"Really?" Creagon asked, his attention obviously caught.

Marne could tell that Creagon was anxious for her to go on, and, there really wasn't all that much more to tell.

"Well, you know how he was when you met him," Marne said. "I thought maybe he'd turn queer if he didn't get a little pussy. You know, he was damned good looking even then, in a funny, uncoordinated sort of way. And, I figured he needed a little taste of cunt before the boys got to him. And, since I had been told by more than one kid on the block that I had the best pussy in miles…"

Creagon couldn't help laughing. He'd known Marne was no virgin when he'd married her. He hadn't cared any more than she had cared that he had fucked a few hundred women before he had gotten around to plowing his blood-engorged cock up her hair-fringed pussy.

"And?" Creagon asked, wondering just what the outcome of this amusing little anecdote was going to be.

"And, my brother was duly horrified, to say the very least," Marne said, giving an accompanying giggle. It all sounded so ludicrous. "But I was determined. I mean, in those days, the worst thing that could happen to a girl was having it get around that her brother was a fairy."

"And John fucked you?"

"Actually he persuaded me he had already started fucking Emily Peterson. I don't think I would have believed him, even then; but, he seemed to have a pretty thorough knowledge of just where Emily's birthmark was and what it looked like."

"And that was as close as the two of you ever came?"

"That's it. We really weren't all that close, you know? I was always out having one hell of a good time; he was always off somewhere with a book."

"Melissa and I were very close-once," he said.