I had to turn into the drive. The trees here were less dense than the other yards in the neighborhood. I could make out a building, in the distance, that could have been a house.
“Grandma doesn’t seem like a live-in-the-woods kind of woman. Are you sure this is the right place, Clyde?”
I pointed at the brick structure. It was about four feet tall and a foot square. There was a door on the front that looked just like the door on the front of our mailbox back at the ranch and a plaque on the side.
The plaque read “2835 Navajo Trail”, then underneath that was one word: Steele.
Bonnie raised both eye brows.
“That’s a pretty fancy mailbox.”
I wheeled the truck into the drive and headed for the house at a snail’s pace. There was plenty of width to the drive, but it was anything but a straight line, and I didn’t want to leave knobby tire prints in the manicured grass.
The obviously mowed grass only extended a foot or so on either side of the drive. After that is wasn’t unkempt grass, but was considerably less tended between the sparse distribution of trees. The trees were mature hardwoods, with an occasional pine. The yard, even this far from the house, had obviously been tended, and I saw no sign of undergrowth besides the grass.
The drive rose in elevation much steeper than it looked from the road, and though I could see some hints of a house before entering the property, I quickly lost sight of it as we got deeper into the property.
The trip from the road had been several minutes, at my slow pace, when the steady incline flattened out and the house came into view and I brought the truck to a stop.
“Good god,” Bonnie moaned.
The house wasn’t situated as I expected. It neither faced us directly nor at a right angle. It was still, at the closest corner, at least a hundred yards away. I couldn’t decide if the odd angle made it look smaller or larger than it really was, but either way, I was pretty sure it was larger than any other house I had seen outside of a magazine or book.
Between where we had stopped and the house was a proper yard, or as close to one as I imagined the owner of such a house would allow. A few of the same mature trees dotted the landscape, but it was mostly lush, green grass.
“Look,” Bonnie said softly as we approached the house. She was pointing across the truck, out my window. I didn’t even notice the sand drive that headed off and away from the obviously main house.
She was pointing out a smaller, much smaller, house. The four-wheel all terrain vehicle parked outside the garage was hitched to a small trailer loaded full with tree limbs and brush.
“I don’t think that’s where Amanda lives. She doesn’t seem to be much of an ATV person,” I informed Bonnie.
“Go go go go go!” Bonnie hissed just as I noticed our Dad come from behind the small house and head for the ATV.
I eased off the brake pedal and let the truck idle away. I knew if I gave it much throttle, the growl from the big diesel engine would certainly attract his attention. I wasn’t absolutely sure he didn’t notice us anyway.
The concrete drive changed to bricks, arranged in a herringbone pattern, as we approached the house, and became a large circle in the center of the yard in front. The landscape here was a mixture of manicured lawn and disheveled flowers that almost looked like they were wild. There were even some large cacti here and there.
I slowly circled the truck around the drive and parked just a little closer to the front door than the center of the large circle.
“Wow, Clyde. Rusty was right about some of these houses being, what did he say? Mighty fancy?”
The house was actually smaller than I initially thought. I could see now that the gray-shingled, high-pitched roof gave the illusion of it being about twice the size it actually was. It was still more house than I imagined a single person could ever need.
The outside was a light pink stucco with a band of rock across the entire front, rising up from the ground to the bottom of the windows. The large portico with arched openings on three sides added to the illusion of being a larger house than it actually was.
Bonnie hopped down out of her…the truck and started for the front door, so I hurried to catch up.
By the time I made it around the front of the truck, she had stopped at a fat, round cactus near the open arch on the front of the portico and was bending down to smell a large, red flower that had bloomed from the top of the cactus.
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