Family Comfort Ch 13

All Characters In This Story Are 18+ Years Old

*

"What are you going to do with Grandma's ashes, Uncle Claude?"

Nel sat, between her uncle and her mother, on the leather bench seat of Claude's 1966 Oldsmobile Toronado. Claude was driving, using 40 years of experience to maneuver safely, while he was lost in his thoughts about his recently departed and cremated mother, Carla James. His sister, Sally, equally isolated and distant, stared out through the tinted passenger window. The urban landscape was bright in the late May Denver afternoon sun, but it slipped by, unseen and unappreciated. Nel's hands were folded in her lap around a small purple velvet bag, containing a vial with a tablespoon of Carla's cinders. Her stark, simple question was a pistol shot in the closed cabin of the old luxury coupe.

Claude and Sally snapped their heads around to Nel, as if an alien being had just materialized in their midst. "Huh? What?" Claude's confusion tumbled from him. Then, returning to the present, he answered, "Oh. I have something special in mind, kiddo." He smiled warmly and patted her thigh, above her knee, but below the hemline of her denim skirt. "How about you?" He asked, "Any thoughts?"

Sally, once again interested in the living occupants of the car, dropped her left arm around Nel's shoulders and chimed in, "Yes, hon', tell us what you want to do with your little bit of Grandma."

Nel paused. "Well, I remember, right after we got here, Grandma took me up to Pikes Peak and she said there was no higher place in America between there and the Atlantic Ocean. I think she would like it if I just sprinkled her where she could look East and see the sunrise every morning." She gave her mother and uncle a tentative look and asked, "Do you think that's, like, too dopey?"

"I do NOT!" Sally answered emphatically. "I think that's just too precious! I wish I had thought of it." She twisted in her lapbelt and kissed Nel on the cheek.

"I agree," Claude said, giving Nel's leg a quick tight squeeze before returning his hand to the steering wheel. "How would you like it if I drove up with you tomorrow or Sunday?" He volunteered.

"Oh, that would be terrific, Uncle Claude!" Nel promptly answered.

"OK, then," Claude said, "Let's plan on that. The urn itself, of course," he continued, "will be kept in a place of honor in the house. We can all think on where that might be, unless you already have a spot picked out, Sis?"

"Well, she loved the patio garden." Sally mused aloud, "That stone Chinese pedestal lantern, which I have never used for that purpose, would be a perfect niche, wouldn't it?" She leaned forward and looked around her daughter at Claude. "As for Pikes Peak, would you mind terribly if I did not go with you? The company has been great about bereavement leave, but I probably should take a look at a couple of projects before I go in to the office Monday." She watched their faces closely for any reaction as she said, "Besides... it will give you guys a great opportunity to really bond... you know?" She grinned broadly and winked. Uncle and niece each received her open message through their respective secret lenses, smiling their acknowledgement.

"Yeah, Mom, perfect!" Nel quickly agreed, "But what about YOUR personal vial? Are you going to do something with that?"

"I haven't given it much thought, dear," Sally replied. "I guess I'll just keep it in my jewelry box until I figure something else out."

Claude pulled the Olds up to the curb and they all walked to the house, again quiet with their own thoughts. Inside, they parted: Nel vanished into her bedroom, Sally headed for the patio and Claude closed himself in the den. Half an hour later, Claude tapped on Nel's bedroom door. She opened it a crack, saw it was her uncle and stepped back. "Hey, unk," she smiled, "Come on in, I could use your advice."

Claude stepped through the door and saw his 18-year old niece had shed her denim skirt, along with her opaque navy tights, and had tossed them onto her perpetually unmade bed beside Turk, her stuffed plush dragon. She stood in front of her closet mirror wearing a pink floral push-up bra with satin cups and white cotton boy-cut panties. She looked,through the mirror, at her uncle looking at her and she grinned. "Do you like this bra?" She asked, turning around, holding her hands under her breasts. She looked down to her left and then to her right and then up at Claude. "I can't decide... Do you think it makes me look, you know, BIGGER?" She stepped close and dropped her hands to Claude's waist and then around to the front of his wool slacks. Cupping her right hand and pushing it against his package, she said, "I think it definately makes YOU bigger, unk." She giggled and squeezed. "I liked it when you touched my leg in the car. Do you think Mom knows... about... US?" She asked innocently, stroking the palm of her hand along Claude's stiffening member.

"Uhnnn, Nel... kiddo," Claude groaned and choked out a reply, "I wouldn't even know how to ask her." He temporized, hoping the subject would die. "I do like that bra. It is flattering, and," he said, swatting her backside, "It will look even better when you COVER IT UP with a top!" He grinned as she made a face and stuck out her tongue at him. "Listen," he said, "No kidding around, now. Get dressed and come out to the living room. We need to leave for the restaurant." He turned and walked out, closing the door behind him.

Nel left her tights on the bed and pulled her denim skirt back on over her bare legs. She reached into her sweater drawer and extracted a V-neck, back buttoned, pink lamb's wool sweater. Holding it up she saw it matched the pearly color of her bra cups. "Perfect!" She said, grabbing a thin pink polyester camisole from her underwear drawer. She pulled the cami, and then the sweater, over her head, tugging until her breasts were accentuated just the way she wanted them, with the merest hint of her bra's edge peeping at the swell of her bosom behind the V-neck. She kicked her bare feet into a pair of ropy wedgies and left for the living room.

When Nel got there, Claude was sitting on the sofa, exactly as he had been yesterday when he paddled and fucked her. The memory made her wet, although she also saw her mother, sitting to his left, and that put a damper on the whole thing. Claude looked up as she stepped down from the hall. Patting the cushion to his right, he said, "You look terrific, Nel. Sit right here for a moment, will you, please?" Not knowing what to expect, Nel shrugged acquiesence and walked over to the couch, sitting as directed.

Claude looked first to Sally and then to Nel. "In the car you asked me what I was going to do with Grandma's ashes," he reviewed. "I said, 'I have something special in mind' and now you are BOTH going to find out what that was." He reached into the inside pocket of his new navy linen blazer and pulled out two long thin white cardboard boxes. Each had a red ribbon and they were stamped with the name 'Zales' in gold ink. He handed one to Nel and the other to Sally.

"What's this? Pens, Claude?" Sally asked with a chuckle, taking the ribbon off her box.

Claude laughed out loud. "No, but in a way you're close," he replied enigmatically.

Nel already had her box open and was separating the cotton filler inside by the time Claude finished his sentence. "A locket! A gold LOCKET!" she cried, holding the small bright heart up and swinging it in front of her eyes on its fine link chain.

Sally had her locket out of the box and laid across the palm of her left hand. Her mouth formed a large 'O' as she sucked in a breath and then said, "Oh, Claude, it's beautiful... so simple, so elegant! Thank you!" She reached around and turned his face toward hers and kissed him warmly.

"Yeah!" Nel said, eager to show her gratitude. "Me too!" She reached over the top of her mother's arm and scooted close to Claude, rubbing his face with a soft warm hand. "Thanks, Uncle Claude!" she bubbled. As soon as she saw Sally remove her lips from his, Nel substituted her own, sneaking her tongue tip in for good measure, before settling back on the couch cushion.

Claude was delighted his presents were so well received. "Look on their backs," he said, "They're inscribed."

"2N-WL-CnC" Read Nel, scrunching her face into a question mark.

"2S-WL-CnC" Echoed Sally, squinting at the tiny print. "What does it mean, Claude?" She asked. Nel nodded her befuddlement, too.

"I'm sorry if it's cryptic," Claude apologized, "There wasn't a lot of room to work with. '2N' and '2S' is 'to Nel' and 'to Sally'... 'WL'..."

"With Love!" Nel guessed proudly, interrupting his translation.

"Right. With love," Claude said, "and 'CnC' means 'Claude and Carla.'" He spread his hands. "Inside each locket, or PENdant," Claude added, turning and winking at Sally, "is half of my reserved part of Carla's ashes. So, don't open the locks... I'll take them back to Zales and have them permanently soldered closed. Then you will always have your mother's and grandmother's heart with you."

Sally and Nel each had small tears dripping from their eyes onto their cheeks. Together they embraced Claude. He wrapped his long strong arms around them and squeezed them tight. "We're a family unit, right? I just want to give you both all the love I possibly can." They held their group hug until Claude said, "Hey! I thought we were going out for dinner?"

Nel kissed his cheek and looked at Sally. "Would it be OK if I didn't go?" She asked, "I kinda want to show Megan my locket and tell her about Pikes Peak... We'll grab somethng to eat at the food court. OK?"

Sally shrugged, "Sure, why not? Grab the spare Nissan keys from the board in the kitchen. But, remember: Midnight or you're a pumpkin!" She smiled as Nel stood and started to leave.

"KIDDO!" Claude called, halting her in her tracks. "Don't forget that heart hasn't been sealed. Be careful not to open it when you show it around, OK?"

"Right, unk!" Nel said over her shoulder and left before anyone changed their mind.

*

In the Toronado, heading for The Briarwood Inn in Golden, Claude stretched out his right arm along the bench seat back. "Slide over, Baby," he said with a low chuckle, "I won't get in a wreck and I won't get fresh, I promise."

Sally undid her lapbelt and scooted across the leather upholstery. "I like not wrecking, but what fun is it if you don't get fresh?" She grinned, kissed Claude's cheek, then laid her left hand lightly on his right leg. "Do I have to make all the moves?" She asked, stabbing her pinkie's fingernail into his muscled inner thigh and tracing a line along his wool slacks' inseam to his crotch.

"Slow down," Claude laughed. "I thought you didn't want an accident."

"I said, 'no wreck' I didn't say no 'accidents'," Sally retorted, covering his balls with her palm and holding them snug. "You know, you make me feel like a young girl..." she sighed.

"Well, I guess we're even, then, because you make ME feel like a young bull!" Claude countered. "But I thought our arrangement was: 1. Dinner; and, 2. Make Sally feel like a WOMAN." He looked at his daughter and smiled. "Or am I wrong?"

Sally pulsed her hand and moved from Claude's nuts to his fat manhood, struggling to break free of the trousers on his his left leg. She rubbed her fingers along the hard, defined outline of his erection and repeatedly tapped her index finger on its soft plump tip. "Oh, no," She said, huskily, "You are not wrong... but I don't need to go to a fancy restaurant in Golden. I'm already in the mood, and, it seems, so are YOU!" She stopped drumming on his dick and brought her hand back to its original position on his right leg. Smiling sweetly, demurely even, she suggested, "Why don't we turn around? There's a nice little El Pollo Loco on the way home." Charming Claude with an open face and wide-eyes, Sally asked, "You like juicy, finger-lickin' chicken and tasty tamales and tacos, don't you?"

Claude thought for a quick two-count. "I'm sure The Briarwood Inn has had more than one broken reservation over the years," he said, swinging the Olds into a left turn lane. Making a U-turn with the light, he reversed their course. "Tell me where to go, Sis," he said, adding "I hope they have a drive-through We may be overdressed for their dining room!"

*

Home again, Claude and Sally walked briskly to the house carrying their take-out trash. They had wolfed down their meal, hardly aware that it was truly delicious, and were ready to move on to their second agenda item. Sally shut and locked the front door behind them as Claude quickly took their empty food sacks and drink cups into the kitchen and tossed them in the garbage.

He turned around and nearly bowled Sally over as she followed him into the kitchen from the foyer. She reached her arms behind Claude's head, pulling him toward her. He coiled his arms about her waist, driving forward, through her blocking position, and pinned her against the opposite wall of the entry hall.

Holding Claude's neck tight in the crook of her right arm, Sally pulled with her left hand at his tie-knot, and opened his collar button, all while ferociously grinding her mouth hard against his lips and gums. Their teeth clicked and neither cared whose nose tip was in whose nostril as their faces wrestled.

Claude's hands were trapped between Sally's suit jacket and her chiffon blouse. His knuckles scraped the hall's wall plaster through her worsted wool as his fingers twisted and flipped the hooks-and-eyes on the back of her bra strap. Sally finally freed his tie, yanked it through his collar and attacked the remainder of his shirt buttons.

As soon as Claude released the tension on Sally's underwired bra he felt the fullness of her breasts puddle briefly against his chest before her manic hands forced a separation and popped this buttons down to his waist. He took advantage of the space and tugged her blouse's delicate material up and out from the waistband of Sally's skirt. He pushed his left hand under the loose sheer fabric and seized her right breast just as she snapped the gap closed by dropping her right hand to his mid-back and pulling him against herself.

Sally's talented swift left hand unbuckled, unhooked and unzipped Claude's pleated slacks. Gravity took them as her fingers flew to the waist of his boxers. She stretched their elastic and shoved until they sagged below his butt like a hip-hop gangsta. Meanwhile, Claude pulled his right hand down the wall, inside Sally's jacket, and over her ass. His fingers flexed and clawed, bunching her wool skirt higher until its hem covered his hand and he was grabbing her soft bottom through her silk half-slip. Undeterred by this additonal layer, he extended his fingers and pushed them firmly between her legs, shoving the slip and panties with them into his daughter's eager, wet, prepared pussy.

"Uuuhhhnnn!" She cried as his long fingers found their mark and depressed her hidden clitoris. He drew his hand back, slowly, along her widening crease, pulling her panties down in the front as he went. Extending his thumb, he pawed her ass crack until the polyester briefs' back waistband was gathered and stretched across her cheeks. Now, closing his hand, he pulled front and rear. His hand slid cleanly against her nude bottom to her juicing twat and he re-inserted his fingers in the trough. "OHHHHHH, nnnNNNNAH!" Sally wailed, unintelligibly through Claude's open mouth and into his throat.

He thrilled to feel her clawing at his back, seizing his cock with her hand and pulling him toward her, into her. He scooted his hips and shuffled his feet, forcing Sally flatter and higher against the wall. His cock's head sensed, then felt, then pushed through her open slick pussy lips. He withdrew his fingers, making room for his determined dick. Sliding his hand back and up he drove his greased middle and ring fingers into Sally's asshole at the same time as he thrust his staff ,straight and true, into her cunt.

"AYYYYYYAYYYYY!" She screamed, breaking her seal on his mouth and tossing her head back and forth from her left to her right shoulder, like Stevie Wonder on stage. "YESSSS! Yesss! Oh Yesssss!" she cried over and over as she came under his double whammy.

Claude pulled his left hand from her tit and lowered his arm, slinging it under her turbulent butt, supporting her on the wall as he pounded and ground against her pubis. Sally's feet, clear of the floor, kicked on the wall. Her panties hung by her garter straps until her deft desperate fingers unsnapped them and the useless lingerie pooled, in defeat, around her suspended right ankle.

With newfound liberty, Sally hiked her ass and locked her legs around Claude's rocking, driving hams. Their forward thrusts combined synergistically. Sally felt like his thick cock was apt to pierce her stomach at any moment. As her first orgasm became her second and then her third, Claude snarled, "AARRGGHH!" and body slammed himself against her. His balls exploded, his head swam, his heart raced, as his dick pumped mightily and bathed in his sister's climactic torrents.

"Oh my God, Claude," Sally wheezed, unhooking her ankles and sliding down the wall. "Oh my God, what you DO to me!" She grinned crazily and softly stroked the side of his rugged face. "I love you so much," she gasped.

"What do you think I DID 'do to you,' Baby?" He laughed weakly, as he tried to catch his breath. "We didn't make it to the bedroom, did we?" he panted, slowly pulling his still firm cock out of Sally's cunt, trailing a thread of their juices along with it. He reached down and pulled his pants up, holding them at his hips. "Come on, Sally, let's go lay down."

Sally bent over and picked up her panties, noting they were irreparably stretched out of shape where their elastic waist was torn. She followed Claude down the hall to the master bedroom. Both of them used the walls as handrails for balance.

Claude opened the bedroom door and dropped his trousers. Kicking them off, along with his new Johnston and Murphy slip-ons, he shed his boxers and threw them on the straight chair in the corner. Sally entered and laughed aloud, seeing his hairy muscled legs, naked, but for his socks, reaching up to the bottom of his navy blazer topping his flapping white dress shirt tails. "You look so ridiculous, and I could just eat you up!" she giggled.

Claude turned to face her, his still half-hard prick swinging like a sail's boom under his starched broadcloth shirt. Sally's deshabille was equally laughable. He grinned shamelessly as he eyed her toe to head. Her hose were sagging. Her suit skirt and half-slip were twisted around her waist like a silk and wool rope cumberbund. Sally's chiffon blouse hem was stuck haphazardly, on her right side, under her brassiere as it hung, pointlessly, over her tits which played peek-a-boo with her every breath.

Claude did not laugh, however. Rather, he peeled off is blazer and shirt as a unit, tossed them on the chair with shorts, and stepped toward Sally. Scooping her up in his arms, he pivoted and carried her in two strides to the king-size bed, laying her across it on her back. "Raise your legs high, Baby," he directed, observing matter-of-factly, "You're leaking."

Sally crunched her toned tummy and lifted her feet in the air. She contracted her kegel muscles and smiled. "Thank you, Daddy!" she replied, unbuttoning her thin blouse while her winking pink pussy sucked up Claude's escaping gray greasy gobs.

Claude pulled off Sally's nylons and stared, fascinated, as his deposited thick oozing cream-pie stopped, reversed its flow, then, with a final wiggling glint, disappeared back into his daughter's receptive cunt. He knelt on the floor at the edge of the bed, parking his palms under Sally's ass, and leaned in to her matted curly light-brown forest. It sparkled with beads of their mingled sweat and the redolence of her sex was intoxicating. He planted his mouth at her honeyed entrance and chased his seed with his tongue.