The Case of Sheryl?s Pregnant Niece

I was on my way out of the bar when the night started to go sour. I was passing the bar, when the pudgy little woman fell off her stool. Being the honorable type guy that I am, I reached to catch her, and accidentally grabbed both her breasts, one in each hand, in the process. I did manage to keep her from falling, but she shrieked like a mashed cat.

I really couldn't blame him, even though he did have me by about six inches in height and by about a hundred pounds. When he turned around, there was his girl standing in front of me, and I was squeezing both her ample breasts while holding her tight against me. Now, I can handle myself pretty well, and it looked to me like he was pretty well drunked up, so I didn't want to really hurt him. I just wanted to leave. I dropped my hands quickly and started to explain, but my explanation was cut short by his "Goddamnsumbitch" as he stood and pushed her out of the way. As he started his swing, I nimbly ducked out of the way; the nimble duck is one of my best moves. The big guy missed, and his momentum threw him off balance. He started to fall, then somehow regained his footing, and swung again, this time connecting with my left arm. It hurt like hell, but I was still trying to figure out how to get out of there, and tried not to think about the pain. I said, "Hey, man, it was an accident and I'm just going to leave, OK" when the third swing came at my nose. I blocked it with my left arm again, wincing as it landed, and put everything I had into a punch in his belly. The breath exploded out of him with a "Umph", and he sat down on the floor. I was congratulating myself, when everything went red and yellow stars, and then black.

The emergency room at Memorial is rather comfortable at one AM, really it is. Cliff's wife, Connie, was nice enough to drop me off there after the fight. The nice nurses and doctors stitched the cut and I was entertained by the view of some very soft nursey breasts as she wrapped my head in about a mile of bandage. They couldn't do much for my ribs, though. The doctor said they'd probably be sore for about a week, and gave me some little white pills to take when they hurt. On the way back to pick up my minivan, Connie told me the story. I had put the big guy down, when his girlfriend hit me from behind with a beer bottle. She told Connie she was getting off her stool, when I grabbed her from behind, and then started to beat up her guy. After she beaned me with the bottle, she kicked me a few times, just to make sure I wouldn't get up, and then went to help her big boy. Connie had seen it happen, and got there about the same time as security. She explained to the little woman, talked the security guys out of calling the police, and then took me to the hospital.

I thanked Connie, and promised to buy her a drink the next time I could catch the band, but explained that I probably wouldn't be back to Scooter's. She laughed and told me where they would be playing in a couple weeks. I eased my aching body into the minivan, and drove home, parking in my usual space in the alley. I inched up the stairs, rediscovering my bruised left arm in the process, and when I finally locked the door behind me, I collapsed on the couch with my trusty bottle of scotch. I felt better after I had lowered the bottle by about an inch and fell asleep.

I woke the next day about twelve, and after trying to move, decided to change my career from PI to couch weight, at least for a while. I did finally manage to get to the can, and then took one of the little white pills. A look in the mirror told me the turban didn't do much for my rugged good looks, so I took it off. As the coffee brewed, I munched on yesterday's pizza lunch, and looked up the Spur in the phone book. By the time the coffee was done, the little pill had kicked in, and I felt like I had only my normal Sunday morning hangover. I checked my answering machine, and decided to ignore Carla's erotic invitation, at least for today.

Ten o'clock that night found me outside the Spur, and it was like Saturday night all over again. I swear, the same mini pickup was parked beside me, although the big blonde was not inside, and the bar looked the same from the outside. After I paid my cover, and walked inside, I knew that Scooter's had been transported to this address while I slept, because the decor and clientele were the same. The band was in full swing, and it was easy to pick out the guitar player as Harley. He looked the same as his picture, except there were a few new experience lines in his face. I bought a beer from the same bartender, this time disguised as a brunette but sporting the same breasts and butt, and looked for the band table. It was easy to find because the women sitting there nursing their drinks looked proud, but bored, and spent most of the time talking to each other instead of listening to the music. I did my best bar-style mosey, and worked my way to their table. Five guys in the band, and only four girls at the table; maybe Dietra would be lucky, and none of the women would be with Harley. The first set ended, and the band filed over to the table, but Harley just picked up a beer, and stood back while the others sat down beside their wives. Well, at least Harley hadn't picked up a companion since last summer. I walked up to the long-haired blond guitar player, and said, "Dave Harlow?"

"Yeah, I'm Dave Harlow." The eyes were the same, but not so innocent as in the picture, and I picked up a hint of apprehension in his voice. "Whatcha need, man?"

"Can we go somewhere a little quieter, and talk?"

"Yeah, I suppose so. Out back, this way."

He led me to a door behind the bandstand, and we walked into a storage room that served as a dressing room for the bands. I decided to really play this straight.

"Dave, I know your real name is Harley, Harley Davidson and -"

"How do you know that? You from that pawn shop? I paid off my ax, yesterday, and you're not gettin' any more out of me." He turned to walk away. I caught his arm, and he turned to face me again.

"Harley, I'm not here to collect a debt. I'm a private investigator, and Dietra sent me to find you."

"Dietra? Dietra Spone? From Roan Mountain!"

"Yes, Dietra Spone from Roan Mountain. She wants to see you, to tell you something."

"What? I haven't seen her in about nine months. I quit writing to her a while back, because the band wasn't gettin' very far, and I couldn't afford the stamps. She probably wants to yell at me for not writing. Just tell her to forget about me. Now, I got another set to play, and I want to finish this beer first. Take it easy, man." He started to walk away again.

"Harley, I got three women expecting me to find you. They're all pretty, and I'd hate to disappoint them, so when you finish the last set, come back to Barney's with me, and let her have her say. I'll drive you over, and take you back to where ever you're staying."

"Three? I thought you said Dietra was looking for me."

"Well she is, but her Aunt Sheryl is helping her, and Sheryl's friend, Joyce is expecting me to find you too."

"Her Aunty Sheryl Mason from over in Cabin Row? I didn't know she lived in Nashville. Miss Mason was the school librarian when I was in junior high. She was really nice, and really hot, at least to us boys, but she never had a boyfriend. Lots of guys tried, from what I hear, but she just stayed by herself until she quit. Never heard what happened to her, but there was some talk about her and the principal. See, the principal quit at the same time."

"Oh, I don't think there could be any connection there. Sheryl still doesn't like men very much."

"The principal was Miss Jameson, Miss Joyce Jameson."

"Oh..., well then, that fits."

It's funny how the most unexpected information comes to me from the most unexpected sources.

It isn't funny how events can repeat themselves and add to my pain and suffering. The last set was finished, and Harley and I were walking out the door, when a very drunk brunette stumbled into me.

"Hey're, hanshome. I can' fin' Sharlie, an' I need a good hard fuck. You look like you gotta big hard dick. It'll serve 'im right, leavin' me here by m'self. Up to it? If y'ur not, I kin fix it." . I felt slim fingers take a choke hold on my cock and jerk it up and down through my jeans. She giggled, put her arms around my neck, and mashed her tank top into my chest. A second later, I tasted beer and cigarettes as she crushed her open mouth against mine, and tried to find my tonsils with her tongue. I was trying hard, really, to untangle her from me when I heard the same "Goddamnsumbitch" as the night before. "Shit, Darlene. Can't I go take a piss without some asshole tryin' to get in your panties?"

"Well, 'sbout fuckin' time, Sharlie, an' I'm not wearin' no panties, remember?"

It wasn't the same guy, but probably they were related; two guys that big had to be. He grabbed my shoulder and succeeded in separating me from Darlene. That relief was short-lived, and was followed by a fist about the size of a soccerball impacting on my face. I felt the crunch, rather than heard it, and was contemplating how I would look with a broken nose, when the second punch hit me just below the breastbone. For a big man, he was surprisingly quick, and when the third punch hit my jaw, I conceded defeat, and fell on the floor. I lay there, listening to Harley calming the guy down, and mentally composing the letter I was going to sent to my old boxing coach, when Harley's voice started getting softer and softer.

The same cute little nurse put the tape over my nose, and assured me my jaw wasn't broken and that my nose would heal straight. She also assured me that my stomach would feel better in a few days, and then gave me some more of the same little white pills. Harley put me back in my minivan, and I directed him to my office.

Barney's was deserted, as was usual for a Sunday night, and Joyce and Sheryl were sitting at the bar drinking coffee and talking. I didn't see Dietra.

"Jase, what happened to you?" asked a worried sounding Joyce.

I tried to live up to the image my ego liked to feel. "Nothing, just a little bump." I winced slightly as she touched my nose; all right, I yelled, but it hurt like hell. It hurt worse when she laughed.

"Where's Dietra? I found Harley. Harley, meet Joyce and She...oh, wait a minute, you already know each other, don't you?"

"Yes, Jase, Sheryl and I know Harley" said Joyce. "I suppose he told you everything?"

"Well, enough to get my attention. You'll have to explain it to me sometime, but not now. Where's Dietra?"

"Well...Dietra couldn't wait for Harley. She's over at Memorial, right now, with her new daughter." Joyce's ample chest pumped up in pride. "Sheryl and I were with her the whole time. I guess we're godmothers, or something like that."

Harley was looking confused. "Dietra has a daughter? But how?"

Sheryl laughed. "Honey, you really are from way back in the hills, aren't you? Didn't your daddy ever have that talk with you? How long ago did you and Dietra go swimming?"

I could see Harley silently counting the months on his fingers. "You mean...when me and Dietra...last summer?"

"I can see we've got a real genius here, Joyce," said Sheryl. "Yes, Harley, if you go riding bareback, you sometimes get a little momento of the occasion, in this case six pounds eight ounces of momento."

Harley started to turn the most unique shade of gray I had ever seen, but then his face split in a huge smile.

"Why didn't she tell me? I'd have taken care of her, even if I had to quit the band and get a full time job.

"Why are men so fucking dumb?" asked Sheryl to no one in particular. "Harley, I'll try to go slow so you can understand, and I'll use little words. She loves you, you dumb shit; God knows why, but she loves you. She didn't want to hurt your chances to make a record and become famous, so she didn't say anything. She doesn't even want you to quit now; she just wanted you to know about the baby."

I gave the keys to the van to Harley, and they all went to Memorial. Hell, if I'd known she was in the same hospital, I'd have dropped Harley off with her while we were there. At least I wouldn't have gotten my nose pinched. I walked back to my office and climbed the stairs. I found that the pain in my arm balanced the pain in my gut so well that it hurt all the way up the steps instead of just every other step like this morning. Once inside, I pulled off my clothes and headed for the couch without even turning on the lights. I had just stretched out and closed my eyes, when something rubbed up my cock, and I jumped about a foot. A familiar, soft voice said, "Hi there, sailor. Feels like you're glad to see me."

I reached for the table lamp and turned the switch. Carla was standing beside the couch in her bra and panties; I think she was in a bra and panties, but they were so skimpy it was hard to tell for sure. The bra looked more like wide black satin ribbons, and the panties... well they just looked like black shoelaces stitched together to me.

"Carla, you scared the hell out of me! How'd you get in here, anyway?"

"Well, Joyce said you gave her a key, the last time you went out of town, so I borrowed it. I'm not a girl to take no for an answer, and Joyce said you'd enjoy the surprise. She did giggle a little, wonder why? So..., how do you like my new outfit? I bought it just for you." She twirled around, showing me the back. "By the way, you look like shit, lover. What happened?"

"Well, I feel like shit, too, but it's too long a story for now. Goodnight, Carla. I've got to get some sleep."

"Oh, no you don't. Mama is horny, and her little man is gonna make her feel better. Just lay back, and let Mama do all the work, Honey." Carla's soft fingers massaged my cock and balls for a while. "Hmmm, I guess you're not so little, now, are you?"

It's amazing to me that the instinct to reproduce is so strong. My nose was broken, I had stitches in my head, my arm was bruised, I was sure I had a couple loose teeth, and I felt like eighteen big guys in golf shoes had practiced clogging on my gut, and yet, the little guy had raised his head and was sniffing around. Of course, Carla was prime sniffing woman, but I hurt so bad. "Carla, please, no."

It took her only a moment to slip off the ribbons and shoestrings, and then to strip my shorts off over my feet.

"Hey, Lover, do your legs hurt?"

"No, not my legs."

She immediately straddled my thighs and sat down, her soft pussy straddling one knee. Damn, she was horny; I felt something warm and wet on my kneecap as her soft lips separated around it. Carla cupped her breasts, and rolled them gently in her palms.

"Ummm, Jase. Doesn't this look yummy? Feels yummy. God, I love rubbing my tits almost as much as I love you rubbing my tits."

She picked up each swelling, dark nipple between her thumb and forefinger, and began rolling and tugging. She gasped, and then purred little moans. "Mm...mm...mmmmm. Is this doing to you what it is to me?" She looked down at my swelling cock. "My, my, Sugar, I believe it is, yes I do. Maybe I can help your little guy grow great big."

She reached down with her right hand, and picked up my hard cock. Her soft fingers began a rhythmic squeezing and I had to groan. Carla knew which buttons to push, and when. She started slowly slipping her hand up and down, and when I involuntarily lifted against her stroke, she laughed.

"My, my, Jase. You can't feel all that bad, but let Mommy kiss it and make it feel better, anyway."

Carla slid her wonderful pussy down my leg until my foot ran into her soft ass. She leaned down, her breasts brushing against my knees, and raised my cock. I saw that impish look come into her eyes, and she opened her mouth wide, then clicked her white, even teeth shut.

"Lay still, Lover, or I might bite. Oh, hell, I might just bite, anyway, but lay still."

The soft pink tongue slipped out of Carla's mouth as her lips circled the head of my cock. The tongue licked up the underside, pausing to tickle just at the start of the head. No doubt about it, when Carla had told me she gave very good blow jobs, she knew what she was talking about. The sensation was exquisite, and I wasn't going to last long at the mercy of her lips and tongue. She was sucking now, and sliding her lips and tongue up and down my length. Occasionally, I felt the back of her throat, and almost lost control. Carla really did know what she was doing. When I started to pump against her, she squeezed the base of my cock hard, and just backed up with me. After three times through this fun house, I was ready to explode, and tried really hard to do just that. Carla just stopped, squeezed me again, and waited until I had calmed down.

"Not yet, Sweety. Mama gets her's tonight too, and that means she gets you inside her."

"Carla, I can't. I hurt too much."

"Oh, no, no excuses. Let me show you something. Think you'll like it, and I know I will."

Carla separated her sex with her left hand, and I saw lovely, pink, turgid inner lips slipping out. She started rubbing her clit with the other hand, and her eyes locked onto mine. I saw smoldering passion as she fingered herself, and when she started to buck her hips, her eyes caught fire. The fire spread to me, and she saw.

"Last night, Mr. Bullet jumped in to save me, but tonight..."

Carla slid back up my legs, positioned herself over my cock, and reached down to guide me into her. She rubbed her clit with the head while slowly raising and lowering her hips, and then, with a moan, slipped the head between her swollen inner lips.

"Oh God, Jase, it's been too long, Honey."

Carla slowly sank her body over me, and then sat there. The sight of my cock disappearing into her was erotic beyond my wildest dreams..., and I can have some pretty erotic dreams. I felt her milking me with her muscles.

"Like this, Honey? I've been practicing, just for us. You feel sooooo good in there, sooooo good."

I thought it felt really great, myself, and almost forgot about all my hurty body parts. I was getting one of the great lays of my life, and didn't even have to do anything. Well, I did have to get hard, but, with Carla, that wasn't work at all. I was enjoying the gentle sucking sensation on my cock, when she clamped down hard and lifted herself up, almost allowing me to slip out of her passage. I caught my breath, and was going to exhale, when she dropped over me again, and I felt my cock pushing against her womb. Carla gasped, and then moaned.

"Ohhhahhh, Baby. Yessss...yessss...too long."

She started pumping me in and out of her warm, wet passage, and slipped a finger between us to rub her swollen clit. She lifted my hands, first one and then the other, to her breasts, and said, "Rub them, Jase, it feels so good when you do that."

I did my best to comply, and realized I couldn't remember which arm hurt. I loved the feeling of her soft breasts and hard nipples, and let my hands and fingertips enjoy the feel of her. I tugged on her nipples, and Carla shuddered, the shudder coming from her belly and running all the way down her passage to the base of my cock.

"Yes...yes...that's it, lover...ummm...that's mmmm...that's it. Again...God, yessss....ummm...ahhhh."

The ripples were continuous, now, and Carla was beyond anything but pushing my cock in and out of her. She was stroking me in and out, her muscles were grasping at me with her lips, and little contractions squeezed me at the end of each stroke. I was, as usual with Carla, rapidly losing control. Carla was losing control, too; her eyes were shut, her stroking increased in speed, and her head rocked back and forth and from side to side. Her long, dark brown hair fell sensuously around her face and soft, tanned shoulders with each movement.