“A dainty young city woman, pretty and vivacious, short of skirt and of hair—”

“Sounds like Daphne, all right,” Julia commented wryly, flipping her long red curls for emphasis.

Tommy grinned at his cousin over the top of his newspaper. “It’s right here in Sunday’s New York Times Magazine. The piece is called Odd Folk Inhabit Maine’s Lonely Isles and boy, they aren’t kidding.”

Daphne, who had been listening through the open door while enjoying a cup of tea on the oceanfront porch, entered the house and glared at Julia. “I’ll take pretty and vivacious, but dainty? I don’t think so.” She turned to Tommy. “So what about this dame?”

“Uh, let’s see… essentially, she was talking to an island local and they couldn’t understand each other enough to sustain a conversation.” Tommy affected a brittle Maine accent before quoting, “I cain’t figger out half o’ that little snapper’s lingo!”

“Ha! Little snapper? That’s Daphne, no doubt about it!” Julia hooted.

“Ah, dry up, Jules,” Daphne snorted. “You’d still have a little snapper if you hadn’t let my father stretch it out for you.”

Julia stared at Daphne, speechless for once in her life.

“Low blow?” Daphne ventured cautiously.

Julia blinked a couple of times.

“Or just right?” Daphne added with a small smile, running her finger along the edge of her teacup.

“I’ll give you a low blow!” Julia finally replied with a laugh. “Right in your little snapper!”

Tommy folded the paper neatly and set it aside, leaning back in his rattan chair and steepling his fingers. “I believe that’s my job, Jules.”

“Gawd, get a room, would you?” Julia huffed, rolling her eyes.

“Or we could do it out here on the porch,” Daphne gestured with her teacup before sashaying out the door again. “Say, would one of you be a dear and put the pastries back in the icebox?” she called over her shoulder. “The custard filling’s going to curdle in this heat.”

“Sure thing, doll,” Tommy chuckled.

After Daphne had left, Julia lowered her voice. “Cuz, is there anything to drink around here besides tea?”

“You mean liquor? No.”

“That shipment’s coming in tonight, though, isn’t it?”

“Ix-nay on the ipment-shay!” Tommy growled, craning his neck to see whether Daphne had heard anything, but she had descended to the beach and begun walking towards the water, out of earshot.

“Tommy.” Julia arched one eyebrow. “How long are you going to keep playing this game? You can’t keep up the charade forever; she’s going to find out sooner or later.”

“I know, I know,” Tommy sighed, running his fingers through his slick red hair. “It’s just— I like the way she sees me now. Tommy Culligan, working his way through law school, doing odd jobs for his family business.”

“It’s the Culligan curse, isn’t it?” Julia said sympathetically, squeezing his arm above the elbow. “Seventy-five percent of our family is in law enforcement and politics, and seventy-five percent of our family is in organized crime.”

“And I’m stuck squarely in the middle fifty percent,” Tommy groaned, flopping back in his chair. “I’ll be defending clients who are clearly guilty, to juries we’ve bribed and judges who are on our payroll. What a joke! It’s a goddamned vaudeville show, playing on Exchange Street instead of at the Orpheum.” He paused and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Maybe I should switch to accounting; cooking the books sounds a lot more peaceful.”

“Aw, you know the family’ll never let you do that. You’re their golden boy; they’ve got big plans for you.” Julia nodded in the direction of the door. “And if you want that little snapper by your side, you’d better warn her she might be moving into the governor’s mansion someday—whether she likes it or not.”

—

Daphne stood on the sand, the sea breeze catching the skirts of her light blue wrap dress. Her bobbed black hair, held in place by a headband, played gently about her face.

“Hey Daph.” Julia appeared at her side, her bright yellow dress and bright red hair rippling in the wind. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Just thinking, Jules.” Daphne turned to face her. “I can’t figure why Tommy bothered to bring the Packard all the way up here; we haven’t driven it once!”

“Oh, uh, I think he’s planning to drive back to the city instead of taking the ferry with us.”

“Drive back?” Daphne scoffed. “That’d take days! Why the heck would he do that?”

“I think he has some business to take care of, for the family. You’d have to ask him,” Julia added hastily.

“I’ll be sure to,” Daphne replied grimly, then turned on her heel. “Right now.”

“Hey,” Julia grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close, planting a kiss on her lips.

Daphne searched Julia’s face for some clue. “What was that for?”

“Just remember that I love you, and that big idiot loves you too.”

—

“Hey Daph.” Tommy put aside his paper. “Did you meet any odd folk out there?” he jibed with a twinkle in his eye.

“No, but here’s what’s odd,” Daphne began, lightning flashing in her eyes. “You’re, what, twenty-two years old? In college? With a Packard Twin Six at your disposal? Which you had shipped on the ferry like a Persian cat in a basket?”

“Sure, I’m in college, but I’m also working—”

“For the family,” Daphne cut in, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“...And I use the Packard for family business. Checking in on clients, that sort of thing.”

“Got a lot of clients on the road in Maine? New Hampshire? Vermont?”

“Ah. Julia told you I’d be driving back to the city, did she?”

“When were you planning to tell me? Were you going to drop us off at the pier and hop back in the car and wave goodbye as you drove away?”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you, honest,” Tommy wheedled. “But I didn’t think you’d understand.”

“I don’t understand!” Daphne barked, then bit her lip. “I don’t understand,” she repeated, more gently. “So explain it to me.”

Tommy paused for a moment, then indicated the rattan couch opposite him.

“Have a seat.”

—

11 PM. Daphne peered out the window into the inky night. “It’s pitch black out there, Jules! I can’t see a thing, just the lighthouse on the point.”

“That’s the idea, Daph. Tonight’s the new moon. There’s a grand total of five Coast Guard boats covering the entire New England coastline. The chance of us getting caught is virtually zero, but it doesn’t pay to take unnecessary risks.”

“Oh, it’s us now? The Culligan Crime Cousins?”

Julia sighed. “Look, Daph. You said you were okay with this. The rum runners are going to cache the crates on the beach, Tommy’s going to load them in the trunk, and all three of us are going to drive the shipment back to New York. Nothing to it,” she finished confidently.

“I know,” Daphne sighed back. “I’m sorry. It’s just a lot to take in. I thought I was on a romantic seaside vacation. You know, my dreamboat, my best friend, the beach, the salty air?” She shook her head ever so slightly. “Turns out I’m riding shotgun with two Irish gangsters and a trunkload of bootleg whisky.”

“Well, it sure beats playing shuffleboard on the ferry.” Julia bumped Daphne’s arm lightly with her elbow. “And I can think of better games we can play in the back seat.”

Daphne looked sidelong at her friend but couldn’t make out her expression in the dark. With a smirk, she asked, “Why wait?”

—

Stumbling into the bedroom, mumbling as they kissed, fumbling with their clothes, Daphne and Julia fell onto the bed. Julia peeled Daphne’s blue dress up over her head and gazed upon her nakedness by the light of a single candle. Straddling her best friend, Julia whipped off her own yellow dress and tossed it aside. Daphne reached up to fondle Julia’s tits, and Julia returned the favor.

“Your dad loved pinching my nipples,” Julia confessed in a husky voice, throwing her head back. “Mmm.”

“Get down here and kiss me, you homewrecking whore.”

Julia dove in, and Daphne met her attack, all lips and teeth and tongue, while their succulent breasts mashed together. After a few minutes—

“Did my dad love eating your pussy?” Daphne whispered, to which Julia nodded guiltily. “Well, your cousin loves eating my pussy, too.”

Taking the hint, Julia slid herself down until she was facing Daphne’s triangular fringe, inhaling deeply of the sweet scent. Flicking out her tongue, she tentatively played it along Daphne’s pink labia.

“Ooh, Jules,” Daphne moaned as she thrust her crotch into Julia’s face. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Nope,” Julia replied matter-of-factly as she splayed open Daphne’s pouting pussy lips with her fingers. “Only bad girls eat each other’s pussy.”

“Ooh, get in there,” Daphne puffed.

Julia stabbed her tongue between the folds and tasted Daphne’s honey pot. “Mmm,” they both hummed, for different reasons. Julia licked and sucked and nuzzled her girlfriend’s sweet cunt until—

“J-Jules, I wanna t-taste you too.”

“Okay, you want to switch spots?” Julia asked as she began clambering up towards the head of the bed on all fours.

“Actually, I read about something in one of my French books—”

“Daph, I don’t remember anything like this in our French textbooks at Sacred Heart.”

“No, silly. In one of my French books.”

“Oh,” Julia finally caught on. “In one of your dirty dime novels.”

“Mais oui,” Daphne smiled. “They called it the soixante-neuf.”

Daphne repositioned herself underneath Julia, who, having barely scraped by in French class, waited patiently for the translation.

“The sixty-nine.”

—

Sometime around midnight, Tommy strode up the sand towards the house. The liquor delivery had gone smoothly, and he felt confident that the business relationship would be a profitable one for all parties involved.

“Daph? Jules?” he whispered as he slipped inside. The crack of light around the edge of the bedroom door beckoned him. Knocking gently, he slowly pushed the door open. “Oh, damn!”

Julia had had the good sense to wriggle under the sheets before falling asleep, with only her mane of red hair visible, but Daphne was lying on top of the bedclothes, completely naked, with one hand idly grazing her exposed pussy. Opening one eye, she smiled lazily. “Hi, loverboy. How did it go?”

“Jeez, I could ask you the same thing,” Tommy chortled quietly as he took in the scene. “So, I guess you two—”

“Mm-hmm,” Daphne confirmed with a smirk. “We did. How else was I going to get a little action around here?”

“Well jeez, Daph, you know I’ve had a lot on my mind…”

“Yes, I know,” Daphne giggled. “So, do you need to keep working right now, or can you take a little break?”

Tommy began unbuttoning his shirt, then leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I’m going to break off my dick… in your ass.”

Daphne’s eyes widened in anticipation, then she rolled over onto her stomach and wiggled her bottom in the air. “We’re serving tea in the back parlor, gentlemen.”

Tommy finished removing his clothes, then lurched up and buried his face in Daphne’s ass, licking her nether node like it was his last meal on Earth.

“Mmm, that’s nice,” Daphne cooed. “How’s it taste?”

In reply, Tommy merely pushed his face deeper, pressing his lips around her rosy ring and jabbing his tongue into the hub of her spoked wheel.

“I guess it tastes all right,” Daphne decided with a winsome smile as she began fingering her pussy in earnest. “Get up here and kiss me, you big lug.”

Tommy moved forward and pressed his cock between Daphne’s ass cheeks, then leaned down and blew his hot breath in her ear. Daphne turned her head to meet him, their tongues waggling and dancing as they tasted each other.

“Pond’s,” Daphne ordered with a nod of her head. “Time to goose my caboose.”

Tommy went to the dressing table and returned with a pot of cold cream, unscrewing the lid and dipping two fingers inside as he resettled on the bed. He slathered the cream on her asshole, then slid one finger inside, working it in and out.

“Use two fingers,” Daphne grunted into the pillow as she continued masturbating. After a moment of that, “Now three fingers.”

“Jeez, are you sure?” Tommy inquired cautiously as he slowly pumped his two fingers in and out.

“I’ve seen your dick, Valentino. Gimme three fingers first. I’m focusing on the girth, not the length.”

“That makes good horse sense.”

“Horse?” Daphne laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

Tommy shook his head and slid another finger inside, stopping at the second knuckle but continuing to thrust in and out almost imperceptibly. “That’s about as far as it will go.”

“Okay, that’s good,” Daphne groaned, still frigging herself. “How’s your dick? Need a pick-me-up?”

“I wouldn’t say no,” Tommy chuckled as he shifted his knees to get closer to Daphne’s face. Extending her neck over her shoulder again, Daphne sank her lips onto his cock and slid her saucy mouth up and down, feeling his shaft grow thicker and harder.

“Ready to fuck me in the ass?”

“I believe I am,” Tommy replied with some amusement as he repositioned himself behind her. “The train’s pulling into the station. All aboard for the midnight special to Brownsville!” With a groan, he slowly plunged his thick cock into Daphne’s virgin ass while she moaned into the feather pillow and continued abusing herself.

“Fuck me! Fuck me, goddamnit!” she roared as Tommy picked up the pace, pounding his pecker into her pink pucker.

“I am fucking you!” Tommy bellowed, sweat flecking off his brow. “I’m fucking your hot ass!”

“Oh, fuck!” Daphne roared as she polished her pretty pearl. “I’m, I’m—”

“You’re what?”

Paralyzed with the most intense orgasm of her life, was what she was. Daphne’s eyes and mouth were frozen, wide open, and she clamped her hand over her mound as the waves crashed over her.

“I’m gonna shoot in your ass,” Tommy croaked in a guttural tone. “Any second now…”

Daphne shook off her reverie and reached back, grabbing his balls and stretching them down. “Do it, you dirty dog. Shoot your cum in my ass!” She was immediately rewarded as Tommy grabbed her hips and slammed his cock into her one last time, raving like a lunatic as he fired a load of scalding hot cum into her colon.

Easing his limp dick out of her gaping asshole, he flopped onto the bed in a sheen of sweat and closed his eyes. Daphne rolled over in a daze and bumped into something.

“Jesus, Jules! You’re still here?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ve been here the whole time, dummy.” Julia propped herself up on one elbow. “You just forgot about me because you were so, uh, focused on your train of thought.”

“Yeah, I guess we forgot to keep quiet,” Daphne admitted sheepishly. “What can I say? One track mind.”

“It’s no problem,” Julia reassured her with a hand on her thigh. “But I’m ready for a midnight snack. Maybe a chocolate éclair?”