Melinda hurried about the next morning with an urgency that bordered on frantic. She wanted to get down to the house early, before Jason got there. She wanted some time to herself with the house and get it to do what she wanted.

There was another reason for her rush. Now that she had had a glimpse of what her room could be like if she did not have her sister around, she hated being reminded of what she was forced to accept as a poor substitute at home. The sunlight trying to stream around the edges of the closed blinds was just another reminder of this. Heather did not even want so much as the blinds raised, lest it fade her precious posters.

As she was about to head out of the room, her sister's muffled voice floated up to her from below. Heather was already on the phone again.

Melinda looked back towards the bay window. In a fit of spite, she crossed the room and yanked hard on the cord, raising the blinds as far as they would go. She squinted as the room was flooded with sunlight. She grinned to herself, knowing that Heather would hate it when she saw the sunlight shining directly on half her posters.

Melinda rushed back over to the door and dashed out of her room and down the stairs. She did not even so much as glance at her sister, though Heather's eyes warily tracked Melinda as she rounded the bottom step and sped past with nothing more than a perfunctory wave.

"See ya later, blabbermouth," Melinda piped as she passed.

"Hang on," Heather said into the phone before bolting up from her chair. She clamped the phone to her chest and caught up with Melinda halfway to the door, grabbing her arm and spinning her around. "Where do you think you're going, runt?"

Melinda's eyes flashed anger. "Out," she said simply.

"It's Friday. Mom's not here today, she's working."

"So? You forgot our deal already?"

"So where are you going?"

"None of your damn business."

"No, it is my business, Melinda. I'm supposed to look after you, Mom said."

Melinda folded her arms. "And what are you going to do? Punish me if I don't tell you?" she said defiantly. "Maybe Mom will be interested in what you and Brad are doing."

"Don't threaten me, Mel," Heather said warningly.

"Then stop acting like a bossy bitch."

Melinda realized this was precisely the wrong thing to say to her sister at this point, but it was not in time to stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth. "Go to you room," Heather snapped.

Melinda stared, stricken. "What?!"

"You're hanging out with me today."

"No!"

Heather had already turned away from her little sister and put the phone back up to her ear. "Sorry about that, Diane. Yeah, the runt was giving me trouble as always. She ..."

"You can't do this!" Melinda screeched.

" ... thinks she can get her way just because she's the baby of the family. I can't tell you how ..."

Melinda rushed up to Heather and gave her a vicious shove. "You promised!" Melinda cried shrilly. "You said I could go out! We made a deal!"

"Melinda, stop it!" Heather shouted.

"I will not stop! You told me I could go! You can't go back on it! I'll tell Mom everything! I'll tell you her brought me along, too, and that I saw it myself!"

"Melinda!"

Melinda quieted, giving her sister a hurt look. She resisted the urge to glance at the clock, knowing it was already later than she had planned to leave. She could not let Heather do this to her. She had to get to that house before Jason did.

Heather sighed. "Look, Diane, I'll call you back. I have to deal with the crybaby again." She clicked the "off" button on the handset.

"I am not a crybaby!" Melinda bellowed.

"Melinda, shut up for a minute! All right, you want to go out. But you're going to tell me exactly what you're going to be doing."

"Why?"

"Because I'm your older sister and I said so."

Melinda's mind raced to come up with a convincing lie. She tried very hard not to think about what she intended to do, or, for that matter, the events of the day before. Either would surely make her blush and give herself away. "All I want to do is take a walk, hang out, that sort of thing," she said in a weak voice. "I'm not doing anything wrong!"

Heather folded her arms. "I ran into Richie Gardner yesterday afternoon."

Melinda said nothing. She maintained a steady gaze with her sister, though her heart hammered in her chest.

"He said he saw you with Jason."

"Yeah, so?" Melinda snapped immediately.

"He made some jokes about what you and he were doing together."

Now Melinda could not help but blush, and tried to cover it by saying, "Uh, yeah, he poked fun at us, too, about ... a-about that."

Heather remained quiet for a long moment. "He was just kidding, right?"

Melinda gave Heather a shocked look. She did not have to fake it all that much. Nothing that had happened -- or that was going to happen, if Melinda made it to the house on time -- was anything like what she believed Heather and Brad had been doing. Jason had never touched her, as far as she could tell, and she had no intention of touching him either.

"Of course he was kidding!" Melinda finally said in a voice that held conviction, yet also quavered slightly. Briefly, she entertained the notion of what it might be like to actually do something like that with Jason, causing a flash of heat over her skin. She quickly shoved the thought aside. That was not something she should be thinking about, she was sure.

"Then what are you two doing together?"

"Just hanging out, that's all! Jesus, Heather, not everyone goes horizontal with a boy like you do."

"Don't be a smart-ass, Mel."

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? And I'm sorry for calling you a bitch, too. Really, I-I'm not doing anything like that with him. I don't intend to. I'm only thirteen and he's fourteen! Jeez!"

"So are you going to hang out with him today?"

"Yes. And don't insist on knowing where we're going. I don't know. We just hang out, that's all."

There was a long pause. In her mind, Melinda kept pushing at the thought please believe me over and over. Her heart was pounding by this time, as she was anxious that Heather was about to screw up all her plans.

"All right," Heather said finally. "Get out of here. And don't forget to meet me before Mom gets home."

"Right, I will. Thanks," Melinda said quickly, turning and rushing out the door before Heather could change her mind.

Heather watched her go. Her lips drew together into a small frown. She lifted the phone to her mouth and fingered the speed-dial. "Diane? Yeah, it's me again ... yeah, I dealt with it, sort of." Her eyes narrowed, still staring at the front door. "Mel's up to something, Diane. I can see it in her eyes. She's hiding something from me. I just don't know what it is yet."

Jason was able to catch up with his online forums that morning with no complaints from his mother. She was so delighted when she heard that for the second day in a row Jason was voluntarily going to be spending the day outside that she let him have free reign on the internet for a little while.

In reality, Jason was in no hurry. He was not completely convinced that Melinda would even be there. She had not wanted to meet him at the intersection like the day before, insisting that she would just see him at the house. The thought that Melinda would now hate him once she had had a chance to think about it weighed heavily on his mind.

As the clock approached ten of nine, Jason shut off his monitor and headed out of the house. Halfway down the walk, he hesitated a moment when he saw Richie leaning against the lamp post just to one side of the driveway.

"Yo," Richie called out with a smirk.

"Uh, hi," Jason said awkwardly. "Um ... another fantastic game to tell me about?"

Jason tried to sound as if he were even remotely interested, but was grateful when Richie shook his head. "Nah, man, we didn't play yesterday."

Jason glanced around, realizing that this was the first time he had seen Richie without the dog. "Where's Tramp?"

"His name's Chicken now, since that's what he is," Richie scoffed. "He broke and ran soon as I got anywhere near that intersection up there. Any idea what's spookin' him?"

"No idea," Jason lied.

"Dumb-shit dog. Anyway, you doing anything today?"

"Uh, yeah, I am." Jason turned and started walking up the street, towards the intersection. He walked purposefully, hoping Richie would just take the hint. "So I'll see you later."

Richie instead fell into step next to him. "So what do you have planned?"

"Uh ... just ... stuff."

Richie smirked. "Would that 'stuff' happen to be Melinda?"

Jason stopped and turned towards his friend. "No!"

"Hey, relax, dude. No skin off my nose if you and her ..."

"No more jokes, okay? I told you I'm not doing anything with her!"

"Hey, sure, fine, okay. Shit, what's with you?"

"Nothing."

"So what are you gonna be doing today?"

Jason sighed. He wished Richie would just leave him alone for once. All the times in the past when Jason really needed to be with a friend, Richie seemed to have his own thing to do. Yes, having Richie around to protect him from bullies was nice, but sometimes that was not enough. If all Richie was going to be was a fair-weather friend, Jason had his doubts as to how much he really needed Richie after all.

"You don't have to hang out with me."

"Yeah, I know I don't have to. Maybe I want to."

Jason sensed something from Richie. He wasn't sure if it were Richie's attitude or the tone of his voice, but Jason didn't like it just the same. "Maybe later."

Richie paused for a moment. His lips curled slowly into a sly grin. "I ran into Heather yesterday."

Jason's eyebrows lifted. "You did?"

"Oh, yeah. We talked about you."

Jason said nothing.

"You wanna know what she said?"

"I have an idea," Jason said bitterly.

"Maybe you do and maybe you don't," Richie said with an enigmatic smile.

Jason sighed. "Okay, what did she say?"

"Hang out with me today and you'll find out."

"Did ... did she say something nice?"

Richie just grinned all the more.

Jason gave him a frustrated look, but it altered Richie's expression not one iota. He had no idea why he continued to hold out any hope, but after seeing those pictures of her, pictures that he was sure would be etched into his brain until the day he died, he simply could not stop thinking about her. Even now, just the fleeting thought of her excited him.

Then there was Melinda.

(She is here. Heather is not.)

Melinda had done for him what Heather likely would never do in a million years. For a moment it did not matter to him that it had not been entirely willing on her part. What mattered was that it had happened, and he secretly harbored the wish to have it happen again despite his guilt over it.

Maybe it would, if Melinda really did show up at the house that day. Maybe the house would make her do it again for him. That was certainly more than he was getting with Heather. It wouldn't be his fault if Melinda showed up and the house did as it pleased.

"Maybe some other time," Jason finally said, and turned away, walking towards the intersection again.

Richie had an astonished look on his face as he watched Jason's receding back.

Jason was rejecting him? That made no sense. What's more, Jason had no right to do so. Richie was his protector. Richie was the one in charge. It was one thing not to want to go watch a game, but it was another thing entirely to just give him the cold shoulder.

Jason needed Richie. That was the way Richie wanted it. Despite the number of times Richie had chided Jason for not sticking up for himself, Richie enjoyed the role of his defender. It made Jason dependent on him in some fashion.

Surprise quickly turned to anger, and Richie raced up to Jason, standing in his way and giving him a shove to one shoulder. Jason reacted to this with surprise and a small amount of fear.

"So what it is?" Richie demanded. "You still sore at me for yesterday? It was just a fucking joke!"

"I know it was. No, I'm not mad at you."

"Then what the fuck's wrong with you, man?"

Jason frowned. "Nothing. I just ... I just want to do my own thing today, okay?"

Richie stared at him for a moment, then pressed his lips together tightly and sighed through his nose. "Yeah, sure," he said in a low voice. "Sure, man."

Jason swallowed, then edged slowly around Richie and continued on his way.

"You know, if it was Melinda, you could tell me," Richie called out from behind him. "I'd understand that."

Jason just kept walking, quickening his pace.

Richie scowled at him behind his back. Something else was going on here. It had to be. Jason still needed him. He'd never be able to handle all the bullies at school otherwise. It had to have something to do with Melinda. Heather had looked a little uneasy when she heard Richie joke about it. Maybe she knew something he didn't.

Richie waited until Jason was far enough ahead until he almost just disappeared behind the curve of the street, then began to follow him.

Melinda entered the house more easily this time, her reaction to the sight of the open door attenuated to little more than a lingering knot of anxiety in her stomach. She overcame this quickly, and soon stood in the quaint, deceptively innocuous living room, just as she had the day before.

She looked around. She had made it here before Jason, just as she wanted. However, now that she was here, she was not sure what to do.

"Uh ... h-hello? House? You there?"

Melinda would have felt utterly foolish in the next minute had she not received any sort of response. Even then, the sound of the voice in her head made her jump.

Hello, Melinda.

Her heart fluttered. "You're ... y-you're the voice I heard. Yesterday, up in the bedroom."

Yes, that was me.

Melinda swallowed hard. "You made me do that. Right in front of him."

Silence.

"You did! I know you did!"

More silence.

"Or ... that's what Jason said," Melinda said in a weaker voice.

It was what Jason wanted, you see.

Melinda flinched. "He ... he wanted me to do that? He wanted to watch me t-touch myself? In front of him?"

Oh, yes. I merely helped him get what he wanted, that's all. He rather enjoyed it, it seems.

Melinda's eyes burned. "Did he just trick me into coming here? Did he make up all of that about the pictures of Heather?"

She heard nothing in response. She took a deep breath and let it go, her fingers curling into fists. When the voice sounded in her head again, it took on a tone that was both sultry and conspiratorial.

Do you want to watch him? Do you want to see his cock like he saw your pussy?

Melinda blushed in embarrassment at the very thought, yet there was no mistaking the sharp rise of anticipation inside her. "Yes," she said in a low but decisive voice. "Yes, I do."

The more she thought about it, the more it excited her. Despite all the lustful thoughts she entertained over the past year, they were heavy on concept and vague on detail. She had only a very rough idea of what to expect. She was not ignorant of the anatomy, but she had never seen so much as a picture of a man in a sexual context.

It was not that she lacked the means. She knew quite well that she had such things available to her with only a few mouse clicks on the computer. Where she shared the PC with her sister, however, she could not take the risk that there would be even the slightest evidence left behind of what she had done.

If it were bad enough that Heather knew of Melinda's self-explorations, it would be far worse if Melinda were caught doing that as well!

Now she had the chance to see for herself, and no one had to know, except for Jason himself. He was not likely to tell anyone, not if he didn't want her to tell what he had done to her.

He can do more than simply perform for you, Melinda. Much more.

Melinda's heart raced. "What do you mean?" she asked in a small voice.

You can have him give you pleasure more ... directly. Wouldn't you like that?

She squeezed her legs together. She felt very warm.

He can touch you, the voice continued, dropping into husky, sensuous tones. Skillfully. Wonderfully. Far more enjoyable than anything you've ever done to yourself.

Melinda was panting lightly. She went from warm to hot, moisture gathering in her nether regions. "N-no," she said firmly, though there was a clear undertone of reluctance. "Not yet ... I ... I'm not ready for that yet."

"Not ready for what yet?"

Melinda gasped and spun around. Jason was standing just inside the door.

Jason stared at Melinda for a few moments, then glanced around the room. "Who are you talking to?" he asked.

"N-no one!" Melinda croaked. "Myself. I-I was talking to myself."

Jason looked at her again, trying to read her face. His social skills were inept enough that this was difficult for him. Nevertheless, he could not shake the feeling that something was not right.

Bring him up to the bedroom.

Melinda almost nodded at this but caught herself in time, her head just giving a tiny jerk instead. Her heart beat so hard that she could feel it thump in her chest.

Jason continued to stare at her, making her fidget nervously. "How long have you ...?"

"We should go look for those pictures again," Melinda interrupted quickly.

"Pictures? I don't even think they're here anymore."

"Were they ever?" Melinda snapped before she could stop herself.

"What? Yes, of course they were!"

I think he's a liar.

"Liar," Melinda said automatically.

Jason gaped at her. "Melinda, those pictures were here! I swear they were!"

Prove it.

"Prove it."

"All right, fine! We'll go look for them again!" Jason stormed angrily out of the room and towards the stairs. Melinda allowed herself a tiny smile behind his back as she trotted along behind him, following in his wake as he bounded up the stairs in a huff.

They found the door again ajar, and Jason simply burst in, pushing the door open with enough force to cause it to bang against the wall. It made a very familiar sound, which only reinforced the reality of what he now saw. "Look, Melinda, it's changed. It's back to my room again!"

Melinda stepped in from behind him and looked around. She had to put her hand over her mouth briefly to stifle a giggle. Save for the exact arrangement of the furniture, it was much like she had pictured it, knowing what she did about Jason. As much as she might like him, she could not help but find this blatant monument to geekdom amusing.

Jason was not paying attention to her, for his eyes had fallen upon the desk by the window and the leather-bound book that lay upon it. He crossed the room in a few long, hasty strides and seized it tightly in his fingers. He slowly turned with the book in his hands, his mouth open slightly, his pulse quickening. He cradled it on one arm as he turned the cover back with his other hand.

He breathed a deep sigh. "Yes, this is it," he said in a near whisper. He flipped through the pages. They were exactly as he remembered them, with Heather in her all her nude and provocative glory. "I knew I had seen this."

"Here, let me see," Melinda said, curious. She stepped forward, Jason meeting her halfway near the foot of his bed. He paused a moment before handing it to her, as if reluctant to give it up. He shifted nervously, his cock already responding to the brief glimpse of the pages.

Melinda opened the book and immediately gasped loudly, her eyes wide. Her cheeks glowed as she turned the pages. "Oh my God ... " she murmured.

Jason sat down heavily on the foot of his bed, uncomfortable pressure growing in his jeans as his cock expanded to full hardness. "That's her, right? Please tell me that's her."

Melinda looked up and nodded. "Yeah, that's her. I recognize the small mole on her thigh." She turned another page and reached the section where Heather had started to masturbate. She uttered a small "eep" sound and slapped the book closed. "Holy shit," she muttered in a quavering voice.

Jason felt incredibly hard, too much to remain comfortable sitting down. He pulled himself fully onto his bed and sprawled out on his back. He removed one of his sneakers by pushing the toe of the other against the heel, and the other by hooking the heel on the bedpost. It was exactly what he would have done in his own house.

You can't stop thinking about those pictures, came the voice in the back of his mind.

"I can't stop thinking about those pictures," Jason said in a soft voice. He felt his mind drifting, his body floating, as if in a dream.

Melinda looked down at the book again. "Jason, I don't think she ever posed for anything like this," she said. "I mean, she ... well, she's doing it with her boyfriend, but I ..."

Heather is so sexy.

"Heather is so sexy," Jason murmured in a breathy voice, staring up at the ceiling. His breath grew short, his legs shifting restlessly on the bed. The bulge under the crotch of his jeans was very pronounced, his cock pulsing against his briefs with his heartbeat.

Melinda looked crossly at him. "Oh, yeah, sure. You didn't seem to think about that yesterday when you were watching me ..."

You need relief.

"Shit, I need relief ..."

Melinda stopped. "Huh? Jason, what ..."

She trailed off, and the book slipped from her fingers and fell noisily to the floor.

In Jason's mind, he was back in his own room, alone. His parents were out. He had the whole house to himself. Which was just as well, for he was too excited to think straight. He had to have some relief. The alternative was to distract himself with something else, only to feel a lingering ache afterward after having been so hard for so long.

He loved it when it was like this, when he did not have to wait until dark. He loved having the freedom to do it at his own pace, and to not have to worry about how loud he was, or what he might say as he played out his fantasies in his head.

Even as these thoughts crossed his mind, he had started to undo his belt.

Despite the fact that this was exactly what Melinda wanted to see, an initial look of shock crossed her face. Jason pulled down his zipper and slid his pants down his legs, revealing a large, tented bulge in his briefs. Melinda's legs went weak. She backed up towards the desk and reached out a shaking hand for the chair, collapsing into it.

Somewhere in Melinda's mind, she knew this was wrong. He was being forced to do this for her benefit. Yet she was far too excited -- and too curious -- to make him stop.

Melinda's jaw slowly dropped as Jason grasped the waistband of his briefs and pulled it down from his hips. She could not help but stare at his cock as it popped out from under his briefs. It was larger than she had expected it to be. The clinical pictures she had seen before of a man's penis always showed it flaccid. She knew it expanded when aroused, but she had no idea it did so to this degree.

She could not take her eyes from it, or the two balls that hung beneath it, covered with wiry black hair. As he tossed his briefs over the side and lay back on the bed, she saw it pulsing lightly. She wondered at this until she realized it was his heartbeat causing it, and somehow she found that highly erotic.

Yet nothing compared to the experience of seeing Jason's fingers slip around his stiff member. He slowly stroked the shaft, running steadily up and down the entire length, moving with sensuous skill and deliberate pace. He uttered low, soft moans.

Melinda's body quivered in the chair, her cunt nearly as wet as it had been the day before when she was the one giving the show. She spread her legs apart to relieve the pressure, barely resisting the urge to touch herself.

Jason wrapped his fingers more tightly around his cock, stroking fully and steadily, his moans constant and growing louder. He reached his other hand between his legs and fondled his balls, playing with them, bouncing them on his fingers. Melinda uttered a small whimper. This was arousing her far more than she ever thought it would. Despite the fact that she had her hands curled into tight fists in her effort to resist masturbating, she felt as if she were stroking herself anyway.

It took her a few seconds to realize that this was because her pussy was being stroked.

It felt just like two fingers had slipped between her labia, sliding back and forth over her slick, needful flesh. In a brief panic she clutched at the crotch of her shorts, but it did not stop it in the least, making her pant as she slowly rose.

You will enjoy the show far more this way.

For a moment, Melinda was frightened. The house was exerting a measure of control over her again, if only in body rather than in mind. Yet the pleasure she was experiencing, both at watching Jason and at the unseen touch to her pussy, was too enjoyable to make her demand that it stop.

And not once in all of this did her eyes ever leave Jason's cock.

Jason panted heavily, his hand moving faster, his strokes growing deeper. His other hand wrapped his fingers around his scrotum, tugging his balls from his body, making them swell slightly. "Oh yeah ..." Jason breathed. "Oh shit ... oh yeah ... "

Melinda moaned, her thighs parting further, her hips sliding forward in the chair. Her cunt made soft squishing noises as it was stroked faster. She gripped the hand rests tightly, her body shaking.

Before long, Jason's mutterings dissolved, breaking up into louder and more urgent moans, his body writhing crazily on the bed. He panted hard and fast, his fingers jerking up and down on his cock. All remaining delicacy and purposefulness was thrown to the wind as he rose, straining for final relief.

Melinda gasped as the immaterial touch concentrated completely on her clit, pressing firmly into her, moving with rapid, short strokes. "Uhhh ..." she groaned softly, despite her attempts to remain quiet. Please, she thought desperately in her head, let him cum first! Please!

Melinda so wanted to see that final part before she was too distracted with her own climax to pay attention. As her body tensed and the pressure grew in her pussy, she saw Jason arch his back suddenly, his hand moving in a blur, pumping his cock furiously as he rose to the very edge. The next moment, his moans coalesced into one single, deep and guttural groan, his hips pistoning as he crested over into orgasm. His thick seed came in spurts from the end of his cock, flowing hot over his fingers and down the sides of his shaft.

Melinda watched in rapt amazement at this sight, until she reached her own peak. She let out a short, sharp cry as her pussy began to throb, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She tossed her head back, finally breaking eye contact with him.

Jason's moans grew fainter, his body and mind descending from their orgasmic high. Then there was only the sound of his still-labored breathing, his fingers falling away from his softening penis. Melinda's climax abated at almost the same time, her throbs fading, leaving her panties uncomfortably damp against her crotch and the crease of her thighs.

Neither of them moved for the next few moments, silence following in the wake of their fading moans. Finally, Jason began to emerge from his daze, blinking rapidly as he struggled to sit up. His head rose first, his eyes falling on his own glistening and sticky cock, and then rising up and locking with Melinda's gaze.

Melinda smiled weakly and blushed.

"Melinda?" Jason said softly, and then in rising panic,"What? Oh ... oh! ... Oh my God!"

He burst into motion, bolting upright in bed, his eyes wild, until he realized he had no idea what to do at this point.

Melinda rose from her chair, wincing and her hips jerking once as she experienced one last dull throb from her still-sensitized pussy. She swiftly turned around so that her back was to him.

Jason gave her a frantic, confused look. "Melinda, what are you doing? What did I just ...!"

"I'm not looking anymore, Jason," Melinda said, intending to be reassuring, but her voice was cracking badly, her body still shaking from the experience. "Go ... c-clean yourself up and get dressed again. Tell me when you're done."

Jason groaned loudly and covered his eyes with his hand, mortified beyond the ability even to blush. Finally, he reached for the tissues on his night table. It took him a few minutes and quite a number of tissues to clean himself off enough so he would not feel like such a sticky mess.

As she heard him get out of bed and put his clothes on, Melinda said in a small voice, "I'm sorry, Jason."

Jason said nothing for a few moments as he pulled his pants on.

"I ... I didn't mean ..."

"That's why you were already here this morning when I arrived, wasn't it?" Jason asked. His voice was surprisingly calm.

Melinda swallowed. "Yes."

Jason paused a moment before pulling up his zipper. What was he supposed to feel at this point? Anger? If so, he wasn't doing a very good job of it.

"Uh ... did you enjoy it?" he asked tentatively.

She blushed scarlet. "Yes. V-very much."

Jason finished securing his belt. "I'm done. You can turn around."

Melinda hesitated a moment, not sure if she could look him in the eye, afraid of what she might find. She was quite astonished to find him actually smiling weakly at her.

"We're even," he said simply.

"You're ... you're not mad at me?"

"No, not really, I guess."

A long pause.

"Jason," Melinda said in a low voice. "When you came here, were you hoping ... to have me do what I did yesterday again?"

Jason nodded silently.

"Do you still want to see that again?"

He nodded again. "What about you? You want to see it? Me, I mean. Again."

Melinda hesitated only a few seconds before nodding.

Jason took a deep breath and let it go. "We need to talk."

"Yes, we do."

"Lunch?"

"Okay."

The two of them walked slowly out of the room and down the stairs.

Richie watched Jason enter the cul-de-sac and waited until he disappeared into the house before he advanced.

He felt the icy touch against his skin, the bone-chilling cold at the threshold to the little street. His body shuddered, and a very deep and primitive fear rose from the ancestral recesses of his mind. Yet in the short space of time it took to manifest, he just as quickly dismissed it, fighting down the unease as he walked with a quickening pace once he was sure that Jason had disappeared from view.

When he reached the house, his eyes fell upon the door, still open even after Jason had entered. For a second time the phantom fear arose in his mind, eyes momentarily glazed as if staring at something that should not be there. Again, he threw it off, refusing to let himself be deterred.

It was at this point he realized that the door was indeed still open, and quickly ducked to the side, finding cover behind a thick tree just beyond one corner of the property on which the house sat. As he peered around the side, he expected the door to close at any moment, yet it never did.

He waited a good five minutes for it to close. Still it remained ajar, both inviting and forbidding.

Finally, he edged out from around the tree and approached the gate. Goosebumps rose on his arms despite the heat of the day, a remaining tendril of uneasiness creeping up his spine as he leaned forward, looking towards the door. His breathing grew short, as if he had just run a distance, as he tentatively lifted the latch on the gate and let himself inside the grounds.

Suddenly his curiosity was insatiable. He had to know what was going on.

He crept towards the door, his ear cocked for any noises that might alert him to someone approaching the door. He heard nothing, yet paused again before very slowly taking a single step across the threshold.

Richie's eyes darted around the living room, looking for signs of life, but seeing nothing. He thought about calling out, until a sound came to him faintly through the unnaturally still and quiet house.

He stood absolutely still and heard it again: a low, soft sound, like a moan.

It was joined by another, and then another, growing louder and closer together. He furrowed his brow in confusion, until finally a second voice joined the first, also moaning, but of a decidedly higher pitch from the first.

Richie's jaw dropped. "Holy shit," he muttered to himself. "Holy fucking shit."

At that point, he almost laughed out loud as his choice of expletive.

He knew one of those voices had to be Jason. What he was not sure of was who the other one was. He had a very good idea, but he had to know for sure.

Quickly and quietly he retreated from the house and jogged down the path and out the gate. He crossed the cul-de-sac and stepped off the pavement and into the woods that lined the street. He found another good-sized tree next to some lush bushes and crouched down behind them, peering at the front of the house through the gap between the bushes and the tree.

After what seemed a long wait for him, he finally spied Jason emerging from behind the door. A few seconds later, he was joined by Melinda.

I don't believe this, Richie thought in astonishment. He's actually fucking Melinda.

He stared as they silently headed through the gate and walked away from the house and out of the cul-de-sac.

Richie rose from his hiding spot, waiting another minute before cautiously stepping back out onto the pavement. He flashed an evil smile. "Heather's gonna freak out when she hears about this."

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