Menaka
- 2 years ago
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A House Of Men Ch. 02 free porn video
Before I go any further, maybe I should explain a little more about the life I am currently living. I am a college student, a workhorse, the oldest of eight children, and mother to the five men I live with, two of whom are my twin brothers Jay and Rob. Carlos, Joe, and Mark make up the rest of the household. I bitch, I nag, I stock the fridge, I give them total hell, and I couldn’t possibly imagine living without even one of them. I moved in about six months ago when the rent on my current apartment went too high for my meager salary.
‘Jay, what am I going to do? I can’t afford my place anymore, old man Reiley raised the rent again, and I have a year and a half of school left.’
‘Holly, Holly, Holly, you know you are always welcome to stay with us. You know that! Matter of fact, Eric just moved out, something about England and photography or art or whatever, so we have an opening. And since Carlos inherited that monstrosity from his Granny last year, it’s rent-free. It’ll be loads of fun.’
‘I don’t know, Jay. It seems like a mad house, what with four or five guys living there. I’m not sure it would be the best place.’
‘Aw, come on, we’ll be good. We do our own laundry, and you get your own room and bathroom. We’ll even try to not be total pigs. It won’t be bad, I promise.’
* * * * *
For the first few weeks, it wasn’t bad. It really wasn’t. I was able to study in peace. There was no foot traffic, no grime, and the laundry actually got done in a reasonable amount of time. Then I got too comfortable, and a little bored. I roamed, I did laundry that wasn’t mine, hell, I even stocked every fridge in the house. That’s when all went down the tubes and true colors were revealed. Burps, grunts, sock hockey, the loss of toilet seats . . . you name it, it probably happened. Men multiplied rapidly, and the phones rang off the hook. Mark became a hot commodity with the ladies, and sports provided constant background noise. This brings us back to the present.
* * * * *
‘Holly! Holly, baby, where are you?’
‘Mark, if you call me baby one more time, so help me . . .’
‘But, Holly, you are my baby. I love you to no end.’
‘What do you want, Sugar Bunny?’
‘Sugar Bunny? You did not just call me Sugar Bunny.’
I can hear his buddies snickering in the background, and have to hold back my own laughter.
‘Well, since I am your baby, I figured you must be my Sugar Bunny.’
‘Ah, Holly . . .’
‘What do you want, Mark?’
‘A little TLC?’
‘Dammit, Mark!’
‘Um, well, we’re out of frozen pizza, and I don’t have any clean clothes.’
‘So go put your clothes in the washer, add soap, turn on the machine and go get more pizza from the store.’
‘But, Holly . . .’
‘No buts, Mark, I’m not your mother.’
‘Shit!’
‘Mark, just go, now!’
‘Fine.’
Now my head hurts and, despite what I said, I do feel like his mother right now, with all the yelling and reprimands. I also feel like apologizing. Unfortunately, that would only make matters worse. Mark jumps on the slightest sign of weakness and saps it for all he’s worth. I would be doing all his laundry and shopping in no time. It’s not as if the others are any better though. If I didn’t already do most of the shopping, either we’d all starve or they would eat all my food. The only redeeming point these five overgrown boys have is that they do pay for all the groceries. I don’t pay for any of it, so I can’t complain too much.
* * * * *
I wake early the next morning to a large hulking teddy bear of a man bearing the name of Joe. He is towering over my bed, his big blue eyes mournfully eyeing me as I drift along in dreamland. I suddenly jerk awake as he shifts his weight and bumps into the bed with some force.
‘Joe, what the . . . Oh, Joe, what’s wrong?’
‘Macy . . . Macy, she’s moving to Georgia, Holly, and she’s . . . she’s . . . she’s . . .’
‘She’s taking Danielle with her?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Oh, Joe, I’m so sorry.’
‘She still won’t let me have any custody, Holly. I won’t get to see Danielle at all if I don’t go all the way down there. Can’t you do something? I have one more hearing before they go, maybe you could come tell the judge something . . .’
‘Joe, we’ve tried that. They want a social worker to visit the house and you know what happened last time she came by. The place is a hellhole as far as a social worker and a four-year-old little girl are concerned. We don’t even have toilet seats for goodness sakes. If you can get the house cleaned up and not do the whole nervous drinking thing before the hearing or the visit, maybe you’ll have a chance.’
‘Will you help me, Holly?’
‘Of course, and so will the guys, even if I have to threaten the integrity of the mini-fridges. Oh, and Joe, you do realize that if Danielle does get to come stay, you have to sleep in your room, not on the couch, don’t you?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Great. Can I go back to sleep now?’
‘Sure, Holly. Have I ever told you how much I love you?’
Sigh. What I do to deserve so much love is beyond me, but I am more than willing to help Joe get partial custody of Danielle. She shouldn’t have to grow up without a father if he is willing to make the sacrifices necessary to take care of a little girl. Not to mention that I will actually have a clean house, if only for a few days. All will go well, I am sure, and Joe will be all the much happier for it.
Awhile later a tremendous crash from the vicinity of the kitchen wakes me.
‘Now what?’
‘Um, it’s okay, Holly, we have everything under control. Go back to sleep.’
That is the worse news I have received in awhile. When the guys ‘have things under control,’ all hell is bound to break lose. I am out of bed and in the kitchen within seconds of Rob’s oh, so reassuring words.
‘Ooo, Holly, love the nighty.’
‘Shut up, Mark. What’s going on in here?’
‘Well . . . things get slippery when wet, ya know, and well, the dishes were wet and I kinda dropped them.’
‘Oh, Rob, that’s it? A few broken dishes isn’t a big deal. And since when do you do dishes?’
‘We were trying to help Joe. And, um, Holly, it wasn’t just a few dishes. It was almost all of them.’
‘What were you doing to break all the dishes?’
‘Well, I stacked them in a trash bag so I could go wash them in the bathtub. There’s a lot more room there than in the sink and . . .’
‘Why didn’t you use the dishwasher?’
‘I couldn’t find the soap. And it would’ve taken too long.’
‘Geez, Rob, you could’ve waited until I woke up. Or asked Carlos. He knows where it is.’
‘I know, I just wanted to give it a try my way.’
‘Yeah, okay. That’s understandable. But now you have to go get more dishes. Preferably heavy duty ones.’
‘Alright. Do I have to wash the new ones?’
‘Yup. When you get back, I’ll show you where we keep the soap.’
‘Okay. Come on, Jay, let’s go.’
Ah, clean-up. Something I do daily, although you couldn’t tell by looking. We have a broom, a mop, a vacuum, and a ton of cleaning supplies, but somewhere along the way, the male species seems to have lost all ability to use any of them. Or maybe its just my boys. Either way, I now have a major chore in front of me. Twelve place settings of broken glass. Oh, the joys of being the woman of the house.
‘Carlos, have you seen the broom?’
‘Why would I have seen the broom?’
‘Well, since your room contains the broom closet, I thought maybe you had seen it sometime since you moved in.’
‘I haven’t seen it, Holly, I’m sorry.’
Groan.
‘Okay. Either of you other two seen it lately?’
‘Nope.’
‘Nadda.’
‘I know none of you actually used it, so were could it have gone to?’
‘Jacey, when she was here last week, tried to clean my
room. She had the broom. Think maybe it’s in there?’
‘Wouldn’t you have noticed it, Mark?’
‘Holly, my sweet, have you ever been in my room before?’
‘No.’
‘Have you ever even looked inside it?’
‘Honestly, I’ve been afraid.’
‘Well, if you had, you would know why I wouldn’t have run across it.’
‘Go get it for me, would ya?’
‘Naw. If you haven’t been in my room yet, then it’s time. Come with me.’
‘Promise not to molest me?’
‘Of course.’
‘Alright then, lets go.’
To tell you the truth, the prospect of Mark’s room has always scared me a little. My imagination runs wild when I think about it. I see naked women, women’s undergarments that have been left behind, Mark’s dirty clothes all over, old food, trash, poker chips, absolutely not a clean spot in the room. Even when I go after Mark’s beer, I give it to him to stock his own fridge. His unawareness of the possible existence of the broom confirms all my suspicions.
‘Welcome to my domain, my beautiful Holly, and know that you are the first blonde woman to ever enter my room.’
‘Oh, goody. Um, Mark, isn’t this room a little clean to be hiding a broom?’
‘You haven’t seen the closet yet. That’s where it would be. Would you care to tour the bed before we explore the closet? It would be the ride of your life. And I would let you ride.’
‘I’m sure you would. Let’s skip straight to the closet, shall we?’
‘Whatever the lady desires. Right this way, madam.’
‘Geez, Mark, make me feel old why don’t you?’
‘Ah, Holly, you’re not old. You’re just beautiful.’
‘Grr.’
‘Anyway, welcome to my closet.’
‘Oh, man, I can see how you can lose a broom in there. It looks like it’s at least as big as my bathroom.’
‘It is. It took several rounds of poker to win this room, let me tell ya.’
‘I’ll bet.’
‘Well, have at it.’
‘Have at what?’
‘Finding the broom.’
‘Ah, how about no? You find it. I’m not going in there.’
‘Why?’
‘Why? Look at it. It’s dirtier than the entire house. Something might jump out and bite me, and I have to work tomorrow. You don’t. You get bit.’
Mark is laughing as he dives into the closet in search of the renegade broom.
I am shocked at the state of Mark’s actual bedroom. It’s almost clean. There is a card table leaning against the antique wooden footboard of his bed, a set of poker chips and cards on the heavy wooden dresser. A pile of clothes is next to the closet door and the king-size bed takes up half the room, surprisingly, not one piece of women’s clothing is present. Behind the door leading to the hallway is a stack of five folding chairs. Tucked under a bedside table is the prized mini-fridge. Naked women did decorate the wall, along with Metallica, Ozzy Osbourne and a bunch of other bands I don’t recognize. Looking up at the ceiling, I am most shocked to see a mural in blues, greens and whites in an abstract pattern.
‘Ah ha. I found it. And the dustpan even.’
‘Mark, I must say I am impressed. You have a trashcan, you actually use it, and there are no underwear, other than your own, anywhere in sight.’
‘Oh, Holly, my baby, don’t tell me you have no faith in me. Did I not tell you I am a clean man? I am. Both sexually and physically.’
‘I am not your baby, and I’m sorry I doubted you, but look at the rest of this house. You can’t tell me you don’t have a bit of a messy person in there to be able to ignore . . .’
‘FUCK!’
‘Carlos? What is it?’
I find myself running towards the kitchen, wondering what possibly could have gone wrong this time around. I can tell Mark is right behind me, racing toward the finish with broom in hand, ready to deal with whatever we find awaiting us. I hope that only more dishes got broke or something along those lines. I really don’t need another crisis right at this point.
‘Shit, Holly, why didn’t you tell me there was broken glass on the kitchen floor?’
‘Carlos, Rob just broke a ton of dishes in there and I couldn’t find the broom to sweep it up. As a matter of fact, we were looking for it. What possibly would have made you think that all the glass would magically disappear from the floor?’
‘I don’t know, things like this usually don’t stay around that long. I just didn’t think, I guess.’
‘Yeah, well, dig the glass out yourself, clean the floor up yourself, help Rob and Jay with the dishes so this doesn’t happen again, and THINK sometimes! I’m out of here.’
Latisha
- 28.12.2021
- 15
- 0
