Uncle Roy went to college with Mom and Daddy, though he's a couple of years older than they are. He's about forty, I guess, but he doesn't look it. And he hasn't gotten fat and bald, like Daddy, which was something else I liked.

"Is your mother home?" he asked, interrupting my head-to-toe survey of him. I shook my head no, adding that she'd left yesterday and wouldn't be back before this evening or maybe tomorrow morning. He looked disappointed, and he sighed. Back in the old days, when they were all in college, he and Mom were pretty close. That was something I'd picked up eavesdropping on the fights that went on before Daddy moved out.

"I'm in New York now," he added. "Permanently. California became just too much for me to handle. It's an insane place." I nodded in agreement, but I'd never been out on the Coast and I didn't know if he was telling me the truth or not. But men smile when you agree with them, and I like to see men smile. "I was just on my way back from a conference in Chicago," he went on, still smiling, "and I thought I'd drop in to see how you were getting along."

Where were my manners? We were still standing in the doorway!

"Come on in," I told him. "We'll go out by the pool and I'll fix you a cold drink. Isn't it hot today?"

I led the way, very conscious of how my scarf-dress clung to the oiled curves of my body. Uncle Roy's eyes were bright-blue, bluer than mine even, and unless they were in bad shape he couldn't help noticing that all I wore under the dress was me. I looked down as we walked and noticed for my own part that the moist slickness of my tits had made the material almost transparent there, that my nipples were quite visible through the soaked scarfing. Nice. They were two of my best features.

Vodka and tonic was his drink and it sat right with me, too.