It was actually not quite time for lunch, as they had not spent as long in the house as they had thought. Neither of them had much of an appetite anyway. Still needing someplace to talk, Melinda had suggested the park, but Jason was afraid of running into Richie. They instead settled on a small playground, filled largely with toddlers and their watchful parents. They headed towards a bench in a far corner before a set of monkey-bars that had been cordoned off as closed for repairs. Here they were away from the main crowd and their voices would not drift far, drowned out by the cries of the playing children.

At first, they remained silent, neither one wanting to be the first to speak. Both had trouble looking each other in the eye. It was finally Melinda that could no longer tolerate the quiet.

"Jason, you have any idea what this is all about?" she asked, almost demanded of him, as if expecting he had all the answers.

"No, I don't," Jason said in a low, neutral voice. He sighed as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He wished he had insisted on returning to his house briefly so he could shower, though that would have meant having to come up with a good excuse to tell his mother.

"Maybe it's a ghost," Melinda suggested. "Maybe the house is haunted or something."

Jason made a face. "Ghosts don't exist."

"Well, I don't hear you coming up with anything, genius," Melinda snapped. "You have any ideas, then?"

Jason paused and looked thoughtful. "Um, well, I did read about some UFO encounters like that."

Melinda stared at him. "UFOs?" she asked dubiously.

"Yeah. People who acted like they weren't in control. They think it was the aliens controlling them to keep them calm during the encounter, or to participate in experiments and stuff like that."

Melinda made a face. "There are no aliens in that house, Jason. You actually believe that stuff?"

"I'd sooner believe that than a ghost."

Melinda sighed and shook her head, muttering something about nerds. "Are you going to try to go back there again tomorrow?"

"Are you?"

Neither one answered the other's question.

"This can't be right," Melinda muttered, shaking her head.

"Huh?"

"We shouldn't even have to ask this. We shouldn't go back."

Jason did not reply.

Melinda looked at him accusingly. "You do still want to go back, don't you?"

A long pause, and then a short nod.

"Why?"

"Melinda, when I was ... um, doing what I was doing, what was happening to you?"

Melinda's eyes widened, and she blushed. "Wh-what difference does that make?"

"You felt like you were being touched, right?"

Melinda nodded, her eyes wide.

"So was I, when you were doing it yesterday. It did it to me the first time I was there, when you caught me coming out of the house."

"That's ... that's just weird."

"Yeah, it's weird. But you enjoyed it, didn't you?"

It was impossible for Melinda to lie. She'd never be able to pull it off convincingly enough. It was true that it had freaked her out when it was happening, but it was by far a better orgasm than she had given herself, save for the day before when the house was directing her actions.

"Look, Melinda," Jason said, finally turning to face her. "All I can tell you is that I think the house gives us what we want. Well, one of us, in turn. First it gave me something I wanted yesterday, and then you today."

"So you did want to see me do that!"

Jason looked uneasy for a moment. "Yeah, I did."

Melinda managed a small smile. "It's okay. Like you said, we're even." Though now, she realized with some chagrin, she was starting to feel guilty over it.

"Yeah, we're even. So we can just both try and forget about this house and never mess with it again. Or ... " He paused and lowered his voice. " ... or we can keep going back and ... and keep doing this in turn."

Melinda gave him a small, humorless smirk. "So it would be your turn next time, huh?"

"Well ... uh ... yeah, I guess."

Melinda leaned back and sighed. "I'm not sure, Jason."

"So you think we should just forget it?"

She knew how she should reply, but she could not bring herself to do it. Even now thinking about the house sent a quiver of anticipation through her. It was a way to satisfy her curiosity about sex, and there was the undeniable thrill of the forbidden. Most of all, it was simple, sweet defiance. Neither her mother nor her sister would have ever approved of her behavior. It was the perfect way to get back at them in her own mind for making her life miserable lately.

And above all, it was private. No one else knew about it. It was a complete secret.

"I can't just forget about it," Melinda said in a small voice.

"Neither can I."

Melinda took a deep breath and looked up at Jason. "All right. If you ... if we want to keep doing this, we better agree on something."

"What?"

"I don't care how this house works, or how much fun it is, there are some things I'm not ready to do."

Jason nodded quickly. "I understand."

"We have to agree not to make each other do something we don't want to yet, okay?"

"Sure! We can just talk about what we want to try ahead of time, something like that."

"All right, deal," Melinda said. "So we meet at nine again?"

"Better make it closer to eleven," Jason said. "My Dad's on call at the hospital this weekend, so I have to do the yard work."

"And we don't tell anyone about this, right?"

"Of course not."

"Don't go telling your friend Richie."

Jason blanched. "Why would I tell him?"

"I don't know, that's why I had to say it. This is only going to work if we keep it a secret."

Jason snorted. "I doubt anyone would believe me even if I did tell them."

Heather lay sprawled on the bed, her arms still and limp above her on the pillow. Her head lolled to one side, her eyes closed, her hair spread haphazardly around her head. Her breasts rose and fell quickly with her shortened breath, the nipples raised to hard, erect points. Her legs were parted, spread wide in complete submission. She quivered as she lost herself to the mounting pleasure bestowed upon her by her boyfriend Brad, as he slowly and methodically teased her swollen clit with his tongue.

Brad lay his hands on her thighs, his thick fingers pressing into her flesh as they slid up and towards her sex. Heather uttered a small sigh from between her slightly parted lips, and then a soft moan as his fingers reached the light bush of reddish hair. He brushed it lightly with his fingertips as he pressed his tongue into her slot, drawing up moisture from her folds. He curled his tongue under the tip of her clitoris, flicking at it, teasing it.

Heather moaned, arching her back briefly. She licked her lips and swallowed, still tasting a little of him remaining in her mouth, the deed for which he was now rewarding her. "Oh yeah ..."

Brad smiled to himself. He pressed his lips to pussy, opening his mouth and sucking at her clit. He drew it between his lips, squeezing it, massaging it with the tip of his tongue. Heather uttered a high-pitched whimper, panting softly.

Heather loved it when he did this for her. He had become rather skilled at it since they started being intimate with each other after the spring semester ended. When she had told Melinda she simply did not need to relieve herself anymore, she had meant it. Doing this with Brad two or three times a week was more than enough to satisfy her.

Heather began to rise. Brad stepped up the pace, pressing his tongue against her sensitized clit, stroking it firmly and quickly. He withdrew one of his hands from her body and probed her opening with a single, beefy finger. She moaned, then drew in her breath sharply as he slipped the finger into her. He pushed it into her tight confines, her cunt like warm oil, and began to thrust back and forth.

Heather panted hard, writhing on the bed. "Oh yeah! ... Oh yeah! ... More! ...Ohhh!"

Brad lifted his head slightly, and licked fast and incessantly with the tip of his tongue on her womanhood, his finger stabbing her over and over, faster and faster. Heather tilted her head back into the pillow, her moans rising in pitch. "Oh God ... Ohhh ... Uhhhn!!"

At the very same moment she uttered her cry, a single short burst of fluid spurt from around Brad's finger. Her hips spasmed along with her cunt, her throbs convulsing around his finger.

Brad never got tired of seeing that. She had surprised him (and herself) the first time that had happened, leaving him to worry about what to do with the big stain it had created on the sheets. Since then he had taken the precaution of spreading a towel out under her just for this. He even learned how to tell just when she was about to cum and hold his breath for that brief moment.

He continued licking her, making her throb longer, until it became too much for her to bear. "S-stop!" she croaked.

Brad immediately relented and drew back. Heather fell back onto the bed limp, still breathing hard for a few more seconds. By the time she recovered, he had crawled up and over her. Heather turned her half-lidded eyes towards him, smiling at the sight of his naked, broad chest and his sandy hair. Her eyes gazed appreciatively at the cords of muscle on his arms, the wonderful product of a father who was career military and believed his son should be in the exact same perfect physical shape he was himself.

Heather slid her arms around him as he descended upon her, enjoying the touch of his hard body as his lips pressed against hers. She moaned softly and tilted her head, letting his tongue invade her mouth. She tasted a little of herself on his lips, and it was not unpleasant.

As his body pressed down on hers, she opened her legs for him as if to accept him in a different way. Brad, however, had his briefs on, and was already spent, but she relished the feel of it against her pussy anyway.

"Oh God, that was great," Heather gushed when he broke off the kiss.

Brad smiled at her, grinding his hips into her a little, causing her smile to widen a bit. She could feel a ghost of renewed arousal in his loins. "It could be better," he said simply, his voice deep.

Heather's smile faded just a touch. He had been hinting at this more and more lately, and she had to keep denying him. It was not that she did not want to do it, or was not ready for it. She was not a virgin, and Brad knew this.

"We've talked about this before, Brad," she said softly, trying not to sound too admonishing in her tone. "I'm not on the pill. My Mom won't let me."

The time that Heather had broached the question to her mother had been a dreadful experience. It was not that there had been an argument; that would have been preferable to what actually happened.

The entire conversation had lasted ten seconds. Heather had asked, "Mom, maybe I should think about going on the pill", to which the mother had responded very casually and calmly, "Whatever for, darling, if you're not going to be having sex while you're living under this roof?"

That had swiftly ended any hope of safe sex for her.

"I can take care of that, babe," Brad said with a growing urgency in his voice that matched his renewing erection. "I've got condoms."

Heather sighed. She was far too afraid of leakage, and he knew this. After the first few times she had had sex about a year ago, she was so nervous afterward about this possibility that it was less stressful on her to just avoid intercourse for now. It made her mother's obstinate attitude even more frustrating to her.

After a few moments, her lips curled into a mischievous smile. "You're going to make me think I don't take care of you right as it is."

Brad managed a chuckle. "Oh, no, babe, not at all," he said with a grin.

"I mean, I thought I was getting better with practice."

"Fuck, Heather, I don't think there's another girl that could do with your mouth the things you do."

Heather blushed faintly, but her smile widened at the praise.

"Any guy I know would kill to have a girl that could suck a guy off as well as you do."

She giggled, though there was a gleam of mischief in her eyes. Yes, it had been his idea back at the start of the summer, and initially she had been a little reluctant to do it. But she grew quite skilled at it in a relatively short time, and once she saw how much he enjoyed it, she stuck to it. Now it was as she had hoped, that he was dependent on her for his sexual pleasure, so he wouldn't think of looking at another girl. So long as she had that control, she had him.

This was another reason she was reluctant to take that final step. She wanted him to keep anticipating it, to keep waiting for her to come around to it, and give him something to keep coming back for.

"Then just be patient," Heather said. She wriggled her hips under him, teasing his cock to a fuller erection and drawing a moan out of him. "It will happen, eventually."

Brad gave her another kiss, shorter this time. "I guess you have to go, huh?" he said, his voice heavy with disappointment.

"Yeah, I do," Heather said, lazily tracing patterns with her finger in his chest hair. "I have to get home soon and your parents will be home in an hour or so."

"Well, my Mom, anyway," Brad said as he lifted himself from her and plopped himself down to her side, jostling the bed. "My Dad's holed up on base for another week. And he's more the one to worry about."

Heather just nodded absently as she reached over the side to fetch her clothing. "What's he do up there anyway? Isn't it a research lab or something?"

"Yeah, used to be. Now it's just a base. He's involved in anti-terrorism stuff. Won't tell me any more than that. Says it's all classified or something."

Heather stepped off the bed, Brad watching her nude body with a small smile on his lips as she dressed. Heather noticed his gaze and smiled at him.

"So when can I see you again?"

"Tomorrow's Saturday," she said with a sigh. "Both my parents will be home. It'll have to wait until Monday."

"Maybe we can just go to lunch or something tomorrow?"

"Sure."

Heather exchanged one last kiss with him, giggling as he stole one last squeeze of one of her tits before she pulled away from him and headed out of the house.

She smiled to herself as she left, barely noticing anything around her, her pussy still feeling a dull yet pleasant leftover ache from her orgasm.

The reality was that the sex was actually a bonus for her. What mattered to her was the cozy arrangement she enjoyed. Except for the issue over the pill, she had her mother in her back pocket. She was popular at school. She had one of the best-looking jocks in Haven as her boyfriend.

It was a far cry from what her life had been like in grammar school. A very plain, shy girl, she had been widely known as the class wallflower. It was only when she had hit puberty, blossoming at the tender age of ten, that she had turned into the beauty that she was now. Where her personality had failed, her body had succeeded; when she entered High School, she had no trouble being noticed. She took shameless advantage of it.

Then Melinda hit her own adolescence and became increasingly rebellious. Their mother had little tolerance for it, having grown used to Heather's relatively meek pre-teen personality. Heather quickly realized that all she had to do was toe the line with Mom, and she could get whatever she wanted, and thus keep everything she had gained.

"About time you got outta there."

Startled, Heather spun around. Leaning against a car parked by the curb was Richie, who gave her a smarmy grin.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Heather snapped, her good mood quickly disappearing. "And what are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you."

"Waiting for ... what, you've been standing out here for ..."

"For nearly an hour," Richie said, pushing himself off from the car. He smirked. "What, it takes that long to fuck? Shit."

Heather went red-faced, fuming. "Like you'd know anything about that," she spat. "And it's none of your fucking business what Brad and I are doing. And how the hell did you know where he lives, anyway?"

"He plays baseball with me and my friends sometimes. Freakin' awesome batter. Well, he used to play a lot with us until you started making cow-eyes at him."

Heather pressed her lips together and spun back around, leaving in a huff. Richie sprinted to catch up with her. "Hey, don't leave so soon."

"Get the fuck away from me. I'm not interested in little boys."

"Ooo, real low, Heather. Just for that, I might not tell you all about what your little sis has been up to lately."

Heather stopped so abruptly that Richie almost jogged right past her. "What?" she demanded.

Richie grinned and shook his head. "Nuh-uh. I ain't tellin' til you apologize for being so rude."

"Richie, I'm warning you, if you know something about Melinda ..."

Richie looked away and hummed to himself.

Heather reached the end of her patience. She gave Richie a hard shove with both hands and sent him reeling backwards into a lamp post.

"Hey! What ...?"

"Cut the shit, Richie," she snarled at him. "I already know Melinda is up to something. If you know about it, you're going to tell me now."

"Jesus. Okay, okay," Richie said, his eyes a bit glazed. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and he glanced around him quickly to make sure no one saw what happened. He straightened up and took a half-step away from the lamp post. "Shit, no one can take a joke anymore."

"Unless this is just a big joke, but if it is, you're going to be in deep shit."

"No joke, Heather," he said, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. "Wait til you hear this ..."

He told her about following Jason into the house, about going inside, and what he had heard. He ended it with his brief view of them as they left the house together.

Heather listened to this, a troubled look on her face. Finally she blurted, "You're lying to me."

"I swear, Heather, that's what I saw," Richie said adamantly. "And heard. If they weren't screwin', I don't know what it coulda been."

"Melinda's only thirteen!"

Richie snorted. "And Jason is fourteen. So'm I. And you're sixteen. What's your point?'

"She's too young is what my point is!"

"Well, tell that to her, because she doesn't think so. So what are you gonna do about it?" Richie asked with a wry grin.

"Assuming I even believe you?" Heather replied sharply, though there was not a lot of conviction in her voice. "I mean, who the hell owns the house?"

"Beats me. I didn't see anyone else home."

"That makes no sense, Richie. Who in their right mind is going to let a couple of teens fuck in their house?"

"Like you and Brad just did in his parents' house?"

"I mean knowingly, you asshole."

"Actually, I don't think anyone was living in it. It looks like it was, I dunno, just there."

"That's ridiculous."

Richie shrugged, feigning indifference. "Fine, don't believe me. But you might wanna watch her if she starts throwing up in the next few weeks."

Heather gave him a perplexed look.

Richie laughed. "Didn't your parents tell you where babies come from?"

"Oh, stop it!"

"Or maybe you want a nerd in the family."

"Melinda's smarter than that." Again, there was not a lot of conviction in her voice.

"Maybe."

"So what do you want from me, huh?"

"Nothing. Just passin' along info," Richie said, shoving his hands in his pockets in an almost Jason-like gesture. The only thing that spoiled the imitation was his sly smile. "Just don't mention it came from me."

"I thought you were Jason's friend," Heather said. "I thought boys didn't rat on each other about this stuff."

"Jason? Friend? Nah, just some kid who hangs out with me sometimes." Richie smirked. "He has the hots for you, you know that?"

Heather smiled mildly. She had suspected as much. Somehow this satisfied her immensely. "Fat lot of nothing is what it will get him," she commented.

"Well, he's no Brad the Wonder Stud, but ..."

"Shut up!" Heather cried. She turned on her heel and left.

Richie watched her go with a satisfied smile on his face. "That oughta make things interesting," he commented to himself.

Jason hated it when he didn't have all the answers.

In this way he was a typical geek. Knowing that something worked was not enough. Knowing the rules by which something worked was not enough. He had to know how it worked. He had to know what made it tick.

It was later in the afternoon when Jason realized that his conversation with Melinda had bothered him. She was looking for him to explain what was happening at the house and he had nothing to offer. That did not sit well with him at all.

Jason did what every good geek would do at this point. He turned to the internet.

He started by looking through real estate records. His initial assumption that the house was part of his subdivision turned out to be wrong. Yet even widening his search turned up nothing. The plot of land on which the house sat was registered nowhere, as least as far as City Hall was concerned.

He further expanded his search to county and then state records, but still nothing. He tried the post office as well, but the house had no mailing address. He even tried looking up satellite imagery of the area, but for some odd reason the pictures of that particular area were blurred just enough for the house to vanish into the surrounding foliage. It was as if the house simply did not exist.

He remembered his conversation with Melinda, and as a last desperate try, he looked up UFO activity reported in that area of Haven. The area was surprisingly quiescent in this regard.

He sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. This was a dead end. The only other theory he had to go on was Melinda's suggestion about ghosts, but that was such a ludicrous idea to begin with that he did not even bother to research it.

He shook his head and cleared the screen of his failed searches. He had little choice but to hope that future visits to the house would give him more clues as to what was going on.

Heather was not at all sure what she was going to say to Melinda. Richie was not exactly a reliable source of information, and his story about the house sounded fantastic to her. If he had said they were doing it at Jason's house, or her house, his story would have sounded more credible, but to just screw in some stranger's house?

She barely even knew there was a house at the end of the street. Certainly no one she knew lived there.

She arrived at the corner of Oak and Grove to find that Melinda was already there. Melinda's arms were folded indignantly, and she was tapping one foot. "About freaking time," she muttered. "You know how long I've been waiting?"

"I was busy," Heather said succinctly, walking past her without stopping.

Melinda jogged to catch up with her. "Yeah, I know what you were busy doing, too," Melinda said with a smirk.

"Don't go there, Melinda," Heather warned.

"So did he boink you?"

"I said stop it. I don't want to hear ..."

"Boink! Boink! Boink!" Melinda chanted as she walked with a skip in her step.

Heather stepped in front of her sister and stopped. "What?" Melinda demanded.

"What were you doing all day?"

"Like I'm going to tell you."

"Yeah, you will tell me, and you'll tell me right now."

Melinda felt her heart beat a little faster, but she retained her outward composure. "Or else what?"

"Or else I'll tell Mom what I heard."

For a very brief moment, her veneer cracked, and she looked panic-stricken. She recovered quickly, but not fast enough to avoid Heather seeing it.

"Well?"

"Well what?" Melinda said as innocently as she could manage. "Tell me what you heard first."

Heather paused a moment. She would not tell her sister everything. That would only make her stop using that house for their trysts and find somewhere else, assuming Richie was not just playing some grand joke on them all. If Richie's story were true, at least Heather knew where to find them if she needed to do so. "I heard you and Jason spent some time together," she said carefully.

Melinda was just as cautious in her reply. "Okay, yeah, so? You're the one who kept claiming he was my boyfriend or something."

Heather could not help but smirk at this. "Is he?"

"That's for me to know and for you to find out," Melinda said in a mocking tone of voice.

"Oh, I'll find out, Mel, if he is."

"Shit, Heather, stop calling me Mel!"

"And stop cursing."

"I'll curse all I want!"

"Melinda, what are you doing with Jason?" Heather demanded.

Melinda froze. The bluntness of the question caught her off-guard, and she hesitated in her reply long enough to make Heather look at her suspiciously.

"You better not be doing ..."

"Look, who the fuck made you my boss, huh?" Melinda shouted.

"I said, stop cursing!"

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck!"

"Now you're just acting like a child."

"Heather, get this straight: You're not my mother. Stop acting like you are!"

"So do you want me to tell Mom what I think you're doing?"

Silence. Melinda opened her mouth and closed it again, looking guilty.

Heather frowned at this reaction. "Melinda, you're not," she breathed.

"Not what?" Melinda asked in a small voice.

"You're not ... having sex with him."

"What??" Melinda cried shrilly, her look of shock completely genuine. "I-is that what you heard?"

Heather paused. No, I better not let on how much I know, she thought. "Well, not exactly," she temporized.

"Then why the hell did you say it?"

Heather sighed. "I'm just concerned about you, that's all."

"Yeah, some concern!"

"I am, Melinda!" Heather shouted. "Don't even think about doing it if you haven't already."

"I haven't!" Melinda screamed, which was, essentially, the truth. Neither of them had touched each other in any way.

And the truth was, Heather was concerned. She did not, in fact, hate Melinda, as much as Melinda might scoff at that concept. Heather was simply afraid of giving any leeway that would jeopardize the current arrangement she enjoyed. Two more years was all Heather needed. Then she would be away to college, and Melinda can be the center of attention again.

Until that time, however, Heather had to keep the status quo, and that meant her as the popular one, the favorite child. She really did not think she was asking for very much. In her mind, anything less was tantamount to a return to her "wallflower days".

Yet none of this meant she wanted to see Melinda get into serious trouble. Certainly not trouble of this variety. As impetuous as she believed her sister to be, Heather could not trust Melinda would make the right decision.

"Okay, fine, you haven't," Heather said in a softer voice. "Then keep it that way, okay?"

Melinda would have agreed and let it end there, had she been thinking rationally about it. But it was impossible for a thirteen-year-old girl to do so when dealing with a sixteen-year-old sister when there was this much animosity between them. Such people rarely think rationally. "And who are you to tell me what to do?!"

"Because if I find out you're doing it, Melinda, I'll tell Mom."

"Then I'll tell her you and Brad ...!"

"I don't care," Heather said, causing Melinda to drop into stunned silence. "I'll take the heat for that if it means stopping you from doing something stupid."

Melinda had no reply. There was nothing she could say. The one thing she had to hold over her sister and now it was gone. "You ... y-you better not go back on our deal!" she sputtered. "Don't you dare!"

Heather gave her sister a condescending smirk that made Melinda clench her fists and her teeth in frustration. "I wouldn't dream of it," she said. "But now you'll owe me for that. It's not a deal anymore, Mel. It's a favor."

"Fine," Melinda said in a guttural voice.

Heather raised an admonishing finger, which made Melinda loathe her sister even more. "And I'll be watching you very closely, Mel. Don't step out of line. Got it?"

Melinda said nothing, total fury in her eyes.

"Now let's get home," Heather said. "And behave yourself."

After Heather turned away, Melinda mouthed an exaggerated "fuck you" silently behind her sister's back.

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