“You weren’t very nice to me.” She looked at him over shoulder through her curly bangs. “Do you want to hurt me?”
“What?” he asked confused. “No! I don’t want to hurt you.”
She seemed unconvinced.
“It was just a dream!” He patted the bed next to him. “Come here.”
She hesitated for a moment but eventually turned slowly around and crawled onto the foot of the bed. She pulled her legs under her and sat cross-legged facing him.
He couldn’t help but look up her skirt at her thick thighs and her little white lacy panties. He could easily make out her pussy lips outlined by the cotton.
“It looked like you were hurting Mom,” she stated.
“What?” he stammered, tearing his eyes from between her legs to look into her eyes. “When?”
“Last night … when you put your thing in her mouth.”
John put his head in his hands and moaned. “Do you watch everything I do?”
“Did you like hurting her? ‘Cause it looked like you did.”
“I wasn’t hurting her, okay? She liked it too but she didn’t want it to look like she did.”
He watched her expression to try and gauge her reaction. She listened intently.
“Why would she want you to think you were hurting her.”
“Look,” he said, “People … you know … like grownups … they do things sometimes … to make each other feel better when they really, really love each other.”
“It’s just pretend?”
“Exactly! I would never hurt Mom.”
“Do you love me too?” she asked.
“Yes,” he answered. “Of course!”
“Would you want me to do that too?”
“Honestly?” he asked her.
“Honestly,” she acknowledged.
“Yes, I would.”
She looked up at him with an innocent child’s grin. He leaned in and brushed the hair from her eyes. She held his gaze. She was sure he was being sincere. He was astounded she was actually holding eye contact with him.
“Will you teach me what to do?” she asked and abruptly put her forehead to his. He nearly pulled away from her in his surprise but caught himself, “I want to make you feel better too.”
“Grace! I’m your brother …”
Just then their Father started calling the children to the door for a headcount.
“Let’s go, Kids!” he hollered, his loud voice booming throughout the house. “We’ve been late all summer and the preacher’s gonna give me hell if we don’t stop comin’ in on him in the middle of the sermon!”
Grace looked up at John with a pleading look.
“Tell them I can’t go!” she cried, “I hate it! I want to stay here with you!”
She tried to climb up the bed but he stopped her by pushing her shoulder.
“I’ll put your thing in my mouth!”
“No!” he barked, causing her to flinch, “Do you really want to make me feel better?”
“Yes!” she cried in exasperation, “I thought you wanted me to …”
“Do what I tell you to do then, got it?”
“Yes,” she replied disappointedly and looked down so that her hair fell over her face.
“Now, I’m tellin’ you to go to fucking church!”
She nodded affirmation but hesitated to leave.
“Go!” he ordered, pointing at the door.
“Okaaaaay,” she whined as she climbed out of the bed.
She looked at him for a second and finally turned to leave but stopped suddenly.