I followed my sister in law back into our cabin, winced at the brightness of the lighting inside. Alice was washing the glasses at the sink; Baby sprawled against one corner of the sofa, facing the fireplace, long legs stretched out, head back. I came up behind Alice, put my hands on her hips and nuzzled her ear. Whispered, "You about ready for bed? I could screw a snake, somebody'd hold its head!"
She dried her hands, turned into me. Draped her arms over my shoulders, looked up into my eyes. "But, Davie dear; we're not done out here yet!"
"What?"
"You haven't told us about YOUR first time!" She took my hand, led me to the sofa, and nestled herself in at the opposite end from her sister. "Dave? Build a fire. And then turn out the lights."
My Boy Scout skills deserted me. I couldn't remember if the kindling went on top of the logs, or vice versa. Oh; and paper and matches were somehow involved, right?
I finally had a trio of pine logs crackling in the fireplace, sending flickering rays of light dancing around the cabin. I killed the lights. Alice patted the sofa cushion between them. "Sit," she commanded.
The space between the two sisters seemed incredibly tight. I can't be THAT fat, I thought, wedging myself between them. Baby's left breast was warm against my right arm. Alice put her right hand on my left knee. "Tell us," she whispered. Baby touched my cheek. "Yeah," she cooed. "Tell us!"
I let out a deep sigh. Suddenly cold sober and very horny. It dawned on me that we were playing some kind of game; that explained the giggles and whispers earlier, on the porch. O.K. Two can play this. "The first time, you asked? Let's see . . .Mom and Dad used to send me to my grandparent's for two weeks every summer, while they went off on vacation; alone. A second honeymoon for them, and heaven for me. Spoiled rotten-stay up as late as I wanted, new baseball gloves and ice cream ‘till I barfed. Anyway, the next door neighbor's daughter, Annette Johnson, was my first. . ."
"Yeah? Go on. . ."
"I was five, and Annette was a VERY experienced six year old. She got me nekkid, poured pond water on my willie, told me that her lying on top of me was how babies were made. I didn't entirely believe that, but it made my little dick stiff and I tingled down there. Same sensation, incidentally, that I could get by shinnying up a tree!"
"Fuck you!"
" Asshole!"
I don't know who said which, and they both pummeled me.
"What!?" I said.
"Maybe you don't understand ‘first time', you dope. ‘First time' means the first time you penetrated a vagina with your miserable little penis and had an orgasm. Now: search your memory banks!"
"Oh, THAT'S what you mean! Well; we'll have to fast forward, about, oh, thirteen, fourteen years. I was a senior-not as precocious as you two. I had a summer job with a lawn and garden guy. He'd drop me, a mower, and a weed whacker someplace, pick me up four hours later. Pay me twenty bucks, charge the owner fifty." I kicked off my shoes, stretched my legs out.
"Yeah?" someone asked.
"koo koo ka choo, Mrs. Robinson," I said.
Alice moved her hand from my knee to my thigh. Squeezed. "I don't think you ever told me this story. Who was Mrs. Robinson?"
"Mrs. Robinson was Mrs. Kirshbaum. Owner of the place I was supposed to mow. Which I did; quarter acre of grass surrounding an in-ground pool. Flower beds flanking a cabana and terrace; three steps up toward the house. The whole back yard enclosed by a high privacy fence.
It was hot as hell and I had my shirt off; draped over a chaise by the pool. I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye, looked up at the second floor of the Tudor house. Someone was watching me from the half shadows of a leaded glass window. A tall, slim figure, dressed in a black caftan. She; it was definitely a she, watched as I pushed the mower back and forth, circling, closer to the pool.
My boss had emphasized that I do a neat job at this place; the owner was strict. No weeds missed in the flowerbeds, no grass clippings in the pool. So I killed the mower after the final circle around the pool, grabbed the skimmer net, and started getting grass clippings off the surface before they reached the filter. Hot, hot, hot. Sweat dripped off my nose. I knelt at the edge of the pool, leaned over the tile coping, scooped a double handful of chlorine scented water up, splashed my face.
A foot touched my ass, pushed me forward into the cool water. I surfaced, sputtering. "What the HELL?" I kicked, used my arms to keep me afloat. The caftan woman from the window stood at the edge of the pool, hands on her slim hips.
"What are doing in my pool, BOY? You're not my POOLBOY!"
"What? You pushed me in!"
"Don't make excuses! Get out!"
I swam to the steps, climbed out, dripping water on the warm bricks. "Go in the cabana and take off those wet clothes!" My shoes squished as I made my way into the little bungalow. I stripped down to my jockey shorts, grabbed one of those big fluffy towels, and started to dry myself. Scared shitless; what the hell was going on here? A shadow fell across the floor. I looked up. Caftan woman stood in the doorway. "I SAID take off your CLOTHES!" She pointed at my sodden briefs. I pulled them down, using the big towel to conceal my shriveled dick. Tossed the underwear on the rest of my clothing.
"Do you know who I am?"
"I-I guess you're the lady who owns this place."
"I'm Eva Kirshbaum. It's German. It means cherry tree. You can call me Madam." She looked about fifty. Black hair, black eyes. Red lips. Very white skin; what I could see of it not covered by the long caftan.
