A Member of the Family, a short story by Rico.Viejo. Date added: 2012-08-17. Times viewed: 7315.

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Intro: More of Jeremy and those crazy Bradfords. Will he survive? (A sequel to the sequel of 'The Test'.) Janeites may hate it, learning what they've been denied.

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Jeremy opened his spit-slimed eyelids in reaction to a scream of outrage. He was trying to push Jane away, against her best efforts to stay glued to him, as Mrs. Bradford, Jane's mother, complained: "Kissing and carrying on in public! What will the neighbors think?"  

"What neighbors? There's not another cabin for miles!"

said Jeremy.  

"Hush, Jeremy," said aggressive Jane. "If mother says there are neighbors, there are neighbors. With binoculars. Could have pitched a tent or something while I was counting your fillings with my tongue. Think I missed one. Better start again."  

"You, too, Missy! They'd be seeing you, too. Get your hand out of his fly!"  

"Yes, Mummy," Jane said reluctantly.  

"You two, up to your room this instant! Jeremy's room!"  

"We better do what she tells us, Angel-puss," Jane told Jeremy. "She's got a temper and a shotgun."

 

When they got to the guest room, Lem, Jane's father, was engaged in screwing a nut onto a huge eyebolt he'd put through the upper panel of the door. "Be done, here, in a minute. You! In there, door closed, broom handle across the doorframe and through here, and you'll stay put in there for as long as we decide," said Lem, releasing the nut from his fingers. "Okay! In you go!"  

Jeremy and Jane stepped inside. They could hear cursing outside. "What's the problem, Daddy?" said Jane, to the flimsy door, ignoring Jeremy for a microsecond.  

"Should have known from the dust-bunnies on the floor we were out of brooms!" complained Lem.  

"How about your polo mallet, Daddy?" said Jane.  

"This nut," said Jeremy. "It's loose. I could just unscrew it and push the thing out."  

"Maybe Daddy didn't think of that. The dock he built last month already fell apart once."  

"And we're on the ground floor. We could just step out of the window," said Jeremy.  

"You're so smart, so observant," cried Janey. "I love you so!"

 

The ground-floorness of the open window was evidenced when Mrs. Bradford appeared at it: "You two are going to have to stay in there until dinner. Bad children! You'll get no lunch, for punishment. We still have our doubts about Handsome, here. We're not taking Jeremy into the family unless we know you can stand being alone together, starving, stressed out, raving, for a few hours."  

"Another test!" said Jeremy.  

"We're big on them," said Mrs. Bradford. "Used to be a school teacher and then a hematologist."

 

"What shall we ever do?" said Jane, after her mother walked off.  

Jeremy eyed the beautiful, smeared-lipstick girl who'd just been devouring his mouth. He eyed the inviting bed, with the cavity in the middle Becky had left. "We could start by undressing you," he suggested.  

"No," said Jane, "you're not seeing a square millimeter of my body."  

"You've got shorts on—shortest shorts I've ever seen—and a bikini top. How much is left? And I saw you naked this morning."  

"Not for very long. That's why I had to sneak up and then run out of the room after I whoopsied."  

"I saw enough. Beautiful!" said Jeremy.  

"No," said Jane, stubbornly. "Fat! Ugly fat!"  

"Fat?" said Jeremy. "You're not fat!"  

"Am! Look!" Jane said, untying her bikini top and removing it. She grabbed a perfect young breast and said: "If that's not fat, what is it? And look at this brown splotch on it with the little lump of fat in the middle!"

 

"I'd better do the taste-test for fat," said Jeremy.  

"What's that?" said Jane, her imagination evidently racing, from the wild look in her eyes.  

"I taste the fat, like bacon or pork belly."  

"If I test out fat, will you stop loving me?" worried Jane.

 

"Who said I love you, you beautiful twit?" thought Jeremy. "I just want to get my cock in you again. And fuck you proper." He didn't say that out loud either. What he did say was: "I will love you no less than I do now. Come here."  

Jane stood bravely, her fists clenched, her eyes squeezed shut, as Jeremy sampled her delightful nipples with lips and tongue—for several minutes.  

When he pulled his head away, Jane said: "Fat?"  

"The kind of fat I like," said Jeremy, fondling them.  

"But fat, still?"  

"Yes, but they're fine."  

"They're kind of like Beth's and she's not fat."  

"Not fat."  

"Lot like Mom's and she's not fat."  

"No, no," said Jeremy. "And your dad's not fat."  

"Daddy's not fat at all," said Jane. "He doesn't have much for breasts, does he?"

 

Jeremy went over and sat on the bed. "Come sit on my lap," he said.  

"Sit?" she said. "That reminds me. Look at this! This is major fat!" She quickly stepped out her short-shorts and boy-shorts, turned away, and bent over. "I can press my hands flat to the floor without bending my knees," she said, incidentally.  

"I really doubt that," said Jeremy. "Show me."  

"See?"  

"Yeah, but can you hold that position?" he said. Jeremy quickly dropped trou, got behind Jane and slid his cock into her.  

"Oohhh!" she cried.  

Almost as if the 'oohhh' was a call for help, her father opened the door and looked in, as if to rescue his virgin-just-that-morning daughter. "A favorite position," he said. "Read somewhere that's the way to get the best fit—in a one-man, one-woman way. Jane? The polo mallet handle's too thick to go through the eyebolt."  

"Golf club?" she grunted, as Jeremy backed his cock out and thrust it into her again.  

"Smart girl!" said her father. "Putter should do the trick!" And left them to their fucking.

 

"Onto the bed," Jeremy said, working them around, like a humping dog trying to find the hole in the humpee. They staggered to the bed as if in horse costume. When they crawled onto the bed, Jane complained: "It came out."  

"No worry," said Jeremy, "in a sec."  

"Don't slip and get it in the Piliff hole," she warned.  

"Philip's hole?"  

"Yours is the one in front, remember?"  

"Maybe it would be better if you were on your back."  

"Less opportunity for error," she agreed.

 

They had one, resounding fuck. It erased all the misery Jeremy had suffered that morning when he'd had to fuck Jane and Beth and Mrs. Bradford for reasons disclosed in an earlier story.

 

Recovering Jeremy held his darling Jane close to him, her dewy body pressed to his sticky one. She had her head on his chest, worrying a wild hair, sticking out of the aureole of a nipple, with her teeth. With a sharp tug, she yanked it out and said: "But I'll get fat when I get older and then you won't do what you do, what you do, oh so well."  

"Nobody in your family is fat," said Jeremy, still feeling follicular pain.  

"Maybe my grandparents were fat. I don't remember. They lived in California and never, ever visited us, for some reason. Let me up." Jane hastened to the door and said: "Daddy?" There was no answer. She unscrewed the nut and the eyebolt fell out of the oversized hole with a great clank and a lesser thunk. She opened the door and yelled: "Daddy!"

 

In less than a minute, her father showed up, naked, rampant. He glanced at his also-naked daughter, accusingly, looked hard and long at the mess on the floor, and said: "Now look what you've done! Beth  was showing me something Bingley did to Elizabeth in 'The Austen Apocrypha'. I suppose you'll want me to fix this before I go back. And what do you want?"  

"Granna and Granpa. Were they fat?"  

"Skinny as beanpoles. Beth's waiting."  

"And the other grandparents?"  

"Weren't any. Got to hop. Beth's quick as a rabbit," said Mr. Bradford, rushing off, cock ready in hand.

 

"Maybe my great-grandparents were fat," said Jane, crawling onto the bed next to Jeremy. "And what are we going to do now?"  

"Got to pee," Jeremy said.  

"You could just pee out the window," she replied. "But check to see no one's out there, squatting under it, checking up on us."  

If someone had been there, they'd scurried off by the time Jeremy looked down over the window sill.  

"What are we going to do after you pee the weeds?" insisted Jane.  

Cock in hand, as he peed the weeds, Jeremy said: "Do you like sucking cock?"  

"Do girls do that? Piliff told me that was a man-man thing."  

"We'll make an exception," said Jeremy, lying down on the twisted, torn sheets. "Suck on my nipples a little to get your lips loosened up."  

Jane did as instructed and moved her head down to take Jeremy's cock after a slight push.  

Jane started licking and sucking and was soon muttering: "Mine! Mine! Mine!"  

Too soon, too soon, she gurgled: "Whad do ah do wiv iss?"  

"Swallow it," suggested Jeremy.  

"Whoa!" she said, her flushed face in her hands. "Talk about being a nursing cub one second and a tigress the next! Whoa! Whoa! Girl in charge! But do I always have to swallow it? I'll get fat sooner."  

"No, no," said Jeremy, fondly stroking her hair.  Jane uncovered her face, shook her talented head, then smiled excitedly at Jeremy. "And what are we going to do now?"  

"Talk about a tiger!" thought Jeremy.

 

Jeremy was happy to hear the beat of a wooden spoon on a  large pot to announce dinner. They dressed, so embarrassed at what they'd experienced together, they could hardly look at each other and blushed when they did. "I'm going to like this, if she eases off a little," thought Jeremy. "Maybe for a couple of days."

 

At table, Jane said, proudly: "We didn't get a bit tired of each other."  

"Good, good," said her exhausted-looking father.  

"So when's the wedding?" said Jane.  

"Whose, Darling?" said Mrs. Bradford. That had been the last thing on Jeremy's mind.  

"Why ours: me and Jeremy!" said Jane. "We're getting married."  

"No hurry," said Jeremy. Jane apparently didn't hear that, so likely caught up was she in fantasies of flowers and bridal gowns and a fifty-thousand-dollar invoice from the caterers.

 

"Marry? Nonsense! We don't marry in this family!" said her father.  

"You're married!" protested Jane.  

"We're brother and sister!" said Mrs. Bradford.  

"Incest, Jane, incest," said her father. "Read the Bible again. There's nothing in there against that—God just doesn't want a man to hanker after another man's wife. I'll show you umpteen stories of men getting it on with their sons and daughters. You show me one where a man gets cock into another man's wife—unless he was her social superior, of course."  

"Then we?" said confused Jane.  

"Get your sex from within the family, as you've been doing for years."  

"But Jeremy?"  

"We're all close to agreement we want him writhing in our incestuous snakepit. Need another brother. If we decide, he's not getting married: he's getting adopted."  

"But, but, the impoverishment, the savings blown, the parents dreading starvation and lack of medications in their last years! It's an American tradition!" wailed Jane.

 

During the rest of dinner, Jeremy did not look at Jane, the loving, smooth, vibrant girl who had so delighted him all day. If he had, he would have seen, recovered from her thwarted dreams of  retirement-ruining extravagance, Jane holding Philip's hand and smiling as they whispered, eyes-locked, together.

 

After the bowls of strawberries and blueberries in maple syrup were emptied and pushed aside, after the last dreg of bitter coffee was savored, Mr. Bradford said: "Okay, you two, off to bed again."  

Jeremy looked around for Jane. She and her brother had gone—off for a little incest? Jeremy felt a hand on his shoulder, he looked up into Beth's liquid, brown eyes. "It's my turn," she said, "Maybe-brother."  

"Off you go," said Mrs. Bradford, lightly. "And don't forget your book, Beth." "We always read before we go to sleep," she informed Jeff, with a wink.  

Jeremy went off to bed with Beth, book, and candle: they had no electricity to read by, off-grid.

 

Once 'locked' in the room, cock-weary Jeremy hoped to put Beth off by engaging her in intellectual discussion. "Your father mentioned  'The Austen Apocrypha'. Not Jane Austen."  

"She's in our family tree. My sister's namesake," said Beth in her warm, soft, gravelly voice. "For all her talk about bits of ivory, that was after the narwhal had been cut away. Old Great-something Aunt Jane wrote like Ted Dreiser, another ancestor: huge, rambling manuscripts that had to be fiercely edited. Her father, the clergyman, took it upon himself to expunge the sex; Cassandra, the violence. Jane's originals were pure pornography, full of bosoms and cunnies and splitters and gushings and blushing and tremblings and spankings and beatings: about ninety percent. Her novels as most people know them are one-tenth the originals."  

"No. Never any sex," said Jeremy, eagerly. "Good clean stuff. Let's read some."  

"Here's the original of P&P," Beth said, opening the thick book she'd brought. The famous first line before editing? 'It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a huge erection must be in want of a fuck.' "  

"Yeah, different," admitted Jeremy, giving up.  

"There's something in there I want to try," said Beth, referring to the book, as she dropped halter and shorts and tugged off Jeremy's khakis. "The three-hole, eye-in-the-middle? No. Maybe later. The bent-knee, toe sucker? That's a good one to start with." Pulling Jeremy onto the bed with her, she said: "I'm going to bend my knee like this. Now, you suck the little toe of my left-foot. That's it. Now we get Jeremy's tallywhacker tucked in right here. And I give a little twist. And ..."  

"Ho-wee Shwit!" mumbled Jeremy, almost biting Beth's toe off.

 

After hours of studying the ancient texts, Jeremy gasped, sympathetically: "No wonder Jane Austen died young," and fell into near-death sleep.

 

Jeremy woke to a hand on his shoulder. Beth's warm form was gone, and it was, again, August-dawn-cold  in the open-windowed room, As he turned over to see who'd waked him, he pulled the flimsy comforter tight around him.

 

Mrs. Bradford, wrapped in her heavy robe, sat down on the edge of the bed beside him. "I'm concerned, Jeremy," she said, looking at him intently, scientifically. "You're one of those boys who's too handsome for his own good. So I still have my doubts. Another test. We'll make blindfolds from the sheet-shreds: we'll do it double-blind."

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