“What kind of game?” she wanted to know. “I don't remember that, either. And I'm usually in bed and asleep by ten o'clock, unless my dad lets me stay up later to watch a movie or something.”
Mrs. Rimfield gave her niece a warning look, then said, “Let's not grill the child, Veronica. She's here on her vacation, after all. So, Stephanie, I haven't seen you in the pool yet. Is there a problem?”
The girl gave her a little shrug.
“I didn't know if I was supposed to,” she said earnestly. “My dad said I shouldn't be getting in the way, since I'm too young to really be here.”
Mrs. Rimfield gave her a broad smile.
“That's particularly thoughtful of both you and your father,” she said. “But you're a guest here and an important one. Would you like to go into the pool?”
And the girl's sweet face lit up.
“Yes, I would,” she said. “I've brought a swimsuit and everything.”
“You just make yourself right at home here,” Mrs. Rimfield let her know. “We want you to be happy during your stay.”
And little Stephanie beamed.
“Thank you, Mrs. Rimfield…”
It was after 1:00 a.m. that very night, or morning, Veronica staying over, when both women heard the unmistakable sounds of sex coming from the apartment below.
Mrs. Rimfield adored her young niece and, ever since they'd discovered each other at the frat party, they'd been ardent girl-on-girl lovers as well as relatives, spending as much time together as possible.
She'd been lying naked on her king-size bed, still sweaty from a session of mutual pussy-licking fun. Veronica, naked and sweaty as well, stood beside the bed, making a final adjustment to the strap-on dildo she wore.
The pretty 15-year-old high school girl swung her slim hips side-to-side, wagging the large rubber penis in the air.
“Damn, I love having a dick!” Mrs. Rimfield's sweet niece said. “Especially one that never quits…let me fuck you with it right now.”
“Veronica, this is serious,” her aunt continued, sitting up at the ongoing sounds from below. “If they're at it again, maybe we should get dressed and go down there! I do have a key, after all.”
But her niece's attention was still focused on the sexual apparatus she wore, which Mrs. Rimfield had only recently bought for her.
At the same time, she'd purchased anal beads, three exotic-looking vibrators, tropically-flavored anal lubrication, and a small but sturdy actual fucking machine, still unboxed in her closet and awaiting Veronica's birthday, which her young niece was to sit on, pumping her hips, so that the thing could fuck her from below, endlessly.
Or until her legs cramped up.
“Look how real it looks!”
The younger girl was running her slender fingers up and down the realistic rubber cock of the strap-on, admiring the thickness of the shaft, the overly large smooth head, the vein-covered surface.
“Listen to me,” Mrs. Rimfield said. “I'm serious, damn it!”
Veronica finally looked back to her aunt.
“Maybe her father's watching a dirty movie,” the girl suggested, still not a true believer when it came to that night Mrs. Rimfield supposedly heard them so eagerly going at it. “His daughter's probably sound asleep.”
“Exactly!” Mrs. Rimfield said, sliding off the bed. “You remember what I told you about that…”
As soon as they'd returned from the pool earlier that afternoon, and while Veronica stripped off her miniscule bikini and jumped into the shower, Mrs. Rimfield went straight to her computer and looked up everything she could about sleepwalking.
“My God,” she said, shaking her head. “This is unbelievable.”
But Veronica, already soaping her vagina first as she always did (getting herself off at her young age still being her number one priority), opened the glass shower door and called out, “My pussy isn't going to lick itself, Aunt Kitty!”
“I have to look at this,” Mrs. Rimfield called back. “And I told you, if you'd take a yoga class, you could lick the damn thing yourself.”
On the Internet, she learned that sleepwalking was technically called parasomnia, and that sexsomnia was a real term, only recently coined, to describe sleep sex, a rare but actual disorder where the person engaged in sexual acts while asleep.
Often highly enthusiastic sexual acts, it turned out, with accompanying groans, vocal cries and urgings, yet with no memory whatsoever of it in the morning.
“This is amazing,” she said, believing she'd found the key to what was going on, and realizing what occurred directly below her two nights earlier. “He's screwing his little daughter while she's sleepwalking!”
Mrs. Rimfield was even further amazed to discover that one woman in a case study drove her car on numerous occasions while asleep, always to have hours-long sexual intercourse with a variety of strangers.