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Introduction:

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.

This is a very long story and this is not the chapter to start at. You can, but you'll be a little lost because many things have already happened. If you aren't interested in a long incestuous family drama, turn back now. No animals were hurt in the telling of this story and nobody was forced to do anything they didn't want to do.

Note: Please be advised that this chapter has been modified from the original version. Also, I can not promise I will keep doing twice the work to get these chapters posted here.

[b]Potential
by Bistander


Chapter 7
Summer Lawn Job


The birds had started chirping, and the sun was creasing the eastern skyline when Candy got out of bed. John had come home at midnight, smelling of alcohol. She pretended she had been in a sound sleep and only grunted at him. If she asked where he'd been that would have led to him berating her for accusing him of something when he was working hard to provide for her and his family. She didn't need that. She was already beating herself up mentally.

She had to wash those panties, needed them to be pure and unstained by the incestuous act of adultery. She'd never gone to church as a kid, but during the few years she'd taken Evan and Deana, for Sandra's sake, she'd heard enough to know she had already committed adultery with her son, in her mind. She could never let it happen anywhere else.

Now the hamper was empty and her panties were in the washing machine. They'd come out like nothing had ever happened. Too bad there wasn't a washing machine for her mind.

Candy sat on top of the Maytag. The cool steel on her ass cheeks sent chill bumps down her thighs and up her spine. She took a long slow breath, then pushed the start button. A second passed and she jerked when the water started spraying. The vibration transferred to her skin, into her muscles and up through her vaginal tube. Her womb tightened and her nipples grew. She slipped her hand inside her robe and fondled her breasts. She was a weak, tired woman with a horny teenager trapped inside. Her eyes had seen Evan pressing his face into her panties, but her brain told her it was her pussy he was licking. His face was buried in her crotch, and his tongue was plunging into her body. The gears in her head cranked up the time machine; she was suddenly in the kitchen of her family's double wide trailer. It was a memory she had barred from her present life, but it was one too powerful to be forgotten.

The washing machine's water valve snapped shut and the Maytag jerked. Candy was knocked back to the present and nearly screamed, but the soothing chug, chug, chug of the wash cycle made her drift back.

Candy didn't realize her big sister knew how much she liked to spy. Sally said, "Why don't I show you how it feels, then maybe you won't have to peek when my boyfriend comes over."

Candy's cheeks burned with embarrassment. "I, ah, I—"

“Yeah, let me do that, I'll show you what your fingers can't do,” Sally said, and pushed Candy's pants down below her hips.

Candy loved and trusted her big sister, they had grown up together, but she still questioned her sanity. “Here? Right here?” she said. It sucked that they still lived at home with their parents.

Sally's cheeks glowed and her lips formed a crooked smile. "Why not, I'm going to eat you."

While Candy tried to understand what was happening, Sally helped her onto the table, and yanked the soft, cotton pants down her legs. Candy stared at them on the floor while Sally knelt. Candy had never had a boyfriend go there, certainly not a girl, but that was her sister.

Her legs were resting on Sally's shoulders. The first kiss tickled her inner thigh, sending goosebumps up her stomach. She felt her nipples stiffen. The next kiss was closer, and the desire to giggle faded. Sally pressed her lips onto the mound of her crotch, and something stirred deeper inside her body than her probing fingers had ever reached. It felt better than she had imagined while secretly watching Sally get eaten out.

When Sally's tongue forced open the smooth, plump flaps and went into her inflamed vaginal groove, Candy knew she'd been cheating herself using her fingers. The only thing that kept her from screaming was the fear of waking their mother. She squeaked and let out a long muffled moan as she lifted up on her elbows. She needed to see what Sally was doing to her. Her sister's blue eyes peered at her and twinkled, then she went to work. Her lips, tongue and fingers blended into a collage of pleasure between Candy's legs. She gasped and bit her lip. The pressure building inside wouldn't be contained for long. It was a force greater than her years on Earth allowed her to comprehend.

Finally, with a loud squeal, Candy fell back onto the table. Her orgasm sent her legs straight out, shaking, then her heels dug into Sally's shoulder blades. In a fuzzy cloud she could see her sister grinning at her from between her thighs. Sally's face said things would be different now. Candy knew they would. An orgasm of that magnitude had the power to change things.


Evan rolled on his back without anything on his mind. Ten seconds passed and he remembered his mother's underwear, Gloria's reincarnation and Deana's lips. He closed his eyes but that only made him visualize his thoughts. He saw his mother walking to her room after she left him to peel the potatoes, but now saw something that day's trauma blinded him to. He had noticed her amazing tits as they moved around under her loose blouse, but now he saw them clear in his mind. Her nipples were huge, solid bulges following her tits side-to-side swishing. Candy had gone braless back in the good ole days, but not since his father married her.

His mother had taken his hands under the hot water, knowing his arms were rubbing the overflow of her breasts. He pressed his erection against her back and her nipples had stiffened. Then he'd gone into her room—violating his father's rule and her privacy—to look at her pussy bursting from those red panties. Those fuckin' red panties were in his laundry hamper, and he came in them!

There could be an explanation for her not wearing a bra, he told himself. Maybe they were all in the laundry? Certainly there was a better chance of that than his mother trying to get him excited. The red panties in his hamper? Well it was, after all, a hamper designed for dirty clothes. He might not be able to explain it to his satisfaction, but surely it could be explained in bunches of ways that didn't include his mother wanting him to taste her pussy juices and come in her underwear. Damn it, he thought, why didn't I at least rinse them out?

He took a few minutes to review the events of the last month. He had already been horny and lonely without Stacey when he had kissed Deana. That had opened the closet in his mind where he'd hidden those embarrassing puberty-induced feelings. Then his subconscious mind saw Gloria turning into a clone of his babysitter. That was a catalyst to rejuvenate his crush and make him misinterpret everything his mother did. Jeez, he thought, on top of that he'd felt up Rebecca's ass, saw her pussy and made out with his own sister in front of her. He knew Deana and Rebecca at least made out and Gloria's best friend sat on another girl's face at the ball park. No wonder his mind was all messed up. He needed someone to talk to, to give a blow-by-blow account of the past month. They could tell him if he had grounds for his suspicion, or if it was all in his head.

In the absence of wise counsel, he thought ignorance was his best course of action, and he would act like everything was normal until it was proven otherwise. Maybe Deana or his mother would come right out and ask for sex. Then he'd know, but he'd also have to choose between right and sex. Tough decision, he mused as he got out of bed. He had to go do Miss Tonya's yard work, and tonight was race night. “Mm, do Miss Tonya,” he whispered. That would never happen, but thinking about it, and Cindy racing, was enough to make him forget about everything else.

Evan took the long way through their neighborhood to get to Miss Tonya's house. Everything was as he remembered it, so he ruled out being picked up by aliens and dropped off on another planet. He had been horrified to find the hamper empty, but his mother was her normal self. There was no way she could have found his jizz in her panties and acted normal, so he relaxed and kissed her goodbye. Everything was just the way it was supposed to be.

When he parked in front of Miss Tonya's house, he decided to mow the lawn first, then get involved with all the planting stuff she'd mentioned. Mowing a lawn was the perfect brainless activity for him. Walk back and forth, make straight lines and enjoy a sense of accomplishment at the end.

On Miss Tonya's front porch, when he was ready to ring the bell, it felt like the first time he had to sell raffle tickets for baseball. Was he actually nervous? He pushed the button and waited long enough to think nobody was home. Had he messed up and come too early or on the wrong day? While he was deciding whether or not to ring again, he saw movement threw the translucent window. The door opened quickly and cool air and rock 'n' roll rushed out. Was she actually listening to Led Zeppelin's, “Whole Lotta Love”?

"Hi, Evan," Miss Tonya said.

She was wearing a well-worn, loose-fitting sweatshirt with the sleeves cut off and neck hole opened with a cut down the front. The smell of tanning lotion and her rosy face suggested she'd been lying in the sun, but the slope and free movement of her tits said to him, No bikini top. He looked down at her bare feet, then followed her shiny, reddened flesh up to her jean shorts. They had been butchered and worn out like Becky's. Though Miss Tonya's shorts were loose enough to be pulled on without having to open them. Could she have been tanning in the nude?

“I didn't expect you so early during summer vacation. Jayda is in bed still,” she said.

He tried to look anywhere else, but kept returning to her chest. Miss Tonya had breasts much larger than she ever let be seen at the ball field, but based on how they hung and the placement of those bumps, he assumed they were “ski-Jump” tits. Could those really be her nipples holding up that sweatshirt, he wondered.

“Oh, then she probably doesn't want me to mow the grass,” he said. For a few seconds his porn brain painted pictures of his mom's best friend sunbathing nude, while Jayda was in the house going down on some girl.

“You do whatever you need to do, you're the one working,” she said. “She'll get over it.”

Just for fun, he threw out, “We could always start with that massage you wanted.”

Miss Tonya pushed her thumbs in her pockets. A gap opened and the shorts dipped low enough that he could have seen a tan line or panties, if there were any. She smiled like she wasn't one of the softball moms, and said, “I might need you to rub me in places you wouldn't be comfortable touching your mother."

There was no right response. If he said, “I'll touch you anywhere you want,” and she was joking, then he'd sound like a pervert trying to get in her pants. If she wasn't joking and he laughed it off, she'd be embarrassed and he'd never get to massage her. Fuck it, he thought, I'm on planet Horny Women anyway. He said, “Can't imagine that.” Touche`, that could be taken many ways and she'd have to make the first decisive move.

“Interesting,” she said, “I'll keep that in mind.”

Did she just say, I might get to put my hands on her naked body, then fuck her? He said, “Okay,” but he might as well have said, “Daha.”

"Why don't you start in the backyard. The lawnmower is in the shed. I'll bring some sweet tea out for you,” she said. “When you finish, we'll discuss the other thing."

Was the other thing the sex they were going to have or the plants? He kept his mouth shut and walked around the house.
The backyard had a privacy fence down both sides and woods across the back. There was a lounge chair, towel and book in the middle of the lawn. He processed all the information he had and decided, unless Miss Tonya had taken her bikini off and thrown those shorts on before she reached the door, she had to be lying there naked when he rang. But Jayda was home. Nobody's mother gets naked in the backyard when their kid could see them. Whose mother actually got naked at all in the backyard? Damn porn brain! He needed to go to college and stop watching porn.

Evan got the mower out of the shed. The whoosh of the backdoor made him look. Miss Tonya walked over to the chair, folded it up, then bent at the waist, reaching for the book. The loose bottom of her shirt gave him a perfect view of the elongated, cone shaped tits swinging under her body. It would be embarrassing if she caught him staring, but he couldn't turn away. When she straightened up, her ample ass cheeks swallowed her shorts, and he was seeing one of the softball moms' butts like it should never be seen. She's older than my mother, he told himself, but that only made him want her more.

"Evan, I put a glass of tea on the table in the screen room,” she said. “I'll be inside if you need anything."

She's mom's best friend, not one of the MILFs Jason chats with online, he reminded himself, and said, “Okay.”

After mowing the backyard, Evan did the front, then put the mower in the shed and got the weed whacker. He checked his watch to see how much time he had. He hoped to finish up the lawn and put off the landscaping or whatever Miss Tonya wanted until tomorrow or Monday. That way he could get home, take a shower and head to Jason's without seeing his father. It wasn't that he had been told not to go to the races, but the less his father thought he was there, the better. It would suck if he got a direct order not to go. If his father started asking him a bunch of questions, he'd get nervous and blow it.

Later, he looked over his work and felt a sense of pride. Miss Tonya's yard looked great. Perfectly straight rows, the edging was just right and there wasn't a speck of debris on the sidewalks or driveway. He had even pulled weeds from around the shrubs across the front of her house, without being asked.

He walked over to the garden hose hanging on the back of the house, then picked up the end of the hose and studied the brass nozzle, before opening the faucet. He wanted to rinse his hands and wipe his face,not soak his clothes and sneakers. Then he could talk to Miss Tonya about that other thing. If the other thing turned out to be sex, his love for racing would be put to the test. There was no way he had time to fuck his mother's best friend and get home before his father. It was a ridiculous fantasy, but it was a nice distraction from those red panties. He'd done well all day not to think about it, but the closer he got to going back to his house, the more nervous he was. Even teenage denial had a hard time overlooking something as bizarre as Candy's underwear, only her underwear, in his hamper.

“Evan,” Miss Tonya said, as he was about to unscrew the sprayer.

“Oh, hi, I was just going to rinse off and come knock,” he said. “I finished the yard, and I'm ready to hear about the other stuff.”

The screen door slapped the wood frame and she stepped out of the shadow. He tried to swallow, but only croaked. His throat had already been dry, now nothing would go down. He'd need to wet his mouth before trying to talk. Once the sun was on her, he could tell her hair was wet and pulled back on her head, and a white T-shirt had replaced her sweatshirt. Man, was it tight. Her eyes seemed bigger and prettier when her hair was off her forehead. He tried to focus on them. She was walking towards him, either seductively, or gingerly because her feet were bare, he wasn't sure.

“Okay, I'll show you,” she said, and talked the whole time she approached. “I'll point it out and then we can talk dollars. I'll pay you for today now, of course. You did a nice job. It looks great. Your mom was right, you do great work. You pay attention to detail.”

He wanted to say, “She said that,” but Miss Tonya had stopped right in front of him and his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. The softball mom's tits were as big as he'd thought earlier, and she seriously wasn't wearing a bra. Just a white T-shirt, tucked into her pants. It was pulled down tight, but the lumps on top of her breasts still turned up. Big, firm, ski-jump tits on a woman older than my mother, he thought. Was Miss Tonya in on it with Candy? Both of them were trying to make him insane with their braless trickery.

“Ah, thank you,” he said. “I'm just going to rinse my hands.”

Miss Tonya said, “Good,” and stared at his hands, waiting.

He turned the end of the nozzle and it hissed, sputtered and spurted out varying streams in different directions. It was one of those stupid sprayers that started out in a wide mist, then went to a stream after you unscrewed it far enough. This one was defective, and water squirted from under the thing he was unscrewing. Before he could make a correction, water, sweat and dirt got in his eyes. They burned and he closed them hard, He unscrewed faster and straightened his arms to get the rogue streams away from him. He said, “Shit,” then remembered his mother's friend was standing next to him. “Shoot, I meant shoot.”

While he was wiping his face on his arm, he could hear Miss Tonya chuckling. “That thing is messed up,” she said. “You have to know how to work it.”

Great, now you tell me, he thought, feeling stupid and embarrassed. He opened his eyes. They still stung, but he could see the water pelting the thick centipede grass. His wet shirt clung to his chest. “Sorry.” He turned, and the woman was smiling like a middle school girl who had pulled a good one on him. Though nothing else resembled a middle school girl.
“No problem,” she said. “I should have warned you.”

All his fantasies of being a porn star, being the big man who could handle a woman, evaporated with the water on his face. He was suddenly terrified like a little boy in a strip club. Miss Tonya had gotten just as wet. The white T-shirt was clinging to her chest and had become translucent. Her brown nipples were still growing. They were turned up, pushing into the wet fabric, reaching for him. They were like small baby bottle nipples, and he was a baby, his parched lips trying to separate. “I, ah, I got you wet. I'm so sorry, I just—”

“It's only water, I'm not going to melt,” she said. “I'm not that sweet.” She didn't bother to cross her arms over her chest like most girls would do when their headlights came on in public.

There was no explanation other than his mother's best friend wanted him to see through her shirt, he knew that. Shouldn't he make the next move, say something that led to them fucking right there on the ground? If she was a college school girl, he'd know what to say, but she was a woman, a grown woman who could tell his mother he'd asked her to have sex with him. He didn't say anything, he didn't make the next move, he just tried to look anywhere other than at her tits.

“Let me show you what I want,” she said, and turned away from him. “They're delivering the shrubs Monday.”

He turned off the water and followed her around like a puppy dog, knowing he'd regret this day the rest of his life. A thirty-something divorcee had offered him sex and he didn't have the balls to make a move. He'd better do well at racing, because all his fantasies of grandeur were gone. He'd never mention this to Jason, or anybody.


Other than the music coming from the speakers, Evan's car was quiet. Jason seem to have something on his mind, and Evan was relieved. When Jason first heard about the job at Miss Tonya's, he'd said, "Really, she's hot, and I heard she's into young guys. I'd do her."

Evan didn't know where Jason heard that, and he'd ignored it, and forgotten about it until after he left--really ran away from--miss Tonya's house. He was glad Jason seemed to have forgotten about it, too.

The quiet drive on I-10 gave him time to think about racing Dale's car. Tonight he'd get to see it run. He'd seen it plenty of times before, but, truthfully, he never paid much attention to that division. Now it was the most important division, except Cindy's. It was almost impossible to believe it was going to happen, he was going to drive a race car at the Deep South Speedway in an actual race. That is if nothing changed between now and then.

Evan wouldn't let himself think about that, so he shifted his thoughts to the exchange with Deana before he left for Jason's house. He felt bad about lying to her and worse about not including her in his plan. She'd be excited with him and he wanted that, but there was no way he could make her a co-conspirator. Besides, he was keeping his distance until that whole kissing thing was far enough behind them, or he was having sex with Rebecca, or anyone other than Deana or Candy. He'd enjoyed kissing Deana too much, and he'd do it again if she initiated it. That's why he would have made up an excuse even if he wasn't going to the races tonight. He couldn't have done what she wanted anyway.


Deana grabbed her phone and sat on the end of her bed. She fanned her legs, open, closed, open and blew out a long breath. Evan had come home, showered and rushed off to Jason's house. It was obvious to her that he was up to something, and their mother probably picked up on it, too, but she didn't say anything. Deana highlighted Rebecca's number and pressed the call button, then fell back on the bed.

“Hi,” Rebecca said. “Want me to come over?”

She used her feet to push her body up the bed. “No,” she said, and kicked a stuffed animal off the bed.

Rebecca said, “Wanna come here?”

Deana bent her knees until her heels were close to her butt, then she let them flop to the sides. Her shorts tightened over her mound and between her legs. The feeling was strange, confusing and erotic. Evan though she knew plenty of women shaved their pussy, she hadn't been completely bald since she was ten, and now she felt stupid for shaving it. Nothing was going to happen with Evan; he'd never let it, and truthfully, she wouldn't either. So why had she shaved her pussy?
Each time she carefully stroked the steel blade up her swollen lips, in her hidden thoughts, she'd imagined being with Evan and knowing she was bald under her sweats. She had expected him to stay home and teach her to kick-fight, he'd been promising, but he left. Now, even though he wouldn't have seen it, and she wouldn't have told him, she was disappointed. Obviously she had issues.

“Well,” Rebecca said, “you wanna?”

“No,” she said, and reached for a pillow to stuff under her head. She put her hand down her shorts. She hadn't even put on panties.

“What's wrong?”

“Nah-thing,” she said.

“Don't nah-thing me,”Rebecca said. “You sound funny, so tell me. We don't have secrets.”

Deana thought about telling her best friend the one thing she planned to take to her grave. It would be such a relief to say the words out loud, but nobody could know. It was worse than the things she imagined doing with Evan, and she couldn't even confess that. “Rebecca, you promise not to tell anyone?”

“You know better than to worry about that,” Rebecca said.

“I shaved my pussy!”

“Your what?” Rebecca said. “You hate that word.”

Deana held the phone with her shoulder and shoved both hands down her shorts. “My pussy is bald. It feels so weird.” She spread herself and slid her middle finger through the wet groove, remembering Evan's strong hands massaging her ass, so close to her crotch that she wanted to scream, “Do it, touch me.”

“Deana!”

“Sorry, I'm horny, out of my mind horny, and it feels crazy good,” she said. “Oh, and it's cunt that I hate. Pussy's okay. My bald pussy, pussy, pussy feels so good.”

“I'm coming over!”

Deana stared at the call ended message. She didn't want to let Rebecca come over, but she needed her. She was worried about what would happened when she saw her BFF for the first time since the last day of school. That was the day they kissed in front of Evan, and the day she knew Evan wanted her, too.

The knock at the front door came sooner than Deana anticipated, and she didn't feel prepared. Rebecca would want to see, and now that she was outside the door, she was embarrassed about how she had acted on the phone and what she had done. She filled her lungs slowly, then blew it all out in one rush. Her mother was home, and her father could be home at any time, or not.

When she opened the front door, Rebecca pushed past her and looked around the living room and in the kitchen. “Where's Evan?”

“He's not here,” she said.

“Your mom?” Rebecca asked, and started herding Deana backward towards her room.

“Probably in her room,” she said. “Take it easy.”

“Just get in here, I gotta see, let me see your bald kitty.” Rebecca closed Deana's door, and practically shoved her towards the bed.

She smiled nervously, but felt better now that Rebecca was there. All those warm, passionate, loving feelings they shared changed the atmosphere, and they changed her, too. She wasn't lonely and sad or disappointed anymore. “Okay, here goes,” she said, and started a side-to-side shimmy. Her shorts inched down, and she shrugged her shoulders and tilted her head shyly. “Don't laugh.”

“Don't tease,” Rebecca said.

“Me...tease?” She rotated her hips and pushed her groin forward. Her shorts dipped another inch.

“I swear,” Rebecca threatened, “I'll rip your clothes off.”

She knew the little gymnast could easily overpower her, so she picked up the pace. “Here it comes.” She arched backward until she was about to fall. The air was crisp on her hairless pubic mound. She shoved her shorts over the bulges of her hips and air rushed across her sensitive labia. It tingled at first, but seeing Rebecca step forward made her lips pulsate.

“OMG!” Rebecca said. “Wow, I didn't think it could get any more sexy, but wow! Can I, um, pet your kitty?”
Deana took one step closer, and a magnetic force pulled her two more. She held Rebecca's hand and moved it to her stomach, then gave it the gentlest nudge, and Rebecca continued onward. “It feels even better when you touch it,” she said, and gasped. Rebecca's palm cupped her mound, and her fingers wrapped around her pubic bone.

“It's amazing,” Rebecca said. “So smooth, like a baby's butt.”

“When have you ever touched a baby's butt?”

“It's an expression,” Rebecca said.

Rebecca's words were long, drawn out, and breathy. Deana felt them on her cheek, and she felt three fingers reaching between her legs. They grasped her inflamed flesh, pressed into it, squeezed moisture from her inner labia and a finger slipped inside her groove. “Ahh, oh, Reb, my mom...Mmm.”

“Dee, my god, you're on fire. You're soaked.”

Her friend's hand rotated, the heel shoved into the cushion of her V. The fingers sliced through the valley between her pussy lips, grinding over her clit. “My mom,” she mumbled. She hadn't realized until now how much she had missed Rebecca. How much she wanted her, but this wasn't the time or place. “My father, might come...”

“Don't worry,” Rebecca said, and backed her up until she fell onto the bed. “This isn't going to take long.”

It was dangerous, stupid really, but Rebecca's hands were lifting her legs all the way up and pushing them apart. Her hands moved down each inner thigh until Deana was spread eagle, and Rebecca squeezed her pussy as she went to her knees. She looked down her body at Rebecca's face between her splayed legs. It was an obscene, nasty position for a young lady to be in, and it excited her. She was going to get her pussy eaten out by another girl right in her father's house, and that felt good to think about, but it was terrifying, too.

Rebecca blew a long, slow stream of air over her lips, and she almost screamed. Hands were on her ass-cheek, pushing her crotch higher. “I still can't believe how beautiful it is...beautiful you are,” Rebecca said, and kissed her slit where it cut across her pubic bone. “I've wanted to do this ever since the last time I did this.”

The hot tongue darting out and punching the nub of her clit made her blind, deaf and dumb. That might have been her first orgasm, and if she was alone using her finger, she might have been satisfied. Rebecca used her thumbs to spread her pussy open. The air spiked her burning, pink meat, then Rebecca covered it with her mouth. Her tongue drilled up into her pussy hole, and plunged deep, deep, and deeper than she thought it could go. Another orgasm might have rolled through her body, but it may have been a continuation of the first one.

“Damn it, you taste so good,” Rebecca said. “I love making you cum. Cum for me again. Cum all over my face, in my mouth.”
Deana was holding her legs behind her knees, pulling them and rocking her body. It was hard to distinguish tongue from lips, nose or chin. All of Rebecca's face was in her spread cunt. If she was licking her butt-hole, then her nose was smashing her clit, and if her tongue was ramming into her pussy, then her upper lip was getting it. At no time did Rebecca let up, no matter how much she begged her to stop. Orgasm after orgasm pounded her senses, and she had no idea how much noise she was making or how much time was passing.


Candy took her hand out from under her shirt, and took the other one out of her pants, then backed away from Deana's door. She couldn't bear to listen anymore. She hurried to her room.

When she was completely naked, she brought up the image of the driveway and sat in her chair. She wasn't surprised about Deana and Rebecca, and it didn't upset her. What kind of mother did that make her? She was letting her daughter have sex with another girl. A normal mother wouldn't let that happen.

Candy wasn't a normal mother, or normal in any other way. What a hypocrite she'd be to stop them. She had grown up with Sally, doing the same thing, except with her own sister. At least Rebecca wasn't her sister.

She put her feet on the edge of her desk and spread her legs. Her pussy lips were pulsing and wet. Her fingers pushed between them. She missed her sister more everyday, and wished she'd listened to what Sally had told her about John. She had gone against Sally, the only person she truly loved, and now she was paying the price.

John's black SUV came down the driveway. Candy jumped to her feet, went around in a frantic circle grabbing up her clothes, then dashed out of her room. She ran through the kitchen with the wad of clothes under her arm. If John got out of the car right away, he'd see her racing naked across the room, but she had no choice.


Deana's stomach muscles tightened and pulled her into a half sit up. She grabbed Rebecca by her ears and said, “Shh, did you hear that?”

“What?” Rebecca said.

“That!” The footfall was loud and rushed. “Shit.”

Rebecca scrambled to her feet. Deana knew there wasn't any chance of finding her shorts and putting them on, so she grabbed the blanket and covered her middle.

She heard her mother's voice, “Deana, honey.” They both stared at the door, waiting for the worst moment of their lives to happen. “Your father's home.”

The door didn't open, but the bathroom door slammed. “Oh my god,” Deana said. “Give me my shorts. Shit, that was close.”

“Fuck,” Rebecca said. “I was...we were fuckin' squirrels under the tire. Damn it, why don't you have a lock?”

“You know why, potty mouth,” Deana said, and pulled her shorts up. “A better question is why don't we have our own apartment. Squirrels, what the hell does that mean?”

“Nothing,” Rebecca said, and kissed her on the lips. “You love my potty mouth.”

Three quick taps on the door, then it opened. “Good,” her mother said, under her breath. “Your dad's home. Don't blast any music. Rebecca, you staying for dinner?”

“No ma'am, I already ate,” Rebecca said, with a straight face.

“Okay, that's good,” Candy said, and closed the door.

They looked at each other for a minute with questioning faces. Finally, Deana said, “I can't believe you said that.”

“I know, it just came out,” Rebecca said. “Did she know? Do you think she knew? Why didn't she open the door the first time?”

“I don't know. It was weird...but she couldn't know,” Deana said. “She was probably just making sure we knew he was home, in case we were doing something online that he might not like. Not that I would ever do that.”

“I know, you're a good girl who never does anything wrong,” Rebecca said.

“That was before I got corrupted by you.” She wished her father would go to China already, and maybe forget to come back for the rest of the summer. She wanted to live her life without being afraid, at least until she left for college.

“You loved getting corrupted by me,” Rebecca said. “I can't wait until the next time.”

“Don't look at me like that,” Deana said. “If he ever caught us, or even suspected, I'd never get to see you again.” It'd be his fault if she became a lesbian.


Once they were off the interstate, and only a few miles from the track, the mood in Evan's car changed. Evan was excited and had a hard time not speeding.

The sign announcing the Deep South Speedway flashed by and Evan moved into the left-hand turn lane. They crossed the two southbound lanes onto the dirt access road and immediately Evan lowered both windows. His pulse quickened. "I love that smell."

"What smell?" Jason said. "I don't smell anything."

"It's racing in the air. Race fuel, exhaust, dirt and speed."

"Okay," Jason said, "whatever."

"You'll see. I still can't believe you've never come to the races with me."

“I'm just not into all that drafting, loose, tight, pushing, spinning,” Jason said. “The only reason I watch racing is because I'm hoping I'll get to hear the announcer say, 'Danica is tight, or Danica took a hard hit in the rear. She's okay, but she'll be sore tomorrow.'”

Evan smiled even though he didn't want to, and Jason added, "Besides, I've been to like a hundred go-kart races with you, but they didn't cost twenty bucks...for a pit pass, whatever that is."

"Yeah, I know, that's why I'm paying for you tonight," Evan said.

Evan and Jason walked across the grass parking lot and got in line. “Hear that?” Evan said.

"Hear what?" Jason said.

"That," he said, pointing at what they couldn't see. "Those are Street Stock cars doing warm-up laps. That's the division Cindy's friend races in, the one whose car I'm gonna drive. Cindy told him I can drive the wheels off a race car, and he wants me to have a go at it."

"Drive the wheels off or crash the shit out of it and get killed by your dad."

"Crash, doubt it. Killed, maybe." He pulled some bills out of his pocket and said to the girl inside the small wooden building, "Two pit passes and your phone number, please."

"Just the pit passes," a heavyset woman sitting behind her said.

By the girl's expression, Evan figured it was her mother. "Okay," he said, and held out his hand for the two wrist bracelets and ticket stubs.

"Enjoy the races," she said, and pointed. He read her lips, "See you later."

They walked up the sidewalk beside a two-story building that housed the concession stands and the restrooms. On the second floor, Bart, the announcer, called the race from the control room. The sidewalk came to a T and there was the racetrack in front of them. It was a five-eighths mile, high-banked oval that had been cut into the earth. The grandstand was a series of shelves dug into the hill. At the bottom, a concrete wall kept the race cars away from the fans with the aid of a tall chain-link catch fence. The only thing taller was the flag-stand, and it reached out over the track.
"Those are the pits over there," Evan said, and pointed to their right.

"I thought the pits were supposed to be in the middle of the track?"

"Not always,” Evan said. “There's too many cars and haulers to fit down there, so they put 'em over there."

Jason turned in a circle, and said, "Cool," then he spun around again. "Really cool, and there's lots of chicks too.
What's up with ticket girl? She seemed eager to hook up later."

"I didn't remember who she was until we started walking away. She's changed a lot since last year, but I don't really know her. Seen her around and her dad drives a car."

"She's pretty cute."

"That's all I need,” Evan said. “Did you see her mom?"

"I'd do her."

“Her mother?”

“No, Jackass, her, ticket girl.”

"I'm sure you would,” Evan said, and rolled his eyes. “Come on, let's go to the pits.”


Inside the pits, they walked on the packed red clay between two rows of race cars and haulers. Evan's head turned constantly, taking in all the different cars. Jason stopped short and pointed. “Look at that one.”

Evan followed the direction of his friend's finger. “The car or the chick?”

“Um, both, I guess.”

Evan smirked, and said, “Let's get a closer look.”

They walked towards a black hauler with a big number fifteen painted on the side. There were several people busy with wrenches under the hood of a red and black car, and there was a girl in tight blue jeans, with a long black ponytail. She was rolling a tire and pulling an air hose, then she bent over at the rear of the car.

“Sweet ass,” Jason said.

Evan pointed to the logo on the side of the trailer. “Southern Environmental Consultants.”

Jason shrugged. “Huh?”

The girl in the blue jeans yelled to someone whose feet were sticking out from under the back of the car, “Check the rear-end.” Without turning, she said, “Evan, are you staring at my butt?”

“You got eyes in the back of your head?”

Jason looked confused. “Shit.”

“No, Dip-stick, I could feel you staring, as usual.” The girl turned around.

“Cindy, I was not,” Evan said, “but he was.” He pointed at Jason.

“Really,” she said, and walked quickly towards Jason. Cindy was an inch taller, and she was in Jason's face. “So, you were looking at my ass?”

Jason stammered, “Um, I, ah--”

Evan held up his hand and said, “Stop, stop, Cindy. This is Jason.”

Cindy laughed. “Hey, Jason, nice to finally meet you.” She held out her hand. “I've heard a lot about you.”

“You have?”

“Sure, your reputation precedes you,” Cindy said.

Evan watched Jason gulp air and tried to swallow. “Cindy, stop.”

“Sorry,” she said, “Evan put me up to it.”

“Did not,” he said, then changed the subject. “You need help?”

Cindy nodded her head. “Sure, put that tire on and snug all the lugs, then check the pressure. You know how I like 'em. I'll go suit up.”

After Cindy climbed into the hauler, Jason grabbed his arm. “Dude, you realize how much she looks like Deana? Shit, if that's what Deana is gonna look like in four years, marry her.”

“Great advice. I think they put you in prison for that.”

“They might,” Jason said. “Oh, and thanks for not telling me that was your cousin's ass I was staring at.” Jason slugged him in the arm.

“I tried, I pointed to her main sponsor, my father's company.” Evan wondered how much money his father gave, and why. Was it just because Cindy was his niece or because she was his sister's daughter? He didn't even like Cindy as far as Evan could tell. At least not for the past few years.

He stopped thinking and started talking to Bear, one of the crew members, while doing what Cindy asked. Jason watched, surprised that he knew so much about race cars.

“Don't look now,” Jason said, “here comes ticket girl, with reinforcements.”

Evan turned and looked up pit road. “Her blonde friend is cute, but the one with darker hair has nice lumps.”

“Oh, sweet honey pie, I'll take the blond,” Jason said. “You can have lumps or ticket girl or both, if you can handle them.”

Evan watched them approach and the closer they got, the more Jason's pick resembled Becky. She even had her hair in pigtails. “You go meet them,” Evan said. “Tell them we'll see them by the concession stand in a half hour. I got to do this stuff and talk to Cindy. She's not crazy about having a bunch of people around the car before a race. It gets too cluttered, she says, but I think she's worried about spies from other teams.”

“All right,” Jason said with a shrug, “but I might end up taking all three of them.”

“Whatever, just keep them over there,” Evan said, and got busy checking the tire pressures.

When Jason returned, he was smiling. “Dude, ticket girl is perfect for you. She knows all about racing and she loves Cindy as much as you do.”

“That's great,” Evan said. “Just what I need, a girlfriend who only wants to hang around my cousin.” Cindy was quite the celebrity being gorgeous, twice track champion, and not being intimidated by the guys.

“Do me a favor, make her think you're interested, please.”

Evan knew where this was going. “Let me guess, pigtails is ticket girl's friend, so you want me to let her hang around, so you can take her friend behind the trailer?”

“No, that's not it,” Jason said. “Behind the trailer? Is that where—“

“I knew it,” Evan said. “Listen, I'm not against you trying to get in her pants, but I have to pay attention tonight. This is a big deal...for me.”

“I know, I'm just asking you to be nice to her,” Jason said. “Maybe...at least give her the idea that we might get to hang out with Cindy.”

“I'll see what I can do,” Evan said. “You get their names?”

“Ah, shit. You don't know their names? I thought you knew them from last year. I didn't think to ask and they didn't say.”

“Great, now we won't know what to call them,” Evan said. “Hey, you, ticket girl...”

“As long as we find out before we're yelling out, 'Oh, whatever your name, oh, yes, yes, whatever your name is.'”

“Jeez!” Evan said.

“Come on, we're meeting them by the concession stand. On the opposite side from the ticket booth,” Jason said. “Ticket girl said so. She's a little bossy or something.”

Evan and Jason waited on the men's room side of the two story building, the opposite side from the entrance walkway they had used earlier. He glanced around the corner at the ticket booth. Ticket girl's mother was in there, but there was no sign of the three girls. He was growing impatient. As soon as they announced the Street Stock race, he was taking off.
Jason nodded. “There they are.” His eyes were glued to pigtail girl's plum-sized tits. They were way past requiring a bra, and if you looked carefully, you could see the brown circles of her chest caps.

Evan's head moved like one of those dashboard hula dolls, from one girl to the other. Ticket girl's legs were very tan and well toned, her shorts were tiny, and not the ones she had been wearing earlier. She had narrow, arched eyebrows, high cheekbones, and a pouty mouth that made her sexy. Her hair swept from a part on the left over to the right, and draped her shoulder. “What happened to the girl with the big boobs?”

“Who cares,” Jason said.

Pigtail girl was a Becky look-a-like, except her hair was dirty blonde and her tits were a little bigger. Her blue Sunoco race fuel shirt had been washed too many times, but it still made her blue eyes more intense. Her faded Lee jeans had holes in the knees and up the front of her thighs. They were threadbare at the nexus of legs and groin. The belt loops section had been torn away to create homemade hiphuggers. Her cheeks were full and her mouth was wide, just like Becky's. He wondered if this girl kissed like Becky. Maybe he'd buy her an ice cream cone.

The two girls reached them and the brunette from the ticket booth said, "Hi, this is my friend, Billy Joe. I call her, Go-Joe." She giggled.

At first, he thought Billy Joe wasn't going to say anything, but finally, in a mousy voice, she said to Jason, “You can call me, Billy...if you want.”

Evan resisted the urge to ask if he could call her BJ, and wished Jason would ask ticket girl what her name was. This was the third time he'd seen her, and he still didn't know what to call her. He felt bad he didn't remember from last year.
For ten minutes, ticket girl talked and asked him questions about Cindy. Her green eyes sparkled and she moved in a very appealing way, shifting her weight and wiggling her hips. She knew more about racing than any girl he'd met, except Cindy, of course. The fact that she was growing on him made him wish he knew her name even more. How long could he go on meeting up with her without knowing what to call her? Eventually he would have to introduce her, and that would be embarrassing.
He had been completely wrong in his evaluation of the two girls. He'd expected Billy Joe to be more flirtatious and the leader of their group, but ticket girl clearly ran the show. Billy Joe was so shy ticket girl practically had to speak for her. Jason seemed content to watch her and listen to ticket girl.

The PA system announced the start of the Street Stock race, so Evan told the girls he had to go watch because he was driving one of the cars in that division. They seemed very impressed and he felt like he had embellished more than necessary. "You gonna be here next week?" he asked.

Ticket girl said, "If I'm not grounded," and smirked at her friend.

"You get grounded a lot?" he asked.

She giggled, twisted her foot in the dirt and said, "Sometimes. Maybe next week you can buy me a snow cone or something?"
She smirked at her friend again. "I'll try and stay out of trouble."

Evan thought about all the ways she might get in trouble. "You do that, then we'll see you."

Ticket girl said she had to get back, but didn't say where, then she dragged Billy Joe away from Jason.

“Come on,” he said. “You'll see her again.” Probably tonight when you get home, he thought.

They walked to the far end of the hill that made up the grandstand and found a spot on the grassy knoll above turn four. Evan explained to Jason why that was the best spot to watch a race. “We can see the whole track from here, and it's the last turn before the checkered flag. This is where all the beating and banging and crashing happens.”

The Street Stock cars ran their twenty lap feature without one caution. Evan watched the number sixteen car like a scientist studying his pet project. He jumped and cheered every time Dale made a pass, and when he finished second, he acted like he was actually driving the car. "Dammit, dammit, he lost by a bumper, only a bumper," he said. "That's the car I'm gonna be driving. Just imagine it, imagine me winning the race."

"I'm imagining some things," Jason said. "Oh yeah, I sure am."

Evan followed Jason's line of sight to a girl with a huge chess. "You idiot, you didn't even watch the race."

"I did, I swear I did, but when it ended she started jumping up and down and I got distracted."

“Jeez.”

It was ten o'clock before Cindy strapped into her black and red, Southern Environmental Consultants, number fifteen. Evan and Jason waited for her to give them the thumbs up and lower her visor before they started for the track.

On their way, they ran into ticket girl. She gestured in the direction of her mother, who was watching her father's crew loading up his street stock car. It was the car that beat Dale. He didn't say anything.

Billy Joe was standing right at her side, with a dirty hand print on the front of her shirt, right on her left tit. Ticket girl said, “Gotta go...can't stay for Cindy's race. Mom has a headache or some shit. I hope to see ya'll next week.”

“Yeah, okay,” he said. Now that she was well into Saturday night racing, and covered with the nature of it, he knew she was a naughty girl. Not the kind he'd be allowed to bring home to Papa. His father had once commented about a girl he met at the race track. He told him, “If you want to screw her that's fine, but she's trash. Don't date her.” That was the first time he realized how much he didn't like his father, yet he still lived his life trying to impress him.

When they got to their spot at turn four, Jason said, "Did you see her shirt? You think that was her hand print or someone else's?"

Evan removed an imaginary pipe from his mouth and said, "Well, I can't say for sure, but it's worth an investigation."
They both laughed. "You should have offered to brush it off for her."

"Why didn't I think of that?” Jason smacked his forehead. “Mind if I wipe this dirt off your incredible tit?"

"You might have chosen your words better, but it would've been worth asking."

“Not sure ticket girl would have approved. She seems a little possessive, doesn't she?”

Evan thought so, but before he could say anything, he heard the cars. "Here they come," he said, and pointed to the far side of the track by turn two.

Twenty-four Modified Late-model cars entered the back straightaway and rumbled towards them. "Don't bother trying to talk once the race starts,” Evan said. The cars zigzagged past. "We won't be able to hear each other. You're gonna love this."
The pack of cars came around again and Evan's heart rate increased with the tempo of their engines. The flagman held up one finger. "Next time around they go green."

Bumper to bumper, the cars seem to growl at each other down the back straightaway, all pushing, but held back by the two cars in front. The pressure built in his chest and Evan's fists clenched. "There's Cindy in the middle of the pack, outside row." He stopped breathing when they reached turn four.

The green flag swooped through the air and twenty-four cars lunged for the starting line. The deafening roar paralyzed the crowd. Evan's body shook, his knuckles were white and his eyes followed the number fifteen as it sliced through a cloud of dust.

His fists loosened and he inhaled. The hundred mile-per-hour traffic jam funneled down into turn one, each car finding a spot. Cindy had survived the start and had passed three cars before falling back in line. "She's going to win," he shouted, but nobody could hear him.

Twenty-eight laps and four cautions later, he looked at Jason and said "She's gonna win. You watch what she does when the green flag flies again."

"I know she's good, but she's fifth with only two laps to go," Jason said, and shifted foot to foot. "This is incredible."

"I know. The only thing better than this is fucking..."

“What'd you say?” Jason yelled.

The green flag flew and the fourteen remaining cars screamed out of turn four. Evan jumped up and down, pointing, but his voice was muted by the thundering engines. Cindy pushed under the third-place car and they went three wide past the flag stand. She was in position to steal two spots going into turn one. Or crash. "Watch," he shouted into Jason's ear, "you'll love this."

Cindy came out of the second turn and went wide. She was in third place. The second-place car moved up trying to block her charge, but she dove to the bottom and they went into three together. In the middle of the turn Cindy banged doors with the number eight, and pulled ahead coming out of turn four. Mad Dog Jones, in his number eight, licked his wounds while Cindy caught up to the first place car. The white flew and the number twenty-two and number fifteen sailed into turn one, nose to tail.

She used her momentum to slingshot to the outside of Billy, the bigger of the two Little brothers. Little had race Cindy enough to know her tricks, and he drifted up, pushing her to the wall. She backed off and followed him into turn three, then cut hard and got on the inside edge of Billy in turn four, pulling beside him on the straightaway. Evan punched Jason and threw his fists in the air. The two cars drag raced down the front stretch, rubbing tires all the way to the checkered flag. Little got Cindy by a bumper.

Jason shouted, "Mother fucker! I almost came. What kind of woman is she?"

Evan glanced around to see if anybody was staring, then said, “Come on, let's go! Hurry." He took off towards the pits with Jason in tow.

When they got to the pits, Cindy had climbed out of the car and opened her race suit like a half peeled banana, hanging at her waist. "Uh-oh," Evan said, pointing at the approaching Mad Dog crew. "They don't look happy."

Jason's eyes widened. "Is there gonna be a fight?"

"I hope not," Evan chuckled, "for their sake."

"What kinda fucked up driving was that?" Mad dog Jones asked, with four crew members backing him.

Cindy started forward, and two guys scrambled to catch up with her. "If you'd been driving and not blocking, you might have--"

"Hey," JC said, and stepped between the two crews. "Everybody settle down.” His voice was loud but calm.

Evan glanced at Jason then back at his six foot six, two-hundred-eighty pound uncle who was staring down the five burly men. "This is racing, if you boys want to make it something else--"

"No, no," Mad Dog said. "I just got a little carried away, that's all. Good race."

"Great, thanks, Mad Dog," JC stuck out his giant hand. "You know you've gotten a few that way."

Mad Dog shook hands and said, "Right, yeah, I have. See ya'll next week." Still grumbling under their breath, the men retreated towards their pits.

Jason grabbed Evan's arm. "Is your uncle in the mob?"

“No, he works at the paper mill. Just because someone is Italian, doesn't mean they're in the mob.”

They helped Cindy's crew load up, then hit the road for Jason's house.


Deana woke up panting, in a cold sweat, but she didn't open her eyes or move, she just listened. She wished Evan was home. He couldn't do anything to help her, nor was she allowed to go up to his room after bedtime, but somehow him being there made it better.

After a few minutes, she breathed a sigh of relief and opened her eyes. Nobody was there, so she must have heard the sound in her dreams. It was a tiny groan that one of the boards made if someone stepped on it. Not just anybody, it had to be somebody heavy. Even from the pit of eternal sleep, that tiny sound would resurrect her. It was the sound that she still waited for and feared. She hated it as much as she hated what it meant.

The peering eyes, the shallow breathing and the giant hands that touched her, rolled her and positioned her would be there. Please let it be Evan, she always pleaded with the Angels that never came to save her. She never opened her eyes, unless he made her.

She always pretended to be asleep, hoping he'd go, but the torture of not knowing what was going to happen was worse than anything he ever did to her. If she could just open her eyes and do something that made him happy, then it would be over, and she could sleep, knowing she was safe until the next time. No, he didn't want that, and it would make him mad. She didn't want him mad, only happy.

It didn't matter if she hadn't had to wake up, she would still cry. She was crying now at the memory, even though it hadn't happened for a long time. She was relieved he had stopped visiting, but guilty. She didn't want to be spared at someone else's expense.

Deana had tried to make him love her the way a father should love a daughter, but she could never please him, she was never good enough, and trying had exhausted her and depleted her love for him. If he loved her, it wouldn't be so bad.


On the drive to Jason's house they settled who would shower first. Evan won because he paid, drove and had worked at miss Tonya's earlier.

Evan's fear that Jason's mother would be waiting up to tell him his father had called, had kept him awake on the drive. Now that he knew that hadn't happened, and he was under the hot stream of water, the last of his strengths swirled down the drain with the racetrack dirt. He was exhausted, but everything was right in his world. He was going to drive Dale's car and Cindy had hinted at something she was going to let him know about during the week. Life was good, he thought.

When he was dried off, Evan hung up his towel, put on his shorts, collected his clothes and left the bathroom. He was practically sleepwalking, but he paused outside Becky's door with a desire to peek in. He kept going until he reached Jason's door. Ms. Mary's door was on the end of the hall. If it was open he'd be looking right at her bed. He thought about the time he'd opened the bathroom door in the middle of the night and she was sitting naked on the toilet. Her tits were like torpedoes and her bush was a thick, curly brown triangle. Moments like that can't be erased from your mind.

She has a master bedroom, he thought, yet she was completely naked in Jason and Becky's bathroom. He remembered the red panties for the first time since early that day. Was there something wrong with both their mothers or where they both normal?

When he opened the door, Jason said, "Your bed is ready.” He stared at the Army cot, then at Jason in his underwear, then at Jason's bed a few feet away from the cot.

"What," Jason said, "you want me to put it in the living room? Homophobe."

"Shut up," Evan said. "I'm not sharing a double bed with you. There's no telling what you might do in your sleep."

"I said I was horny enough to fuck a tree knot, not go gay."

"I'll use the cot. It just seems better," he said. "Make sure you let the water beat down on your face for a long time or you'll wake up with dirt scratching your eyeballs."

"It already feels like my eyelids are sandpaper. Racing is fun, but it's nasty getting covered with all that dirt. My hair is crunchy."

"Everything has its drawbacks."

"Not sex," Jason said.

Evan thought about it but didn't comment. "I'm done, got to lay down." He looked at the clock, it read 12:47 AM.

"I'm showering," Jason said, and turned off the overhead light. "Good night."

At 1:20 AM, Evan woke up to change positions. He knew why he'd never join the Army and considered laying on the floor. Jason's bed was still empty. He re-positioned and started to drift off. The door opened, but he pretended to be sound asleep. Any interaction now might make him too awake to fall asleep with that bar digging into his hip.

Jason was between him and the nightstand light, wearing a towel. Long shower, he thought. Jason took off his towel. The silhouette of his cock and balls hanging between his legs made Evan blink hard, but he didn't close his eyes. It was fascinating to see such a huge dick when nobody knew he was looking.

His friend turned around. He closed his eyes, but not fast enough. He got an eye full of Jason's uncircumcised cock jutting out from a mat of brown hair. He squinted through one eye. The reddish-purple knob was poking out of its sheath. So much for shrinkage, Jason seemed to be partially erect. The thought embarrassed him, and he would never admit he had it, but he did. He thought, maybe he was jerking off in the shower. Then he imagined Jason also stopped at Becky's door, except he opened it. Maybe Becky gave Jason that blow job he said he would get?

Jason pulled up a pair of boxers and stuffed the mule inside, then got in bed. The lamp clicked off in the room was dark. Note to self, Evan thought, never have a threesome with Jason. Not that any girl would ever let him put that thing into her pussy.

Evan didn't know what time it was, nor did he care. He needed water to wash the dirt out of his mouth. He groaned and used his right arm to throw his left arm over the side of the cot. The pins and needles were painful. He wiggled his fingers trying to encourage blood flow. The clock read 7:11 AM. It was too early, but he couldn't spend any more time on the torture bed. As soon as he could feel all of his limbs, he was going to pee and brush his teeth, then he'd get dressed and go home for some real sleep.

It took a minute in front of the toilet to get his morning wood lowered. When he was done, he looked in the mirror, it was fogged around the corners, but he could see his face well enough to know how tired he still was. He wouldn't even bother to tell Jason he was leaving. No sense ruining his sleep, too. He brushed his teeth, drank some water and went to get dressed.

On his way back to Jason's room, he paused again at Becky's door, remembering how long Jason had been gone and his cock hanging down when he finally returned. It didn't seem likely, but it was exciting to imagine it. The door was open an inch. He knew better, but he pressed his finger against it and looked through the widening gap. Becky was standing in front of a large oval mirror. The antique frame was a rich cherry wood, taller than Becky. It was inappropriate in her room. Her chestnut hair looked darker and it was wetting the back of her shirt as she brushed it. He eased into the room, and when he was five feet away, he said, "Mirror mirror on the antique frame, show me how to rule the world." He expected her to scream, or at least jump, but she didn't.

“Close the door,” she said, into the mirror. “Why are you up so early?”

He suddenly felt uncomfortable in her room with only his cotton shorts on. They weren't much more than boxers, and he hadn't put on a shirt. “I gotta go home and get some sleep. What are you doing up so early?”

"I woke up," she said, and whipped her hair. Drops of water hit him. "This is my magic mirror."

The smell of fruity fresh shampoo woke him up a little more. Gloria used that same shampoo, when she wasn't using Deana's. "Really, what can it do?"

"It makes cute boys appear while I'm brushing my hair." Becky giggled, and kept watching him in the mirror.

He wanted to tell her how cute she looked, but he said, “Where, I don't see anybody.” He regretted coming in her room, but he stayed standing right behind her, holding his toothbrush and looking at her in the mirror. Her shirt ended just below her crotch, and he had to assume he knew what was under it. Definitely not a bra, he could see that already, but were there any panties? Somehow, he doubted it, and that should have made him run, but he stayed.

“Funny,” she said.

“You look pretty in there...in the morning.” Did he just say that? Becky's smile said he had, and he wanted his words back. You're too tired to make rational decisions, go home.

Becky licked her lips and said, “Thank you, I'm glad you think so.”

Whose hands are those on her waist? They were his, but seeing them in the mirror made them seem like someone else's hands. He squeezed her narrow waist, and moved his fingers further around to her stomach. She watched them, and inched back towards him. Her breasts seemed to grow, pushing out dark points against her white shirt.

“Mmm, that's nice,” she said.

He was telling himself to get out of there before this funny little game got out of hand, but his hands were both on her stomach, pressing in, moving her back against his body. The edge of her shirt rose and fell, flirting with her crotch. He could easily answer his question about her underwear. “I should go,” he said.

“Not yet,” she said, and leaned back, tilting her head far enough to look up at him. Her wet hair was cool on his shoulder. She put her hands on top of his. “You ever think about that time we kissed?”

“Um—“ he looked away from her eyes into the mirror and saw his hands moving up—“I have.” He had often, but he wasn't going to admit it. If she kept moving his hands, they would be on her tits and her shirt wouldn't be covering her crotch.

“Me, too,” she said, and turned around in his arms. “I think we should do it again.” She rose up on her toes, and leaned in. He watched in the mirror what she couldn't see, the bottom of her ass globes. No panties.

“Might not be a good idea,” he said, and wrapped his hands around the small of her back. He squeezed and intentionally lifted, completely uncovering her ass. It was pale, firm and incredibly sexy. His hands remembered how it had felt with denim shorts on. He wanted to feel it the way it was now, bare. He wanted to slide his fingers through the white valley between her cheeks, and find the silky, smooth ring of her anus. “Definitely not a good idea.”

“It won't hurt,” she said, and pushed up a little more. “Just one, that's all.”

There was no doubt in his mind that it would be easier to have one Doritos chip than one Becky kiss, but he wanted to do it again. There was something about the way she was looking at him, and something about doing it behind Jason's back, while their mother was home, that made it seem like it would be the most erotic kiss of his life. Living dangerously was growing on him. Becky tasted like strawberry lip gloss, and her tongue was seductive.

Becky's arms tightened around him, and she pulled herself up into the kiss. He could feel the hardness of her nipples against his chest, and the drum beat of her heart. He reached and filled his hands with that firm, little ass. She moaned into his mouth. He lifted and pulled her groin into his. The soft crowns of her butt flexed, and pushed into his grasp. He could feel her body twisting, hunching and grinding on his erection.

He realized it was only his flimsy shorts that separated his dick from her flesh, and her movements seemed determined to remove the barrier. But to what end? Did she want to have sex? “Ahhh, Becky...we shouldn't.”

“Mmm, we should,” she said, in a voice he didn't recognize. “We definitely should.”

He adjusted his grip, and got a better hold of her butt. His fingers went deep, way down past her puckered ass-hole. The heat and wetness surprised him, but he didn't pull away. His index finger pushed inside the slippery folds of flesh. She meant it, she really meant they should definitely do it. “Your brother, what about Jason?”

“He doesn't care,” Becky said. “I'm old enough, if I want to, what would he care, or my mother for that matter.”

“We could get caught,” he said. “Anybody could catch us.”

“Ah, that feels so good,” she said, and jerked her pelvis so more of his finger went inside her. “He won't get up and my mother will knock.”

Evan watched his hands working, and tried to envision the tight little hole his finger was poking into. It would feel so good on his cock, if he could manage to get it in her. If Ms. Mary knocked and he was sliding his dick in and out of her daughter, how long would she wait to open the door? It might be fine with her that Becky had sex, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop fucking her. Surely her mother wouldn't want to watch her daughter get fucked.

“I can feel you,” she said. “I feel how hard it is.” She created enough space between them to slip her hand in, and inside his shorts. “It's rock hard.”

His dick was so hot that Becky's hand felt cold, but it warmed in an instant, and it was soft, sliding up and down his prick. Jason's little sister, the previously annoying teen, was now a sexual creature, and she wasn't inexperienced. How long had she been like this, he wondered.

He grabbed the bottom of her shirt and lifted. She raised her arms and suddenly she was nude. His heart jumped at the transformation. Her breasts were small hills, topped with the most amazing tit caps he'd ever seen in real life. The whole top of her tits were cone shaped nipples, pulsing with her excitement. He grabbed one between his thumb and forefinger. It responded by swelling even further. He licked his lips and dipped down to take it into his mouth. Becky moaned, and shoved her chest into his face. He sucked hard and filled his mouth. He reached for her crotch.

Becky's pussy was more than a handful, and it was hot, and wet. His finger traced the moist line forward, then back again. Her body jerked and she sucked in a long fast breath. The inner flesh was even hotter, and it was wetter than a girl had ever been for him. He hadn't even fingered her yet and she was dripping.

“I want to watch,” she said, in a pleading voice. “I want to see it happen.”

“What?”

“This,” she said, and moved. “Get behind me so I can see what you're doing.” Evan did what she asked. He had never been with a girl who gave him directions, and he had no idea how much he didn't know about sex yet.

When he was kneeling behind her, he kissed the sensual inward curve of her back, and admired her perky little butt. He looked past her body at her reflection. It was the most erotic moment of his life to date. He watched himself kiss her hip as his hand came around the other hip. It moved like it wasn't his own, confusing his senses because he could feel the tickle of her chestnut fuzz.

Becky's feet moved apart. “Touch it, reach between my legs and touch me. I want to watch it, see it all happen in the magic mirror. I've always wanted to do this.”

He shivered, knowing the mirror had already showed her how to rule the world. He had never wanted to fuck any girl as much as he wanted to fuck Jason's sister right now. His thick middle finger opened her juicy slit, moved around until he found the spot, then he pushed up into her body. Becky tilted the mirror for a better view and opened her legs even more. She was fascinated by the sight of his finger driving in and out of her pussy hole.

Her plump, inflamed pussy lips surrounded his knuckles and her juices drooled onto his hand. She moaned and gyrated to enhance the finger fucking. How could this girl be that annoying Becky he'd avoided and ignored for the last five years? What happened to her?

He could smell her lust before his lips reached her sweet little ass cheek. He kissed it, licked it, sucked in the curved crest, and nibbled it with his teeth. “Ah, yeah,” she said. “Suck it hard, bite it, and leave a mark.” He did as he was told, and gave her a hickey on her left ass cheek.

The inward slopes of her ass valley were the softest thing that had ever touched his face. Becky arched forward and shoved back, smashing his face into her ass. He grabbed her hips and thrust his tongue into the liquid fire of her pussy and dragged upward until it found her butt-hole. It was a dime size, silky ring, and her body responded to every lick. He circled it, and poked it. Becky moaned and started fingering herself.

She whispered, “I want you.”

The throbbing, painful erection in his shorts couldn't have agreed more. He stood up quickly and faced her. Her fingers tucked under the waistband of his shorts and circled his body, slowly lowering his shorts until his boner sprang up. He looked down at his dick standing inches away from her stomach. He watched her hands move to it, take hold of it and squeeze it. “Wow, it's bigger than I thought.”

“You thought,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, I felt it at the ballpark,” she said. “I felt how hard it was and it felt big under me, rubbing on me. You could have done it that day. I would have let you.”

He had wanted to, but he didn't admit it. He took her face in his hands and got some more courage from one of her passionate kisses. His body hunched and his dick slid across her belly. Without breaking the kiss, he turned her and moved her a few feet to the bed. When the back of her legs touched it, instead of sitting down, she said, “Not that way. I want the top.”

Son-of-a-bitch, he thought; Jason's sister knew what she wanted and she wasn't afraid to ask for it. He sat down. Becky put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back as she climbed on top of him. The luscious, wet trench of her crotch draped the ridge of his cock base, close to his tight balls. She grasped his chest and slid her pussy up and down his shaft. He watched her face, looked into her eyes, and knew she wasn't going to have sex with him, she was going to fuck him.

Becky's pelvis moved in a sexy dance. He watched the V between her hips, the mound of her pussy and the groove under her pubic bone. Her clit must have been smashed against his cock, and she was enjoying herself. He wanted to grab her and shove her down, ram his cock into the tunnel his finger had been in. She was torturing him.

The juicy flaps of her cunt wrapped the sensitive knob of his dick and he almost cried out. Becky kept on riding the whole length, but each time she came forward he was closer to his target. She lifted up and reached between her legs, while looking over her shoulder in the mirror. Her hand tightened around his wet dick, and she lifted him. His head was pressed into the channel of flesh, sliding back and forth until the tip was wedged into the tight ring of her pussy. “Mmmm, this is gonna be good,” Becky said, and applied more pressure.

His finger had gone in easily, and Becky was flooded and ready, but he still saw the strain on her face and felt his cock head mushroom, before it popped into heaven. “Ahhh, shit...it's big, nice and big.”

Becky worked it, taking a little more each time she lowered her crotch. He grabbed a wad of sheet in each fist, and watched. Normally, he was so excited to be getting it, that he'd rush through it without paying attention, but seeing his cock slide up into Becky's body was a miraculous thing. Her body was opening up for him, taking him inside and giving him pleasure. There was so much more to sex than thrusting and cumming. He knew that now.

When Becky finally sat all the way down, she stopped and stayed there. Her face grimaced with a crooked smile, and her stomach muscles rippled. Her nipples erected to another degree of ridiculously amazing. She arched backwards and pressed her hand against her groin. “Holy shit, I can feel you all the way up here. Feel it.”

He reached and she took his hand and pressed it against her, then humped gently, leaning back even more. “Ah, ah, that's the spot. You're hitting my spot. Oh, yes, yeah.”

He thought she might have been getting off, but he knew for sure he was about to. “I, ah, I'm going to...I can't wait.”
“Yes, oh yes, do it with me, cum with me...I wanna feel you shooting in me when I'm cumming.”

“But—“

“It's okay, you can, it's safe,” she said, and increased the speed of her undulation.

He didn't bother to think about it, he just enjoyed it. Her insides were like a fist clamping down, jerking him off and making him cum. He let it happen. His balls tingled and his cock swelled, jerked and fired the first blast of his orgasm. Immediately, it got easier for Becky to slide up and down, and that's what she did, all the way through his climax and beyond. She took longer, more violent strides, and slapped down on his groin, over and over.

He thought she didn't know he'd already gotten off, but then she stopped and fell in a heap on his chest. “I, ah...I have never—“ She exhaled hard and stopped trying to speak. He put his hands on her butt and held her.

He had never been fucked like that before, and he should never be fucked by Becky again. If Jason found out, that would open the door to Deana, and there was no way he was going to let Jason put the mule inside Deana. He loved her too much to let anybody hurt her. “I better go,” he said. “Jason can't know about this. We had an agreement about our sisters and I just violated it. Can we keep this between us?”

“He wouldn't care,” she said. “He's not like you, but that's fine, I'm good at keeping secrets.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I better go before someone catches us.”

“Mm, that's exciting to think about. It's more fun when it's dangerous. Don't you think?”

He did, but he didn't admit it. “I'll see you later.” He put on his shorts and left her naked on the bed, still staring in the mirror.


When the door clicked shut, Becky grabbed her sore pussy. It was wet with the overflow of their orgasms. She massaged it and relived the moment Evan swelled. It seemed like he doubled in size, then all the pain was gone. A wonderful, soothing liquid squirted into her. It pressurized her tube and rushed down, lubricating her pussy walls and she came again for the third time.

That was the first time she had ever let a boy come inside her without a rubber. She hated rubbers now. Hopefully, she could get on the pill before the next time she fucked Evan. She didn't like that sponge thing, either.

Evan had been bigger than she'd imagined, but also harder than she thought possible. She wondered if it would go down her throat. Jason was thicker and longer, but his Dick stayed malleable. Evan's cock was like a Wiffle ball bat.

Becky got to her feet and wobbled, then she walked over to her dresser. She had a perfect view in the mirror while it was happening, but she also had a profile view of the action. She moved the shirt that hid the GoPro camera and switched it off. She wanted to watch it right away, but she wouldn't. It would get better and more exciting with time, and with Darlene.

She was drunk with her sense of satisfaction, and sleepy like she should be after such a long night and a good morning fuck. She laid on the bed, face down, still naked and not planning to spoil a good thing until she had to.

That morning, things turned out better than she had planned. In her head, she checked two items off her sexual bucket list. The next one would be huge, and the most challenging, but she had a plan. This summer vacation is going to be one to remember, she mused.

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