A teenage boy's normal struggles with growing up are complicated by his porn brain and pantie fetish, or at least that's what he thinks. There might be more to the story.
I'd like to extend my greatest appreciation to those who read this and give feedback or at least make a comment. To the trolls who open this just to click thumbs down, seriously are you that pitiful?
If you make it to the end of this chapter, get your ass to the comments section and give me feedback. Remember, this is a learn as I go hobby. I have no fuckin' idea what I'm doing.
Read and enjoy, that's why I do this.
Evan looked at his mother's text again, "Went to airport. Go do any work you have to do. Everything is going to be all right. I love you." Electronic communication without emojis was void of emotion and often misinterpreted. Evan tried to picture his mother typing the message. Had his father been standing there, forcing her to hide her feelings between the lines? No, Evan imagined his mother hiding in the bathroom, crying while her thumbs dashed across the letters. His father might walk in and read it, so she had to hold back what she really wanted to say. Was everything going to be all right because his father would be in China, or did she plan on handling his father again? That hadn't turned out well, and Evan had no intention of ever letting it happen again.
His black eye was a dull ache that he hardly noticed. His crushed pride hurt like a broken arm that would end his racing career before it happened. Sadness and anger competed for control of Evan's mind and emotions. He hadn't taken a swing. He hadn't even tried to get out from in front of his father's fist. Had the sight of his mother's tits stunned him or hadn't he expected his father to punch him? Of course, he should have.
Evan knew eventually he would have to tell Deana how he fucked up their mother's new found happiness, but he would postpone that as long as possible. He left the house right after his parents, too early to do anything except drive around and spin his thought like a spider's web of shoulda, coulda and wouldas. In his mind, he walked through the scene over and over, each time the outcome more favorable for his side. Yes, he fought back, gave it to his father in words and fists, then he pulled Candy's shirt closed over her chest, wiped away her tears, hugged her and kissed her while his father lay unconscious on the floor.
When Evan reached Ms. Style's house, he saw no point in announcing himself because she knew he was coming. Nobody had seen him since his father decked him, and if it were possible, Evan would keep it that way until the evidence was gone. He didn't want Deana, Gloria or Candy to see the purple-black sign of weakness painted on his face. More than that, Evan was afraid to see his mother's neck. Had his father punched her, too? He couldn't stop picturing her in a giant pair of sunglasses and a scarf tied around her neck.
Evan went straight to the old barn that doubled as Ms. Style's garage. He had decided to handle the lawn first. That would give him an opportunity to step on an imaginary rake before he saw anyone. Unfortunately, unlike in the cartoons, a shiner wasn't instantaneous, but it would be plausible later when he saw his sisters. Also, if he were extra toasty after the yard work, he could accidentally fall in the pool while cleaning it.
Before Evan opened the side door of the garage, he heard a splash. Ms. Style must know I'm here, he thought, so that meant she wanted him to see her in a bathing suit. Or, if she was a freak like Miss Tonya, she might be naked.
The plunk, plunk, plunk sound of a steady kick increased with each of Evan's long, hurried strides. The rhythmic sounds were interrupted by a slosh and water droplets splattering. He paused for a moment. When the plunking and splashing resumed, Evan imagined the woman had gone under, reversed directions, thrust off the wall and glided like a torpedo below the surface. He ascended the grass slope, approaching the green, Cosmopolitan style three-rail aluminum fencing. The height was designed to keep kids out. Evan lifted his right foot over, grabbed the top rail and kicked his left leg. His body rotated in the air. His sneakers met the concrete that framed the pool without announcing him. All he could see was the stroking arms and the uplift of water the kicking feet caused.
After scanning the large backyard, he quickly crossed the eight feet of patio and looked down into the pool. It wasn't Ms. Style. If there had been any logical context to support what Evan saw, he would have recognized the wake creating ass, but seeing a naked person in the communion line would have made more sense than seeing Darlene in Ms. Style's pool. It was like seeing Mrs. Henderson, the cafeteria lady, out of her uniform, at Walmart. He would sense he knew her, but wouldn't be able to say how or from where.
The powerful body doing laps like a seasoned swimmer activated his pleasure sensors, but the red ponytail slapping side-to-side triggered his mental search engine. One lap, two laps, two and a half—Evan's brain gridlocked. What the fuck is she doing here?
Darlene stopped swimming and rolled over in the water. Her tits briefly broke the surface, then the redhead went under. Her bathing suit was a pale flesh tone that matched her skin, making her appeared naked. He gulped when she propelled herself with frog-like leg thrusts. He waited without making a sound.
The water stirred and Darlene's hands wrapped around the shiny chrome ladder. Evan took a deep breath as she pulled herself up. Her head was tilted back, and her eyes were closed. Water and white flesh spilled from the bottom of her bikini top. The small triangles were stretched thin under the weight, revealing the deep red rings of her nipples. He watched their centers plump, then bulge.
Darlene pressed her hands against the bridge of her nose and squeegeed her face. Evan looked into that spellbinding spot between Darlene's hips. The strings that looped over the rounded knobs of her hip bones were practically lost in the V-shaped grooves carved into her groin. The rest of the bikini bottoms were too small to cover the girl's bush, if she had one.
Evan saw a moment of surprise when Darlene opened her eyes; then her face went back to the one he was used to. The one that said she didn't know he was there. Without speaking, Darlene dug into her top and hoisted, juggled and stuffed as much tit as she could into the bikini. As far as he was concerned, all she did was take what overflowed at the bottom and made more spill out into her cleavage. He imagined her biceps would bump what pushed out to her sides when her arms swung. Her nipples were still growing.
Darlene said, "Evan, hi," but her tone suggested she was annoyed that he was there.
He might have responded with an unintelligible sound, but it didn't matter because Darlene turned away from him and started walking. The strings holding her top in place cut into her sides. He wanted to untie the bow at her spine and watch her gorgeous melons drop, bounce and roll outward.
The back of her bathing suit was a meaningless patch at the cusp of her ass cleavage; her cheeks were fully exposed. Darlene was barefoot, but her legs and ass moved like she was wearing four-inch heels. He watched the sway, the rise and fall, and the jiggle. It was an erotic GIF.
Darlene reached the lounge chair with a towel on it and bent at the waist with her feet close together. She paused longer than necessary to pick up the towel. Her thighs touched all the way up to the gap at the top of her legs where a textbook, porn pussy threatened to burst out of her swim suit. Evan had been imagining what the redhead looked like without clothes for a long time, now he pretty much knew. It wasn't a huge, traumatic let down like finally seeing Candy's tits had been.
While drying her face, Darlene straightened up and turned around. "Were you staring at my ass?" she asked and flipped the towel over her shoulders like a cape, but didn't pull it around her chest. The red areolas were cresting, shoving their hard centers out against the bikini top.
Evan licked his lips and his first unfiltered thought spilled out, "Who wouldn't?”
Darlene almost smiled and started toward him. He tried to swallow, but the walls of his throat stuck together. He had no reason to be nervous, but he was. When she was closer than she needed to be, the redhead looked up at him and said, “At least you're honest.”
Evan's thoughts scrambled around the sense of déjà vu he had. Hadn't he already been close enough to Darlene to noticed how blue her eyes were, and minus some freckles, how familiar her face? “What are you doing here?” he asked.
Darlene said, "Swimming," and started to walk away without saying anymore, just like at school.
He heard another voice coming from behind him, "Darlene, remember what we talked about."
His head snapped around. Ms. Style was coming up the stone path toward the gate, glaring at Darlene. She was fully dressed in what looked like business attire; unfortunately, not a bikini. He turned his head back, and Darlene was directly in front of him. She said, "I'm sorry," her chest bumped him, "it's not your fault. I shouldn't act that way."
The kiss was so unexpected that Darlene's mouth was moving away from his before Evan realized how good her lips felt. He wanted a do over, but she left without adding another word. Ms. Style smiled and ran her hand across Darlene's stomach when they passed each other. Evan watched the redhead's ass until she reached the door and disappeared into the shadows of the screen porch.
"You know Darlene?"
"I certainly hope so," Ms. Style said. "If I didn't, a strange girl was swimming in my pool and just went in my house."
It annoyed him even though a sarcastic response was what his stupid question deserved. "How?"
Evan waited for more, then asked, “What did she mean, it's not my fault?”
"That's not important now," Ms. Style said. "Would you do me a favor?" Evan's mouth opened, then closed when he realized it was a rhetorical question like the ones his mother asked him. "Give Darlene a ride home. I have to run.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a Ben Franklin.
"Thank you, of course, no problem, as soon as I'm done here."
Ms. Style's hands slid up his forearms and squeezed. "Thank you, you're a sweetheart. Sorry I won't be here to watch you work, but I know you'll do a great job. Thanks for taking care of Darlene. Have fun."
Evan was afraid his brain wasn't capable of saying anything intelligent, so he just nodded and watched the woman leave. There was something about Style that excited him, but it wasn't anything he could put his finger on.
Deana was awake enough to know it was a knee touching her stomach. Waking up with Rebecca's body touching hers was going to be a hard habit to break when school started again. They'd have to go back to the occasional weekend sleepovers. Deana didn't open her eyes. She wanted to prolong the lazy, hazy period between fantasy and reality and make sure Rebecca woke up in the same mood she was in. She smiled and laid her hand on the thigh that was attached to that knee.
The tips of Deana's fingers glided up the warm skin. Her sleepy mind anticipated fondling that ass. Her hand moved under Rebecca's night shirt, bumped through the fleshy groove and climbed the hill, then came to rest on a round cushion of ass cheek. Deana's heart sped up. The full, round globe overflowed her hand; her fingers wedged in the gap between the two halves. It was hard to believe she could identify Rebecca's butt by touch.
Deana squinted, peeking through strands of black hair, but she didn't need visual confirmation to know that it wasn't Rebecca she was touching. No wonder Evan was always handling Gloria's butt.
Gloria was sprawled face down like someone who had fallen from a building, legs and arms bent at crazy angles. Her head wasn't on the pillow; it was stuffed under it. The knee in Deana's stomach was connected to Gloria's left leg, which jutted out at a forty-five-degree angle from her body. It was one thing to appreciate another girl's well-defined ass, but touching it shouldn't make her warm between her legs. Did her body's response confirm her fear?
Deana reluctantly moved her hand away from the ass that felt as good as it looked. A bit of envy stirred in her heart. "Wake up," she whispered and lifted the pillow off her sister's head. "Wake up, bedbug."
“Aw.” Gloria's head turned, and her eyes fluttered. "Oh, Dee." Her legs pushed straight out and her body arched in a long stretch. “Mmm.”
“Why are you in my bed?” Deana asked.
Gloria did half a push-up, fell to her side and did a few full body shimmies to finish turning over. “You mad?”
“Nah.” Deana stuffed the pillow under Gloria's head and asked the question even though she knew the answer, "Did you have a dream?" She turned on her side and faced Gloria.
Gloria's face scrunched with concentration. "Mm-hmm."
Deana knew she was Gloria's second choice, and that didn't bother her because she knew about the dreams. "Why didn't you go upstairs?"
"Something happened to Evan, in my dream, might have been a fight, but he's not home." Gloria fidgeted and moved closer to Deana. "Dee, what's a meddler?" she asked. "Is it a bad thing?"
Deana took a deep breath, put her arm over Gloria's stomach and summoned the courage required to play the role of big sister. "Meddler, that depends," she said. "Who said it?"
"Never mind." Gloria looked away. "I, ah, I know."
"Gloria, we don't have secrets, sister's tell all,” she lied.
Gloria shivered and hugged her chest. "Daah, Dad—"
Deana's question was out before she could stop it, "Did he hurt you?"
"No, no.” Gloria's head shook repeatedly. "He was in a bad, really bad mood. He said mean things, that's all."
"Good.” Wasn't it ridiculous to be grateful that their father had only said mean things? “What did he say?"
"Dee, I'm scared. What if he makes me leave? What if he sends me and Mom back to the trailer park? He said that."
Deana refused to cry. "He'd never do that, but if he did, he'd be all alone, because I'm going with you, Evan too."
"He's mad at her and me," Gloria said. "He said I'm a meddler just like Mom. What did he mean? Did Mom do something?"
"What else did he say?"
Gloria rolled towards her. They were face to face. "Why was he so mad at Mom?"
"Listen to me," Deana said, "don't worry about that. He's talking stupid. You're not any of those things. Neither is Mom. She saved us from him. Saved me and Evan. If it weren't for her, we would have been alone, stuck alone with him. Nobody to love us and protect us. She saved us." The tears had their way, and Deana hated her father for making her cry, again. "Mom isn't a meddler. She's a hero. I'm sorry you had to get dragged into this with us."
Gloria used the sheet to dry Deana's tears and said, "I'm not sorry. I love you. We're a team."
Their hug was powerful, both girls trembling, neither willing to tell the whole truth. Gloria burrowed her face in the crook of Deana's neck, and their legs tangled together.
"Does kissing Rebecca feel good, um, make you feel good?”
Deana squinted her eye. “What makes you think I kiss her?”
"Um, I guessed.”
“You been spying again?” Deana asked.
Gloria rolled on her back and stared at the ceiling. “Not really, I notice things and I—”
“You notice them because you're looking where you shouldn't be looking. Now admit it, you were spying.”
“Dee, I swear, I wasn't spying. I might have forgotten to knock and might have seen something, but it wasn't actually spying. I learned my lesson last time.”
“Did you close my door right away, or did you keep watching? If you kept watching, then that's spying.”
Gloria said, “I think you're trying to not answer my question.”
“Is that so,” Deana said.
Gloria smiled triumphantly. “It's so!”
“How much did you see?” Deana asked.
“Enough to know you been kissing a bunch. ”
“You snoop-a-doodle, one of these days you're gonna see something you wish you hadn't seen.”
“Maybe I already did, but answer my question already.”
"Yup, it does, kissing Rebecca makes me feel good. Why, you wanna kiss her too? She's totally into you. Said you got a better ass than me.” Deana took her turn wearing the victory face. Her little sister would learn to mind her business one way or another.
Gloria flipped on top of her. "Really? Will you be jealous if I do?"
Deana stared at Gloria's face, searching for a hint of sarcasm. All she found was those blue eyes and a face that looked just like she remembered their babysitter's face, before—
“Are you, um, are you in love with Rebecca?” Gloria asked.
Deana sighed and put her hands on Gloria's butt. “Do you go up to Evan's room like this...without underwear?” She honked the shapely ass playfully, but it still stirred something in the pleasure zone where her orgasms started.
“Please don't treat me like a kid, Dee, please. I'm not. You know that, don't you?”
Deana wished she didn't know, but she nodded. “I'm sorry, I'll try and remember.” Her face flushed as the words came to her lips, "Yes, I love her. We love each other." Had she just told her sister that she was a lesbian?
“Aren't you scared?” Gloria asked.
Deana nodded again and brushed Gloria's hair off her face. “You think I'm bad?”
Gloria shook her head with tears building at the rims of her eyes. “I done it, I done it, too, but I'm not in love. I did it because it felt good. Does that make it, make me bad?”
Deana wrapped her arms around her sister. She could feel Gloria's heart thumping through their crushed breasts. “Gloria, there isn't anything bad about you. I love you.”
“Thank you. I love you more, a thousand times more than anybody.”
“Don't tell your mother that.”
“I love her too, but it's different, a different kinda love. You know?”
“I know, I know,” she said. It was that mutual suffering that made their bond of love so strong. They both knew the other's secret, but neither would say it out loud.
Darlene had been in the house the whole time Evan worked, then, like she had been watching him, she came out ready to leave as soon as he was done. She gave him the impression she'd rather walk. The first ten minutes of the drive was spent in a painful silence. He glanced her way often. Darlene's presence was tangible, and it drew him in, even if he didn't want to be drawn. All but three inches of her pale thighs stuck out of her denim, mini-skirt. Her knees were raised, swaying side-to-side, taunting him, but it was her profile that kept his attention. The redhead who had been called carrot top, and worse, had a pretty face.
The rural two-lane road they were on didn't have any subdivisions, just plenty of large plots of land, farms, broken down shacks, rusty trailers, and an occasional fruit stand. Evan had no idea where they were going, so he broke the silence, “When do I turn?”
"Look for Sunny Haven, on the left," Darlene said. "There's a big sign. You can't miss it."
“Okay.” He wanted to kiss those lips again. “What did you mean, it's not my fault?”
"Nothing,” Darlene said.
He took his eyes off the road and gave her a hard, searching look.
"We don't have time for that now," she said and continued to stare straight ahead.
"We have a few minutes,” he said, “and there's always tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Darlene pushed her feet against the floorboard, lifted her butt and tugged on her skirt. "Tomorrow, there's no tomorrow. We'll be strangers again tomorrow."
"What? I'm not like that, not that kind of person."
"No, but you're not from the same world as me. You hang out with your people, and I hang with mine."
"Wait a minute." He reached for her. "You don't give me much credit. I'm not a dick or a stuck up cheerleader. That's not the best example, but you know what I mean."
"That would be crazy, though, and sexy. One of my fantasies.”
"Nice change of subject," Evan said, his anger building. “My sister tries that, too.”
Darlene said, “Deana, how is she, and that little wildcat friend of hers?”
“Wildcat, you mean Rebecca?”
Evan had no intention of dropping the subject, but he was intrigued by what he thought was more Darlene's deion of Rebecca than a nickname. “Why do you call her that?”
Darlene's expression suggested she was surprised he didn't know. “I'm sure you'll figure it out, eventually.”
“Oh,” he said. “Listen, about that other thing.”
"I didn't mean a guy in a cheerleader's clothes." Some of the stiffness seemed to go out of Darlene. She turned her body towards him. "I meant a girl with a dick. You ever seen a shemale?"
Evan considered how serious she sounded. "I have the Internet."
"I had this dream,” she said. “It was so real that it was more like a vision. Since then, the idea of a sexy woman with a cock turns me on. I fantasize about it. Big breasts and a sexy round ass, plus a dick. What would you do if we were dating and you thought we were going to do it, but you found out I had a big cock?"
"You been with many women?" he asked.
"Nice try,” she said. “Answer my question."
He didn't look at her when he answered. "If you were actually you, and I was going with you, I'd probably faint."
"That's a cop out. Here's what I think you'd do. You would turn me around and fuck me in the ass while you jerked me off."
Evan realized the fuckin' redhead was one of the girls from the internet that he fantasized about. In his fantasies, though, he never felt like he was in over his head. Darlene was all he'd heard, imagined and more. He blew out a hard breath, hoping she'd talk about anything else.
“That sounded crude, I guess. Sorry, sometimes I let out thoughts that are better kept to myself. You think I'm a slut?"
She caught him off guard, again. "No." His stomach twisted. "I think you're honest and matter-of-fact." Special was the word that Evan almost said. “Nothing wrong with that.”
"That's nice, thank you. Your mom raised you to be one of the nice people."
"Stepmom, you know she's my stepmother, right?”
"A stepmother is still your mother. She must be special.”
Evan saw the sign for Sunny Haven. It was large, but unimpressive. He made a left into the trailer park, thinking about Darlene's words and how their conversation had made another drastic turn. It was weird how she used the word he had been thinking. What did she mean by special? “She is.”
“Over there.” Darlene pointed at a tan and white double-wide trailer. The wooden steps up to the door looked like they had collapsed and been thrown back together without nails.
He stopped the car. "Okay, thanks for the ride. See ya," Darlene said like a stranger he had picked up hitchhiking.
Evan felt rejected. "Hold on, wait up," he said and jumped out of the car.
Darlene stopped at the foot of the precarious steps. "Don't you have something you need to do?"
Evan stepped closer, challenging. "Why the cold shoulder all of a sudden?" She told me her most bizarre sexual fantasy, he thought and added, "Not even a kiss goodbye?"
She glanced in the direction of the door, then looked down at the dirt. “Evan, I didn't lose a glass slipper, and you're not gonna take me back to the castle. You see how it is. Don't make it hard. It's not like I can invite you in or you're going to call me. It'll never work." She started turning away.
Now he was angry. "Wait." He yanked her towards him. "I told you I'm not like that." He pulled her mouth to his. Darlene responded with aggression. To Evan, it didn't feel like their second kiss; it was familiar and passionate. He squeezed her face between his hands and stared into her eyes, looking for a sign. "What is it about you?"
"It's my aura,” Darlene said. “It makes guys want to fuck me." She pushed away. "As much as I'd like to get fucked right here on my porch, it can't work. Go back to your world."
Darlene was inside before Evan spoke, "No, it makes me want to love you." His words were only heard by the mud stained front door. He never thought having a lot of money could be a disadvantage.
Darlene stood with her back against the door until she heard Evan's car drive away. Like she could really let him love her, even if he wasn't her cousin by marriage. The boy had no clue what kind of girl she was. Darlene walked towards the woman on the couch and said, "I'm home.” When there was no response, she added, “Did you notice I was gone?" She'd notice if the assistance checks stopped coming, Darlene thought and continued down the narrow hallway into her room. The door shook the flimsy wall when she slammed it. "Fuck, how the fuck!"
Style was right, it wasn't Evan's fault. He didn't even know. Who was she really mad at, her mother or herself? Darlene wasn't even sure that Candy was her aunt. Although, with a body like hers, it wouldn't be hard to believe they were related. If she was Aunt Candy, why didn't she stay in touch, invite her over and act like her aunt? It had something to do with her husband, but what?
Darlene turned in a circle, searching her paneled room for something, anything that could make her feel better. Being bad was her medicine, and she needed a huge dose, a Boy George dose of bad medicine. The bed hit the wall when she threw herself on it. She pulled her journal out from under the pillow and sat Indian Style. There was a pair of shiny scissors inside the cover. The cool steel warmed quickly on her inner thigh. Could she cause enough pain to distract her from reality? The point stung.
When Evan drove away from the Sunny Haven trailer park, he was wondering what kind of psychological, mystery drama he had stumbled into. That morning, Darlene's name wouldn't have caused a twitch on his emotional meter. She was just some girl he used to know in school. Evan had forgotten about her red, enhanced looking lips, the body that was on par with his mother's, and the redhead's high step, ass shaking walk. He had moved on to girls and women he could actually have sex with, and ones who he could talk to and fall in love with. He had released Darlene to Jason's fantasy world, where Jason probably had threesomes with her and Becky. How quickly things changed in Evan's life.
The fuckin' redhead was an enigma, and she still rejected him, but she had become a challenge again. He wanted to understand her. He needed to strip off the layers of peculiarity and find out who Darlene really was and how she knew Ms. Style. Although, Evan might have needed something to conquer so he wouldn't have to pursue the two lovers who would break his heart in the end.
A droplet of blood filled the indention the point made in Darlene's skin. She thought back to when she was young and first discovering ways to escape. Masturbation had been her first avenue. It was as if she had been born sexual; she couldn't remember being taught or experimenting, she already knew where to touch herself at a young age. It felt good, so she did it, but her friends thought it was wrong. Their parents told them it was bad. If adults saw it as deviant behavior, it worked for Darlene; being bad was good. She loved the reaction she got when someone caught her touching herself, or worse.
Darlene could remember the day as if it had just happened, but she couldn't remember whose birthday party she had been at. It certainly wasn't hers; foster kids didn't have clowns at their parties. It was the clown who gave her the balloon. The second it was in her hands, rubbing against her skin, the thought came to her. She pressed the long balloon against the front of her body, between her budding breasts. Her nipples swelled, and the evil thought festered in her dirty little mind. Casually, Darlene slipped the uninflated tip of the balloon between her lips. She sucked some air into it and flicked it with her tongue. She was excited and squirmed like a kid with ants in their pants.
When the birthday girl started opening her presents, Darlene snuck out of the room and ducked into a bedroom. It was the first birthday party anyone had invited her to, and she saw how wrong her life was. She'd never had a party for any of her birthdays and didn't remember ever getting a present she liked. She needed a shot of emotional Novocain.
Darlene wanted to get naked, but she only pulled her pants down to her ankles and rubbed the head of the balloon on her crotch. She didn't expect anything so fat to go inside her body, but she pushed it anyway. The balloon flattened and bent. Darlene used her fingertip to tuck the uninflated rubber tip between her tingling lips; then she slid it up and down. The limp tip glistened with her excitement. She fingered two inches of the floppy end inside her narrow opening, then gently pumped the long, phallic clown prop into the pink groove. Desire and need turned to frustration. She squeezed with both hands.
"Ohhhh, God," she cried out. Her tight sphincter stayed closed on the rubber, but air rushed through and inflated the top of the balloon inside her tube. Her lubricating juices flowed. She took a deep breath, twisted and wiggled more of the clown cock into her body, then she spread her hands out and flattened the balloon against the mattress. Darlene bit her tongue to keep from screaming. Her tiny pussy stretched and opened deeper for the expanding tube. She went crazy, ramming more inside and squeezing whatever didn't fit. The lubricated rubber swelled and made her pussy tunnel open wide. Now she knew what getting fucked was going to feel like, and she couldn't wait.
The balloon finally popped and triggered the most incredible orgasm Darlene had ever had. She looked down and saw a burst of fluid squirting out of her pussy. She held herself open, thrashed her clit and sprayed the bed again. Eventually, Darlene called that making her honey squirt, but that day she thought she had pissed.
It was a shame playing with herself didn't work anymore. Darlene lifted the scissors, prepared to stab her leg.
The redhead induced amnesia didn't last long enough. Ten minutes after Evan left Darlene's, his brain had returned to his mother's face, the red ring around her neck and his failure to protect her. His eye started hurting again.
Evan's phone rang and Jason's name flashed on the display. Talking to his friend was as good an excuse as any to delay going home. He pulled off in a strip mall parking lot and stopped in the only shady spot. "Hello."
"Hey, Dude, what are you doing?" Jason asked.
"I was driving back from Ms. Style's house. Now I'm stopped in the parking lot by Wendy's, talking to you."
"Well, did you ask her about us skinny dipping?"
Evan shook his head. "Jeez, no, I told you I wasn't going there with her.”
“Was she even there this time?”
“Ah, yeah,” he said, thinking about Darlene. “Yeah, but only for a minute. She had someplace she had to go. Paid me and took off.”
“Bummer,” Jason said. “What time we leaving tomorrow?”
"I'm grounded. My father wasn't cool with me racing. He was pissed."
"What'dah ya mean you're grounded? No way! I told you not to tell him. It's always better to do it and say you're sorry later. We got those girls and you gotta race. You can't be grounded."
Evan put the phone back to his ear once Jason stopped ranting. "I'm grounded!"
"Race, racing, what about racing? You gonna blow off the one thing you're good at just because your dad was mad?"
"I bet—” He was about to say I bet Becky thinks I'm good at more than one thing. Then he thought about Miss Tonya and Jayda and realized he couldn't boast about any of the girls he'd had sex with, and now he wasn't going to tell Jason about Darlene, either. “Calm, down," he said.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. The thing is, you cannot be grounded. This is supposed to be the best summer of our lives. We got two horny girls who will do anything. Think foursome, one better than threesome."
"Jason, I'm not interested in KK, besides, my father punched me in the face. He's pissed like I've never seen him pissed."
"He actually punched you!" Jason said. "Your head didn't come off?"
"It felt like a car ran me over when I woke up this morning. Still hurts. I got a black eye."
"He punched you, wow. What happened?"
"What do you think happened, I went flying and crashed onto the floor."
"Yeah, I figured that, but I mean did you talk back or argue first?"
"Um." His mother's torn blouse, breasts and the look of terror on her face flashed through his mind. "No. Maybe he was drinking, I don't know, but he's never punched me, not like that, not in the face. He told me if I wanted to race, I'd have to support myself."
"You want me to ask my mom if you can stay here? Becky would love it."
"No, no, not yet anyway. Listen, you can't tell anyone, not even Becky. I don't want my sister worrying about it."
"What about your mom, does she know? What did she say?"
"No, she wasn't there. She doesn't know. I guess she might know now if he told her, but I'll talk to her later.”
"That's good," Jason said. "You don't want to get her in the middle. Punched you, wow, and you lived, amazing."
"Yeah, thanks. I gotta go."
"Grounded, but you're going to race—"
"I'm allowed to work and go out if my mother tells me to, that's all."
"Isn't your dad leaving for China? If he's halfway around the world, how could he find out?"
Evan huffed. "I gotta go."
"Fine," Jason said.
Instead of ramming the steel into her leg, Darlene opened her journal. It was sad that she hadn't started writing stuff sooner. Seeing it on paper was better than in her mind. She started flipping through the notebook, looking for the day that changed her life.
Darlene had been thumbing for a ride that day after shoplifting at the mall. Hitchhiking and shoplifting were dangerous thrills, and even though she thought of being raped or killed, it didn't deter her. She had expected the short skirt and tight T-shirt to attract some horny guy in a pickup truck, but it was a white Acura CL that pulled over. It was too good to be true, it was a woman. When the window didn't come down, Darlene opened the door, leaned in and said, "Hi."
The lady in the car said, "Hello," and cleared the seat. "Hop in."
Darlene got in and closed the door, then took a good look at the driver. Her blouse was opened far enough to expose a large portion of her left tit. It was white, too white for someone with jet black hair. "I'm Darlene."
"Yes, you are." The woman extended her hand. "Very nice to meet you, Darlene," she said in a voice that dripped with honey. "I'm Style, Style Pioneer."
Does she know me, Darlene wondered and shook the woman's hand. It was strong and held on too long for a hello handshake. "Nice to meet you, too." Style Pioneer's eyes were hazel with a blue ring around the iris, like a snake's eyes.
Style said, "You have the most beautiful eyes."
Darlene realized her hand was now hanging in midair between them. "Thank you." She took a deep breath, then released it along with all of the relief she had felt about being picked up by a woman. She knew how to handle horny guys, but this Style Pioneer made her nervous. Darlene thought she could feel her, if that was possible without touching.
The woman asked, "Where you going?" but the car was already moving to the entrance ramp for the interstate.
Darlene said, “Sunny Haven—”
"Really? Today is your lucky day," Style said. "I live out that way. Have to go right past it."
They talked for twenty minutes. Style was friendly and had a girlish smile. She won Darlene's trust even though she rarely trusted adults. When the woman asked if she wanted to see her new house, Darlene ignored the hairs tingling on the back of her neck and agreed.
When the car turned and started down the long driveway, Darlene thought, this is how psycho killer movies start. What choice did she have now?
"Welcome to my castle," Ms. Style said.
Darlene got out of the car and turned in a circle. The house was huge and had a presence like the woman who owned it. Something was jingling. Darlene turned and saw a giant black dog coming towards her. She looked over the car with questioning eyes. The goth looking woman smiled and said, "Don't worry, Sweetheart, he's friendly."
The massive dog stared up at her. Darlene cautiously held out her hand. The dog ignored it and shoved his snout between her legs and sniffed. Instead of preventing what she knew was coming next, Darlene shivered as the tongue shot out and dragged across her crotch. Too bad she was wearing panties.
"Brutus," Ms. Style said and pulled him back. "I'm sorry."
Darlene felt something twisting deep inside her body. Her cheeks flushed, and she realized she was leaning against the car. If her new friend wasn't there, she would have yanked her underwear off and spread her legs. “It's okay,” she said, “he's just being a dog.”
“I know, but that's not the first impression I wanted you to have of my house.”
The crappy old mattress creaked and jerked Darlene out of her reminiscing. She was disappointed to find herself in the trailer where she lived, not at Ms. Style's where she always wanted to be.
Evan wasn't sure why he didn't tell Jason about Darlene, but after they were off the phone, he told himself it wasn't important compared to being grounded. The truth was, Evan didn't want to share Darlene with Jason. She had been his challenge before Becky started bringing Darlene over to Jason's house.
He had to go home now and talk to his mother, but he was driving grandmother slow. He was afraid to face her, afraid to look into her eyes; the eyes that had shown terror. Would there still be red marks on her neck?
Evan's thoughts went back to imagining what his father might have put Candy through, then he mentally shifted gears to Deana. She would ask questions, and he would lie. Wouldn't she know he wasn't being honest? Deana would be upset, maybe mad at him for causing their mother pain. Man up he told himself, and pressed the accelerator to the floor, just making it through the yellow light.
Evan felt relieved when he didn't see his mother's car in the driveway. That feeling was immediately followed by shame. It was bad enough he got her involved and couldn't protect her, now he didn't have the balls to talk to her.
When he got in the house, he went to Gloria's room and asked, "You drawing more porn?"
"What is it then?"
Gloria turned around on her chair, and her eyes widened. "I knew something happened to you."
"Dahah, your eye, in my dream something happened, a fight or something."
"You and your dreams," he said. "It was a big bad rake I was fighting with. I stepped on it and pow, right in the eye."
"Oh? Are you disappointed I didn't get beat up?"
"No, you didn't, you kick some ass in my dream. See." She picked up the pad and shoved it in his face.
Evan took a step backward so he could take in the whole drawing. The degree of detail was astonishing. The shirtless medieval warrior was pointing a club at the sky. Every muscle on his body rippled, and his foot was on the neck of an incapacitated giant. Evan swallowed hard, wishing he had lived up to his sister's expectation. “Seriously,” he said and pointed at the long ridge up the front of the caricature's shorts.
Gloria's shrug and head flip said, yes, seriously, so he moved on. “Where's mom?”
"Her and Miss Tonya are up to something," Gloria said.
"Up to something? What does that mean?"
"You know, doing whatever adults do when they don't want kids around."
Evan thought for a long time before asking, "How do you know?"
"She dropped me off and went to Miss Tonya's house. Jayda is at Alex's."
"Oh," he said. "Deana?"
"Ooh, so we're finally alone," he said flippantly.
Gloria stood on his feet, threw her arms around his neck, and pulled herself up until the tip of her nose touched his. What Evan saw stunned him. He grabbed his sister's butt and lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist. Her interwoven fingers were holding the back of his neck, and she leaned back as far as her arms allowed. He continued to stare. Now he knew why Darlene's blue eyes had seemed so familiar. It was scary to think his sister reminded him of the redhead.
"What should we do?” Gloria asked, her face moving toward his.
Evan wanted to hold his mother, and Gloria would make an excellent proxy, but he didn't know what would happen if she started kissing him. He might curl up with his sister on the bed and cry, thinking about Candy; or his love for Gloria and his lust for Darlene might merge. Were all of his needs, desires, and emotional connections becoming one sticky glob? "I don't know what you're gonna be doing,” Evan said, “but I'm going to take a shower." He extracted himself from Gloria's clinging arms and legs and pretended she hadn't offered to wash his back.
Deana and Rebecca were wearing identical yoga pants when they walked into Rebecca's kitchen. Deana sat at the table. Rebecca collected Deana's hair and dropped it over the back of the chair, exposing Deana's neck. She kissed it below Deana's ear, then put her hands on her shoulders. "Everything okay?"
Deana tilted her head back and made eye contact. "Yeah, why?"
Rebecca said, "I don't know, you seem a little glum," and started massaging Deana's neck.
“Mmm.” She lowered her chin to her chest. "This morning I was thinking about how much I'm gonna miss this when we go back to school."
Rebecca's fingernails gently raked across the top of Deana's chest. "Vacation just started. Don't spoil it by thinking."
Deana smiled and watched Rebecca's hands inching toward her breasts. Her nipples started to tingle. Rebecca cupped her tits and lifted them. “They seem bigger.”
"Is that bad?" Deana asked and put her hands on top of Rebecca's and helped feel herself up.
"No, I was just making an observation, that's all."
Deana took a deep breath and said, "Gloria knows about us."
Rebecca stuck her face in front of Deana's. "You told her?"
Deana shook her head. "She saw us."
Rebecca lifted her foot over Deana's body, straddled her, then sat on her lap, facing her. "How and how much?"
She shrugged. "Not sure. Enough to know we like kissing. Maybe more, she's sneaky."
"Will she tell?"
"Not a chance."
Rebecca leaned back and put her elbows on the table. "How can you be sure?"
Deana sighed, wishing she didn't know. "She's great at keeping secrets...like me."
"Okay, so why do you look concerned?"
"Um, she wants to kiss you."
"What!" Rebecca said. "She told you that?"
"Sort of," Deana said. "I was joking to throw her off, not thinking, and I might have said you were into her. She took it the wrong way."
Rebecca was speechless for a few seconds, then she said, "You told your sister I was checking her out?"
"No, but were you?"
"Not like that, but it's hard not to notice her, kinda like your mom, she's hot too."
"Well, Reb, they both think you're hot."
"I swear, I got goosebumps thinking about—"
"Stop thinking," Deana said.
Rebecca looped Deana's hair behind her ear's and tilted her face up. "Are you worried about Gloria knowing or what she thinks?"
She wrapped her hands around the tumbler's throat and said, "She likes kissing girls, too."
Rebecca's nipples turned into cones under her T-shirt. "Please tell me you kissed her."
Deana tightened her grip on Rebecca's neck and said, "I never kiss and tell," then she pulled their mouths together.
They made out until Rebecca had Deana's shirt up and was twisting her throbbing nipples. “Stop, not here.”
Rebecca huffed. “Shit, kissing you is the most erotic thing, it sets me on fire. Fuck, I can't get enough of you.”
"Mmm, I'm glad you feel that way because I love kissing you, too, but shouldn't we wait until your parents leave?"
"I'm not sure I can wait that long," Rebecca said.
"Me neither, but we should at least go in your room."
"I wanna do you on the table,” Rebecca said and humped her crotch on Deana's thigh. “Have you for dinner...like Evan did.”
"That can be arranged," Deana said with a smirk, "as soon as your parents are gone." She sucked and nibbled Rebecca's plump lower lip, then the lesbian kissing frenzy resumed, and Rebecca's hand went back to Deana's tits.
Later, when Candy came home, she went straight to her room and got in the shower. Evan used the time to mentally psych himself up. Not wanting to return to the scene of the violence, he waited in the kitchen for his mother.
Gloria strolled into the room and sat on his lap without an invitation. "I love you," she said.
Evan thought he might have his brow raised like Deana's questioning stare. "Thank you, I love you, too."
After an awkward few seconds, he gave her a raspberry on her neck and got the giggling squirm he wanted. The tip of Gloria's finger gently brushed his cheek. “Does it hurt?”
"No, not really,” he said. “Can you do me a favor, could you give me a few minutes with mom, alone?"
"I need to talk to her about being grounded, and see how mad she is, and how mad dad is."
Gloria mumbled with her eyes down, "Plenty." Then she added, "I'll go in my room and call Jayda and Alex, with your phone.” She grabbed his phone off the table. "Thanks."
Evan rubbed his head and watched her leave, figuring Gloria heard what happened from their mother. His anxiety increased.
Deana heard it first, but before she could say anything, Rebecca yanked her hands out from under Deana's shirt.
She had to strain her neck to look behind her, where Rebecca was looking. "Hi, mom," Rebecca said without showing any surprise on her face.
"What are you girls up to?" Mrs. Stevens asked.
Deana's cheeks were burning, so she turned away. "Um, this is embarrassing," Rebecca said and looked at Deana. "Can I tell?" Before she could respond Rebecca continued, "Deana has never kissed a boy, You know how her dad is. So I was, um, was showing her how."
Rebecca smiled nervously at her, and she waited, expecting the worst.
Mrs. Stevens said, "Okay, but maybe do that in your room. We wouldn't want your father to get the wrong idea."
"Okay, sorry, it was a spur of the moment thing. Deana didn't want to do it. She's really embarrassed now." Rebecca got off Deana's lap. "Look how red she is."
Mrs. Stevens looked at Deana with a smirk. "Yes, yes you are Deana, but no need, I understand these things."
Deana faked a smile and nodded.
"We're leaving soon," Rebecca's mother said. "There's plenty of stuff to eat. What are you two doing tonight?"
Deana shrugged and deferred to Rebecca, who said, "More practice, maybe. Deana needs it."
"You have anyone in particular that you're getting ready for?" Mrs. Stevens asked Deana.
She shook her head, but Rebecca was nodding furiously. "Yup, she does, and I'm a little jealous. He's really cute, but he's not interested in me."
Deana knew Rebecca wouldn't tell, but she could still feel her heart pulsing in her throat and hear it in her ears.
"Good," Ms. Stevens said. “We'll most likely be home late, so don't wait up.”
When Rebecca's mother walked back to her bedroom, Deana punched Rebecca's shoulder. "Idiot!"
"Ouch." Rebecca rubbed her arm. "I had to say something."
"Yeah, we wouldn't want your mother to know, too."
"I still can't believe your mother caught us like that and didn't freak out."
"She smiled like she was happy for me. That's weird, isn't it?"
"Kind of cool if you ask me," Rebecca said and grabbed Deana's crotch. "Fuck, you're excited."
"You're turning me into a horny slut who gets off on almost getting caught.”
"Nah, you always were, I'm only helping you realize your full potential."
"I swear, as soon as they leave, I'm gonna fuck you up."
"I can't wait that long." Rebecca shoved her hand down the front of Deana's yoga pants.
Her eyes met the tumbler's challenging stare. She smirked defiantly and arched her back, pushing her groin forward. A spike of adrenaline warmed her face and released her lubricating juices. The door to Mrs. Stevens's bedroom was in sight over Rebecca's shoulder. If she opened it, Rebecca's body would be a shield and Deana would pull her friend's hand from her crotch. Yeah, it's safe, she decided and let Rebecca's think she was worried. “Stop, Reb. Don't do that here...your parents, please, stop, we might get caught.” She'd give the tumbler a minute of excitement.
As Deana expected, just like when they played truth or dare, the little wildcat pushed the limits and grabbed a handful of her moist pussy. She had always thought her brain dictated what her body did, common sense ruled, but when one of Rebecca's fingers slipped into her flesh channel and smashed her clit, she wasn't sure anymore. “Ah, your mom... Rebecca, your mother might—”
Rebecca cut Deana off with a quick thrust across her clit, and her body showed her what it thought about her common sense. She grabbed Rebecca's neck with threatening hands, ready to choke her, but instead, steadied herself so she could lift her right foot to the chair. She turned her knee out and the tumbler's middle finger sliced through the wet slit. Deana raised both brows and put on her most effective, you better stop expression, but she didn't speak, and Rebecca didn't stop. Instead, her arm threw short, fast jabs into Deana's pants. Each downward punch sent her curved fingers around Deana's pubic bone, across her clit and into her cunt.
“Let go, Baby, cum for me,” Rebecca whispered. “I love watching you get off; it makes you even more fuckin' beautiful.”
Not only had common sense taken a backseat to pleasure, Deana's brain was riding in the trunk. Her body took over, and like the involuntary beating of her heart, her nipples exploded with sensation, and her pelvis pumped her pussy against the finger-fucking hand. If Rebecca's parents came now, they would get to see her in the throes of orgasm.
“Holy shit,” Rebecca said, “you're gushing, gushing all over my hand.”
Deana wasn't sure what was happening, but she couldn't take anymore. She clung to Rebecca for support and clamped her thighs shut on the tumbler's hand. It might have been the best climax of her life.
Evan was prepared for sunglasses and a scarf around his mother's neck. She would be upset, mad at him, and he would say he was sorry a thousand times. That's what Evan was expecting when he stood and faced the doorway into what his father deemed the adult annex. Evan could not have foreseen nor equipped himself for what happened next.
The woman who entered the kitchen wasn't wearing sunglasses or a scarf. All of Evan's preparation had been a waste of time. His rehearsed apology was a stupid tongue twister that clogged his throat. Who was that woman staring at him from the other side of the kitchen? Evan was inflicted with a state of paralysis.
What had once been blue jeans, were now shredded as if her bulking thighs had burst them and the legs had fallen away from her crotch. A belly button ring would have complemented the ZZ Top T-shirt that was tied in a knot below her chest. It acted as a sling for her huge breasts. Makeup had been replaced with a youthful shine, and her strawberry-blonde hair was pulled back in that ponytail he loved. The transformation that had been underway for weeks was now complete; Candy was back.
There seemed to be an invisible force field holding them apart. Evan leaned against it, but he couldn't move. "I, ah, I'm—" He tried to wet his lips, but his tongue was too dry, so he had to force his words, "I'm sorry."
The invisible force reversed, and they almost ran at each other, his tears boiled over before he collided with Candy. "Mah, oh, Mom, I'm sorry, I swear I didn't mean to—"
"Shh, don't, don't, Evan, it's my fault. I shouldn't have."
“No! I was the one who shouldn't have. I'm the one who's to blame. I shouldn't have let that happen to you. I'm sorry I didn't help you."
“Please don't say anything, not yet.” Her arms tightened. “Just hold me.”
Evan held her head in his hands, pressing it against his shoulder. Her hot tears soaked through his shirt. A fist of pain grasped his heart. He had loved Candy with an incomprehensible love as only a child can. If she had died like his mother had, Evan would have been crushed, broken and empty, then he would have healed, but Candy hadn't died. It had been like sand blowing off the dunes, a little at a time; she had been taken away. He hadn't noticed at first, then Candy was gone. No, not gone, held prisoner by his father. Candy had been locked inside a box called, Mommy. Once Evan realized who was behind the facade, it was a knife constantly cutting into his broken heart.
The minutes passed like hours. Candy was supposed to be the warrior, the strongest person in the room. Evan wished she'd stopped crying; it was making him angry. Candy drew in a huge breath and wiped her face on his shirt. "Honey, you did what you love, what you're good at. Cindy told me how good you are. You didn't do anything wrong." Her arms restricted his chest and a sob caught in his throat. "It's all my fault. I'm sorry."
Evan's anger turned into fury, and he pushed back, holding his mother by the shoulders. "It's his fault, all his fault! What did he do to you? Did he hurt you?"
"Nothing, he didn't do anything.” Candy mumbled with her face pressed against his chest, “I shouldn't have done this."
"What," he asked, "what shouldn't you have done?"
"I made a mistake, a huge mistake," she said. "I swear, I didn't know, I thought I could make it work. It will. It's gonna work. I'm gonna make it better."
Gloria's warrior seemed to come alive and snatch him out of the raging flood that was sweeping him away. He believed her, even though his mind couldn't lay hold of any logical reason he should. "I know, I know," he said.
Candy turned away and walked towards the stove. A transparent veil of threads hung in front of the sharp curves that the short-shorts couldn't contain. The babysitter was back. "You want some herbal tea?"
Evan stared like she had asked him if he wanted a shot of Jack Daniels. The strawberry-blonde in the cutoffs and the ZZ Top T-shirt walked back to him. His eyes followed the swish of her tits like a hypnotist's pocket watch. He didn't see his father's wife anymore.
"Sweetheart, listen to me." Candy was a foot shorter than him, but the woman who wrapped her arms around his body felt like a giant; like the teenage girl who always took up for him. "I love you," she said.
"I've always loved you."
"I know," she said. “We need to talk. I'll make dinner, then later we'll talk."
He watched her pour the water in her cup, fascinated by the transformation that had occurred.
When Mr. and Mrs. Stevens were leaving, they found the girls on the couch, Rebecca was lying across Deana's lap, her ass up like the middle of an inch worm. Deana saw them, but not in time to stop her hand. It cracked against Rebecca's right cheek.
Mr. Stevens smiled and said, "You'll just hurt your hand; her backside is as hard as her head."
Rebecca huffed. "Thanks, Dad."
Mrs. Stevens said, "He's right, spanking you never worked."
Deana was glad they saw it as fun and games. That was until Rebecca's mother poked her head back in the house and said, "Maybe if you pull her pants down you might be able to teach her a lesson," then she left.
Rebecca twisted around and said, "Nah, that never worked either, but I don't mind if you try." She shoved her ass up again.
Deana lowered the stretchy pants in bite-size increments until the tumbler's butt was fully exposed, then she grabbed the excessive mound of pussy that was bulging between Rebecca's thighs. "I got a better idea," she said and pulled Rebecca's vibrator out from between the cushions. “Me and Henry are gonna fuck you up now!”
Evan was in a Gloria-Candy sandwich on the couch. He had waited impatiently through a spaghetti and meatballs dinner to hear what his mother had to say. He sensed there was more to, "I made a mistake, a huge mistake," than the racing thing. His growing curiosity was becoming a painful need to know, but it wasn't the right time to ask, so he did his best to enjoy the moment.
It had been so long since they had watched TV together. They used to do it all the time. Evan could remember being curled up next to Candy, snuggling. Then, little by little, his father had built that box, her prison, and it shut Evan out. Now, sitting with Candy, having her leaning against him, he felt all the tiny increments of painful loss as one. He wanted to hug her, squeeze her, and tell her how much he had missed her, but it wasn't the right time for that, either. Candy had to speak first.
Once Gloria had fallen asleep, Candy started talking about her childhood and his; and their lives together in the early days, the good ole days, when she was just their babysitter. She opened up to him and unpeeled layers of mystery. She had never spoken so freely about his mother, Sandra, and it became obvious how much Candy had looked up to Sandra and how much she loved her and missed her.
“My mother wasn't there for me, especially after my father died. She was a drunk," Candy said.
All of the respect and awe Evan had for Candy, was magnified, and he started falling in love with her anew. He could have spent the night on the couch listening to her, looking at her and asking questions, but Candy told him it was getting late and they could talk more another time. Evan was disappointed. He still didn't understand why she thought it was her fault.
"Your mother gave me a camera for my birthday, and I used it to take tons of pictures. I'll get you those pictures and all the other pictures I had, then I'll answer any more of your questions." She squeezed his leg and kissed his cheek. "My sister has them. She said she would find them. I'll get them from her."
Evan said, "You don't talk to your sister, do you?"
"I didn't, but I saw her. She moved back here from California, and I saw her.” Candy's eyes glistened.
"You missed her," he said.
"Yes, Honey, yes I did." A tear escaped from each eye and trickled down her cheeks.
Evan got up, took Candy's hand and pulled her to her feet. "Thank you for talking. I love you."
"Sorry I waited so long."
"I know, Dad—Whatever." He looked at his sister sprawled on the couch. "I'll get her.”
Evan picked Gloria up. Her limp body was hot against his. He hoisted her and crossed his arms under her rump. Her head rested on his shoulder and her legs dangled in front of his. She grunted and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Good night," Candy whispered and kissed Gloria's forehead. "Good night, Evan. I love you."
Evan faced his mother with Gloria between them. He leaned in and touched his lips to hers, looking into Candy's eyes. "Good night," he whispered and slowly moved back, his intense stare unwavering. It was right there in his mother's eyes, written on her face, and it flowed into him with absolute clarity. There was no doubt in Evan's mind that it was the truth. If they ever kissed again, they wouldn't be able to stop. He wasn't afraid of his father anymore, and making love to that man's wife didn't bother him, but Evan was scared. He wasn't afraid of sex with her; he wanted his Candy as much as he had ever wanted her. The fear stemmed from something he knew, but it was a knowing that hadn't yet come to its fullness.
Without another word, Evan and Candy went in opposite directions, Candy through the kitchen and Evan toward Gloria's bedroom. When he reached her door, he paused, then continued down the hallway, up the stairs, and into his room. He tucked Gloria in his bed. Fuck you, Dad.
Rebecca needed to turn on the ceiling fan and turn off the overhead light, but she wasn't ready to cast Deana's naked body into darkness. Deana had fallen asleep in the middle of a conversation, after two hours of illicit sex. Now, the Italian goddess was smiling contently in a REM state. Rebecca wanted to touch her twitching lips and read Deana's thoughts.
The first time she noticed Deana's lips or wondered what the small lumps on her chest felt like, being bisexual, gay, lesbian or whatever weren't things she thought about. Maybe she didn't even know about them back then. By the time Deana kissed her on the front lawn, Rebecca was sure she was bisexual, and she wanted Evan and Deana. Sure, part of it was the taboo of a threesome with twins, but she had feelings for Evan, always had. What happened?
She hadn't anticipated or been prepared for this. They had loved each other since they were little girls, and she had wanted to kiss Deana for years, but now she was in love with her. Not strong feelings or a crush, it was a feeling so powerful it could make her smile when she was sad, laugh when she was mad or cry when she was climaxing. Being away from Deana for a day made her uncomfortable. After two days, it hurt her heart. Would she be able to share her lover?
Before Deana fell asleep, she told Rebecca she was ready; she was going to let her brother take her virginity. For some reason, it had become more urgent, and Deana wanted it to happen before her father came back. Rebecca thought something was amiss in Deana's world, but it might have been jealousy clouding her judgment. If she didn't love Deana so completely, she would have tried to talk her out of it. Then again, fucking Evan was still something she wanted to do, while Deana watched.
Deana's body jerked, and she murmured. Rebecca wished she could climb inside Deana's dream and see if it was her or Evan that was making Deana smiled contently. Fuck the light, she thought, and laid half of her body on Deana's and snuggled with her girlfriend. Deana's crotch warmed her thigh. “Baby, I didn't mean to fall in love with you, but I did.”
When the teenager trapped in the twenty-seven-year-old woman's body reached the bedroom, she stood in front of the floor to ceiling mirror, seeing herself for the first time since she donned the silly outfit. If Candy had taken a good look at herself before she left the bedroom earlier, she wouldn't have had the courage to face Evan looking like a slutty school girl, but she was glad she had.
Candy put her hand on her stomach, circled her belly button with the tip of her finger and grabbed the lip of skin at the bottom, imagining a gold shaft with a diamond head. Her husband would go ballistic if he found her sporting a belly button ring when he returned from China. She smiled and thought about all that could change while he was away. The potential was intoxicating, but in a traumatizing way, like losing your cherry, you can never undo it.
She pinched her nipples so hard it made her devilish smirk turn into a grimace. When she released them, they throbbed and plumped, A ridge formed across her shirt from one swollen bud to the other. She remembered her stepson's eyes constantly darting to her chest. He had stared at her ass when she walked away from him, too. Miss Tonya was right; she still had it. Why didn't it work on John anymore?
Evan hadn't stopped paying attention to her for one second, and he had hung on her every word. She leaned against him on the couch, the way he used to huddle up against her when they watched TV. Back then, when she imagined the future, it looked like it had been tonight. Evan and her together, in love, making love and making a baby. Her stepson had awoken all those old hopes and dreams along with the passions and desires she had been denying and stuffing for years.
Candy's mind tingled with excitement. She felt like a kid sneaking around behind her parent's backs, hiding some secret or doing a naughty thing. If she continued down the path she was on, there would be so much naughty to hide. There would be mind blowing passion, love making that would rock her world like never before. She could go back in time and fall in love like a teenager, and they could make a baby.
The problem was, Candy couldn't throw caution to the wind and get swept up in a sandstorm of youthful lust. Sure, it would be exciting, supercharged with fear, but she understood the potential for serious harm. There was life-threatening danger involved. Could she take that chance?
Deana's dream was incredibly lifelike, but it lacked the fears that accompany real life. So what if she was naked in the middle of a plush, green carpet of grass. Who cared if the warm oil that flowed over her sensitive flesh spilled on the satin blanket? Evan was massaging her. Somehow, his hands were touching her everywhere at the same time. He was saying, "I love you, I love you, I love you." It was heaven.
Her brother was naked and his giant erection pointed at the sky. She knew he was going to take her virginity, but it didn't matter that the birth control might not be working yet, if it hurt or if their mother ran to them, screaming, "Stop, stop..." The only thing she cared about was that Evan would be the one.
His cock head smeared the warm, slippery fluid up and down her pulsing folds of pink flesh, taunting her unprepared hole. She smiled at Rebecca when she realized her best friend and lover was looking over Evan's shoulder. Rebecca's knowing expression reminded Deana that she had revealed her biggest secret. They both knew that once her brother pushed his cock inside her body, her greatest fear would lose its power.
The knob of her brother's dick was on the brink of crushing the last wave of resistance, and a blackbird screeched. Deana's breathing stopped, and her eyes popped open. It wasn't a bird, it was her internal alarm system, alerting her that she had waited too long. This was it, the time her father would finally do the unthinkable.
It wasn't the floorboard, or her door, or her father. Deana's heart started beating again. She shielded her eyes against the ceiling light and squinted. Mrs. Stevens was standing there. Deana remembered where she was but couldn't form a coherent thought, so she didn't speak. Rebecca's mother pointed at the light switch, and Deana nodded. Darkness flickered like a black screen being waved in front of her face, but before Mrs. Stevens finished closing the door, Deana's eyes used the light coming from behind the woman to snap a blurry picture of her surroundings. No wonder Rebecca's mother had that look on her face.
Deana decided not to tell Rebecca until morning, so she gently covered their naked, intertwined bodies with the sheet. She wasn't nearly as embarrassed as the last time their affair had been discovered.