Author's note: This tale includes lesbian and interracial incest and a spot of violence (non-sexual). The story is probably fictional. Thoughts expressed are not necessarily those of the author. All sexual acts involve live humans of age 18+. Not everything is obvious at once; you might want to read it twice. I welcome your constructive feedback.

*****

The tall black girl's name tag claimed she was Dora. As she rang-up my purchases at the stop-n-rob's battered register, she asked, "I seen you a lot, fella, ever since I started this job - d'y'all live around here?"

"No, I'm down from Fontana. My aunt's house is nearby. I gotta look after her." I eyed Dora's buoyant boobs filling her tight uniform blouse and paid in cash.

"Wow! So you come all the way here to Long Beach, like what, every two-three days, and you're always buying her groceries and shit?"

"Yeah, I'm a good nephew, and there's nobody else around."

I hoisted the bag holding milk, bread, lunchmeat, eggs, a few veggies - nothing too fresh but not too old either. At least this corner gas-n-food joint has pretty fast turnover. And unlike the usual 'convenience' store sales, mine didn't include cigarettes, booze, jerky, or Lotto tickets.

Dora called out as I pushed open the security-bar-covered glass door, "See ya next time, fella!" I waved back at her and got a bright smile in return.

I walked down the residential block to Aunt Vanessa's tidy expanded "California Bungalow", still standing from the 1920's, surrounded by a tall pyracantha hedge. My scruffy old Volvo was parked in front. I unlocked the hedge gate, threw the latches on her door's five locks, relocked once I was inside, unloaded the food in the kitchen, and tip-toed to the furthest bedroom to check on Nessie.

As usual, my aunt was asleep. I woke her and got her cleaned, dressed, and fed. I did not know how long I could continue. She slept more and more. Eventually, she would have to be institutionalized - there was no way to avoid it. It was only a matter of time. The paperwork was already in process.

That was Tuesday. I returned on Thursday for the same routine. Well, not quite the same.

*****

"Does your aunt ever go shopping or anything?" Dora asked when I brought my first armful of foods to the counter.

I brushed my sandy hair from my eyes. "No, she never goes out. She has problems."

"What kind problems? D'ya mind if I ask?"

I went to the back of the little store to look at canned goods.

"Her name's Vanessa; I call her Nessie 'cause she's sorta like the Loch Ness Monster - just as hidden, and maybe near extinction. You won't see Nessie outside. She's got extreme agoraphobia, paranoia of outdoors and open spaces. And she has some kind of narcolepsy, always sleeping unexpectedly. And there's a few other problems. Her life is all inside her house."

"Wow, that's the shits. What are you..."

Dora was interrupted when the store door opened and two sloppily-dressed Latino guys entered. They looked around nervously, and then pulled snub-nosed revolvers. They pointed the barrels at Dora. I don't think they saw me in the back of the store at first.

"Okay beetch, open the focking register, empty eet, NOW!" the taller one yelled.

The shorter one saw me then and waved his gun at me. I was just ten feet away.

"Hey, mericón, get your faggot ass up here, no tricks now!"

I put my hands in the air. I saw Dora looking at me. I jerked my head to the side.

"Huh? What?" Dora asked, startled.

Both slime-bags looked at her when she spoke. That was my cue. I was next to a shelf of canned slop. I pitched a can of overpriced chili con carne underhand rather hard. It bounced off the back of the shorter guy's head. His partner spun towards me, just in time to receive a can of his own, dead-on to the middle of his forehead. Both went down, fast.

I hurried up front and kicked their heads, hard enough for concussions but not fractures, probably. Then I kicked their revolvers away from their limp hands.

"I already hit the alarm button," Dora breathed. "Cop'll be here quick."

I kicked the assholes' heads again, just to make sure they wouldn't get up anytime soon. A black-and-white rolled up front maybe forty seconds later, with a second just behind. The first cop through the door had his service revolver out; his partner held a shotgun at the ready. Dora and I stood quietly, she behind the counter, me in front, both with our hands quite visible.

"Hey there Dora, having fun without us, huh? What we got here? Oh, it's Luís and Ferdé!" The first cop grinned as he holstered his piece and kicked the pistols on the floor toward his partner.

"Hiya there Teddy. These dickless dipshits cruised in, waved their little toys around. But my friend here took care of them." Dora looked over the counter and down at the floor. "Dennison's chili, huh? I knew that shit had to be good for *something* besides a laxative. Hey guy," she laughed at me, "that was pretty good throwing!"

"I'm the star pitcher in my softball league. I don't usually throw beanballs, but there's a time for everything," I admitted.

The second cop had safed his shotgun and called an ambulance. The backup fuzz stood nearby looking useful. As paramedics hauled the cuffed turds away, the first cop, Teddy, who looked to be Cambodian, asked Dora, "Does your friend here have a name?"

I carefully pulled I.D. from my wallet and passed it over. "I'm Rory Cooper."

Dora did a double-take. "Cooper? That's my name too! What's happenin', cuz?"

Picture us: Dora was WAY darker than café au lait, and I was almost as light as vanilla ice cream. Dora looked about a decade younger than my thirty-five years and she almost matched my six-foot height. We were about equally thin. We both looked to be in good shape. But we sure didn't look related, not with our skin tones and not much with our faces.

Officer Teddy glanced up from my I.D. "You're a long way from Fontana, Mr Cooper."

"My elderly aunt lives nearby. I'm pretty much her only caretaker for now."

"Well, you just take extra care of your own self. Messing with punks like these can be hazardous to your health, even worse than smoking. Hey Dora, gimmee a pack of Camels, okay?" He pocketed the smokes, then looked at me again. "Cooper, Cooper... you any relation to old Vanessa Cooper Nelson on Walnut Street? Been here forever?"

I was impressed by his local knowledge. "Yeah, that's my aunt."

Officer Teddy whistled tunelessly and shook his head. "You got your work cut out for you, I gotta say. How's she doing now?"

"Not great. And I've got to get back to her pretty soon. You need me here any longer?"

"Well, a statement from you would be good, but I bet the surveillance cameras will tell all we need to ice these shitheads for a while. Naw, get going now. If we need anything more, we'll get in touch with you. Good luck with your aunt."

"Hey Rory, can we talk?" Dora asked.

"I don't have time today. You here Saturday? I'll be back."

Dora came out from behind the counter. "Yeah, my shift is over at 4:00 then. Look guy, I gotta thank you. Those shits could have *hurt* me. You saved me!" She hugged me. She felt good.

"Get a room!" Officer Teddy ordered as he closed the store door.

All the cops and robbers and medics and guns were gone now, and it was my turn to go. I scooped up my grocery bag. Dora had added the two slightly-dented cans of meaty chili. "Souvenirs," she laughed.

*****

Earlier than usual Saturday, I shopped (getting another hug from Dora) and tended to Nessie. I was back at the stop-n-rob at shift-change time. Dora wore her uniform out the door.

"How about we go down to the harbor and have some decent coffee at the Lighthouse, maybe a snack, too?" I asked her.

"No, how about we go to my place and get to know each other better?" she replied innocently.

"Sounds like a plan. Need a ride? Here's my car."

I held the passenger door open for her, then slipped behind the wheel. Dora directed me to an apartment building not far away - just the usual two floors of stained stucco cells lurking stiffly around what had once been a swimming pool. She led me up the outside stairs to her triple-locked door.

Dora's rooms were bright, neat, colorful, small, and smelled floral. Her bed was large, soft, clean, and had just the right bounce. I learned this right after Dora shucked-off her uniform. She pulled down my cargo shorts and boxers and shoved me onto my back. My head hit the pillows. Yes, I bounced. She quickly finished removing my footwear and lower clothes.

"I *really* want to thank you, Rory! You *really* saved my ass. Now it's yours, all yours. The rest of me, too." Her dark brown face's ruddy mouth descended on my rising pale cock.

My penis stretched out to its full length with her encouragement. Dora pulled back briefly. "Hey, that's pretty good for a white guy! Most of the brothers got nothing on you." Her mouth returned to my anatomy.

Dora licked around my little head, and up and down my sensitive underside, and all over my stiffening member, with her eyes locked onto mine all the while. Our eyeballs were still bound together like an opto-electronic linkage when she swallowed me entirely. I involuntarily closed my eyes briefly and moaned. But only briefly; I watched her lovely lascivious performance with great interest.

Dora deep-throated me slowly and firmly, then faster, then change-of-pace. Her lips bumped my pubes and my dickhead must have reached her larynx when I shuddered, "Dora, I'm gonna..." She sped up her pace, but more shallowly, with my head in her mouth and her tongue working me furiously. And I blew.

And blew. And blew. Four, five, seven or more great spurts, I wasn't counting. I was just drained dry. Dora smiled up at me and visibly swallowed my load.

"That was just for starters, white boy. It only gets better!"

Dora's idea of "getting to know each other better" seemed to consist mainly of fucking me to death. What a way to go!

Dora slid her long lithe dark body up beside me. I held her head in both my hands and kissed her passionately, with full tongue, tasting a bit of me in her delightful mouth. I didn't mind.

I wasn't a hot young kid. I took a while to rejuvenate. Dora's hands, then her mouth again, assiduously applied, brought me back to partial attention. I wanted more.

"Get up here on top of me, girl. I want to taste you too."

Dora swung her strong tight legs around and straddled my head. She lowered her pussy onto my questing tongue, and inhaled my cock again, deep and sweet. She fit onto me in a perfect 69 - not too heavy, not too light.

I licked around her swollen wet labia. Oh fuck me, what a great flavor! I probed into her velvet tunnel and gathered her aromatic juices, then turned my attention to her already-stiff clit, more a knob than a nub. I circled around, swirling.

"Oh. Oh yeah. Right there, oh, oh..." she moaned around my dickhead.

My tongue brushed up, down, back, forth, circling, crossing.

"Oh fuck. Keep doing that. Oh fuck... oh," still mumbling and sucking.

I kept doing that. Dora continued groaning, sighing, wriggling.

I reached between us to her delightful breasts. I massaged those wondrous deep brown boobs, and then started tweaking her excited ebony nipples as I applied more suction to her clitoris. Dora groaned louder.

More pressure with my lips and fingers. Sufficient feather-fast flicking of her fleshy taste bud with my tongue. My attentions had the desired effect. Dora's body tensed; her sucking stopped; my cock fell from her mouth; she inhaled.

And she screamed. Long and loud. Music to my ears! Well, as much as I could hear with her strong thighs clamping my head. I eased-up a bit with my hands and mouth but continued stimulating and rocking her till she rolled off me, panting and sweating and gasping.

"Oh fuck, Rory, you are *SO* gonna get a great reward now!"

Dora swung around and full-mouth kissed me with desire and desperation.

"Yeah, I am!" I whispered, rolling her onto her back and moving between her spread knees. My cock slid smoothly into the velvety smoothness of her dark carnal trap. We both grunted with pleasure. She wrapped her long taut legs around my waist and her athletic arms around my neck. We fucked.

We fucked in myriad positions. No, I won't list them all; use your own imagination. But after a couple hours, I was quite fucked-out, and happy.

*****

Dora didn't reward me just that once. I stayed-over that night, and many other nights when I was in and around Long Beach and didn't have to be at home 60-odd road miles (100 klicks) northeast.

Hers was a mixed neighborhood, multi-colored and not very rich, like mine. Not quite a slum, nor a ghetto. I didn't get *too* many sullen glares from 'brothers' when we walked to her door.

After only a very few of our hot horny sessions, Dora popped the question.

We lay on her sweat-soaked sheets and cooled down from the last orgasms. She looked into my flushed face.

"What d'ya do that lets you get down here every couple days? You work part time or something? You got a home to go to?"

"Yeah, I have a home, and a full-time job. Home is an WWII cottage under the flight path of Ontario International, damn jets overhead all the time. It's not exactly quiet. I don't mind being elsewhere, like right here." I leaned in and nibbled her puffy nipples. She breathed, "Mmmm..."

"My job - well, my company finances construction projects all over the area. I'm officially a Compliance Engineer, which means I drop in unannounced and do quick checks on paperwork and progress. Gotta keep them honest, yeah? So I'm a corporate snoop and nobody at the sites likes me too well. But I get to pretty much set my own schedule and itinerary."

"That's awful convenient, ain't it? You can get down here whenever you need to or want to. I'm glad." She squeezed my shaft sharply to express her appreciation.

"Well, I can only juggle things just so much. That's why I miss a day here every now and then, like if I have to drive further or probe deeper."

"Probe deeper, hmm? You probe pretty well. You got a girl in every town, maybe? Good for hot deep probing?"

"Don't ask, don't tell! Not that I have much to tell right now. You don't really *want* me to tell, now do you? Or ask?"

"Yeah, don't ask, that's probably safer. I don't have many recent stories either. No good ones, anyway. But are you all alone now like me?"

"I can tell you this much: No, no current relationships, not outside your bed here. I've got an ex who left a few years ago, thought I was too boring and unambitious and dutiful, and spent too much time and effort on my aunt. She traded me in for a flashy con-man. No loss."

"My last guy didn't work out too well either, that's all I'll say. But you seem to be working out just fine! So far, anyway. How far you wanna go? Where we going?"

I thought about that. I had been thinking about it a bit lately. Were we a 'we'? Were we going anywhere? We had only seen each other in the store for a few months, and known each other in bed for a couple weeks. Dora felt good to me, physically and emotionally and mentally. But this was still so new...

Dora watched my face closely. "Before you answer, I gotta tell ya that I know stuff about you already, just from being with you. You're no player, no jive-ass bullshitter. You're a straight-shooter, but you're careful. You'd rather not talk, than tell lies. You try to avoid hurting folks unless they fuckin'-A deserve it. Then you stomp their skulls. You're strong and calm and smack-on. I really like all that. I really like being here with ya. I feel good with you."

I don't know what expressions Dora saw my face broadcasting. She must have like them - she kissed my mouth and said, "Talk about it later, yeah," then moved to my cock again and brought me back up, horny as a rhino and twice as hard (but not nearly so grey).

*****

I walked into the food-n-gas-mart the next Friday evening to pick up Dora. She came out wearing her nicely-filled-out work uniform and carrying a small duffel.

"Change of plans. My fuckin' landlord is finally fumigating the building, gonna kill all the weak cockroaches anyway. And I got tomorrow off. So, we're going to your place for the weekend. Hope you keep it clean, dude. I don't wanna hang in some filthy bachelor pad, y'hear?" She punched my arm.

I was not totally surprised, nor unprepared. I had expected a "you've seen mine, now show me yours" and now was the time.

I held open the passenger door. Dora threw her duffel in back and scooted her bubbly butt inside. She gave my cock a squeeze and said, "Home, Jeeves," before I closed the door.

I drove the Riverside Freeway to (hopefully) skip the worst L.A. and Inland Empire traffic. As usual, that almost worked. We still had plenty of time to chat in the jams. Highway traffic follows the laws of fluid dynamics, which means, ya gotta go with the flow. Sometimes that flow is slow and viscous.

"Here's what's happenin' tonight, white boy. We'll eat these Hostess pies to give us strength." She waved a package at me. "We'll park at your house and go inside. If it's not too disgusting, we'll shower - and ONLY shower, no fucking in the stall, y'hear? Then we'll get dressed and go to your favorite Mexican joint for some good tacos. Then we're going clubbing. You better pick the right clubs, not too slow, not too nasty. So take your dancing shoes."

And that is what happened. Fortunately, I kept my house tidy.

We staggered back through my front door sometime after the last club's two-AM closing hour, footsore and sweating and laughing and horny and not too awful drunk. I peeled off the minimal body-hugging dress Dora had managed to pour herself into. She rid me of my light clothes almost as fast. We fell into the shower for a nice scrub-and-rub session.

We only had strength for one good long fuck then. We made up for that in the morning. Well, late morning. Well, till early afternoon, actually. We were in no hurry, and I had Margarita mix and microwave burritos in the freezer - no need to go out for nourishment right away.

A little food and drink, then back to sucking and fucking. In bed. On the floor, the big couch, the kitchen table. On the backyard picnic table behind cheap bamboo screens. Jumbo jets low overhead provided nice rattling subsonic quakes. Santa Ana winds blew the smog toward San Diego. A good afternoon...

More scrubbing and clubbing that night. More recovery Sunday, then back to Long Beach with Dora. I had to make an early start in Barstow the next day.

"How about I help you with your aunt before you head back home? Or is that too much like introducing me to your family?"

I had thought about this also. Most of my relatives were far away and did not much interact with me or Vanessa. Nessie was pretty non-judgmental when she was conscious. I had no problem with Nessie knowing about Dora.

"Yeah, it's time you met Nessie. You're almost next door to her. C'mon, I'll show you her world."

We stopped at the store for the usual supplies, and then performed the entry ritual at Vanessa's house. Dora was impressed by the security system I had installed. She eyed the barred doors and windows.

"Holy shit, ain't *nothing* coming in here uninvited, right? Maybe a truck."

I shook my head. "Truck can't get to the house. Those pyracanthas around the front yard are the extra sturdy PAIN AND TERROR BUSH variety. One row stops a truck. Two rows stop a half-track. Nothing bigger than a mouse gets through them. Same as at my place."

"Whoa, that's some damn heavy-duty security! You get off on this stuff?" Dora asked with raised eyebrows.

"I'm not paranoid, just prudent. Prevention is better than having to fix things and people later. It's not perfect but it slows them down enough, especially without a panic button to push like you have at the store."
We walked the hallway to Nessie's far bedroom, went in, woke her up, and got her to recognize me. I introduced her to Dora and she seemed to notice her. She smiled at Dora - the first time I had seen Nessie's very Iroquois face smile at anyone but me in many years.

Dora immediately took over, shushing me out of the room. I occupied myself by checking out the various gear around the house. Her exercise room, computer-media room, laundry-freezer room, cutting-edge kitchen - everything worked.

I heard water running. I couldn't help but peek into the open shower space.

Dora's shady naked form danced as she scrubbed Aunt Vanessa's lanky well-exercised 50-year-old coppertone body. Nessie hung her head back under the spray, water cascading from her lustrous black hair and off the pointed tips of her shiny ruby nipples surrounded by large chocolate areolae.

I smiled and left silently to let them finish.

I hit the kitchen and chopped omelet fillings: ham, scallions, tomatoes, peppers, olives, cheddar, avocado, fresh herbs from the kitchen window. I whipped plain yogurt into eggs, and julienned potatoes for a flash sauté. Cooking everything would only take another five minutes or so.

Dora and Nessie both emerged wearing short light robes. They looked great. Lots of tasty flesh.

Nessie whispered in Dora's ear. "Go easy with the scallions, guy. And be sure the cheese is melted soggy. Vanessa likes it that way," Dora relayed to me, grinning brightly.

I was stunned! I mostly communicated with my aunt via scribbled notes. She spoke! And to a stranger! I guess Dora had been 'accepted', you bet!

The clock was near midnight when we cleared the kitchen. Dora dressed; Nessie donned a heavier robe; we kissed her good-bye and I took Dora home, and then rode back to Fontana.

'Twould be understatement to say my mind roiled and boiled on my drive home. Complications and simplifications! Were Dora and I becoming 'we'? Was Dora now family? My co-caregiver? Was Nessie emerging from her trauma-induced shell? I was sure she would never move from her badly-located fortress. Would I be willing to give up my Fontana house and beg a new job assignment in order to relocate to Long Beach? What local ties would I sever?

I could probably finesse my job. I mentally rehearsed my pitch to my boss: "Let the Lancaster guy take over the Barstow and Victorville sites; I'll cover all of Orange County." And I could transfer to a local softball league. (No, it's not that serious to me!)

I considered my other links to Fontana: not many, not strong. I had few friends or interests there. My main glue was my home equity, whatever the place was worth. I made a mental note to check the realty listings and comparables.

And was I really going to think about marriage? Again? We hadn't even talked about love. Yet.

*****

Monday kept me busy near home, around Cucamonga. I was in Long Beach at the store rather later than usual Tuesday. Dora glared at me. "'Bout time you got here, you slug! I can go off shift early. Let's get to Vanessa's now. Here, *you* carry the damn food bags!"

Nessie was running the treadmill when we arrived. Up and active! She greeted us with a big smile, stopped the machine, hugged me, then embraced Dora and whispered in her ear.

"Yes baby, we're glad to see you too. Wait, what was that?" Nessie whispered again, another private message. "Okay, I'll ask him." Dora turned to me. "She wants you to give me the keys and codes so I can visit more often, that's what she said." Nessie nodded in vgorous agreement.

I had expected this also. I handed Dora a small package. "Here's everything you need to get in. You should memorize what's on the cards; then flush them. Better do it pretty soon. You don't want to lose those outside."

Dora fixed dinner that night, a tangy red Creole jambalaya of frozen chicken, shrimp, and smoked sausage in brown rice. I worked with Nessie at her computer while Dora chopped, seared, and mixed. Nessie worked her keyboard, sending pieces to her agent to sell - she may be damaged but she is not stupid.

Dora joined us while the food simmered. She watched our wordless interaction of keyboarding and gesturing. We had perfected our silent language.

"Don't y'all ever talk around here?" Dora looked puzzled.

I shrugged. "We seem to get things done okay like this."

Nessie smiled. Then her eyes lost focus. I saw her slip into unconsciousness. Yet another narcoleptic episode - her source of vivid dreams. Dora and I got her back into bed.

"You deal with this all the time? How long she been like this?"

"Yeah, pretty much always. She's had the tendency all her life. Narcolepsy is genetic and environmental. Her husband O.J. caught a weird fatal flu virus about twentyfive years ago. That seemed to trigger this." I waved at the sleeping beauty. "Her not talking or going out- that's psychological, a withdrawal."

"When O.J. died, she collapsed, and withdrew, and was even hospitalized for a while, but got kicked out after a round of budget cuts. Their kid Sandy was taken to foster care, then adopted; Nessie hasn't seen her since then. O.J.'s sister Carrie took care of her for fifteen years till she died. There's nobody else nearby, nobody who wants to bother. I've tended her since I was twentyfive."

"You do this all by yourself?" Dora asked.

"Well, my ex helped for a bit, but then she got real tired of the necessary routines. That's a big reason she's my ex now."

I sighed. "I didn't know how long I could keep at this. But she seems to be more energized now, more connected. You really make a difference, girl."

Dora gripped my arm in her hands. I could see she was holding back tears.

"She's not an idiot. She just can't face the world. She dreams, and writes, and exercises - you've seen how fit she is! She makes a living with the time and thoughts she has. I installed the computers and exercise gear so she can function on her own terms. But I still have to work hard to keep her going."

I didn't complain. I merely laid out the facts. Whining wouldn't help.

We left quietly. Our lovemaking at Dora's place that night was subdued and too brief. I had to go home to Fontana. The next few workdays would be grueling.

I didn't get back to Long Beach till Friday. I again reached the store a bit later than usual. The evening clerk passed me a note from Dora: "Come right to V's house. Buy nothing."

I locked the front door behind me, turned into the living room, and stopped in shock. Dora and Nessie were sitting side-by-side at a card table playing Scrabble and giggling! Nessie was interacting! They both grinned at me.

Nessie whispered in Dora's ear. Dora said aloud, "No Vanessa, YOU tell him yourself. I'm not your trained parrot!"

Nessie grimaced, and then gathered herself. She worked her jaw back and forth, swallowed, inhaled, and opened her mouth. And spoke! Aloud!

"Rory, boy, you have been a lifesaver, I can't thank you enough. And you have a lovely friend here, a wonderful person. You are blessed," her voice creaked and rasped. She coughed and continued.

"Isadora is welcome here at any time. She belongs here." Nessie coughed again, then tightened her jaw in determination. "And Rory, you must STOP calling me Nessie! That is not elegant. My name is Vanessa."

Dora and Nessie, I mean Vanessa, both grinned at me. I shook my head, dazed.

We stayed up fairly late that Friday night, till Vanessa nodded off. Dora was anything but subdued when we got to her place. That weekend was a mix of chatfests at Vanessa's and a fuckfests at Dora's. Yeah, maybe I *would* move to Long Beach!

*****

Dora and I talked about love. We agreed. We were lovers, and we were in love, and with each other, amen. Now, what to do about that...??

I pitched my assignment switch to my boss. She agreed. Wow! I put my Fontana house on the furnished-rental market. I loaded a small borrowed van and moved my keepable stuff into Vanessa's spare bedroom, the guest room I had occasionally appropriated. I was in a new home. Our home.

Vanessa's voice grew stronger with practice. She and Dora still whispered together often. I did not begrudge their secrets.

I was not expecting what came next, but I should not have been too surprised.

I was home most evenings now, unless some emergency kept me in Yuma or Zuma or another distant locale for a night. Home! It felt like a real home.

One night, I passed front-door security, and I heard moaning down the hallway. I walked quietly to the bedroom door. I peered inside.

Vanessa's lithe coppery body, drawn up on her knees, hovered atop Dora's strong darker form, half her age. They were engrossed in a classic 69 - tongues and fingers working each other's vulvas, legs and torsos and butts moving in responsive rhythmic waves.

Their lovemaking was slow and beautiful. I stood transfixed and silent.

Their moaning and tempo increased. Vanessa raised her wet face from between Dora's espresso thighs, her eyes squeezed shut, and groaned, rising in volume and pitch, squalling... and she yelled! An extended shout of animal ecstasy and surging gratification.

Dora did not slow or relent her attentions. Aunt Vanessa kept screaming. Good thing I had filled the walls with soundproof insulation!

Vanessa finally ran out of breath, and out of orgasm. She opened her eyes - and saw me watching them. She smiled at me, and then bent down to ostentatiously lick Dora's exposed pussy. Vanessa kept her eyes on mine for a few more seconds. She rolled off Dora, lying beside her, both on their backs.

Dora raised her head and saw me also.

"Oh fuck Rory, this is so great! Oh, I love being here! But I want YOU, Rory! I *need* you! Get your fucking clothes off and fuck me! Fuck me, NOW!!"

Aunt Vanessa made no move to cover her nakedness. She murmured, "Yes Rory, Isadora loves you and needs you! She IS your woman! Love her!"

Any moral judgments trying to worm their way into my consciousness drowned in the rising tide of my animal lust. I retained enough higher brainpower to remove my clothes quickly but without ripping anything, and to duck into the bath to dab a washcloth in hot water for a hasty wipe-off-the-sweat scrub.

I dashed back into the bedroom. Vanessa had swung around and was curled next to Dora, softly rubbing her and whispering to her. Dora saw me and held her arms and legs wide open.

I needed no further invitation. Dora's dark puffy labia glistened with her own exudation and Aunt Vanessa's tongue-lashing. I moved in for a taste of her hot center. I supped on those nether lips, swirled her stiff clitoris, probed deep into her core. I feasted! Dora moaned.

I felt hands reach to my head, grab my skull, pull my hair, force my head up.

"Enough of that, boy," Dora demanded. "Get up here! Get that thing in me!"

I crouched between her taut thighs and firmly slid my pulsing cock into her. We both sighed at the smooth penetration. She pushed her pubes up to meet me. I bent to suck one nipple; Vanessa joined me at her other breast. I moved in and out, faster then slower, shallower then deeper, with Vanessa caressing Dora with her hands and lips.

Dora was calling continuously, "Oh, oh, ah fuck, oh, ohhh..."

I pulled Dora's long legs up over my shoulder for a more acute angle and deeper penetration. "Oh fuck yeah," she moaned, as I increased my pace.

Now I was pounding. My balls bounced rhythmically off Dora's sex. With her thighs braced up, I moved my hands to hold her breasts and pinch the pebbled knots of her thickened nipples. I felt her orgasm approaching.

And then Aunt Vanessa pinched MY sensitized nips, and I exploded!

Jet after jet of my hot sperm coated Dora's womb. I fell onto her, careful not to crush her body, but also careful to crush my lips against hers, to swallow her tongue and her breath and her cries of joy, while her grasping pussy held and drained my cock.

We shifted slightly. Dora's strong arms and legs wrapped me, enfolded me, drew me and held me, so I was trapped in her web. We felt like one soul.

My penis finally slipped from her. I rolled off. Aunt Vanessa leaned over us, kissed my lips softly, kissed Dora hard. I placed one hand on Vanessa's breast and one on Dora's, and they held me too. Our faces nuzzled together.

Aunt Vanessa was crying.

"You children are so beautiful together! And Isadora, you are such a love! I have not felt physical love since my O.J. died so long ago. I have not shared love with a woman since I left college, even longer. Thank you both! I love you both."

Vanessa's tears washed us and provoked our own. We kissed each other's faces till no tears remained.

Dora cuddled me. "I love you both so much too! And with Vanessa... I dunno, it just felt so right. We was talking, and crying, and laughing, and touching, and kissing... and then we was naked, and loving, and... it just feels... RIGHT! Like I's meant to be here! Like this's all meant to happen!"

Dora brushed her lips against mine and continued. "Then Vanessa came! And I saw you, and I just knew we were all together, all just right, as long as I had you in me. I don't ever want to lose any of this! Hold me, both of you."

And we did.

We spent the night together there, Dora spooned into me, Vanessa spooned into Dora, all still sweaty, and steamed, and high. Showers could wait till morning.

*****

It all seemed like magic. Dora, taking me into her world, and bringing Aunt Vanessa back to life. Vanessa, slowly rejoining the world, or a least our part of it. My new life, freed from my old strictures, open to new configurations.

Dora and I talked about love. We didn't talk about marriage, not yet, but we hinted at it, and we lived almost as if we were already wed. Well, wed in a sort of threesome, with Dora spending time in both my and Vanessa's beds. Dora had not yet moved in fully with us. Her lease expired in month.

Magic is funny stuff. Fairy-tale magic always seemed so simplistic to me - say the magic words, wave your hands, weave your spells, and POOF! Out pops a minor miracle, no problem. Yeah, right.

I gave up reading those kinds of magic stories a long time ago. When reading fantasy, I prefer a *bit* more, tales where magic has a clear and dear price. Maybe the magic runs out, and the immortal mage grows old. Maybe each spell costs the wizard or witch some of their lifetime, or their strength, or their sanity. TANSTAAFL - There Ain't No Such Thing As A Free Lunch, as Heinlein wrote.

Our family magic had a price. A price that was dear, but not clear.

Dora and Vanessa (dressed, this time!) sat together on the couch perusing a pile of old photo albums. Aunt Vanessa named the rogues' gallery of faces in the snapshots and portraits. Dora seemed enchanted by this window into our family history.

As pages and names flew by, Dora's expression shifted and stiffened slightly. I felt a silent PING in my subconscious. I glanced at the women and noticed Dora's guarded look. I walked to the couch and stood behind them.

Vanessa pointed at a picture of a dark man, a not-so-dark woman, and a boy whose skin was intermediate. I recognized them all, of course.

"Here's my daddy Nate, and my mama Gina, and my big brother Willem, Rory's dad, when Bill was about eight. That was a couple years before mama Gina died while delivering me. Daddy was mostly Mohawk and Cree, and Mama was Sicilian. We were told us kids were A-wop-a-hoe, ha ha!"

Vanessa sniffled. "After Mama died, Daddy just fell apart. He left Bill and me to be raised by his sister and her husband. I have pictures of Aunty Ann and Uncle Todd and me in the next album. And shots with my O.J. - he was Shoshone. We'll get to those pictures in a minute."

In another picture, Nate was much older, standing with a not-too-swarthy man and a pale blonde woman holding a pink baby.

"This is from a lot later, when Daddy came out here to visit. That's Willem and his wife Sue, Rory's folks. Sue's a Swede, in case you couldn't guess. And that's the little brat Rory himself," pointing at the infant. I was past being embarrassed by my baby photos.

"By this time, Daddy had built a new life back East, with a new wife and family, but he never brought them to visit, I don't know why. He just came by himself every couple years."

I saw Dora getting stiffer. Vanessa didn't seem to notice.

"Ummm Vanessa, would it be okay if I borrowed these two pictures here?" Dora pointed at the snapshots I just mentioned.

"Of course, honey. Take as many as you want. I know I don't have to tell you to take care of them."

Dora thanked her and went to the bathroom, then returned and excused herself, saying she had something to take care of back at her apartment.

We were all together again the next evening. Dora pulled photos from a manila envelope.

"Aunt Vanessa, do you recognize the people in these pictures?"

The first photo: An older dark man, suited and stiff and somber; a younger black woman, tall and straight; a cute black baby.

"Why, that looks like my daddy Nate! And I've seen her picture before! That's Lydia, my Daddy's second wife, and that must be my half-brother Bradley! I've never met them, just a couple old photos."

Dora presented another snapshot, much newer: a black family, man and woman and thin-faced baby girl, casually dressed, all smiling.

Vanessa peered at it. "No, I can't say that I've seen these faces before." She looked at Dora. "These are important to you, aren't they?"

Dora nodded. "This here," she said, holding the last photo, "is me with my folks, Bradley and Lyn. And this other picture," holding the first, "is my dad Brad when he was just a toddler, and his folks, my grandma Lydia and my grandpa Nathan."

Dora looked at me. "Rory, your grandpa Nate is also MY grandpa Nate. We're first cousins. And Aunty Vanessa, you're my aunt. For real."

She started shaking and crying - tears of despair, not joy. Vanessa and I held her tightly. Dora wailed disconsoletely for many minutes, her body wracked by deep sobs.

Dora moaned through her tears. "I thought... I thought I was in... in a new life, almost like I's adopted into your family. Like I found y'all, no, like we found each other, found a family of love, people I can love and who love me because of who I am, and what I can be, and... oh shit, am I making any sense?" Dora sobbed again, and then regained control.

"And now, now I find you're family, all right, but family I was born to... even though we look nothing alike, we're still blood family, right? And I just can't fuck my blood family, my born-into family, 'cause that's incest, and that's wrong, right? Oh fuck, what is going on?" She wailed again.

Vanessa and I were sitting on the couch on either side of Dora. We held her, soothed her, whispered to her, did our best to calm her.

Vanessa's wisdom seeme to have an effect. "Isadora girl, you've done nothing wrong. Doesn't matter what our blood is, we're all just people. You and Rory, you didn't grow up together, and you didn't grow up with me, so we have no close history, no forbidden fruit, nothing like that. You and Rory, you're lovers, you got together as lovers, not because of any family thing, just because it was right, because YOU are right together." Dora's sobs were subsiding.

"You and me, Dora, we love each other because of what we do to, no, what we do FOR each other. You are a wonder, girl. Rory kept me alive for all those years, but you've brought me BACK to life, back to the world. If it wasn't for your love, I'd be dying, no, I'd be dead to the world, locked up inside myself, nowhere to go. You're both the best things in my life."

I chimed in. "And remember cousin, that's what we are, COUSINS. And not we-grew-up-together kissin' cousins, neither. We're strangers who happen to have the same grandfather. You're not my little sister, not someone I have power over, not leading you astray. And we're in California. Nothing illegal here about cousins marrying, nothing like that." I grinned.
Dora's tear-streaked face looked at me. "Marrying?" she asked, wonderingly.

"Yeah, marrying. Isadora Cooper, will you marry me?" I asked seriously.

Expressions flashed across her dark face: Shock, disbelief, relief, wonder, joy. Finally, joy.

"YES YES YES!! FUCK YES I'LL MARRY YOU!!" Her shouts rang in my ears. Ouch. Her arms circled my neck and damn near strangled me. Ouch.

"There now, dear, better let go of his throat, Rory won't be much good to you after you've choked him to death," Aunt Vanessa chuckled.

*****

Yes, it was almost like magic. The price was revelation.

The magic? My saving Dora, and her loving me. Vanessa emerging from her shell - but she still didn't leave the house, not yet, maybe soon. We need just a bit more magic now...

Aunt Vanessa, my ward for so long, Dora's lover for so short a time, still had loss to deal with.

"I feel like I've been re-born," Vanessa said as we all sipped MexiCafé (Oaxaca mezcal laced with Chiapas coffee and heavy crema). "But we're born naked into the world, with nothing but our mother's blood covering us. And I'm only naked because of who I lost. I lost my darling O.J. and I lost our daughter Sandra." Vanessa seemed, well, not quite morose, but definitely down.

Dora looked up from her cup. "How long back was that, Vanessa?"

"How long? That was in... oh my, it's been thirty years."

"Thirty!?! So Sandy is all grown now? And she was adopted?"

"Yes, but I don't think they release adoption papers to birth parents, not without a court order or something."

"Well, we can look for her," I said. "There are online sites, ways to link children and parents who are searching. We can post notices. I can check with a lawyer, see how adoption information can be released. We can find her!"

Vanessa's eyes teared-up. "Oh damn, it would be so good to see her again."

She brightened. "Now we have a more immediate concern - how are the three of us going to live together, in how many beds?"

"Oh, we'll find a way work it out, you bet" Dora smiled.

And we did.

THE END?