I abhorred to leave the party so early after such a successful venture,
but one look at me tre amici, and I thought of their wallets, and of the
pictures within. With the taste of pussy still on my cock, I couldn't
help but think of Becky's picture in my wallet with something written on
the back to the tune of "Thanks, Derrick, that was the best night of my
life," with an imprint of her lips in the midnight purple lipstick she
wore.
So off we went, she and I, off to the trolley that would convey us most
of the way home once we walked to it, to be followed by another walk
lasting a few blocks. She was tipsy, quite tipsy. I could have tried to
ignore the smell coming off her, but with my hand on the small of her
back guiding her steps, it was hard to avoid the reek of expensive beer
and sex.
It should've bothered me that she was sexually active, but I didn't let
it; that was one of my angles of being "the good brother". She didn't
concern me terribly through my life since she would be there with me,
but I always liked her, and now I liked liked her. She felt free to tell
me any dirty secrets she might have, but she rarely did.
She was babbling nonsense now and then to tell me she was on the verge
of being drunk, but not enough to be serious trouble for "the old people
in the house". We snuck in through the side door, and I got her
upstairs, and into her bed. I had to stop short of pulling her outer
layer of clothes off, but she pulled me close for an appreciative (if
chemically aided) kiss, which landed dangerously near my lips.
I got back to my own room next door as quickly as I could, but my heart
was pounding out of my chest. I threw off my clothes and threw myself
into my bed to deal with the raging erection that had been threatening
to expose me to my sister on our walk.
Once my fingers were wrapped around my package, everything was gravy.
The cute little girl tasting herself on my finger, then each of my
friends' sisters, and finally Becky, showing even pretend affection for
me. I had only gotten off once that night, which made the party a
technical failure; post-party fapping was something of a shame, but I
couldn't get my hand off myself.
Faster and faster I stroked, trying to cure myself of this disease
brought on by infected women. Call it cooties; it's all pretty much the
same. It was hard to respect them, dressing like they do and then
flirting with everyone in sight all night, but it was hard to tell your
swollen cock that. All it wanted was for you to feed it as many of them
as possible.
And right then, it wanted me to feed it my sister. She was just lying
there in bed, hardly able to move from exertion and drink. She had even
kissed me, if only just. With just that one sign that she even possibly
wanted me, I squirted out far too much messy goodness to be allowed, and
finally I could sleep. Sleep, and an early morning for stupid school.
********
Ahh... delicious beer after a boring day at school. And the night
before, I got my rocks off pretty good with a chick who was dynamite in
the sack, and she never got my number. Life be good. It sucks a little
that she got my name, but she was good enough for a second try, if I
gave second tries.
"So?"
"So what, motherfucker?"
"Don't give me that innocent look, dickwad, did you score?"
Ah, boys. They can be cute at times. It was almost a certainty that Bill
didn't get any at the party, the way he was bugging me. Sam, Sam
doesn't give a shit. He pretty much gets his whenever he wants it. As
the story goes, his father taught him how. I've been considering taking
lessons as soon as I got the cash together.
But Sam, he didn't care whether we got ours. He got his, and he'd just
smile down at us, who merely might have gotten laid. Dree almost never
got his, and I was about as hopeful as Bill.
"What, that blond? It was alright," I said coolly. No point in sounding too pleased with myself.
"Psh; everyone knows you fucked her," Bill laughed. "I mean your sister."
"Oh, yeah. I actually caught her upstairs with some idiot, but they ran out. I donno what she got up to after that."
"Yeah, but you left with her, and she was pretty sauced."
"She still had plenty of time, though I don't think anyone followed her into her bed, if that's what you're asking."
Bill's face fell to the table and Sam had a good chuckle.
"What're you looking so voluminous about?" Dree snapped at Sam.
Ooh, brave man. Sam wasn't exactly prideful, but he didn't exactly take much shit. Not much at all.
So I was surprised when he clammed up. Turned a few shades of red, too.
Now Dree was Sam's cousin of sorts, so he had mocking rights from
getting all the dirty secrets from the family, and he was the one out of
us who wasn't scared to take a little stab to wound Sam's pride. Sure,
we'd make jokes that would threaten a man's sexuality, but not his
manliness. That was for the girls. If that wasn't enough, Dree was like
four years older than the rest of us. Not that that mattered; four years
is huge when you're in high school (try dating a fourteen-year-old when
you're eighteen. Shit doesn't work), but it's next to nothing when
you're twenty, twenty-one and in college. Becky, she brought home a
thirty-five-year-old like eight minutes after she turned eighteen.
"I take it I missed something," I said with giddy interest. Sam didn't
take much heat, and Dree didn't speak up too often. Something was amiss,
and I make it my vow to discover what.
"Miracle Man here, guess who he ran into."
Having seen him take four times as much tail upstairs than anyone else
that night, I wasn't sure if it mattered who Sam had or hadn't seen. Not
even Sultry Sally would spend two seconds on him. Unless...
"No," I stammered with growing amusement and a growing grin.
Sam raised a threatening eyebrow when I glanced at him, but my ears were all for the other two gentlemen at the table.
"Bill? Do this be true?"
"She shows up shaking in her heels," Bill said, joining in on the fun, "spots him chilling with us, and comes charging over."
Tiffany may be the most adorable little girl you've ever seen, but even cute numbers like her can have wicked streaks.
"Right up to the old poker game, eh?"
"Kweh," Dree affirmed. "Started chewing him out, right then and there. I thought I was gonna lose my beer."
"But you managed to keep it down; we even got another pint into you
before the night was through," Bill added helpfully, "though you lost
that hand, if I recall."
"So Tiffany," Dree continued, "she's all on about broken trust, how his nasty friends..."
"That'd be us, if you weren't paying attention," Bill added again.
"...Would go spilling to their little girlfriends, and all of a sudden everyone would know."
"Didn't stop her from yelling at him about it smack in the middle of a party, did it?"
"I wonder if anyone told her boyfriend."
"Was he even there with her?"
"You know him; high school extra curricula and all that."
"Uh huh. 'extra' curricula."
"No, seriously. The guy's a book-dwerb."
"Poor guy. If only he knew."
Sampson chose that moment to grunt a warning at anyone thinking about making implications about his sister.
"Sam, bro," I said, still with humor written across my face, "you know
that in my heart I think Tiff is a great girl, not slutty at all."
Calling a man's sister a slut was just uncalled for. "And out of respect
for you, I keep her hand out of my pants, but just so we're clear, I
don't think she's that much of a challenge."
"Yeah, man," Bill continued, ever-helpful, "without Sally on your list, I
don't think you'd qualify as having gone the distance."
"She was there, too," Dree interjected.
"Seriously? How'd that go down?" Now it was getting good, and I was
started to get frazzled at my sister for pulling me out of what was
turning out to be a pretty interesting pool party. After all, while
Tiffany furious with her brother for leaking about their private
endeavors was rather interesting, she wasn't all that complicated. Never
someone you could take seriously. Salamandy, on the other hand, had a
brain; she just happened to love sex, wheres with Tiffany it was more
accidental. What made it fun was that Salamandy doesn't really like
Sampson and she hates Tiffany.
"And the twins there as well, if I recall," Bill mentioned.
"Dang, full house. Drivved, my man, you were saying?"
"Ah, yes," Dree began, taking on airs of significance with the aid of
the atmosphere and his frothy brew, "twas the fortnight of..."
"Ah, can it," Sam blurted out, making the rest of us sputter with
ill-concealed mirth. "Who was off with your sister, now that we're on
the subject?"
"Me?" I answered innocently, "I already mentioned, didn't I?" True, it
was nothing for me to cheer about, but I was good enough to play it off
without taking too much flack away from the wounded Sampson.
The drinking done and the day with it, we cheered ourselves and each
other one last time before retiring that Saturday to prepare for... you
guessed it, another boring day of school. For me, at least. I haven't
got a fucking clue what the rest of them do Sunday morning.
******
Fuuuck, my neck gets tired awful fast. I honestly enjoy college classes
after surviving the nightmare that was high school, but it seems I
cannot escape my fate of continuing to warm an uncomfortable school desk
for three hours at a time in pursuit of an education I had yet to
discover a use for. My pain was somewhat eased by the constant presence
of the crunchable college girls that were taking trig with me. I never
get tired of looking at something I don't want, and catching a glimpse
down someone's obnoxiously open shirt always brightens my day.
Sunday. Sunday was not the best of days in Rotterdale. Fridays and
Saturdays, those were bumping. Sunday was a day of rest. We weren't
overly religious; we have a temple and a cathedral and a church. Still,
it's... what's the word? "Grownups' Day". They finish with church or
whatever and peruse through town rather than work. They even spend time
with their kids. Not a good day for hunting scratch, not good at all.
With my parents off work as well, it's just time for me to spend in
school since there's nothing else worth doing.
And now class is over for the day. Six in the evening, and Rotterdale is
back in the twenty-forties, when my parents were my age. Can't even go
to Julie's since it's cramped full of old people like everywhere else.
Ergo, Bill's house.
"Hit me."
Dree got a sock on the arm from Sam.
"Bitch."
"Slut."
Somehow Dree still got his card, and he pwned all our faces with his straight.
"I hate me some Sunday, man," Bill complained. He was a pretty good
host. His parents were chill when they were around and we got to sample
the liquor cabinet. None of us minded seeing Sadie around, except she
got used to the three of us crashing Sunday evenings and tended to be
somewhere else so she didn't have to hide in her room all day.
"Want to catch a game?"
Being that Rotterdale makes both bread and butter off its huge stadium
and arena, there was almost always some kind of event or another on any
given day. The first Sunday of every month featured boxing, though the
scene was never as hot since the great Rocky Stetzen retired, well
before any of us were born.
"Hardly." Bill poured himself another few drops of Drambuie and scoffed at his incoming hand, "I'm never fucking getting laid."
"More for Drivved the great," Dree beamed. Sure enough, a few tossed
cards later, he ate up the small pool of antes that could have been
bigger if he had kept his foolish mouth shut.
We're not competitive gamblers by any means; we just began throwing
extra money down to make the game a little more interesting once upon a
time. None of us were rich, only getting small stipends from taking so
many classes or baby paychecks from off-and-on jobs, and all we really
had to play with after certain modest personal effects was what we
called "date money."
Sure, we hit up parties every once in a while or got lucky out of
nowhere, but sometimes a man likes to hit up a fine piece of ass and
take her out to a proper dinner in hopes for a bit of late-night fin in a
hotel room. Winning on Sunday night meant having enough to go north to a
nice dinner at the nice hotel. It may impress the ladies, but it's also
about spoiling ourselves by spending other people's money. Especially
after winning it from them.
Tonight, Dree was in line for the honors. It rather pissed us off, since
he'd probably fuck up whatever date he got if he had the balls to ask a
chick out, so our precious money would just fatten his pocket while the
rest of us had to put up with our usual sneaking into girls' bedrooms
or whatever.
Sam had it worst, there almost always being someone awake in his house
when he tried to sneak in, and his dad was a real pain about his kids
bringing anyone over without introducing them to him first. Tended to
make sure only real friends and dates got brought over rather than Sam's
usually one-night-only fare. Dree, he lived with his mom a few days a
week while he went to school; the rest of the time, he was off in the
Garden where he grew up. There wasn't much privacy, but you eat pretty
well there and there's work for some decent money. Me, I never feel like
breaking my back in manual labor.
Oh yeah, point. The four of us don't really have our own places to get laid. Hotel money is a good thing. Now on with the game.
The game was about over when Sadie came back with a few of her harpies.
Rather than sit there, subjected to their schoolgirl giggles, we were
faster to put whatever we had on the table. In a stroke of luck, I ended
up getting a few winning hands in a row and managed to sweep the table.
"Prick," Sam muttered at me, but it could've been Dree.
"Don't deal like a horse's ass next time then," I said comfortingly as I
collected my bounty. With my other two boys, I grabbed my shoes and my
shirt, polished off my Knob, and headed for the door.
"Good evening, Sadie," I said quite suavely to Bill's sister, even
kissing her hand in front of her friends and mine. "Night, bitch," I
said over my shoulder to Bill. Ha ha ha.
****
Ahh, the possibilities of a fatty wallet. I'm not afraid of a hard day's
work, but I abhor getting a job and a uniform and doing the same boring
thing every day. My mom said she'd pay for me to go to school, so I did
that rather than get a job. She gives me a little money because she
understands that it'd be near impossible to get a job with the hours I
have, but in turn her asshole husband cut me off from the fridge except
for what I buy for myself. Prick.
"What're you grinning about?" my sister asked me. We don't talk much, so
the thing about the party a while ago just died away without ever
getting anywhere.
"Nothin', nothin'." I at my roast beast in peace, though I couldn't stop grinning.
"I'm glad you had a good day, dear," my mother added. She and her
asshole husband had been off doing their thing that day, so Becky had
been enjoying the run of the house until they got back. I wonder where
she hides the sheets when she finishes.
Dinner at home was a bit uncomfortable. Since I was forced to buy my own
food, I wasn't about to pass up a free meal, even though Mom insisted
the family eat together every Sunday evening anyway. It was about the
only time all four of us were in the same room. Becky and I never really
got used to the asshole, see. Still, only one night a week. Never my
favorite night.
The thought of a big pocket of spare change was keeping my spirits up,
and it was obviously bugging Becky that she didn't know exactly what was
going on in my head. I finished dinner in a timely manner and excused
myself without pissing anyone off, and I was off for my room.
Knock knock.
"Go away." Usually it was my mother, if anyone, who came bugging me, but
whomever it was, no one minded me acting a little bit of a jerk.
"Lemme in, you jerk," Becky called.
I let her in.
"Teh fuck you want?"
"You were smiling at dinner. It's unnatural."
"Let's just say your big brother's got a hot date set for this Friday," I
beamed, more in pride than anything. Money wasn't easy, so having won a
good handful of it was a pretty good feeling. That, the waiting to
spend it, and the actual spending itself. Then there's the coming-down
when you're broke again, but I refuse to think about that now.
"Eew! Who's the fugly bitch? That middle-schooler you fucked last Friday ago?"
So she had been thinking about it. And what the fuck? I didn't bring up me catching her with some loser.
"She was eighteen," I lied. Or not; I honestly had no idea.
Oh fucking shit... I have no idea if she was eighteen...
"You sure?"
"What you want?"
"You want to know how old she really is?" she goaded with the delight of having such a secret to torment me with.
"Not really."
I was getting nervous. I'm only twenty, but laws were getting ridiculous
about 'carnal knowledge'. If you were a certain age, you couldn't touch
someone a day under eighteen, though a girl a week away from her
birthday is more forgivable than one about to turn sixteen. Admittedly I
had quite a bit of that 'carnal knowledge' that parents were so afraid
of their daughters being exposed to, but still, the town rule has always
been that kids can date anyone inside the four-year range. Whether the
parents knew that, the kids did. They didn't necessarily tell their
parents about it, mind, especially if, say there was a sixteen-twenty?
Still, not good if someone thinks it's funny if the girl I nailed ("made
a permanent dent in the bed" more accurately) wasn't quite as ripe as I
would've liked for my own safety's sake. It's not really wrong, but you
can't ever be too safe. And I, I hadn't bothered to be safe.
She was close to me. Glaring down at me. Her tits weren't popping out of
her shirt, but there was quite a show when she bent over to give me the
second degree. And those eyes... those ice-blue eyes with that
jet-black hair. The contrast draws you to her eyes no matter how hard
you try to look down her shirt, and then the rest of her face kicks in,
usually little stylings decorating her face done with an eyebrow pencil.
Absolutely...
"...Perverted."
"Huh?" Thank God I had been staring at her eyes when my mind wandered
off; it wouldn't do to have been caught staring down her chest. Of
course thinking that made me glance down. Her eyes were locked on mine
when I looked back up.
"You're nothing but a dirty pervert," she repeated. "What if she got pregnant?"
Okay, enough. "Now you're just being silly," I snorted, standing up suddenly.
She was in the middle of a smart-ass smirk that said she knew better
than I did about something, but my sudden leap forward made her
stumbled. She fell back on her ass; I went with her in trying to catch
her; it was a rather marvelous display of heroics on my part. Perhaps
she'd rethink her high opinion of me. "You alright?"
She shoved me away and got up on her own. "You just better hope Mom doesn't find out what you did," she snapped on her way out.
To think that her lips were so close to mine and I didn't do anything
about it kept me up that night. I was rock-solid, and I couldn't bear to
drain the pressure out, so obviously perving over my own sister. Last
night was one thing, but a second time? No, that'd be too weird,
wouldn't it?
But still. Sam did it, that much everyone knew. His sister, that is, not his hand.
We thought he'd been bragging hot air, but the way Tiffany blew up at
him, it was too obviously true. Was it possible? Was it? And if that
line could in fact be crossed, perhaps Sam's case wasn't unique. Perhaps
Sadie, that hot-and-cold fox that thought of her brother more of a
scratching post than a pillar of might, had in fact given herself to
him, alcohol aside. Bill can be full of shit when it comes to women, but
there was a twinkle in his eye that was indistinguishable from Sam's.
Were there more? Would I get my turn? Could I?
Keeping my hand off my equipment was more painful than had imagined. I
almost humped a hole into my sheet, but reminding myself that I'm not
the one to do my own laundry seemed to save me. For that night, anyway.
After that, images of Becky in her rare moments of simple booty shorts
and my old wife beaters, sitting on the washing machine, swinging her
bare feet and blowing bubble gum...
God, I've got it bad.
***
So much to do. So much to do, yet so difficult to choose. Rotterdale is a
small place, so the townsfolk tend to know one-another, but since some
of the biggest pioneers of the new wave green public transit movement
lived in this town, we were wired in to the major tracks leading to the
big cities.
Not just a tourist attraction for some of the boxing and modeling
celebrities we'd grown here, but our Downtown was one of the best in the
area, being outside of the local metropolitan influence, and we were
something of a straight shot between Raleigh and the beach. Ergo, always
someone new to look at. To hunt. I'm a headhunter. It's how I get down,
baby.
Too many new faces. Too many options. Makes me freeze up. All an
enterprising young malchik like myself wants is five or so fins to
choose from, but I've got a hundred today it seems. To shorten my
options, I'll stick in one spot: The beach.
Loveliest beaches on the east coast were right on our doorstep. It
wasn't summertime, but who gives a shit? There was still shopping and
walking to be done. Since this bit of land went environmentally
friendly, people are on their feet more often, and the beach was
practically dragged closer to their feet with the introduction of mass
transportation without the heartbreak of public parking.
I found myself an empty seat on a tiny table in a French café. The
owners were French, so they could give less of a fuck if you sat in
their chair all damned day long, but it was a courtesy to buy at least a
mug-full when you sat down. It was a small price to pay for delicious,
quality product, what you come to expect being so close to Rotterdale
Proper.
The primary advantage I was looking for from this spot was the view. If I
stretched my legs just a bit, I'd get sand on my feet. I could see the
whites of people's eyes when they got licked by the mild waves. There
was decent trim this time of year, and it was a hot day.
This all seems like a rather do-withoutable bit.
Giggling drew my attention; a pair of blue eyes glanced at me from under
a frame of dark red hair. Holly Childer, Dree's sister. Rumored to be
turning eighteen in about eight minutes, but no one had the balls. Her
older sister Kairi was more of a reclused, blond mouse that no one found
attractive despite her credentials, but Holly looked like she'd break
you in half with one innocent, blank stare.
Always wore the same style outfit: Long, black sleeve-gloves, black
thigh-high socks under a pleated skirt or summer dress, and a black
headband that kept her chin-length, straight red hair out of her face.
Had one of those bodies that looked like it would break your heart when
it dropped.
Our eyes locked. My crotch stirred. Firstly, she was Dree's sister.
Second, she probably didn't know if she recognized me, even after I gave
her a small nod of acknowledgment. Third, Ivy's as bad a sister as
Sally, Becky, and Sadie, and therefore talks shit about me and the boys
to everyone who'll listen, so my H-rating is probably ruined to Holly.
Shame. Not that I needed it, but that's not a body you turn down, nor is
the hair.
Her I know damn-well ain't eighteen yet. The last one, that was a
mistake. Holly, I had my eye on, but so did half of the senior class of
Rotterdale that would be freshmen in high school by the time she became
of age, by which time she'd be (supposedly) working on her doctor title
and probably helping teach whatever classes those boneheads taught. Me, I
had an angle, being her brother's friend. But then that would be
relationship territory, which spells death for my friendship with Bill.
Why risk all that for a beautiful girl that I don't know? That, my
friends, is the time you think with your upper brain. On with the story.
She was with a couple friends. They saw our mutual recognition, and they
possibly inquired after me. I'd probably get the "friend-of-a-brother"
treatment on her word, which wasn't the best of situations, but it
wasn't impossible. Still, when you're out hunting heads, it's best to
keep it simple. Find someone who doesn't know anyone you know. It can
get hard after a while when you're on the same college scene, hence the
beach.
I only wanted to do some studying today to see if the same faces popped
up a few times. They were either regulars, or vacationers. I wanted
someone who was just passing through, who was either staying at a hotel
or had a place another town over.
So it vexed me a little bit when I saw a face I couldn't resist. Dark
brown hair and icy blue eyes. Her outfit was more typical of the
cityfolk, but the resemblance to my sister was only too obvious. I threw
the idea away, but it kept jabbing at the backs of my eyeballs over the
next few hours.
The café served a few food items, so I kept my hunger sated while I
watched. I came with money to spend on a good date with a
carefully-selected female, and snacking was part of that budget. One of
the few times I would eat out, no matter how good the victuals are in
this town. "May I sit down?"
I looked up into a pair of icy blue eyes. Eyes so clear and colorful
amidst a sea of dark hair, your own eyes were drawn right to them.
Breasts, not bad. Her hips were grown in. Dressed smart, but a little
flashy: A young professional who hadn't forgotten how to have fun. She
could be wild on the weekends and pop however many Vicaden she needed to
appear immaculate for her board meeting first thing Monday morning.
"Please," I offered, standing up and pulling a chair out for her. This
display of male-to-female respect was more of a learned behavior than a
personal preference. Besides, I was shopping. This is when you're
supposed to be charming, and who am I to turn a dolphin down that comes
to my shore?
"Have you eaten here before?" I asked her when I passed her a menu.
"No," she said as I guessed she would. "I work in Raleigh, but I decided
that I was finally gonna use the train pass I have to go to the beach
and relax, seeing as it's pretty much right next door."
"On a Monday?" I called the garçon over and selected a pair of samplers I thought she might enjoy.
"My days are odd," she explained, "and I've only got four shifts in a week."
"Must be a nice job."
"It's a start; I don't know if I'm gonna stay in the company, though."
She was easygoing and not a complete idiot. Add that she wasn't hard on
the eyes and didn't live in town, and I'd say I'd already found a
winner.
"You got tomorrow off, too?" I asked boldly. The ice wasn't exactly
broken, but if I wasn't going to get anywhere with this chick, I wanted
to know now so I could move forward or move on.
"...Yeah, why?"
"I was just thinking, I was gonna go chill out up north for a bit, poke
around a bit. Since you've already got a train pass, thought you could
come along and goof off if you weren't up to anything too serious."
Bless those train passes. I heard horror stories of it taking half a day
to get a few dozen miles south on those horrid buses they used to have a
few years ago. Now that the new mag-lev was installed coast-to-coast,
you could get across the damn country in seven hours with a universal
train pass.
"Aaand... what does that have to do with me taking tomorrow off?" she
asked coyly, but her absent-minded, slow stirring of her coffee was a
green light for me.
"You know; maybe if you wanted to get a couple drinks, make a night of
it..." Ooh, I was playing it cool. Her eyes were doing the little
"decision" dance. She needed more bait.
"Thing is, I usually go up there anyways, maybe once a month, treat
myself a little bit. Wouldn't hurt nothin' to have a little company."
Her eye movements quickened; she was considering. Bingo. "Sure, why not?"
***
"It's kinda nice, you know? Causal dates like this."
"Totally." Turns out she had been pretty good company while I did my
usual thing walking through the lesser city of "up north a ways." She
didn't complain about anything, didn't spend the entire time on the
phone, shared in the experience rather than just follow me everywhere or
drag me everywhere. We ended up in the big hotel where all the
big-scale parties end up that Rotterdizzle can't facilitate. They employ
a pretty good executive chef; part of the fun about having such a
budget is that you can get a room and dinner. I offered to pay for hers,
but she picked up hers and mine since I had already reserved the room.
"You can just have a good time with someone you don't know, then forget
about it the next day if you want to. Unless there's something special,
you know?"
"Pretty much," I agreed. How nice. I didn't have to explain anything the next morning before we parted ways.
"Unless... you know, you're looking for a steady thing?" Always a catch.
"With you? Nah." Whoops. Made her frown. "I mean, you're really cool, but I think my sister would kill me if she saw you."
"Did I anger her god or something?" she asked with a short laugh.
"Nah; it's just you kind of look like her." I leaned in close to whisper, "I kinda have this thing for her. Awkward."
She had leaned in to listen, and she backed up when I had done, and with
a laugh. "That's kinda cool, a little kinky." She was smiling widely,
her tongue moving through her teeth to taste my scent in the air.
Slightly narrowed eyes of a satisfied lioness. Bingo. Loosen the bolts a
little bit. Keeps things open if you want to get a little more rompy at
night.
"But I'm having a great time with you, really," I added. "I'm glad you sat down with me earlier today."
"How could I not, you staring at me for who knows how long?"
"Was I?"
She paid the check, and up we went. This hotel is really cool, by the
way. The rooms all have themes. There are time-zone ones and cultural
ones. We were staying in eighteen-fifties France since we met in the
French café.
"This place is great!" she exclaimed. "Do you come here often?"
"What the fuck kind of question is that?" I joked. But honestly, does a
girl really have to ask how often a guy stays in a hotel? Odd point real
quick: They know you're no virgin, but do they really want to think
you've got a new bed buddy every week? No, they want to feel rare and
special. Funny thing, being that they're not, and they wouldn't keep you
around a moment longer than it took them to figure out you weren't
placed on the planet for advancing them in the world. It's a sickness
women have.
Instead of bantering with her, I turned her around and kissed her. She
was open to the idea, and held me gently as our heat worked up together.
We had been building on sexual tension all day, and it was steaming out
from both of us. I would have loved to undress her out of working pumps
and a skirt, but I had to deal with boring white sneakers and day
jeans.
Once she was de-pantsed, I set her on the bed and got to rubbing her pussy through her boring patterned panties.
"My my, you work fast, don't you?"
"Not really," I countered, "I just thought I'd do something different."
"Your room; you're the boss."
I like this girl's attitude. I might even get her number.
I kept rubbing her panties and kissing her, and her hands were equally
quick to get to my own pants. Once I got her decently wet, I dropped
down in front of her, slid one leg out of her panties, and went to work
on her pussy.
Sweet, this girl. You never know if they shower the day before or what,
but she was neatly trimmed, clean, and fresh. Very delicious. Some girls
look alright on the outside, but they forget to take care of the
basics.
I ate her with a bit of vigor. It's not my favorite, but I wanted to do something special to this girl.
She took it for a while, but in about three minutes she was calling for
my cock. "Stay right there," I suggested, and I crawled up to the head
of the bed and stuck my dick in her mouth, telling her, "touch
yourself."
From my position, I could get things moving a little faster if I wanted
to, plus I liked to touch her arm to feel her fingers moving inside
herself. There's just not enough female masturbation in the world.
Then I fucked her, and I came in her mouth. She said she liked the taste.
"I don't normally do this, but turn over."
"I'm not that kinky."
"Come on, we've got all night. I want to give you a massage."
And so I did. When I didn't go anywhere near her tail end, she was quite
surprised, though I can guarantee you that by that time she was looking
for it subconsciously. We were ready for another one, but all I would
do was eat her out again, which I kept up until she came pretty hard.
She said she'd suck me off for a while more, but I encouraged her to
keep it up once she got started, so she got me to come again, and again
she swallowed.
"I like the taste," she shrugged.
"Believe me, I'm not complaining. Shower before our third go?"
"Love one. They got a spa tub?"
"Bubbles and sparkling wine included."
**************
"I fucking hate men!" Slamming doors, ect.
Hmm.
Hi, people. Me again. It's a few days or something since the hotel, now
I'm back home, enjoying some quiet moments of reflection. Then my sister
comes home, shouting because she'll cry if she doesn't.
A few ways to go, here. One, I play the sensitive brother who's
"different" from the rest of the assholes my poor, disillusioned sister
knows. Two, I can be one of the assholes by way of taunting her for been
a poor, teenage victim to the more mature caste of our sick little
town. Three, I can mind my own business, knowing full well that my
sister in a bad mood is enough to make a grown man (me, in this case)
cry.
Knock knock...
"WHAT?"
Only for her. Still, makes you wonder whether this was such a good idea. "Beck? Do you wanna talk?"
I know; I'm asking for it. But try to understand, this girl, this sister
of mine, has been starting to infiltrate my dreams at school.
"No." The rejection had come fast and hard. With our parents gone, I
knew she was doomed to cry in her room for the next twelve hours,
possibly running up the electricity bill in the meantime.
"Maybe I can help," I offered anyways. "I couldn't help notice that it
was the demon known as 'man' that you're upset at. Being one of them, I
may be able to shed some light. Maybe help you understand a little?
Might make you feel better?"
We haven't been scribing all our adventures, the boys and I, but I think
that was the sappiest thing I've ever said. One of the reasons we don't
tally is because we boys don't share these more "tender" sides of
ourselves with one-another.
The door clicked open. There's my sister, looking like a goddamned
beauty queen. Eyes red, but not teary. Breaks my heart in half, really
it does. I may wave an "anti-woman" flag once in a while, but my sister
doesn't count. She's way too cool.
She stared me down as though I was really "one of them," but I used
every ounce of compassion I usually stow away and threw my arms around
her.
"Derrick, what the fuck?" she exclaimed in alarm, but I ignored and
hugged. It took a few seconds, but she ended up giving me a few pats on
the back of her own, if only to get me off. "Away," I should say.
She parted from me and took a seat on her bed, asking, "What I wanna know is, what gives you fuckwads the right to..."
Instead of letting her build up a head of steam that might work against
me, I hushed her up. "Let's go downstairs," I suggested quickly. "Mom
and Assfest won't be back for a long time."
"What the fuck for?"
I asked her again, and she resisted more, but eventually she warmed up
to the idea of doing something productive rather than tear up on her own
for some endless hours like had happened plenty of times already. Me,
I've shed a few tears of my own back in my high school days. Wasn't
pretty. Becky, she was always pretty cool about it.
I sat her at the kitchen table and got a big-ass bottle of vodka. Good
stuff that we boys get when we want to do some real drinking. Bill's
place has every kind of good stuff; but over here, we're not supposed to
drink. I get myself cranberry juice, tomato juice, shit like that you
can put vodka in.
After taking a few shots, Becky seemed to be more relaxed. I was getting
there as well, and at some point I put my hand on her thigh. A harmless
gesture, the part of me wanting to provide physical comfort for her.
"Who was it?" I asked in due time.
"Some prick from your school," she spat, instigating Laurel University
in the crime. "Why the fuck don't you guys pick on girls your own age?"
Oh dear. It seems as though my once-innocent little sister, while
knowing full-well she plays the game as I do, has discovered the deeper
secrets that plague our town: The Rotterdale Sickness. Do I tell her
about it, or do I shush her with more comfort and more booze, then put
her to bed?
"Because girls our age are all fucking their professors or their
managers," I said simply. "Or the upperclassmen if everyone else is
taken.
"Go fuck yourself."
I patted her on her thigh a bit, and the alcohol was helping her slouch
in her chair. "I'm serious, Beck. Guys in this town are evil, but so are
the girls. In college, all the chicks are taken up by older guys,
usually married, or jocks or whatever. So yeah, you high school girls
are kind of all there is left."
She scoffed.
"What? Like you're so busy dating high school boys?"
"At least college boys are out for an education or something," she
admitted. "High school boys, they're just trying to get into the college
parties, but they're not afraid to talk to girls like me, but only to
get into our pants."
"So we're agreed? Everyone's equal trash all around?"
She agreed. We both drank to it and laughed it off. With a serious look
in her hooded eyes, she asked, "Why can't I meet any nice guys like you,
Derrick?" I got nervous about my hand being on her thigh, but she
placed her hand atop it, encouraging me to grip her. This was getting
dangerous.
But I couldn't help but scoff at her ridiculous claim. "Me? Nice?"
"Yes, you." Those adorable blue eyes again. That outfit, those boots...
"I gave up being a nice guy a long time ago."
"How come?" For once, she looked like she wasn't thinking about her own
problems. She had turned her chair towards mine and scooted in,
effectively driving my hand further up her naked thigh, dangerously
close to her "I'm too mature for high school to cover my legs" skirt.
It was difficult for me to think, what with her warm skin resonating
with her heartbeat under my hand. She and I, we didn't do much bonding
like this, but there've been occasions. But her, gazing up at me,
genuinely interested in what I had to say, leaning forward just so
slightly, I just couldn't concentrate.
I purposefully rubbed her thigh some more instead, giving me something
to concentrate on. "I donno, Beck." The frill of her skirt was in reach.
Alcohol or whatever, I started playing with it; her fingers slid around
my wrist so she could still hold my hand without disrupting me. She
watched with me, but she was still curious to what I had to say. "I
guess I got tired of looking and never finding a catch like you."
Her eyes brightened up right away. "You think I'm a catch?" she asked.
"Really?" She scooted even further off her chair so that my hand slid
under her skirt all the way to her hip. I subconsciously held her from
the other side with my other hand as well as I turned to face her
squarely; she seemed to be loving the attention than being put off at
where her brother's hands were. But instead of the refute I expected,
she was holding my elbows. It was the first time she had let go of her
glass.
"Let's be honest, Becky," I said through the pounding of my heart.
Probably the vodka, hard at work. "You're beautiful, I love the way you
dress, you're not stupid, and you're not mean. You've never been mean to
me, that is. Not really." Sure, she and I have had sibling's spats, but
we were always on the level.
"Sure, there are girls who aren't empty-headed and look good, but
they're all back-stabbing, heartless witches. Not you, though." Smooth,
Derrick. Award-winning.
The damnedest thing happened. She leaned forward, tits trying to spill out, and kissed me.
No, not on the lips. On the cheek, somewhere. Like a sister that had
just gotten the best advice from her loving older brother. With one last
shot of medicine, she hopped up with new energy and fucked off back to
her room.
And here I am, sitting alone in the kitchen with a boner trying to scream through my pants.
Phone.
*****************
"Nice one, Dree."
"Go farnque yourself, clunt-stubble."
Dree took his second shot, and the ball bounced off the rim like it had
the first time. Sam caught the rebound, giving Dree and himself a second
go around.
Our game had gone on for the better part of two hours before Sam's
girlfriend called. I think it was his girlfriend. He answered when she
called, which was damn-near proof enough that's who it was. It's just
that he never said anything about having a girlfriend and he slept
around enough for all three of us, his own sisters aside.
The other two guys and I parked our tired asses on a bench to laugh at
the disposed. But as though on-cue, my own phone started ringing. I
repented getting the fucking thing ever since my mother gave it to me
shortly after graduating. "It's for safety while you're in college,
Son," was the excuse.
"What?"
"I wanted to... umm..." My sister. It's not like she never called me
before, but that she'd come looking for me rather than pick up a phone. I
was usually always at the college, Julie's, or one of the guys' houses,
so I wasn't hard to find to begin with.
"Becky? Problemo?"
"I wanted to... shut up!" Someone next to her had said something
smart-assed to her, but something struck my attention: She was nervous.
Anxious. Jittery of voice. "I wanted to tell you that I love you, and
that I really appreciate what you did for me last week."
"Yeah, sure," I said absentmindedly, trying to play it off for my audience.
The phone was silent for several pointed seconds.
"Beck?"
"..."
I checked the connection. Still working. While we're not on the level of
some of the machines they have for employees of the Garden like Sam's
and Dree's parents, but dropping calls was almost unheard of in decades.
"Well, I love you t..."
"...My friends told me."
I wasn't used to her interrupting me, so the shock of it hit me before
the shock of it. Dree and Bill both marked out somewhat silently; I knew
I was set to be in quite a bit of trouble that night, and we hadn't
even established what it was my sister's friends had told her. Even Sam,
who's girlfriend was outgabing into his ear on speakerphone so he could
listen-in on my over-loud phone conversation.
"...Told you what?" I asked as innocently as I could, having to ignore
my so-called "buddies" as well as I could. Funny how they had your back
except for when a woman had you by the balls. Then you were their
mocking-chain.
"About you. About me. Why you were being so nice to me."
My cheeks flushed quite thoroughly. Suddenly, I was wishing I didn't
keep the volume on my phone quite so high. Too bad it didn't occur to me
at that moment to turn it down.
Anyways, there's me, heart beating out of control, thinking a million
different things at once. She knew? She was calling to let me know?
Calling to tell me she loved me? That she appreciated me? She knew?
Wait, she knew?
How could she know?
Unless she doesn't know, and she's playing with me.
"Come on, Beck. Don't be..."
"You don't have to pretend. They heard about it from your friend."
I didn't even have time to think about it. The most deadpan glare
consumed my face and turned to meet the suddenly-preoccupied,
big-mouthed Bill.
"What?" he asked. You could almost believe he didn't have anything to do with it.
"...Derrick? Are you there, sweety?"
"Pffffffffttt..." Dree and Bill exploded together. Sam, still a bit
further down, was pfffting into his conversation with some girlfriend
we've never heard of. I almost didn't notice, for Becky had never used
such an endearing term for me before. I honestly thought she was
incapable of it.
"I'm here," I reminded my suddenly-very-interesting sister, but my glare
of doom still reminded Bill he was in hot water. "Who told you? And
what did whoever it was say, anyway?"
"Okay, it wasn't technically your friend, but my best friend heard it
from this guy, who said he hung out with your friend's uncle's
step-son's..."
I lost track at about that point. Wait, did I say "lost track"? I meant,
"lost interest". While she was blathering on, I completely forgot what
she was talking about. Yet another reason I don't have a girlfriend. The
girls in this town, they have a sickness. Phones are a part of it.
Seriously; there's a ban on children under the age of eighteen owning
phones. You legally have to have a high school diploma to purchase one;
they have licenses with pictures and your address and everything.
"So it's not really his fault, and I didn't really mean to..."
"Wait, Beck, what on Earth are you talking about?"
"It's okay, D-Derrick. I know you... like me."
Back on my side of the phone, it was getting ridiculous. Bill and Dree
were just at the point where it couldn't get any better. They just sat
there, self-satisfied grins on their faces, each word just more money in
the bank.
"Of course," I said before they could get even more annoying. "It's my
job, you know? What kind of brother would I be if I didn't..."
"...And I've been thinking all week long. About you."
That shut them up. Now we were in dangerous territory. Suddenly I was
glad I hadn't turned the phone down. Sampson casually hung up on his
girlfriend to shamelessly listen-in at less distance. Hell, even I was
hooked in, hanging on every word.
"...And I wanna do it."
"Umm... what?"
"...Will you be home tonight?"
"Umm... yeah. What'd you have in..."
"Great." Click.
And at last, empty silence. Dead air. Soon to be a ringing nothing that
irritated my ears more than the nonsensical chatter of a hundred
high-school girls in the middle of class time.
What the fuck just happened?
And let's not forget my mates. Bill, Dree, and Sam were all as much in a
daze as I was. Their faces all confirmed that it wasn't my imaginary
friend I was talking with on the phone to feel good about myself.
"Good game, blokes," Sam said after the moment of silence. "Drinks, yeah?"
"Finally joining the club," Bill said before following Sam off to the bar, a brisk pace away from the park, "good man."
Dree threw an arm over my shoulders to help return the feeling to my
body, and with his help, I got moving again. "Just treat her good,
alright?" he offered while I wobbled off after the two others. "This
one's your sister."
**************
Ahh, Julie's: Savior of my life, purveyor of delicious beer. "I'll has another one, pls," I said to the cute bartendress.
"Isn't that about enough for you, guy?" the cute pair of eyebrows wrinkling in concern for me asked.
"Can't feel nothin' yet. Gimme 'nother one."
"His parents just died," Sam said with an assumed visage of absolute
sorrow and a pat on my hand. Everyone else looked at him awkwardly,
wondering what hat he'd just pulled that bullshit from, but it garnered
me another beer. I raised it in his direction before choking on it.
Things were still so fuzzy. All my life, I had wond... for the past
eight years or so of my life, I had wondered what it would be like to
have sex. Then I had sex. With a total slut. Phenomenal in bed, but only
the first two or three times. After that, it was the fall-back girl.
Then, the girl who wasn't a complete pushover like the fall-back,
someone like Roxanne in terms of kissing ability, but not in slutitude.
Then, it was the search for the nice girl. Nowadays, and by that I mean
the last few weeks, I only see my sister.
Sweet, delectable Becky. Fantasy after fantasy starring her tried to
make their ways to the forefront of my imagination, only now they dared
where they had never dared before with the sudden thought that maybe,
someday soon even, that I would, in fact, be getting into the same bed
as Becky, and not for comfort during thunderstorms.
With each delicious beer I consumed, the fantasies got more wild. I
didn't dare think about one for more than a moment, refusing to get my
hopes up; but in came another, even better. After my eighth beer, it was
me and Becky lying naked on her bed with the black sheets, eyeing
one-another.
"You gonna be alright, dude?" Bill asked.
"Fine," I slathered. No one said anything back.
Huh?
I pulled my droopy head up to see why I was being ignored. Bill wasn't
looking at me, he was looking at Dree. "Wussamatter?" I asked in my
prime of championship linguistics.
"Dree's thinking of dropping out the club," Sam said with something of a snigger.
"Out? Whachoo mean, out? Thur ain't no out; whachoo talkin' 'bout?"
After all, once you were in, you were in. It's not like you can unbed
your own sister. Who would want to in the first place?
Sam got a sock on the arm; Dree had to order a new beer. "I donno, man.
Just haven't heard from her in a few days. Been meaning to ask Mom about
it."
"Whfoo?"
"His sister, man," Bill offered most helpfully. "Ivy. He thinks she took off."
"You think she took off," Sam corrected. "That lucky prick's probably just getting a week-long three-way."
"Three? Week? Wuh?" The alcohol suddenly seemed feel like little more
than a few beers as the conversation's logic-o-meeter unexpectedly took a
turn for the basement.
"You know, his other sister's new boyfriend. You know how tight them girls are."
"Huh?"
"Ivy's been gone awhile," Dree himself explained. "Maybe out with Holly
after all, but probably not, seeing as she's been pretty 'handy' with
Troy for the last week or so. Holly's new boyfriend," he added before I
could get even more lost.
"So Holly's busy; maybe she's with Kairi. You think about that?"
Dree contemplated that for a while by staring into his beer. "I donno. I
don't see her much. In fact, haven't seen her in about..."
"...A week?"
"Shaddap, Slam."
***********
I was home before I knew what hit me. Mom and Assfuck were home, but I
avoided. Upstairs, shower. No, dizzy. Best lay down a while. Maybe even a
nap.
************
...And then, morning. Hangover. Pain. Water. Bright light. Fuck.
The shower didn't take any of the pain away. Neither did the jug of
clear goodness from the tap kept in the bathroom for upstairs
refreshment. At least by then I was thinking a little more clearly.
Oh, fuck. Becky.
"Beck?" I asked at her door. Quietly. Mom and Asshat were still around
in an undisclosed location. "Look, I'm sorry about last night. If you
wanna talk or anything..."
How silly do I feel, standing outside my sister's door like a whipped
puppy, still in my towel and (very masculine) slippers? Sillier and
sillier with each moment, that was for sure.
Why wasn't she answering?
Now I feel silly and shitty. What the fuck was I thinking, getting drunk
on a night when my sister most especially asked for my attention? I
don't know exactly what she wanted to get up to, but it was still
completely rude of me. And here I'd just convinced her that I wasn't a
complete jerk like the other men she had ever met.
"Becky? I'm sorry..."
"Sorry about what?"
Fuck off, dickshit. "Help you with something?" I asked a bit more politely to my stepfather.
He stood there obstinately, waiting for me to explain myself or else
finish my business with Becky with him still standing there. But I did
neither; I turned to face him and waited with my eyebrows up, waiting
for him to say whatever he was going to say.
He had nothing more to add, so he took his shitty brown coffee and
departed for other known systems. I don't break the peace in our house,
but that doesn't mean I tolerate any shit from him when he feels like
being a nosy bitch. Never have. Since he married my mother and moved in,
he started making payments on the house, paying bills, buying groceries
and shit, which meant he had a say on what went on under the roof, so I
couldn't disrespect him to his face, no matter how much he deserved it.
I don't know what my mother ever saw in him, or sees in him still, but I
made it more or less clear that he's to stay out of my business, seeing
as I'm pretty much a tenant that just stays in my room whenever I'm
home. Just because he knows I don't like him doesn't make it worth it
for him to spend extra time getting his nose into my business.
Still, Becky said nothing. I tried the knock once more, and still
nothing. Best go about my business and wait for her to be ready to talk.
***************8
"So?"
"So, what?"
"Fuck off with your 'so what'; tell us the goods."
"Excuse me, do you gentlemen mind waiting another hour for my lecture to be over?" the inept professor asked.
Do you people want a quick summation of the sequence of events, or should I just say I got on to class with my nosy mates?
"Yeah, was it good?" Bill asked over the interruption. Technically he
wasn't in that class with me, but he and Dree saw fit to join Sam and
myself to find out exactly what had happened the night before.
"She never came home last night," I said in my indoor voice.
That didn't quite shake them off, but at least they wouldn't find out
that I had fallen asleep before I could find whether or not she was
actually there or not.
Still, I thought that perhaps there was a ring of truth in my little
white lie. What if she hadn't come home last night? What if she wasn't
even there that morning? But what kind of sense would that make? Why
would she go through all the trouble to... oh.
A set-up. Get me on the phone with all her friends nearby, get me to
admit I had a crush on her, invite me into her bedroom that night; then
have a good laugh about it, still with her friends; when I started
asking in a very meek voice why I wasn't getting any of what I was
pseudo-promised.
Women.
I felt like getting drunk again, so I led the charge back to Julie's
before waiting for the pompous professor to finish his lecture Sam and I
weren't paying attention to anyway. Jess was clearly flirting with me
as she served me and the boys; but then, she flirted with all the guys
at the bar. On the other hand, my boys and I are the only ones that
don't tip on account of our parents pay. Or Sam's dad or Dree's mom,
either way.
I tried to ignore the flirting as casual noise. I was too disgusted with
women for the moment, but that only lasted for my fifth beer.
***********8
"Fucking hell, five times?" Jess asked with marked incredulity some five hours later.
"Comes with the territory, baby," I said in a rather unimpressed voice. I
had always had an eye on her, but it only just occurred to her to have
my way with her. Something about trying to heal the sickness by
injecting my semen into it. Maybe I was reading a little too much into
my human bio class.
Why the hell would my sister do that? I thought we were close. If not
close, then at least amenable. Not far apart enough for her to run me
through the ringer like that. If we really were close, then such a joke
might have been a friendly precursor to something nice. Not necessarily
sex-related, but something intimate.
When the hell was she going to get home?
"You want me to walk you back to the trolley?" I offered Jess after she recovered from my last plowing.
"Actually, is it cool here if I stay the night?"
"Uhh... I donno..." It's not like I've never had a girl overnight, but
getting caught wasn't pretty. She'd have to wait until the old asshole
left before she could even leave my bedroom safely.
"My parents aren't being too cool right now, but I'd understand if..."
"It's alright," I submitted. It wasn't my favorite plan, but a little
morning gnocchi wasn't terrible. For a moment, I thought that being
walked in on by my sister, who wondered why I had stood her up for the
past two nights, only to find me in bed with another woman. Part of me
didn't want to look like the asshole who would shut her down like that.
The other part of me wanted her to get the idea out of her head that I
was some pushover she could pull a fast one on.
I gave up the sappy side of myself long ago. Nearly fell for it with Becky, too.
If only I was sure which side of the field she was playing on.
**************
A week went by.
************8
The news that my sister was probably dead was too much to bear. I want
so much to go to her, but she hasn't even been found yet. Only the
tell-tale remnants of the car they were in and a long, long drop down.
It would take a day to get recovery equipment down that cliff.
They would have sent an emergency helicopter, but with the sheer
distance down a grade like that, there was no point. Even if they did, a
helicopter wouldn't've been able to rip through a car crushed into a
pancake from the fall.
I couldn't think properly. Everything I saw was mildewy fuzz. All I
could hear was irritating buzzing. People that I passed by looked at me
awkwardly as I stumbled down the street to my house from the trolley
station.
The parents were home. I had to sneak upstairs to avoid them. They'd
hear the news in their own time. All I wanted was to fall on my bed and
die.
I started crying the moment my door shut behind me. I couldn't make it
to the bed; I collapsed right there, bursting into tears. Everything we
had been through, everything we were supposed to do together, it was all
gone. Nothing but wasted memories.
Still, the human heart persists. I got up out my bed, threw open the
window, and stared out into the sky. "I don't know who's listening," I
said in my cracked voice with my dry tongue, but being that whoever I
was trying to reach in my hysteria would mind, "but my sister can't be
dead. Please, I don't want her to die. Please."
Forever passed. I think about two hours total. I wasn't done feeling
sorry for myself, but I at least wanted to sprawl on the bed so I
wouldn't be cramped on top of everything else.
"I never knew you cared."
I couldn't believe it, but my heart did when it jumped clear out my
throat. There next to me, in my bed, was certainly a hot figure. She
must've been been in there all night, listening to me cry at the window.
A few quick hands searched to find a naked body about the size of my sister, with hair about the same as my sister's.
"Is it really you?" Brilliant line, Derrick. Smooth as shit.
Lips pressed up against mine. Someone I've never kissed before, but my
body knew to believe before I did: My sister was kissing me.
"Any more dumb questions?" she asked. No mistaking that sugary-sweet
voice. Those supple, subtle curves my fingers recognized from the
faintest touches of long ago.
"I'm so fucking glad to see you," I said with the biggest hug I could think of.
"Don't hug me, kiss me," she corrected. I was only too happy to oblige.
Her lips were the sweetest heaven I could ever imagine. Soft, delicate,
warm, and moist. No lipstick getting between us. Soon, her even more
moist tongue licked at my lips with such slow, gentle swipes a few times
before she pulled just far back enough that I could still feel her
breath on my lips.
"What do you want to do to me?" she whispered.
"I want you," I hissed, aiming for another kiss, but she pushed me away.
"Tell me."
"I'm gonna screw you into next Sunday," I said with growing passion,
throwing an arm over her to clutch her to me. I was foolish, falling
into the same trap she had lain before, only now the trap had sprung. I
didn't care. Rather a fault of mine. I must be sick.
"Yeah?" she purred. I got a kiss for my claim. "You're gonna screw me?"
"That's right, baby," I whispered. I nuzzled into her sweaty neck and
concentrated on my hands memorizing her body. "First, I'm gonna lick
your pussy."
"Mmm... then what?"
"Then I'm gonna take you by the hair and pull you to your knees."
"What for?" she asked with an air of innocence.
"So you have to suck me off," I insisted. I reached between her legs at
last to find a short triangle of damp fur. Her thighs were soaked as
well.
"I'd love to do that to you," she whispered back to me. "I'd love for you to make me. Keep going."
"When I've had enough, you're gonna suck your own tits for me,"
something I had been dying to see her do since they started to grow in,
"and then you're gonna play with yourself until you come."
She bit my neck to keep her deep breathing from turning into moaning.
Her hands were clutching at my back and shoulders; I could feel her
shaking. Hopefully to keep herself from jumping the gun. "Uh huh?"
"Then comes the time I screw you," I said with more confidence than I'd ever felt in my life.
"You're really gonna fuck me?"
"I'm not stopping until you come at least three times on my dick."
"Are you gonna use a condom?"
Now there was a funny question. Why was she asking me? Oh, of course.
"No chance, baby. You're going to feel nothing but me inside you."
"Where are you going to come?"
"Inside you, baby." I could see what faint light there was from the
window reflecting in her eyes; she was looking right at me. "All of it."
I couldn't believe what I was saying, but I couldn't lie to her. That's
exactly what was going to happen, and I knew she needed to hear me say
it.
"I always make guys pull out," she goaded, but she did so with her teeth
clamped around my earlobe, sending shudders down my spine that she was
tickling. "Even though they all wear condoms with me."
"I'm not going to," I returned. I gazed into her face as I said it; my
eyes were used to the darkness such that I could make out the outline of
her beautiful blues. She stared back at me, waiting. I kissed her hard.
"Is your cock big?" she asked excitedly.
"It's perfect for you," I said out of nowhere. "It was made for you."
"I can't wait."
"For what?"
"To suck on it. To feel it inside me. Are you really gonna come in me?"
"You bet."
"I've never had that done before. What's it like?"
"It's the best part. You're gonna love it."
"Is that what you did with that blond slut at that party?"
What? Is that a yellow light? No, I don't think so. She was excited. "Sure is."
"What the hell did you do to her to make her so fuckin' noisy?"
"I didn't have to do a damn thing; she just wanted me. Why were you so quiet?"
"I didn't want that guy."
"Do you want me?"
"Yes."
"Did you want me then? At the party?"
"...Yes."
"She invited you to stay."
"I never thought... would you really have...?"
"Do you want me to show you exactly how I make a woman scream in pleasure?"
"Fuck yeah."
I kissed her sweet lips; we were gonna have such an awesome time. "Go
get dressed," I instructed, already falling into my new role.
"What for?" she asked innocently.
"So I can undress you properly."
"What should I wear?"
"Something... innocent."
I could almost hear her grin wickedly as she rolled on top of me. She
kissed me hard on the lips, then once on the chest, and took off out of
my bed and out of my room. I felt the ghosts of her fingers that trailed
dangerously high on my thigh just as she stood up.
And I waited.
And waited.
And waited even more, beginning to get impatient. And then concerned.
What the hell was she doing? Playing with me again?
Wait, did she actually fake her own death?
What the hell is going on?
Nearly two hours later, there was a knock on my door. It opened straight
after, and my sister slipped in. "Derrick? You still awake?" she
whispered, and I breathed at last.
"Yeah, babe. Where've you been?"
She hobbled in to kneel at my bedside. She was dressed in her large,
white shirt she had stolen from me a few years ago to wear to bed. I
could only imagine what color panties she had stretched across her silky
ass. "Lita had left a message. I think I may have fucked up."
"How?" The night was pretty much screwed for me; I no longer felt any
mood from her. I sat up on the backboard and invited her to sit next to
me.
"I guess you figured out I made up the thing where I was in a car crash?"
"The thought came to mind, but I was sure it was just a mistake."
"It sounded like a good idea at the time, and I didn't think anything
bad would happen, but you know how Lita works at the police station?"
"No. Who's that?"
"She's a friend from high school. She made it look legit that I was in a
crash, but no one else was supposed to know. It kinda leaked, so now
she's got to cover it up, and I had to talk to some people. I think I
may be in trouble."
"It was just a joke; they're not gonna throw you in jail," I said comfortingly, wrapping my arm around her.
"I'm sorry about tonight," she said sadly. "I'll let you fuck me later, alright? I'm just not in the mood anymore."
"It's fine. You don't have to if you don't want to."
"No, I do. We just have to do it another night."
*****************
And another night came.
And another.
A third day, and a fourth.
"Beck? Anything wrong?" I asked her on the fifth day. Tuesday.
"No, why?"
"Umm... nothing."
"You?"
"Fine, just fine."
"Great. Love you, gotta run!"
***************8
"Why are you such a loser, D-rick?"
"Because he's a virgin."
"Fuck off, the both of you."
Another day, another round of beers. The boys were still convinced I was
in line to be getting some from my own sister and thus officially
joining the group, but they were likewise convinced I was doing
something wrong to have not gotten any yet.
"You think she's gay?"
"She probably fell in love with some dude from out of town; that's why she was gone for a whole week."
"All goth chicks are gay."
"Would you idiots shut up?"
"Look, man," Bill said seriously, "you've got to make a move. You want to be stuck wishing the rest of your life?"
"Naw, dude. But what the fuck am I supposed to do?"
"Seduce her," Dree said sagely.
"Fuck you, and fuck you," Sam said helpfully to both Bill and Dree. "Now
Derrick, my man, she wants you, but you're gonna have to play to your
strengths if you wanna move this thing forward."
"Huh?"
"Your strengths, man. She came to you, right?"
"Yeah..."
"So, all you gotta do is be like however you were at that time. Remind her of what lit the fire under her sweet ass."
"Oh."
"I wasn't gonna do this, but otherwise you'd be hopeless."
I was ready to sock him one, but he pulled out a book.
"You know I can't read."
"It's a book about subversive suggestion. Study hard, and when you talk
to her next, your words will be used to setting you both in the right
direction. To bed, that is."
I socked him one anyways, but I took the book.
************
Fascinating, this book. I might have to give it a try.
***********
"Becky? Are you in there?"
I had mostly given up on expecting anything from my sister, what with
her cooling off but not quite all the way down to her usual self. But
with this book on my side, I thought there was hope at last.
She opened the door; she was wearing my old shirt again with neither
striped socks nor long underwear to mar her beautiful legs or feet.
"You're beautiful," I said before she could greet me. As the book
predicted, she blushed like an attention-craving schoolgirl. "May I come
in?"
"Sure." She got out of my way so I could walk in. She shut the door behind her.
"Something on your mind?" she asked, as though it wasn't obvious enough.
I was eyeing her body every which way I could, particularly those legs
of hers.
"Been a while since we talked," I said softly.
"Busy, sorry," she apologized, though I could tell I was already getting
to her. She was squirming where she stood, covering her crotch with her
hands, and not knowing where to look. "What did you want to talk
about?"
I closed the distance between us, so close that I could feel the heat
from her black-tipped toes. She was forced to focus on me, on my eyes.
Her adorable blue eyes looked up at me, causing her black hair to
cascade over her delicate shoulders and reveal her tender, white neck.
I set my arms gently on her hips. "Kiss me," I demanded.
"Derrick, we can't just start doing shit right now," she said with some
urgency. With other people in the house wide awake, she was right.
I chuckled confidently. "It's not what you think; you're just going to kiss me."
"Oh, alright." She stood up on those cute toes of hers, brought her
adorable eyes closer to mine, and pecked me shortly with her incredible
lips. "All better?"
"Come on, Becky," I mocked. "Just because we're not going to do anything doesn't mean you can't kiss me like we are going to."
"W... what do you mean?" she asked with some insecure uncertainty.
"I'll show you," I said, cupping her face so that we were sharing the
same breath. "Here's my beautiful sister, her inch not a lips from
mine."
"That's back-words," she giggled, but her breath was rapidly increasing.
"My sister that wants me to take her to bed; my sister that looks sexy,
even when she's just wearing an old shirt of mine. She told me that
she's going to make my dreams come true. I'm going to show her what a
wise decision she's making in choosing me." I was running my fingers
through her hair as I spoke to her. Switching between gazing into her
eyes and looking at the rest of her perfect face.
"I just hope she knows what she's in for, coming to bed with me. I take a
certain pride, taking care of a woman, and never have I wanted to prove
myself to a woman so much as to this one. I'll devour her skin, make
her moan, make her..."
She cut me off with her lips, leaping into my arms and knocking me back
to her bed. Her tongue drilled its way into my mouth, demanding a dance
with mine. Her body was dancing over my body as well. I could see down
her shirt, all the way down to her little panties. Without both of them,
I would wager her pussy would be dripping down onto my straining cock.
I pushed her to the side to kiss her more deeply, fantasizing about
everything we would do together once we crossed that line. Like she
said, tonight wasn't a safe night.
"Fuck me," she demanded, pulling her shirt up.
"Like you said, tonight's not a safe night."
"But Derrick...!"
"How do you feel right now?" I asked her with an intent gaze.
"Fucking hot, like my pussy is on fire, and I'm about to use it to set you on fire," she said hungrily.
"That's all? Your pussy?"
"My nipples, too. And my ears. And my nose. And my tongue. If we don't fuck, I'll break apart."
"I want you to remember this feeling," I said in a certain tone of voice
with a certain stare into her face, both of which I'd learned from the
book. "I want you to be able to feel this way whenever I'm around. I
want you seeing me or hearing me to bring you close to insanity."
I kissed her several times between words, hardly believing my own luck
or the passion she was feeling for me. "You'll want me," I said in my
throaty tones and my hands hovering over the spots she wanted touched
most. "You won't be able to control your desire for me." Her chest and
hips were thrusting up to find my hands. I was having to control myself
to set the pattern, or else I would risk screwing it up.
"I... can't... possibly... all... the... time..." She was slipping out
of control fast. According to my reading, she'd fall unconscious from
getting too hot. Still, she was at her most persuadable.
"You'll need to be at your most creative to keep me satisfied," I
continued. "Outfits, dates, sneaking around behind Mom's back, flirting
with me in public..." I stared straight into her eyes. "Finding other
girls for me..."
She was gazing back at me, her eyelids nearly too heavy to see out of,
but she still nodded vigorously in submission. "Yes, anything. Just
touch me."
"Is that all you want?" I asked, continuing the torture.
"No, I want your big dick inside me."
"That's all?"
"I want your cum in me, too."
"I thought you didn't do that."
"I'm going to with you."
"Are you thinking about it?"
She bit her lip and nodded. Her legs spread, her hands slithering along her naked thighs, closer to her panties.
"How could I?"
"You have to," she insisted, almost hyperventilating from her arousal.
"But once I strip you naked..." She gasped, and a little moan slipped
out. "...All I'll want to do is lick your sweet little pussy."
She nodded in agreement. "Mine's the best."
"Sweet?"
"The sweetest."
"You happen to know?"
She nodded again.
"So you've tasted other pussies?"
She n... no, she shook her head.
"You haven't?"
Again, she shook her head.
"Never been with a woman? Never kissed one?"
Nothing.
"It would please me if you did."
Her heavy eyes lit up.
"Do you want to please me?"
She nodded most vigorously.
"You would make love to a woman just for me?"
She was keeping her eyes open somehow, despite the overwhelming desire
to pass out. Her nod was slow; her hand slid down my chest in affection.
"Even that little slut I was with at the party?"
"...Yes..."
"You'd do everything with her." It wasn't a question.
"Yes," she said more confidently.
"Were you jealous of her?"
"Yes," she insisted.
"Did you want her, too? At the time?"
"Yes."
"You're going to have her. And any other girl who I think is good enough for you."
"Thank you, Derrick." She was no longer begging for contact; she was simply gone. Only awake in that her eyes were open.
"Your body belongs to me, now."
"My body is yours," she affirmed.
"You will come when I tell you to."
"Yes, please."
"You will think first of my pleasure. Everything you do will be towards making me happy."
"Yes, Derrick."
"Tell me you love me."
"I love you."
"Now sleep."
****************
"What? Oh, hi, Derrick. I'm sorry about last night. Did I fall asleep or something?"
"I love you, Becky," I said instead. "Last night was amazing."
I kissed her firmly, inciting the old feelings from the night before. In no time, she was hot as a tea kettle.
"Tonight, yeah? I want you to fuck me tonight," she cooed. "Will you?"
"There's a big party coming up soon," I suggested. "Maybe we should do
it there? Get in the mood, watching others? Does that sound good?"
"Oh Derrick, that'd be perfect. Will you do something for me?"
"Anything, baby."
"Will you lick my nipples for me?"
"Not now; not until it's time for me to claim your body," I said in my
commanding tone of voice. She was taking it in stride, just like she was
supposed to. "Now go take a shower so I can fantasize about you being
naked. Afterwords, make me some breakfast and bring it to me here."
"Yes, Derrick," she affirmed lovingly.
************
So, the big party comes. Everybody gets dressed: Men in slacks and shiny
shoes, women in spring dresses and high heels. It's like practice for
the Senior Ball. The official rule is that if you're going, you can ask
anyone you want, anyone in the world, and it's very impolite manners to
refuse. Couples would still go together, but a lot of the guys from
college would wind up taking high school girls instead of their own
girlfriends.
Those girlfriends would, in turn take either a different guy or girl for
their own date. It was a dance where you could invite the person you
wanted to take, not the person you were supposed to take. No one dared
throw it in your face the morning after because everyone was equally
guilty for even being there.
It was still a dance, though. Actually, it was an actual event hosted by
the Garden itself, held at Bombshell Manor, one of the biggest houses
in town. It was famous for being the house of the two most famous
cheerleaders in Cameron High history. Rumor has it the founder of the
Garden was born there.
We stepped through the giant double-front doors to find the place was
already bumping. The foyer was completely devoid of any furniture, and
the carpet had been rolled up so no one tripped their heels or spilled
their drinks. I secured a pair of champagne flutes and toasted the
evening to my lovely companion.
"Hey, Der. Who's your date?" asked an old friend from high school.
"I'm Elizabeth," Becky said for herself, extending her hand. As
expected, no one recognized her once she swapped her usual dark makeup
for something in a more "barely there" motif with light, spring colors.
She wore a simple dinner gown of soft blue-green and matching heels, and
her hair was straightened to decorate her bare shoulders.
"I only hope you're sharing, that's all I can say," the guy said, kissing Becky's hand before disappearing into the party.
"You wanna go out onto the back lawn?" I asked her. The front lawn was
covered with people as it was, but the back yard was huge. We had to go
through the pool room to get there, and the pool was huge. And inside.
Insane.
There was a live band playing out back, and couples were dancing the
night away all over and everywhere between there and the front hall, and
on the front lawn as well. Becky and I had already left our shoes with
the custodian in the foyer, since between the padded room, the pool
room, and the kitchen, there wasn't really proper surface for dress
shoes, especially out in the grass. We joined hands and joined the
crowd.
"Hey, man!" several people shouted upon recognizing me. Everyone wanted
to know who my date was, but all they ever got out of either of us was
"Elizabeth". Throughout high school, no one had ever known her real
name.
"Hey, man," interrupted a party-goer. "You gonna hog her all night, or you gonna share?"
"I love you, Becky," I whispered down to her.
"I love you, Derrick," she whispered back up, and I kissed her. Then I handed her over.
I found myself some stone seating to cool my dogs.
"I saw that," Bill said next to me.
"How's your night going?"
"Fucking Sadie tossing her shit around again," he grumped.
"So tap that one more time."
"You kidding? She'd kill me if she even thought anyone knew; you saw
what happened to Sam. Lucky for him Tiff were too dense to say what she
was talking about at the time."
"Psh, yeah. You seen him around?"
"Yeah, he brought a few young things with him. You?"
"Just the one I came in with."
"Who is she?"
"That's Becky, stupid."
He snorted into his beer. "What? Her?"
"In the nubile flesh."
"Dude, you got to let me dance with her."
"Go for it. I'll go see what Sadie's doing."
"Deal."
Sadie was easy enough to find. Her dress looked like it was a halter
like Becky's, but it was actually a string-tied top and separate sarong
bottom, good for pool parties. Becky and I had also come prepared for
swimming, but Sadie had already cast aside her halter top.
Or had she? The two guys she was dancing with probably couldn't resist
the temptation of pulling the little strings to make her top fall away.
One of them was kissing her neck and grinding into her from behind while
the one in front was kissing her lips.
The song ended, and I stepped in. "Mind if I cut in?" I asked of them.
"My my, little Derrick," she mused when she saw me. She bid the other
two away with a kiss each before sauntering up to me, breasts and hips
swaying. "Does mommy know you're out?" Standard behavior for sisters of
buddies. I was over it.
"Just one dance," I said, holding my hand out.
She smirked at me. For an eighteen-year-old, she handled herself better
than people twice her age. Had them eating out of her hand. Speaking of
hands, she took mine, which I kissed most graciously. I pulled her into
my embrace, and we began to move with the music, albeit slowly.
Unlike her previous partners, my hands stayed put and my eyes stayed
locked on hers. She was too headstrong to feel uncomfortable; in fact, I
think she liked it. "So. Who're you here with?" she challenged.
"Her," I said, pointing to the black-haired girl that was quickly
drawing a crowd with her bare feet boogying to the music. "You?"
"I forgot," she said whimsically. My face was devoid of reaction.
"Although... it seems to me that right now, I'm here with you."
"I could get used to that."
"Mmm... me too."
We spent the whole song showing off what good dancers we were. That
wasn't saying much; we were both more club dancers, but neither was any
better, and we were rather enjoying ourselves. Probably more than with
anyone else we'd ever danced with, being that since the two of us were
locked behind the friend zone, there wasn't any pressure.
We both saw Sadie's brother Bill aiming for my sister Becky, but he
never made it through the tight circle that had built up around her,
making the two of us burst into laughter. When the song ended, we stuck
together, and for a pleasant surprise, Becky came to find me.
"Who's this?" she asked when she saw me with Sadie practically in my lap.
"I'm Honey-Bee," Sadie answered.
"Cheerleader, huh?" Becky answered. The two shook hands, though it was
more a warm holding designed to boil man's blood. "I'm Elizabeth."
"Really," Sadie purred. "Do you go to Cameron High?"
"Yeah." The music began again. "Come on."
Becky pulled Sadie away from me, leaving me to return for something more stimulating than champagne. There was Bill again.
"How'd it go?" I asked casually.
He fumed silently. "I saw you getting rather friendly with my sister," he noted rather than be subjected to my goading.
"Yeah. Now look who's getting friendly."
He peeped over to the vast collection of bodies. His sister was, as
always, easy to find. She was locked at the hands with my sister still,
both of them enjoying the music. "If you'll excuse me, I've got more
work to do. Why don't you see if Sally's up and about? Seeing as it's
'Come On Whom You Usually Don't' night." Even your boy's sister wasn't
off-limits tonight. Even your own sister.
I made my way through the thick crowd, rubbing my swelling manship
against girl's asses every two seconds. Most of them would reach behind
themselves without looking to get a feel for what was digging into their
dresses. I found the two girls I was looking for, but I held back for a
minute when the music changed to something slow. Without hesitating,
Sadie threw her arms around my sister's shoulders to hold her close;
Becky in turn wrapped her own arms around Sadie's waist, her hands
resting on her bare back.
When the minute was up, I approached. Their eyes were closed during
their silent spin, so I was able to sneak up behind Sadie undetected and
unrecognized. She backed into me indiscriminately as I set my hands on
my sister's hips. Becky opened her eyes then, and upon seeing me, kissed
me over Sadie's shoulder.
We ground our hips together as though Sadie wasn't between us; Sadie
herself freed her hands to clutch our heads while we kissed. My own
hands slid from Becky's waist to Sadie's, right to the knot on her
sarong, which I made quick work of. When the cloth fell to the grass, I
couldn't help but spread her cheeks, clad only in a thin white thong,
and rub my erection up and down her ill-disguised cleft.
She moaned and tilted her ass up to better receive me. "Oh, hey,
Derrick," she said upon opening her eyes. She took over my kiss with my
sister, leaving me free for getting into other trouble. Becky, as soon
as Sadie's sarong fell away, slid her hands down Sadie's back to cup her
bottom, and she felt my hardness upon the tanned ass. She was then the
one to spread the girl's cheeks so I could push deeper between them.
My hands went back to Becky's hips, but they were soon down to her ass,
and I pulled her tight against Sadie, and therefore Sadie's ass against
my cock. Then I felt along Becky's bare back and then her neck. This was
my first real feel of her naked skin despite my two nights in a bed
with her. They had stopped kissing by then, preferring to focus on what
they were doing to tease one-another with their hands.
They parted about half a foot so they could take in each other's bodies.
Becky in her backless dress and no underwear, Sadie in nothing but
underwear. Both were without their shoes. I took the opportunity to
slide my hands to Becky's front and into the sides of her dress to feel
her breasts for the first time.
They were heavy, feeling much bigger than I ever made them out to be. It
was obvious Becky had hidden her treasures well throughout the years.
My warm hands made bumps on her breasts, and her nipples turned into
hard points under my palms.
I pulled my hands out and made for Sadie's waterproof bra; her breasts
were obviously larger, and holding them with her back to me was much
more comfortable. I decided to let my hands rest joined together at her
waist, dipping dangerously down to her thong from the front.
As soon as my hands came away from Becky's breasts, Sadie took up
interest and began to flick her pointing nipples with a fingertip. Becky
moaned, urging Sadie to lean right over and bite one of my sister's
nipples. With Sadie bent over, Becky and I had a moment. "I wanna fuck
her," I saw her lips say quietly. I answered her by brushing her lips
faintly with mine. Oh how glad I was to have made her wait.
She moaned then; I saw Sadie had slipped her hand down to rub Becky's
pussy through her dress. She lifted her head back up, and Becky devoured
her lips and clutched her breasts.
Sadie's hand stayed where it was. When Becky had her fill of our new
toy's tits, she clutched my ass and pulled it tight, making my erection
drill head first into Sadie from behind. With their bodies pressed close
together again, my hands were out of sight to slip under Sadie's
panties to feel her wet mound.
The song ended, and hands fell to sides. There were vultures circling,
trying to get in on the action. But another song started up, and the two
girls were circling around me. Becky ended in front of me with Sadie
behind. They danced raunchy to the raunchy music, squeezing me between
their thinly-clad bodies. Becky's back was to me so she could get a
taste of what Sadie had been having; the rough material of her dress
didn't feel quite so good as Sadie's near-bare ass, but knowing it was
my sister craving my dick made it feel just fine.
Sadie's tits on my back felt just as good. Becky turned around to feel a
bit of me from the front, and in the passion of feeling my cock grind
against her pussy, she pulled at Sadie's head and kissed her over my
shoulder. With a few more minutes gone by, the two circled around me
again, landing in the opposite positions once they parked so we could go
through the whole thing again. Despite everything I felt for Becky,
feeling Sadie's obvious experience when she rubbed her thong-glad pussy
over the bulge in my pants made me want her desperately.
The band closed up shop for the five minutes, which would give us time
to rest. We'd probably seek other dance partners to make the most of the
night.
"A couple of us are going to nab a room upstairs," I said to Sadie.
Becky pulled herself under my arm after the music ended, leaving Sadie
in her skivvies to stand alone. Not to ditch her, but to gawk at her
body. "You think maybe you wanna join us?"
"Mmm... I donno. Are you gonna be there?" she asked of my sister.
Becky looked up at me, then again at Sadie's body. "Definitely."
"Then I'll be there. I think I should catch a swim, unless you wanna help me find my clothes?"
"You enjoy yourself."
"Come find me when you head up, yeah?"
"Wouldn't miss it," Becky answered.
We both watched her leave. With most of the couples outside swarming the
bar, the two discarded pieces of Sadie's dress were easy to find. She
walked casually past them both.
"You feel like hanging out on the pool deck?" I asked my sister while watching the younger girl's ass sway.
"Yeah."
We both lazed in chaises at poolside, sipping sangria and watching the
sharks chasing the dolphins. Some were in swimming suits like Sadie,
others had grabbed undershorts and undershirts from boys to bathe in. A
few girls had hiked up their dresses to let their bare legs dangle in
the water while they socialized with the swimmers and the loungers.
There were a few highlights to be seen there. Since half the senior
class of Cameron High seemed to have shown up, there was plenty to see.
The girl's and boy's swim and water polo teams (usually the same people)
were there, making the most noise. Several cheerleaders like Sadie were
there; they were easy to spot, usually having the most extreme
waist-to-hip ratio and or the largest breasts.
The swim-team girls, liberal in the private party, had donned the
tiniest swimsuits ever. Not even the slutty cheerleaders could keep up
with the experienced dressing of the swimmers nor the true submerged
form of flirtation. The boys were mostly in swim trunks except for those
that actually swam for the school.
There were repeated girly catcalls for the boys in their small red
spandex suits, more so than for the girls, at least as far as their
outfits were concerned. The real cheering began after the wrestling got
under way.
The captain of the cheerleading squad had gotten into a scuffle with the
girl's water polo captain. The two girls were flopping about in the
shallow end, going for one-another's tops. It went on just long enough
to start getting some attention before the cheerleader's string bikini
was easily untied, leaving her topless and her opponent grinning.
She fumed at the other girl, grabbed her by her short brown hair, and
kissed her hard. While she had her distracted, she slid her fingers
under the tight spandex of the near-non-existent top and pulled it over
her head so that their breasts could mesh.
Becky and I decided we'd had enough, but only after the two girls
slipped out of the water, topless, and disappeared, leaving their
boyfriends behind. We found Sadie and chucked ice cubes at her until we
got her attention.
As the three of us left the pool deck together, we were cut off by Sadie's brother.
"Dude," Bill said, seeing my sister on my left and his sister on my right, the two girls' hands laced together behind me.
"Yup?"
He pulled me aside, leaving the girls to giggle together.
"That's my sister, yo."
"And?"
"...It's my sister. She's not like the rest. More important, I still gotta live with her."
"Dude, it's totally cool. I probly wasn't even gonna do anything with her, but now you mention it..."
"Hey, guys!" I shouted at our sisters. They came padding over, hand in hand.
"Elizabeth," I said to Becky, "meet Bill. I have but three close
friends, and he's one of them. He's also too lazy to hunt his own
scratch, and you two ladies together would probably kill me."
Becky grinned wickedly as Bill took her hand. Even he didn't recognize her in her beautiful dress.
"Hey, Honey-Butt," Bill said to his sister.
"You too, Prick-Dick," she answered.
"That's not what you said last month," he said coolly.
"I was too drunk to speak properly, dimpshint."
Their banter brought us to the foot of the grand staircase in the front
hall. We had recovered our shoes; we men wore shoes that worked well
enough without socks. "Sockless Parties," these gatherings were called
on account of the pool. A low-class name for an other-wise dignified
orgy in disguise. As we made our way up the stairs, we saw Sampson just
disappearing into a room.
"Hey, mes amigos!" he shouted down just in time. "Come on up; I got a free room!"
The four of us hustled upstairs. "So, who'd old Sam find to entertain,
or was he planning on jerking off in private?" Bill started when we got
inside, but... Hello, beautiful. Didn't expect to see you in here."
There was Salamandy. Son of a bitch. We all thought she hated her
brother, but she had gone upstairs with him, just the two of them.
"Well, isn't this cozy?" she said when she saw Bill and I come in with our two sisters. "Honey, isn't that your brother?"
"No," she said, looking at me.
"Not him, the other one."
"Oh, him? Yeah. Isn't that your brother?" Sadie returned, notating Sam.
"I guess it is. Were you gonna...?"
"Why? Weren't you?"
"Figured I'd give it a try; it's a party, after all. You?"
"One more time couldn't hurt."
"What's with the little princess?" Sally then asked after Becky, who was
beaming in her dress and heels. Sally herself wore a simple black
bellyless tube top and a long, black skirt with no slit.
"That's Elizabeth," Sadie said. "D-boy's date."
"What in fuck?" Sam laughed. "Sisters only, dude. Didn't you hear?"
"Actually," Becky said, turning to look at me, "I am his sister." She kissed me on the spot, making everyone's jaws drop.
"Well, are we gonna do this, or stand around staring?" Sally asked, unzipping her skirt.
"Let's have the boys volunteer to get us some drinks while we get to
know each other," suggested Sadie, who took my sister from me and went
to help Sally with her dress. A look and an eyebrow from both girls let
the three of us know we had better get the fuck out of there pretty
quick.
"Women," Sam muttered on our way down the stairs.
At the bar, we ran into Dree.
"Bad luck, mate?" Bill asked.
"All three of them are gone," he pouted.
"Come on, let's get you laid. We're doing a special. Group discount."
When we collected what we needed, half-carrying Dree in tow, we slipped
back upstairs and into the bedroom. Our three girls were in a pile on
the huge bed, none of them with a stitch of clothes on, though they were
still all wearing their heels. My eyebrow started to twitch.
"Poor Dree's sisters bugged out on him," Sam mocked. He shoved the
dejected lad towards the bed, and immediately the three girls crowded
him with affection.
"You just wait right there, pretty boy," Sally said with cheer. "No
cousin of mine is going to be left wanting." She pulled on the nearest
clothes item she could find, which happened to be my sister's dress. Her
breasts tried to bulge out the sides, but it was loose around the hips.
In all, I thought she looked ravishing in it. Next to her, my naked
sister gave me a little wave.
Sally was gone and back in seconds. "May I introduce Cindy," she pulled
in a beautiful blond wearing a square-lined green dress, "and Sara?"
What was left of our jaws hit the floor. Sara had white silk
criss-crossing her breasts, a little out of character for the simple
dance, but no one was about to complain. Me, least of all.
"They're not his sisters, either," Sam jeered.
"They're mine," Sally interjected, "and they're his cousins, too, since his sisters went and dumped him."
Enough chatter. I got up to introduce myself to the twins, one of whom
grabbed me and kissed me. The two of us never made it to the bed. Sally
and Cindy did, but they made short work of Dree between the two of them.
My dear sister seemed happy with Bill for the moment, and Sam was left
with Sadie.
"I thought you didn't partake," I said to Sara after making her come on
my cock for the fifth time. She was dry and she wasn't a moaner, but
that didn't mean she wasn't any good. Hell, she was very good. Color me
surprised.
"Just because I don't get drunk at parties and do it with whomever like
some people," she jabbed, but I honestly don't know at whom. Every one
of us was guilty except her twin sister, who was getting a taste of
Dree's talents while Sally urged him on.
Bill finished with my sister, who moved on to Sam. Sadie didn't want to
share, so she came to me, kicking Sara away. "Call me," Sara said on her
way out.
We went a few rounds; we had plenty of time. We all watched Sadie with
Bill, which was every bit the riot we expected. Sadie, being Sadie,
hates not having everyone's attention. Sally seemed to own the room that
night, which gave Sadie something to reach for, and she reached for it
by bouncing on top of her brother like a madwoman.
Sally gave Sam a turn, but just once, and the twins wouldn't touch him
at all, also being his sisters. Everyone wanted to see me and Becky take
a turn, but I shoved her at Sadie, since I'd had a hankering for the
sight all night. Once they were done, Becky laid down on the floor with
me. Everyone else stopped what they were doing to watch.
"Another day, okay?" she whispered to me. "I'm not gonna make you my
third or fourth for a night; I want it to be special. Is that alright?"
"Sure, baby," I whispered back. Then to our audience, I gave a little
shake of my head. They all sighed their sorrow, but they were distracted
with trying to get the three sisters together. It didn't work, but Sara
and Cindy made a sandwich out of Sadie, and Sally let Bill and Dree
both take care of her at once. I was about done for the night, but
Becky, being gracious, went to give Sam more service since she was half
the population that would give him any access that night.
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