Kassandra, Woman of Mystery Ch. 04

First, I ate my sister while I fucked Kassandra. Then I ate cum out of Kassandra while I fucked my sister. When I heard the timer on the oven go off, I was resting while Traci and Kassandra were locked in a passionate sixty-nine. I got out of my landlady's bed and went to the kitchen where I turned off the oven, took the casserole out, and set it on the stove burners to cool.

I walked over to the stereo and turned on the turntable and amplifier. Then I flipped through Kassandra's LP's and pulled out Herb Alpert's "Going Places". I put the 10" vinyl disc on the turntable, cued the needle up with cut one of the "A" side, sat on the couch, and enjoyed the Tijuana Brass.

I always enjoyed Herb Alpert's music because although it was commercial sounding, it was entertaining. I always chuckled when I heard the silly car horn at the end of the phrases of the first cut, 'Tijuana Taxi'.

While Mr. Alpert was only a mediocre trumpet player, he and Jerry Moss were great arrangers and used "the Wrecking Crew" at Capitol to their best advantage to produce some excellent recordings. Later when Herb and Jerry formed A&M Records, they helped give some truly talented people like Joe Cocker, Bryan Adams, and the Carpenters, the break they disserved.

When the fourth cut on the album, 'Spanish Flea' started playing, I saw Traci and Kassandra come dancing out of the bedroom. The made their way to the couch, grabbed my hands and coerced me to dance with them. I did, and when the song ended, Traci said, "Daddy has that same record at home!"

I kissed her and said, "Yes he does Sis, Kassandra has a collection almost as large and diverse as our father does."

Kassandra kissed me and said, "Todd, what I have here in the apartment is only a small part of my collection. These are my favorites. I have a climate-controlled locker in Oak Park with the rest of my collection of vinyl and it is more than ten times what I have here."

I led the two ladies over to the snack bar and served us dinner. When I looked in Kassandra's refrigerator, I saw a half full bottle of chianti, so I got three glasses and poured what was left of the wine into them. When my sister took a sip of the wine, she made a face when she swallowed the mouthful.

I took her hand and said, "This wine in not for drinking, it's bitter taste goes well with the seasonings in Italian cooking. Take a mouthful of the food, chew it and swallow. Then follow it with the wine and you'll see what I mean."

My sister tried what I suggested and smiled and nodded afterward.

About this time, the last song on the "A" side was finishing, so I walked over to the turntable, flipped the record over and cued up the "B" side. We finished eating just as the record finished, and I covered the casserole with plastic wrap and placed it in the refrigerator. As my sister and Kassandra washed and put away the dishes, I took the record from the turntable and returned it to it's protective sleeve. When I was returning it to the place where I had found it, I noticed another of Mr. Alpert's recordings that was even more of a favorite of mine.

I placed "The Lonely Bull" on the turntable, and cued up the first track, which was the title song. When the opening phrase, played by Herb on his trumpet came out of Kassandra's massive speakers, the two ladies left the dishes in the sink and joined me in a group hug. Traci started to cry, because this song had been her favorite since she was a toddler.

Kassandra kissed me and whispered in my ear, "I have loved that song as long as I can remember. It was playing on the record player the night I lost my virginity."

We didn't make it back to the bedroom for several hours, because the three of us made love on her couch until Kassandra and Traci fell asleep in each other's arms there. I covered them with the throw that was folded on the back of the couch and turned off the audio equipment.

As I returned "The Lonely Bull" to it's sleeve and placed it back where I found it, I said to myself, "Thank you Herb, I never realized that your music was such an aphrodisiac."

We went to the kitchen and finished the dishes, cleaned up the mess, and made sure everything was in order. I went to Kassandra's bedroom, climbed into her bed, and let my exhaustion take over. Some time later (I have no idea how long) I was awakened by warm wet lips around my cock. When I opened my eyes, I saw a vulva that I recognized as my sister's, and I started licking.

When I heard her giggle, the lips disappeared from my cock, only to be replaced with Kassandra's pussy.

'O. K. my faithful readers, I know what you are thinking now. You are wondering after all the vaginas my cock has been in, how was I able to tell them apart. Well all I can say is that there was something about Kassandra's that was unique, and I have never been able to describe exactly what it was. All I know is that when I was inside of her, my cock knew the difference.'

Anyway, as Kassandra rode my cock, my sister rode my tongue, and we all came at the same time. As we basked in the afterglow, Kassandra kissed us both, and said, "Go back to sleep, my darlings, I have to get ready to leave now. I will try to hurry home to you." Then she said, "Todd, I have set up the security measures. Please do not open the closet doors or go near the cactuses. I will leave the spare key on the snack bar. The security system is set to turn on when you two leave and lock the door in the morning. Take care Lover, I will see you when I return."

Traci and I fell asleep almost immediately, and when I awoke the sun was just peeking in the window. My sister awoke, and we kissed passionately. Then I explained that we needed to get dressed and return to our bedroom without touching anything we didn't need to in Kassandra's place. When she asked me why, I told her, "I'll tell you when we get back to our place,"

She did as I asked, and we left as quickly and quietly as possible. As we dressed, I noticed that her closet door was partway open, and I remembered what Sam the detective had said before about a blood covered bowling ball. When we were walking through the main room, I noticed three strange looking fuzzy plants, and remembered what he'd said about the needles.

We left the apartment, and after I locked the door behind is, I swore I heard another 'click' after I removed the key from the lock. I didn't ponder that, and my sister and I returned to our apartment.

Once inside, I sat Traci down on the couch and asked, "Traci, can you keep a secret?" When she nodded, I said, "There is something I need to tell you about Kassandra, and you cannot tell anyone, not even Mom and Dad. Do you understand?"

When she told me she would, I said, "Kassandra has a secret life that she cannot tell anyone about, even me. There are some dangerous people that she is involved with, and she keeps that a secret from us for our protection because she loves us."

Traci smiled and asked, "Is she like a spy for the CIA?"

I took a breath and said, "I don't think they call people like her spies anymore, and I have no idea who she works for or even what she really does. All I know is that she disappeared for a while this spring, and while she was gone, someone broke into her place. It was a mess, but her countermeasures kept whatever the burglars from finding what they were searching for."

Her eyes got really big and asked, "You mean she set booby traps? Is that why we were so careful leaving her place?"

I took her face in my hands and said, "Traci, listen to me, you have to promise me you will not tell anyone what I just told you. Not even Kassandra, do you understand?"

She held up her right hand with her smallest finger and said, "Pinkie swear'."

I did the same and we locked pinkie fingers. Then we kissed, and I made us breakfast.

Afterward, we walked to class together. She started her modeling that day, and I had my Color Development class in the morning, and Lab in the afternoon.

I didn't have a nude modeling session with her until Tuesday morning, so we would only see each other for lunch. We agreed to separate before we went into the building and not acknowledge each other during the day, so that none of our classmates would realize we were related. We agreed to meet for lunch at the Coffeehouse, because we were known there.

Traci did her modeling, and I went to my classes for the rest of the month of June without any issues. We met for lunch every day, and when I shot with her and five other photographers I did not know Tuesday afternoons, no one made any crude remarks.

I decided to take my first Independent Study week in the middle of June and drove to the woods of Northern Wisconsin. I made plans to go to the Chequamegon National Forest, and photograph wildlife in their natural habitat. I made reservations to camp in the park and would be able to park the Travelall near the campsite.

The Monday I left on my trip, I took the EL to the Loop and first visited Central Camera where I had arranged to rent a 300mm f1:2.8 Ais Nikkor lens, and a sturdy tripod. When I walked into the store, Mr. Feinstein had everything waiting for me.

He spoke first and said, "Young man, I have had this old Manfroto tripod laying around for years, and I am letting you have it for renting the lens. It is very sturdy, but a bit too heavy for most people, and nobody wants to buy it, so it is yours to keep."

I thanked Mr. Feinstein and gave him the $80. Rental fee and the $200. Damage deposit and slung the hard leather lens case over my shoulder by its carrying strap and tucked the tripod under my arm. From there, I walked to the Art Institute parking garage, where I unlocked the Travelall, put my lens, tripod, and backpack, which held my camera, lens, film, four freezer packs, and a change of clothes, on the passenger's seat beside me. I drove out of the garage, made my way to Lake Shore Drive (US41), and followed it until it crossed into Wisconsin where it became an Interstate highway.

I followed the route I had planned and switched to my auxiliary tank when the gauge got below ¼ full. I stopped in Oshkosh to eat and filled up both fuel tanks. I found a grocery store nearby and stocked up on food, beverages, ice, matches, batteries, and other essentials, before continuing on my northward trip.

I pulled into the wildlife refuge around 4PM and checked in at the Ranger Station. Phil, the Head Ranger found my reservation, I paid my fees, and he gave me a map to my campsite. He was very interested in my vehicle, so we went outside, and I raised the hood. He was impressed with the engine swap and remarked, "Them old 'binder' V8's wurn't worth a durn'. I'm glad you got you a reliable power plant dere."

We shook hands and I drove to my camping area's parking lot. I was pleased to see that although I was in a remote part of the refuge and was alone for the week, there was a water spigot, and plenty of firewood already stacked neatly nearby. I locked the truck, untied the tent, took it down from the roof rack, threw it over my shoulder and walked down the trail away from the campsites by the parking lot about a hundred yards, where I found a small clearing that already had a circle of stones and the residue of a previous campfire. I pitched my tent and walked back to the parking lot to retrieve the rest of my belongings.

By dusk, I had everything I would need for my stay. I secured my cooler lids closed with a log chain and a padlock and tied the non-perishable foods in a canvas bag suspended from a tree branch with a rope, out of the reach of most animals. I decided not to make a campfire that evening so I ate a couple of energy bars and drank a bottle of fruit juice before undressing and climbing into my sleeping bag where I fell asleep to the sounds of the crickets, frogs, and the night birds.

When I awoke Tuesday morning, the sun's rays were just beginning to make their rays to the forest floor.

I had left my wristwatch in my vehicle because I had decided ahead of time to allow my body clock to sync with nature and not be controlled by the time society had imposed on us. Out here in the woods, there would be no Standard or Daylight Savings time. I would live this week by the clock of the sun and moon.

I dressed and walked back to the parking lot where I gathered as much firewood as I could carry. Once back at the campsite, I built a small campfire and fried some bacon. I turned the bacon over and cracked a couple of eggs over it. I made a sandwich when my creation was done and washed it down with a small bottle of OJ. I dumped the grease on the fire and watched it flare. I gathered some dry leaves and wiped out the cast iron frying pan I had brought and threw them into the fire.

After the fire died down, I took a stick and scattered the coals, so the fire would die out completely.

I strapped my grandfather's hunting knife to my belt by its sheath, put on my backpack that I had packed with energy bars and other essentials, grabbed my camera and loaded a roll of TMax, and slung the camera around my neck. When the fire was dead, I slung the l leather case with the 300mm over my shoulder and grabbed the tripod and continued down the path I had followed, away from the parking lot to scout locations for my photographs.

The trail ended at a rocky lookout that had a good view of the entire valley below. I changed lenses to the 300mm, and looked through it, hand held to view the valley below. I soon realized that this heavy monster was too much to hand hold, so I set up the tripod and attached the lens's foot to the tripod. I spent some time scanning the valley with the long lens, taking photographs of the whole valley, while taking notes of possible locations to do more shooting.

I spent the rest of the day scouting locations, photographing and sketching all the different animal tracks in my pocket notebook, and keeping track of my route so I wouldn't get lost. Late in the afternoon, I noted a small pond that appeared to be a watering hole. It was surrounded by tracks that looked like deer, foxes, raccoons, beavers, and wolves. Among the animal tracks were also some that looked like they had been left by a barefoot human.

As I examined them I realized that they were much smaller than mine and looked to be about the size of my sister's who wore a size six. I followed the tracks along the small stream that fed the pond until they disappeared in a grassy glen, just above the pond, on the other side of the valley from where I was camped.

I gave up my search when the sun started going lower in the sky and knew I needed to return to my campsite before dusk.

I returned to my temporary home by the route I had taken and used a branch to obscure my tracks, so I would not alert what I assumed was a mysterious young lady to my presence in the woods.

I made another small campfire that evening, made a pot of coffee with my grandfather's old coffeepot, and cooked some hotdogs. After I ate I cleaned up and as I reloaded my camera with a roll of Ektachrome by my battery lantern, and let the fire die out on its own. I undressed and went to sleep earlier than I had the night before.

I woke well up before dawn on Wednesday, ate an energy bar and drank a bottle of OJ, then I set out for the secluded pond. It was still dark at the pond in the glen when I got there, so I climbed into the tree I had found the day before. I wrapped my old stocking cap around my camera body to muffle the sound of the shutter and waited to see what or who would be visiting the water hole, early in the morning.

I didn't have to wait long because as soon as there was enough light for my camera's built-in light meter to read within the film's exposure latitude, a mother deer and her two fawns made their appearance on the other side of the pond. Soon after they left, a mother fox and her two kits showed up just below my perch. For the next two hours, a variety of animals from beavers to wild turkeys posed unknowingly for my camera.

With the sun high in the sky, I thought the show was over, and just as I was getting ready to climb down from my perch, something on the edge of my peripheral vision caught my attention. As it got closer, I heard a small voice singing a song that Paul Simon had written many years ago:

'Are you going to Scarborough Faire, parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme?

Remember me to one who lives there, he once was a true love of mine.'

As the voice got closer, I could tell it was a young woman, and she continued to sing the entire song, changing the pronouns so that the song fit her feminine tense, and when she came into view, it appeared that she was in her teens, and was a fair skinned blonde, less than five feet tall. She was barefoot, and wearing a thin dress made of a gauzy material that did not hide her shapely body.

I started taking photographs as she stopped at the edge of the water, and casually took off the dress, hanging it on a tree branch. When she turned around, I could see through the camera's eyepiece, that she was incredibly beautiful. She had fair skin but was covered with light freckles. Her hair was so blonde it was almost white, and her eyes were as blue as Kassandra's.

Her breasts were firm and stood out from her body and were capped by pale pink puffy nipples. She was petite and shapely, and her mound was covered by light wispy pubes, that didn't hide her small camel toe vulva.

She almost took my breath away, and I started to sweat as my cock became painfully hard in my pants. I was so distracted that when my camera's film advance lever stopped working, I only then realized that I had run out of film. I lay on the tree branch transfixed as she finished her 'bath', stepped out of the water and put her nearly see-through dress back on.

When I blinked my eyes to clear my vision, she had disappeared, and I started to think I was dreaming and had imagined it all. I climbed down from my perch and realized that I was wringing wet with sweat and smelled bad. I hung my equipment from a tree branch and stripped out of my clothes.

At the deepest part of the pond the water only got to about mid-thigh level, so I sat down and submerged myself in the cool refreshing water.

When I stood back up, I heard the same voice I had heard singing earlier say, "My goodness, you are a big one, aren't you?"

I saw the mysterious beauty standing on the shore smiling at me. Then she took her dress off and waded into the water in front of me. The top of her head came to just above my nipples, so I could tell that she was less than five feet tall. She took hold of my cock and said, "My name is Ariel, what is his name?"

I responded without thinking, "His name is Toddy, but my name is Todd. It's a pleasure to meet you Ariel."

She gently fondled 'Toddy' until he became fully erect and then said, "I can see that Todd." Then she pulled Toddy's foreskin fully back and took the head in her small mouth and sucked on him. When she removed him from her mouth and said, "You taste yummy. You are camping on the ridge by the parking area, aren't you?" When I nodded, she said, "Would you like to come to my cabin for dinner when you finish taking pictures?"

I regained my composure and said, "I think I am finished taking pictures for the day. I took quite a few of the wildlife here at the pond early this morning."

She giggled and said, "OK. Why don't you get dressed and go back to your campsite, pack up your shit in that tank of yours and drive it down road G42 to the end. Take the last dirt road up the hill and park in in front of the log cabin. I'll have dinner waiting for you, and if you're really nice, I'll give you some dessert too."

I stood like I was stuck in the mud as Ariel scurried out of the water, threw on her gauzy dress, and disappeared into the woods. When it dawned on me that she was gone, I climbed out of the water, redressed, gathered my equipment, and hiked back to my campsite as fast as my feet would take me. I loaded my things into the Travelall, took down the tent, rolled it up and tied it back on the roof rack. I walked back to the place I had camped to make sure I hadn't left anything, and when I returned to my vehicle, the Ranger was waiting for me.