For a brief description of what takes place in each of the previous chapters, visit this page.
For a list of the characters from the story you are now reading, visit this page.
For a list of the characters from the previous two stories that you will encounter here as well, visit this page.
And now, dear readers, we make our way into the next installment. Read on…
by Rachael Yukey
The night delays its quiet turn
Sleeping hearts refuse to yearn
Frost composes aches within
The dark exhales and draws me in
Hush before the fever grins
A shimmer moves beneath my skin
The glass reflects a pale design
The ether binds your breath to mine
Tarja Turunen, 2026
Mallory adjusted the digital camcorder on its tripod, centering the aged John Deere tractor on the screen and zooming in a bit. Julie occupied the operator’s platform, her backside firmly planted on what little remained of the seat cushion. Jason Hanson was standing on the drawbar, aiming a second cam over his daughter’s shoulder to capture what Julie was doing with the controls. Both cams were feeding to the laptop in split-screen format. By popular demand from her YouTube viewership, Julie was live-streaming her first attempt to summon the old beast to life.
Glancing at the laptop again, Mallory pointed to indicate the number of viewers who had logged on to watch, a tally that had just exceeded the one thousand mark. Her eyes shifted to the man seated in the lawn chair behind the laptop screen. Roger Keeting met Mallory’s gaze with a grin and a shake of the mullet. No, I don’t get it either.
“All right, here we go!” Julie announced into her headset mic. Mallory had the gain cranked as high as she dared, in hopes that Julie’s words would be audible above the roar of the engine once it got going.
Describing every step of the process as she went, Julie throttled up the pony engine, pulled the choke lever, and pressed the start button. The unmistakable whine of an electric starter permeated the air before the little gas engine caught, coming to life with a deafening roar.
“Yes, it’s really supposed to be that loud!” Julie proclaimed, her voice coming through clearly in spite of the din, thanks to her headset mic. “I was surprised, too. Hope you guys can hear me okay. Now we’re going to let it run for a minute, because the exhaust from the pony engine is heating up the diesel’s cylinder head. Gotta tell you, folks, I’m nervous as hell.” Folding her arms, she waited.
“All right!” she said, about thirty seconds later. “I’ve got the diesel throttled up, and we’ll see if he goes.” She pulled a lever set into the platform, and the roar of the pony engine was now accompanied by a weird chuff chuff chuff. The tractor was noticeably vibrating.
“Here comes the moment of truth,” said Julie. “The pony engine is turning the diesel over, the oil pressure is a little over thirty psi—all that’s left is for me to let go of the compression release.” She took her hand off of a spring-loaded lever she’d been holding onto. The pony engine pulled down, the rhythmic pulsing becoming more pronounced.
It took most of a minute before the big diesel caught. It fired once, spun over a few more times, then sputtered again, followed by a few random firings in short sequence.
“He’s clearing his throat, people!” Julie exulted. The diesel began to fire more regularly in a slow, rhythmic series of loud pops, gradually increasing in tempo. The engine spun up, beginning to run under its own power with a pop pop pop sound.
“Oh, hell yeah! Hell yeah!” Julie was shouting. She gave off a whoop, then resumed her narration. “Okay, I just disengaged the starter clutch, and now I’ll kill the fuel supply to the pony engine.” The roar of the small engine faded away, leaving only the loud popping sound of the two-cylinder diesel, its tempo still a little erratic.
Julie stood, clasped her hands above her head, and let off another triumphant cry. “Ladies and gentlemen of YouTube, we have a poppin’ Johnny diesel, kicking over on its own juices. Fuckin’ A!”
She glanced up at the stack, which was billowing bluish-black smoke. “Looks like we have some oil getting into the combustion chambers,” she commented. “Most likely the rings are stuck to the pistons, and they’ll free themselves up once it runs a bit. If not, I might have to rebuild the diesel.”
She settled back onto the seat, still grinning from ear to ear. “All right,” she said more calmly. “Time to see if he’ll move under his own power.” She shot a glance over her shoulder. “Holding on tight, there, Dad?”
Jason, gripping the steel seat frame with the hand that wasn’t holding the camera, said something to Julie that Mallory couldn’t hear. Turning back to the controls, Julie shoved the shift lever into gear, then rested her hand on a long lever to her right. “I have a feeling,” she observed for the benefit of her audience, “that this hand clutch is going to take some getting used to. Anyway, here we go.”
She pushed the throttle forward with her left hand. The response was immediate, that distinctive staccato popping sound revving right up. The engine was beginning to smooth out. Placing her hand back on the wheel, Julie eased the clutch lever forward with the other. The tractor began to roll, the engine lugging just a bit. Julie gave it some more throttle, and the diesel caught up, the tractor easing into slow, steady forward motion. Julie tugged on the steering wheel to follow the contours of the old machinery path, then stood, putting her weight on the wheel to turn it left.
“Holy hell,” she observed. “These really are a bitch to steer.” She pulled back on the clutch, the tractor coming to a halt after rolling forward a few more feet. “Let’s try a higher gear!” She moved the shifter to another position, bumped the throttle a little higher, then pushed the clutch forward again. The tractor shuddered into motion, the engine momentarily pulling down.
As the RPMs caught up, Julie heaved on the wheel again, bringing the machine round the loop in front of the house, then heading back towards the machine shed. Jason was holding on gamely, a lopsided smile on his face. Mallory, carefully following their trajectory with the camera and doing her best to adjust the zoom on the fly, was caught up in the moment in spite of herself. I wish Dad could have lived to see this.
Julie, still wearing that shit-eating grin, waited until she was about twenty feet short of the machine shed door, then brought the tractor to a halt. Throttling back to low idle, she looked in the direction of the camera as Mallory zoomed in close on her face. “It lives and breathes, folks! Now, to shut down the engine, you just release the compression. All the literature says to never shut it down with the throttle; it’s bad for your rods and bearings.” Reaching down, she pulled back on the compression release. The loud pops immediately cut out, replaced by a short-lived chuffing sound as the engine spun over a few more times. Julie let go of the lever, then looked back to the camera.
“How friggin’ cool was that?” she exulted. “There’s an engine that hasn’t been started in at least a couple of decades, folks, firing right up. Damn, these old Johnny-poppers are amazing. Anyway, as you saw, it also moves under its own power, and it looked like the exhaust was cleaning up towards the end, too. There’s still a lot of stuff that needs tested, and a few things I know I have to fix, but this tractor is officially back from the dead. Thanks for tuning in, everyone! We’ll catch ya on the flip side.”
Mallory made a slashing motion across her throat, and Roger killed the live feed. Jason stepped down from the drawbar, making his way towards them with the camera still clutched in his hand. Julie practically bounded down from the operator’s platform, doing a giddy dance as she followed in her father’s wake. Jason set the camera on the table next to the laptop.
Roger got to his feet as Julie approached. She enveloped him in a hug. “Thanks for the help, Rog!”
Roger held her at arm’s length and let out a guffaw. “Wait’ll you see the comment feed. This whole ‘hot chick restores a tractor’ thing you’ve got going on is pulling every hayseed in the country away from their moonshine stills and snake-handling rituals.”
Julie slapped his arm playfully. “Oh, be nice.”
Roger hugged Mallory, then shook Jason’s hand. “I need to jet—my mom is blowing up my phone with texts, wondering when I’m going to be at her house. We’ll be seeing more of each other over the next few weeks. Think over what I said, Mal, and let me know what you want to do.”
As Roger made his way across the lawn, Julie regarded Mallory with eyebrows lifted. “What are we thinking over?”
Mallory held up a hand. “We’ll talk about that here in a bit. Did you want a cup of coffee or something, Jason?”
“Naw, I’ve gotta get moving, too. I promised Lisa I’d help her with some campaign stuff.” he turned his attention back to Julie, jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards the ancient machine squatting in the middle of the path. “Cool project, kiddo. You got it running.”
“Oh, I’m just getting started! I’m thinking full resto, fix everything up to factory spec, fresh paint and decals, then maybe get some implements. How cool would it be to actually plow with it? I can—”
“You do realize,” Mallory broke in, “that we’re going home to Colorado in five weeks.”
The smile faded from Julie’s lips. “Yeah. I guess we are.”
***
From the diary of Mallory Kalvornek: July 15th, 2022
Talking to Julie about my conversation with Roger and getting the band started again did not go the way I expected. We came as close as we ever get to fighting. Truth is, she knows me too well. Because, dammit, I really, really want to do this, and she knew that before I did. I’ve never gotten over the first opportunity falling through, and I didn’t even realize that till now. But Julie knew. Of course she knew.
I told her I was leaning against it, and she told me I was being an idiot. I pointed out that it’ll probably mean a drastic dip in my income, at least in the near term, and she said so what—we can easily live on what she makes. Naturally, my damn stupid pride reared its head, and I told Julie I didn’t want to put her in the position of having to carry us financially. Which, as she was quick to point out, completely glossed over the fact that were our positions reversed, I’d do the same for her. In fact, I already have: while she was pursuing her masters, I was pulling in over eighty percent of our income.
So anyway, we had it out. It wasn’t really a fight, but it was fight-adjacent. And I don’t think it was really about the possibility of reforming the band. There’s been a sneaky, insidious tension building between us over the past few weeks, so subtle that I don’t think either of us even realized it was there until today. I’m pretty sure I know what it’s all about, too: neither of us wants to go home.
I didn’t come to that realization until maybe ten minutes ago. Julie and I had our little tiff, apologized to each other, made love, and then she went out to drive the tractor back inside the shop and tinker with it for a bit. I then sat down at the kitchen table, started going over a mental checklist of everything that still needs to happen before we head back to Colorado, and proceeded to cry my damn silly eyes out. I was about halfway through the Patented Mallory Kalvornek Good Cry when it dawned on me that Julie feels the same way I do. See, I know her as well as she knows me.
And so, dear diary, precisely what is one to do with this information? It’s come up a couple of times over the past month, but the possibility of moving back to Minnesota has never seemed as reasonable and attractive as it does right now. It would complicate a few things—but it would also solve a number of problems. And would we be happier here? I think it’s quite possible that we would. And then, of course, there’s the band question.
Could we actually get it all back together and have a career? It might be worth one more try. Oh, I know we’ll never be rich rock stars. Even the most famous of the current crop of young rockers are comfortably middle class, not taking cocaine showers with Playboy bunnies in Beverly Hills. But a deal for international distribution with Nuclear Blast could get us into that comfortable income zone, and possibly sustain it over the long haul. Do I want that? You’re goddamn right I do. Just as important, Julie wants it for me, and I have her full support.
Of course, the fact that there’s a baby due in February complicates things just a tad, and this reunion might not work out scheduling-wise for that reason alone. But it’s worth a conversation at least; see what can be done to accommodate that. Maybe a temporary replacement keyboardist, if we end up with tour dates at an inconvenient time? It’s not necessarily a showstopper.
So I guess I know what I’m going to tell Roger. In fact, what am I waiting for? I’ll call him right now.
***
Nettie snatched her phone from the table where she was seated in the crew room at Thormleton Ambulance in Johnstown, lifting it to peer at the screen. Bridgett Ramscone.
“Gonna take this outside,” she said to no one in particular. Her partner Darren and the two members of the other crew didn’t even glance up from whatever they were doing. Nettie pushed herself out of the rundown office chair and hastened to the exit, swiping the green button as she pulled the door to the garage open.
“Hi, Bridgett.”
“You sitting down?”
Nettie’s gut clenched. “What’s going on?” She crossed the cavernous space in long strides, going for the door that led to a cozy little fenced-off lawn space that was still known as the smoking yard, although smoking there had been banned by management over five years before. If you wanted to burn one while on duty, you now had to do it in the parking lot.
“An attempt was made to execute warrants on both David Cesaneus and Shannon Brentshaw this morning, Nettie,” Bridgett was saying. Nettie let herself out into the yard, plopping her backside on one of the battered old Adirondack chairs that lived out there. The largish expanse of grass also sported a barbecue grill, some picnic tables, a volleyball net, and a basketball hoop mounted to the side of the building.
“What do you mean, attempt? Attempt implies failure. What happened?”
Bridgett sighed. “Neither one of them is anywhere to be found, and there are signs of hasty packing at both residences. Family and associates deny any knowledge of their whereabouts.”
Nettie’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. She swallowed hard, trying to moisten a suddenly dry throat. Finally she found her voice. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“I wish I was.”
Nettie was fuming. “That bitch Melissa. She tipped them.”
“I doubt that very much,” said Bridgett, “seeing as Melissa Brentshaw is currently on a ventilator at Mercy Medical in Cedar Rapids.”
“What?”
“Someone broke into her house Saturday morning, ransacked the place, and beat her to within an inch of her life. Then they slit her left wrist and left her to bleed out. She somehow managed to get hold of her phone and call 911. She’d have died if there hadn’t been a cop literally two blocks away with a tourniquet in her vest pocket.”
Horrified, Nettie got to her feet and began pacing the yard. “If this happened Saturday, how come you’re just now telling me?” She realized she was practically yelling.
“Calm down, Nettie. Nobody knew, not until they went to question her after David and Shannon turned up missing. I just found out ten minutes ago, when Latisha Miller called me.”
Nettie took a couple of deep breaths, trying and failing to calm her jangled nerves. “Is she going to make it?”
“Probably. They’re planning to extubate tomorrow afternoon if all goes well.”
Nettie’s brow furrowed. “What’d they intubate her for?”
“She was bleeding into her airway, apparently. EMS put the tube in on the way to the hospital.”
“Okay.” Nettie drew in a long breath. “Okay. If they’re extubating tomorrow afternoon, I’m driving down in the morning.”
“You’ll have to take a number and stand in line. There’ll be a whole slew of cops and FBI agents wanting to talk to her as soon as she wakes up.”
“They won’t be waiting at the hospital,” said Nettie through clenched teeth. “I will be. I want first crack, because it’s my responsibility. Christ knows how, but someone must have found out Melissa talked to me. It’s my fault, goddamn it.”
“You can’t think that way, Nettie, or you won’t last five minutes in this business.” Bridgett’s tone was conciliatory. “If you’re right about what happened, it’s a one in a million thing. I’ve interviewed hundreds of people close to suspects, and none of them have ever been beaten up over it. This isn’t your fault. That said, if you’re serious about going down, you’ll want to touch base with Tisha. She can arrange credentials for you to hang out at the hospital and wait for Melissa to be stable enough for an interview. If you don’t have those, they’re going to chuck your ass out on the street.”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll give her a call as soon as—”
The pager attached to her belt went off. “Thormleton ambulance, please respond to 124 West Hammond Avenue for a sixty-seven-year old male with altered mental status; family suspects stroke. Your time is 1536.”
“Fuck!” Nettie spat out. She plucked the radio from her belt. “Seven-oh-three copies.”
Her partner Darren was right behind her. “Seven-twenty-eight.”
Nettie made for the door to the garage. “I gotta go, Bridgett. I’ll be heading down to Cedar Rapids the moment I’m off duty tomorrow morning.”
***
“Okay, everybody roll!” Four girls threw dice.
“I got six!” Chelsey Milne crowed.
“One,” said Halee, a sour expression on her face.
“Five over here,” said Bethany.
“Three,” said Naomi.
The four girls were squished together naked on the couch in Bethany and Hannah’s living room. They were leaning forward, examining their dice where they had landed on the coffee table.
“So Chelsey gets her pussy eaten first; Halee goes last,” said Bethany.
“Fuck me,” Halee growled.
“Last,” said Naomi. All four girls erupted in a fit of laughter.
“All right, then,” said Bethany, “now we roll for licking order.”
They all picked up their dice, then tossed them back onto the table.
“Whoa,” said Chelsey, pointing to the six she’d just rolled. “Does this mean I have to lick my own damn self?” Another fit of giggles ensued.
“Hmmm,” said Bethany, perusing the dice. “Looks like the rest of the order is Halee, Naomi, then me. Better re-roll, Chelsey.”
Chelsey rolled again, this time coming up with a two.
“First to get eaten, last to lick,” Bethany observed. “And Halee’s the exact opposite.”
“Some girls have all the luck,” Halee groused good-naturedly. Then she turned her head to look at Chelsey, flashing her a feral grin. “Everyone else clear the couch,” she demanded. “I’m going to tear this chick apart.” Naomi and Bethany stood in unison, rounding the coffee table to plunk down on the love seat.
“And no cheating,” Halee added. “Hands stay clear of private parts, girls. Everyone has to wait their turn.”
Bethany sat up straight, folding her hands primly in her lap. “Fine, be the fun police.”
“Halee hates fun,” Naomi agreed. Everyone but Halee cracked up again.
Ignoring her younger sister, Halee turned back to Chelsey. “Lie down and spread ‘em,” she ordered.
“Yes, ma’am!” Chelsey exclaimed, twisting around and parting her legs to reveal a lightly-downed pussy. Getting down on her knees, Halee ran a hand up the younger girl’s thigh, going straight to her center.
Chelsey shuddered. “Ohhhh, yes.”
“Already wet,” Halee murmured, shaking her head in mock-disdain. “What’s been running through your mind, you dirty girl?” Not waiting for an answer, she moved in, sliding a finger into Chelsey’s pussy, then planting her tongue on an engorged clitoris. Chelsey’s breath hitched, then she broke into a low moan, moving her hips in time with Halee’s licking.
Hannah had informed the girls earlier that she intended to watch a movie in her room. She was in fact doing nothing of the sort, having intentionally left her bedroom door slightly ajar. At the first sound of soft moans, she slipped a hand beneath the waistband of her panties, shivering with pleasure as she circled her clit with the tip of a finger.
She picked up the pace, doing her best to control her breathing enough to hear the goings-on in the next room. She couldn’t quite tell which of the girls was making those ecstatic sounds. Well, it’s not Bethany, she told herself. I know all too well what noises she makes during sex.
Several months had passed since Hannah last made love to her daughter. Now that she’d chosen to get serious with Antoinette, and Bethany was making a go of things with Halee, it had seemed best to take a step back from their incestuous activities. It was the right move to make, Hannah mused, but I do miss sex with Bethany. Halee sure better appreciate what she’s got.
Hannah was within shouting distance of climax when an idea occurred to her. Plucking her phone from the nightstand, she pulled up her text thread with Antoinette, who had informed her a few hours ago that something urgent had come up, so she’d be driving down to Cedar Rapids in the morning. Hannah had a pretty good idea that it had something to do with that kidnapping incident the previous month, and hoped rather fervently that her girlfriend knew what she was doing. Pushing the thought aside, she began to type.
The girls are getting it on in my living room. It’s a full-on sex party! We haven’t really talked boundaries. Is voyeurism okay, so long as I keep my hands (and other parts!) to myself?
Within seconds, the reply came. Pics or it didn’t happen!
Chuckling, Hannah pushed herself to the edge of the bed, stood, and shucked off her panties. Now properly attired for the occasion, she padded into the living room.
The two girls on the love seat turned their heads in her direction. Halee’s head jerked up from between Chelsey’s legs, Chelsey twisting her upper half around to look. Eight eyes widened, then four mouths split into grins at the sight of Hannah’s nudity.
“Looking to get in on the fun, Mom?” inquired Bethany.
Hannah’s mouth widened into a grin. “I’m just here to watch,” she replied. “Oh, and Antoinette wants pictures, if it’s all right with you girls.” Taking a small detour on her way to the recliner, Hannah rummaged in a drawer of a small desk that occupied the space between the front door and the corner of the room. She came up with a digital camera.
Naomi seemed uneasy. “Um, I don’t know about having my picture taken…”
“It’s okay, sis,” Halee murmured. “You can trust Hannah.”
“Yeah,” Bethany chimed in. “Mom and Antoinette do this kind of thing a lot, but they’re totally careful with the images.”
“Super-careful,” Hannah told the frowning girl. “That’s why I use this digital camera when I want to take sexy pictures. It isn’t connected to the web.”
“Um, that’s okay, I guess,” Naomi said, then grinned. “Can I get copies?”
Hannah shook her head. “They can’t leave this apartment, sweetie. But any time you want to come over and look at them…”
Bethany smirked. “Yeah, then you can take all your clothes off and pose for a few more!”
Hannah snickered. Turning the camera on, she crossed to the recliner and settled in. “Okay. As you were.“
“Yes, damn it!” Chelsey blurted, pulling Halee’s head back down. “I was just about to come!”
The girl wasn’t kidding. Within seconds of Halee’s renewed ministrations, Chelsey was moaning ecstatically with every breath. Hannah snapped off a couple of shots, one hand holding the camera, the other toying with her juicy cunt. Her middle finger engaged her clitoris, a powerful sensation shuddering through her. She’d pushed herself right to the edge of orgasm while still in her room, and was surprised to discover that she was still pretty close. I might be able to get a couple of climaxes out of this.
“I’m coming!” Chelsey wailed. Her hips undulated, and Halee gamely held on for the ride, her tongue and fingers still working furiously. The young girl’s ardor pushed Hannah’s own excitement up a notch, and that was all it took. She yelped as the unexpected birth of her orgasm took hold, body shuddering, teeth clenched. Chelsey released her held breath, then went limp. Hannah panted like a marathon runner as a few more hard waves shook her body, then she too relaxed.
“I think Mom came, too!” Bethany crowed.
“Sure did,” Hannah got out, her voice unsteady.
“Did you get good pics?” Halee wanted to know, lifting her head from between Chelsey’s thighs. Her mouth was glistening with the younger girl’s fluids.
“Got a couple,” Hannah replied.
“Okay,” said Bethany, consulting her hastily scribbled notes. “My turn! Naomi eats me.”
“Exactly how did you determine the order here?” Hannah wanted to know.
“Dice rolls,” Halee replied, sitting up.
Hannah guffawed with laughter. “I love it!”
Naomi turned to Bethany, wrapped a hand around the back of her head, and pulled her into a deep, sensuous kiss. Hannah realized that despite being only a minute or two post-climax, she was already heating up again.
The two girls parted. “How do you want to do this?” Naomi asked.
“Can I sit on your face?” Bethany replied.
Naomi pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I’m not sure it’ll work on the couch. Here, let’s do it this way.” Pushing herself off of the love seat, she stretched out on the thick shag carpet. A grinning Bethany practically launched, straddling her friend’s head, then lowered her dripping cunt to Naomi’s open mouth.
As Naomi’s tongue snaked out to brush her clit, Bethany let out an explosive gasp. “Oh, yeah—don’t stop!”
Hannah snapped off a few more photos, reaching down with the other hand to give her throbbing snatch some attention. This time she buried two fingers deep inside of herself, grinding her palm against the clit. The sensations were immediate and powerful, taking her to the brink of another orgasm. She carefully slowed her pace, not wanting to teeter over the edge just yet.
On the floor, Bethany was shuddering, her breath coming in hitches and starts as Naomi worked furiously with her tongue, grasping Bethany’s ass with both hands.
“Mmm, I’m close,” Bethany moaned. “Someone p-put a finger in me!”
Halee was off the couch in a flash, kneeling down next to Naomi, hand cupping the girl’s buttocks as she eased a finger into her from behind.
Hannah snapped off a shot of this exciting new twist to the lovemaking, then let her camera hand drop to her lap, her own orgasm approaching like a highballing freight train.
“OhgodohgodOHMYGOD!” Bethany howled, thrashing about as a frenzied orgasm took her. She threw her head back, her breath hissing through clenched teeth.
Hannah let herself come once more, palm grinding her clit, three fingers working furiously inside the vagina. She moaned, “Oh… oh… OH!” her voice rising to a shriek, then collapsed back in the chair.
Halee shook her head, staring at Hannah in disbelief. “Holy crap! Did you just come again?”
“Guilty,” Hannah panted.
“I feel like I could,” Chelsey admitted.
Bethany raised her head, her face flushed. “New rule. Anyone who already came is free to touch themselves,” . “It’s the people who didn’t get off yet who have to wait their turn.”
“Who’s the fun police now?” Halee grumbled.
“It’s my turn!” Naomi proclaimed. She was still lying on the floor, squeezing her thighs together. “I’m going completely freaking nuts here, you guys.”
“Poor kid. Just stay right where you are,” said Bethany. She eased her way down Naomi’s body, nestling between her legs. “Now, let’s see. One finger or two?”
“Oh God, two!” said Naomi, her voice rising in pitch, then trailing off into a whimper as Bethany penetrated her.
“We good?” Bethany asked, working her fingers in and out of the girl’s juicy cunt with a wet sloshing sound.
“Very good,” Naomi moaned, already moving her hips in time with her friend’s thrusts.
Bethany continued to pleasure the younger girl, driving her to near-hysteria. Sensing Naomi was on the cusp of release, she grinned. “Ready to get licked?”
Naomi rolled her eyes. “Please, already!”
When Bethany planted her warm, wet tongue on Naomi’s clit, the blonde girl let out a low wail.
Hannah was stunned by how quickly her arousal had come roaring back. Something about watching her daughter fuck another girl always seemed to get her engine humming in a big way. Reaching for the camera in her lap, she snapped off a new batch of pictures, capturing the action taking place on her carpet. As she aimed and clicked with her right hand, she allowed the left to steal back down to tease her clitoris. Already thoroughly stimulated, Hannah soon found herself on the edge of another climax.
Three orgasms in one shot? Why not; I’m feeling ambitious.
Like before, she held the moment of release at arm’s length, touching everything down there but her clit, still taking pictures as Naomi writhed to the caress of Britney’s mouth, alternately gasping and moaning. Then Chelsey leaned in, engaging Naomi’s mouth in a hungry kiss, and Halee began to tweak her sister’s nipples.
Unwilling to hold off for another minute, Hannah returned to her clit, rubbing furiously. “Oh, lord, I’m going to come again,” she said, amused by how matter-of-fact it sounded. Then all further thought was driven from her mind as another orgasm claimed her. Even as it subsided, she felt another building, and withdrew her finger, needing to catch her breath.
“I’m coming, too!” Naomi cried out, her body spasming wildly. She finally went limp, and Bethany popped up, grinning and licking her lips.
Bouncing to her feet, Halee crossed over to the love seat and plopped down,scooting back until her butt rested on the front edge of the cushion. “No more waiting,” she growled. “I’ve suffered enough. Get in here, Chelsey.”
“Can someone else take over on the camera?” Hannah asked, cupping her vulva as Chelsey knelt between Halee’s legs. “Right now, I really need to use both hands.”
As Chelsey got to work, plunging her tongue between Halee’s sweet pussy lips, Bethany clumsily got to her feet and crossed the room to take the camera from Hannah’s hand. Settling on the arm of the chair, she wrapped an arm around her mother’s shoulders as the red-headed woman buried three fingers deep inside of her cunt, using the other hand to engage her clit.
Hannah nestled into her daughter, finger-fucking herself furiously while applying the slightest pressure to her clit. She could already feel that fourth orgasm lurking inside, requiring only a tiny amount of stimulus to unleash it.
Halee was moaning, twisting her head to one side, then the other. “Oh, God, it’s about t-to happen,” she panted, then gave a long, low moan.
Mine too, sweetie, thought Hannah.
Bethany was snapping off one picture after another with her free hand, squeezing her mother tightly with the other arm.
As Halee’s moans escalated to shouts, Hannah allowed the finger that was pressing against her clit to bear down harder, then brought her thumb into play to give the fleshy nub a tweak. Within seconds she and Halee were crying out in unison, thrashing about as they climaxed together. Halee soon went limp, but just as Hannah’s orgasm subsided, she felt another coming hard on its heels. This time she just let it happen, raising her butt from the chair, an animal-like howl wrenched from her lips as she reached her peak.
Bethany was quick to respond to Hannah’s final moment of rapture. Launching herself from the arm of the chair to the floor, she clicked off three photos in quick succession, capturing her mother in the throes of ecstasy.
As Hannah’s last climax of the evening died away, she collapsed back against the chair, eyes closed. She hadn’t felt this spent since the final day of study for her medical boards.
Halee’s voice penetrated the fog. “Did she just have—oh my God, she just came again. That’s four orgasms! Holy crap.”
Despite her fatigue and the soreness between her legs, Hannah smiled. “Five, actually.” Closing her eyes, she sank back into the embrace of her reclining chair, blissfully content.
***
Two girls lay side by side in Bethany’s narrow bed, arms around each other. Chelsey and Naomi had taken the fold-out couch in the living room. Hannah was still out there with them; nobody had been able to pry her out of the recliner. In the end, Bethany had simply thrown a blanket over her mom before the rest of them settled in for the evening.
Hannah and the younger girls were sound asleep, but neither Halee or Bethany was quite ready to crash just yet. They’d made love in Bethany’s bed, and were now nestled together, basking in one another’s presence.
“How’s the coding course going?” Bethany ventured after a long silence.
“Pretty good,” said Halee. “I’m learning a lot, and it’s fun. But I’m already starting to think it’s gonna be mostly a hobby thing for me. You know, hacking on existing open source software for fun. Not going into development as a career.”
Bethany shrugged. “It’s not like you have to decide what you want to do with your life by tomorrow.”
“I think I already know. I want to be a chef.”
Bethany smiled. “You’ll be a great one! I mean, you’re already the best cook I know.”
“Thanks,” said Halee with a laugh. “Somebody in the family had to get it figured out. Dad was doing all the cooking right after my mom got arrested, and ‘edible’ was the highest praise you could possibly lavish on his cuisine.”
Bethany shook her head. “You don’t cook like him, but you’re sure starting to talk like him.” Both girls cracked up.
“Anyway,” said Bethany, “you’ve been doing at least half the cooking for five people for a while, huh?”
“It’s probably closer to seventy-five percent at this point,” said Halee. “I did just a little bit at first, when I got tired of struggling to differentiate between pork chops and steak. But I found out I enjoyed doing it, and it was tastier, so I sort of started taking over. And now it turns out there’s gonna be one more at the table before too long, at least sometimes.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty wild. How’s your dad doing with that, anyway?”
“Who knows? Dad just puts the brave face on, all the time. I don’t think anyone ever really knows how he’s feeling about anything. That man’s eyes are not a window into his soul, y’know?”
“Yeah.” Bethany seemed to mull that over. “Have he and Mallory worked out custody yet?”
“Uh-uh.” Halee shook her head. “But they’re all being pretty adult about it. They seem to like each other, and that helps a lot. Some of the women my dad’s slept with over the past few years—God, I shudder even to think if it’d been one of them.”
She took a deep breath and went on. “Anyway, they’re communicating; talking on the phone and all that. I don’t know all the details. But we’re going down to Bronning the first weekend of next month, at least me and Dad are. There’s gonna be a big to-do. Mallory’s playing a gig with her old band, and a bunch of people are going to be there. Dad’s going to the show, and hopefully in the space of a few days they can get some kind of arrangement finalized.”
“Yeah, Mom and I are going down for that with Antoinette. It’ll be fun! Is Naomi going, do you know?”
“I know for sure Dad’s leaving Dawn and Maya with Stacy Wood,” said Halee. “He gave me and Naomi the option to come or not, our choice. Naomi knows about the baby; the other two don’t just yet. But anyway, Naomi was still thinking about it last I checked. I think she’ll stay here. It’s kind of up in the air whether Chels will still be in town when school starts back up, and they want to spend every second together that they can.”
“I can understand that,” said Bethany, squeezing Halee more tightly. Halee returned the embrace. They exchanged tender kisses, then drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms.
Soon to come: Chapter Twenty-Eight!
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