How the Women Got Plastered and Patrick Got BustedChapter 8
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I didn’t know what to do. I had just fucked my own mother, after she had made it quite clear that she didn’t want that to happen ... that that couldn’t happen! Her denials hadn’t had Aunt Christy’s game-playing flavor. She had meant it, when she said it. I knew all of that, but all I could think of was the feel of her hand, putting me in her. She’d said she loved me, and I believed that. But parents love their children when they’re disappointed in their children too.
So I went and mowed Mrs. Johnson’s lawn, in an attempt to stop thinking about it.
Mrs. Johnson had a neighbor I had never met, but who came out while I was mowing and asked how much I’d charge to do his lawn too. I did his after hers. That’s why I was gone through lunch. When I got back, Tabby was back home. Randi had gotten in from class. My mom was dressed, and sitting in an easy chair, reading a magazine. She looked up at me as I came in.
“I wondered where you were,” she said, taking in my sweat-soaked, and grass covered clothes. “Take your clothes off on the back porch, would you?”
Just like Aunt Christy, she was treating me as if nothing had happened. Of course Tabby and Randi were there too, but she didn’t seem either overwrought, or mad. She was just ... Mom.
Tabby showed up to watch me get undressed.
“What are you doing?” I asked. I was tired.
“Looking at you,” she said.
“Save it for later, okay?” I asked. “Besides, Mom might see you.”
“She gave me a lecture, when I got home,” said my little sister.
I didn’t cringe, but it was close. “What about?” I asked.
“About how I’m not supposed to let you touch me again.” She frowned. “She also said - again - (said with a groan) I can’t date until I’m thirty.”
“Making her cast kind of got things roiled up,” I said.
“She showed it to me. It’s beautiful. I can’t wait until I look like that.”
“She’s beautiful,” I admitted. “You all are.”
“That makes me want to let you touch me again,” she said, her voice quite serious.
“Mom’s right,” I said. “It’s a bad idea.”
“If I can’t date until I’m thirty, you’re the only boy around who can touch me,” she pouted.
“She’s kidding about that,” I said. “You know that.”
“She sure sounded serious this time.” Tabby pouted a little.
“Like I said, making her cast was ... difficult. You know how you felt when we did yours.”
“Do I ever. I had to rub off twice in the shower!”
“Tabby!” I moaned. “That’s more information than I need, here!”
She stood there, like she was waiting. I was standing there in my jockeys.
“Well?” I prompted.
“You’re not done yet,” she said, pragmatically.
“If you think I want Mom pissed off at me for showing you my dick, you are sadly mistaken,” I said, bending over to pick up my clothes. I wadded them up, in preparation to putting them in the laundry hamper.
“You dunce!” said Tabby. “Shake them out first! Why do you think she wanted you doing this on the back porch in the first place?”
“Oh,” I said. “You’re making me nervous, that’s all.” I shook the grass off of my clothes and wadded them back up.
“Good,” she said, turning around. She looked over her shoulder. “You’ve been making me feel really nervous lately too.”
I took a shower and, out of habit, just wore clean underwear to raid the fridge in. I intended to take a nap of my own. I was lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling, with half a peanut butter sandwich in my hand, when Randi opened the door and walked in.
“I saw the casts,” she said. “They’re really beautiful.”
“Thanks,” I said. I was so tired that I just wanted to go to sleep.
“Mom suggested that I put the lubricant on myself,” she said.
“Oh,” I said.
“She didn’t say why.” My older sister looked at me. “Did you do it when you made hers?”
I nodded.
“That must have been interesting.”
“You have no idea.” I said.
“When do you want to do me?” she asked.
I wished she hadn’t put it quite that way. I was tired, but I wasn’t dead. I had had sex twice now. You’d think a guy would get used to it ... be satisfied ... not want it so much any more.
Stop laughing. I was only two days away from being seventeen.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Right now I just want to take a nap.”
She looked miffed. “You don’t want to see these again?” She cupped her breasts.
I looked at her. “You know very well how much I want to see them again,” I said. “I just don’t want to O-D.”
She laughed. “Okay, sport. Maybe later. You might have to beg me, though.”
I looked her dead in the eye. “I know how much you want to show them to me again,” I said.
She blinked. Her eyes got wary.
“You really are growing up ... you know that?”
“You have no idea,” I said.
She turned to go. I had a sudden impulse to experiment. “Randi?”
She turned around.
“Kiss me good night.”
“What?”
“I’m taking a nap. Kiss me good night.”
There for a second I didn’t think she was going to do it. She frowned, and then looked puzzled.
“I don’t kiss you good night,” she said.
“I’d really like it if you started,” I said back.
She looked confused, but at the same time, she came back toward the bed. She leaned down, and her hair fell to my face. It tickled. She pressed warm lips against mine, just for maybe two seconds, and then pulled up a few inches, to stare into my eyes.
“Thanks,” I said. I reached up and tweaked one of the nipples poking through her shirt. I did it very gently. “I do want to see them again.”
Her eyes got round, and she stood up quickly. She looked wary again. “Later,” she said.
“Later,” I agreed.
Later turned out to be the next morning. Randi got a call from a girlfriend while I was taking my nap, and they went out that night. I wondered if she was punishing me for squeezing her nipple. To be honest, though, I needed the break. This sex business was a lot more demanding than I ever would have thought it could be.
My mom worked part time as a temp, and she never knew when she was going to be called in. When the divorce happened, I guess the judge felt sorry for her, because she got what I thought was a huge alimony check every month. I only saw my dad maybe four or five times since he left, but I guess he was doing okay, at least financially.
I was eating breakfast, in my underwear of course, when Randi came down.
“Sorry about last night, sport,” she said, yawning. She stretched and her nipples poked out. “Jennifer broke up with her boyfriend, and needed moral support.”
“It’s okay,” I said, feeling relieved that she hadn’t been punishing me.
“I told her about your project,” she said, bending over to get the orange juice out of the fridge. She had on tan, lacy panties. “She said if you need more models, to let her know.”
Milk dribbled out of my mouth as it dropped open.
“You’re kidding,” I said around a mouthful of cereal.
“I didn’t tell her how ... personal ... it can get,” said Randi, standing up. “She’s pretty wild, though. I guess you could tell her how to do it and not be there.”
“Is that what you’re going to do?” I asked, thinking she was working up to how she was going to punish me for squeezing that nipple.
She sat down, and looked at me. “Oh no,” she said. “I don’t have a boyfriend either.”
I felt myself getting stiff. “I can’t be your boyfriend,” I said, stupidly.
“Of course not,” she said seriously. “But you’re the only game in town, right now.”
“There are dozens of men out there who’d kill to ... see them.”
“You, sir, are correct,” she said, without a trace of humility. “But I’m mad at all them. I’m not mad at you.”
“You’re not?” I sighed, with relief.
“Not yet,” she said.
“Um ... does that mean you think you will be later?”
“That all depends,” she said.
“On what?”
“On how I feel after you’re done with my cast.” She winked at me!
We did her cast in my room. She was taking off her shirt while I unpacked a kit. When I turned around, I dropped the bottle of lubricant from nerveless fingers. She’d taken her panties off too.
“Do you like it?” she asked, looking down. “You’re only the second man to ever see it.”
I was looking down too. That zig-zaggy darkness I had seen through her panties, before, was a tattoo of a lightning bolt. It was bright blue. Her pussy hair had been shaved into a “V”, with the lightning bolt striking down into it. The bottom of the “V” stopped at the beginning of her split. Her pussy lips were swollen. Even I could tell that. They also glistened.
“Tabby told me about how you made her cast,” said Randi. Her hands came to her belly and rubbed, for some reason. “She said I’d have a very good time.” She looked at me with lowered lashes. “I haven’t had a very good time in a very long while.”
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