"Gobble Gobble" is Part Six of the sexual story of my life. "Trick or Treat, Daddy?" which was posted on 10/30 was Part Five. I am purging my soul. Telling of my past sins is part of my repentance.
All the sorority sisters at that certain institution of higher learning were all packed up to go home for Thanksgiving break.
Usually the really bad weather along the Great Lakes waits until January or February but once every few years we get some horrific storms in November and December. Already over eighteen inches of snow had fallen in less than two days and much more was on the way, according to the weather man. It just wasn't the snow; it was blowing like crazy and the wind chill was about thirty below. Brrrrr!
The airport was closed and the chances of driving anywhere safely appeared to be slim and none. Finally, we sisters all said the hell with it and called our family and friends and told them we best not come home.
"Honey," my dad said, "I miss you so much! Ever since what happened when you came home for my birthday and Halloween, all I do is think about you. And your brother Danny is driving me crazy with 'Is Sis coming home, is Sis coming home?' I didn't realize you two had become so close. And his buddy, Ryan, has a big crush on you. He paid Danny fifty bucks just for a picture of you, the one when you were captain of the cheerleaders."
"Oh, not to worry Daddy. I'll be home for Christmas. I'll wrap me up special just for you!"
I was using the speaker phone and Rebecca, who was my roomie in the sorority house, was listening. We mostly shared everything but I hadn't gotten around to telling her about me and Daddy yet. I didn't know how to approach the subject.
"What's up with that?" Rebecca asked after I said goodbye to Daddy. She looked totally shocked. "Are you fucking your father?"
"Don't be silly Rebecca. We just joke around." She could tell I was lying.
Rebecca started to cry which was unusual because she rarely got upset over much of anything except when her boyfriend dragged her to his bowling league every Tuesday night. He was an older guy and really was into this bowling thing. You know, the monogrammed shirt with "Roger" on it and all that good stuff.
Every Tuesday night the standing joke was "Rebecca, how do you spell bowling? B-L-O-W-I-N-G? You got the 'L" in the wrong place!" We were so mean. What Rebecca didn't like about Tuesday nights was that good old Roger would insist that she suck off all his buddies on the team. He even bought her a bowling shirt for her birthday, with "Deep Throat" stenciled on it.
"Hey, what's the matter girl?" I asked, very concerned. "You're not crying about THAT again are you? I told you, think of it as, well, milking the cows. You're a farm girl, right?"
"Oh no, not THAT. Just feeling homesick I guess. I miss my dad too. We are real tight. She blushed. What are we going to do for Thanksgiving? Shit, we can't even cook."
"We'll think of something to amuse ourselves, don't we always?" With that I kissed her softly and sensuously on the lips. "No time like now to start, right?"
Rebecca had the most incredible breasts, as in almost none. She was the most flat-chested girl I had ever seen over the age of eleven. But her nipples were huge and the tips were over an inch long when she got turned on. She never wore a bra and with her short hair looked like a guy with an AAA battery for a nipple tip.
I slipped my hand up her shirt and began toying with her nipples and the tips got hard as a battery too. She kissed me back and dropped her hand to my waist, unbuttoned my jeans and slipped her hand inside over my panties. She could feel I was already getting moist.
Just then we heard an incredible crashing sound downstairs. "What was that?" Rebecca screamed as we pulled away from each other, startled.
It was the roof of the back sun porch that collapsed because of the weight of the snow.
"We got to call Jim!" we said almost in unison. Jim was the landlord and a real cool old dude. They elected me the one to call.
"Jim, Jim, the roof on the back porch caved in!"
"Is everybody OK?"
"Yeah, but it's really a big mess."
"OK, I want you girls to do something for me. Go up on the roof and shovel all the snow off before more of it caves in."
"Whaaat? You're kidding, right?"
"No, no, please? I'll tell you what, you do that for me and I'll bring over some beer and hard stuff for you girls. Who could I possibly find to go up there and do that on Thanksgiving eve?"
"Hang on Jim," I said and the sorority sisters went into conference.
"No problem, Jim, we are on are way up there. Up on the roof top, ho ho ho! You get your sweet ass over here with the booze."
Actually this was big fun but we all got very cold and very wet very quickly. We were sliding off the roof like sleds into the huge snowdrifts on the ground.
After we got all the snow off the roof and went back inside we all shucked off our wet cold clothes except for our bras and panties and sat by the roaring fire in the wood burning stove in the den. Yeow, that felt so good! Next best thing to getting laid.
We started sipping some brandy and talking about how we should celebrate Thanksgiving. We started talking about the games that girls play.
This was a Catholic institution of higher learning founded by Jesuits that we attended. Over half the professors were priests. The favorite game of the sorority sisters when no boys were around was "Confession." You know, we pretended we were doing our confession. In order to better simulate the real thing, we even built a confessional booth out of huge cardboard boxes we got from a furniture store.
Sandy usually got the game going, one way or another. Her name ended in "ski" and of course her hero was the Pope. I'll never forget the time she asked, "Why do they say the Pope is infallible?"
