THE BROTHERS KISSELHOFF

by Dutch Master

CHAPTER ONE: TAD THE LAVA MONSTER

Ivy O'Brien had her hands full. Tad's horny pinch was about to pull her nipples off her breasts, even through the lackluster safety of her blouse and bra. She kept grabbing at his wrists in a futile attempt to ease the discomfort. He was in full lava monster mode: His skin burning, breath hissing through his nose as his insistent, lathered tongue overpowered her little pink ice cream licker and forced it against her molars. At least his pants were still on, but Ivy knew this wouldn't last much longer. He was going to grab her wrist and shove it down the front of his jeans any second as he continued to build steam and lose control. After that didn't work, he'd go for his own zipper and yank his junk out. Same script every time.

And then Ivy would back him down. Push him off. Get control back. Same script as the last dozen times.

And then Tad would get angry and pout. Like time and tide, every time.

Tad was 14. A year older. Well, technically seven months older, but he was going to be a Freshman when school started back up, and Ivy was still going to be a lowly middle schooler.

Ivy enjoyed Tad's modest weight pushing her into her princess bed mattress, the shadow of his narrow shoulders eclipsing what little ambient light there was in the room. She loved kissing. She didn't mind the denim stone he was grinding into her crotch, or at least it bothered her less than it bothered her a month ago. It was a byproduct of Tad's crazy lust heat, and that she liked that part very much. That's how she knew he was in love with her; the heat. The heat meant Tad's love for her was real. No doubt, this was the boy who would become the man she would married.

Poke, Ivy's BFF, had warned Ivy that once Tad made the jump to the High School, he would no longer put up with all of Ivy's red lights. Poke was rooting for the breakup. She was no fan of Tad.

"You can't give your V-card to a boy whose entire contribution to the social scene at Alpharetta High will be playing third chair clarinet, Ivy." Poke shook her head. "That's a no-mulligan you'll have to take to your grave."

Even if Tad wasn't the coolest boy or the hottest boy, or even particularly tall, he was still her boyfriend. She wasn't going to let him go. Ivy had a plan to make sure the "Big Green Light" happened, but tonight wasn't part of that plan.

"OW!" Ivy grimaced as one of her long blonde ropes of hair ringlets got caught between Tad's elbow and the paisley comforter.

"Sorry," panted Tad. Seconds later he did it again.

Tad pushed her blouse up. Right on cue. Then her bra went up-not-off and into her neck. Enough streetlight poured through the blinds that she could watch his sloe eyed rapture as his mouth broke the rounded symmetry of her left breast. (Always the left first. Why? Because Tad was right handed? Curious. She reminded herself to write that question in her diary.)

This was Ivy's favorite part of the petting ritual: Letting Tad suck and chew on her new tits was fun. It meant so much to Tad and Ivy loved the connection. Boy to breast: The nurture magnet that made them both whole. If Tad would just stay content to suckle at her engorged nipples, Ivy would have been content to let it go on for hours, even after Tad started biting. Poke declared nipple biting "the bestest of all good pain." Ivy agreed.

Ivy remembered something she read in Teen Vogue. Summer Beach Double Issue: Back to Basics: 12 Kinds of Foreplay Fun You Forgot You Love!

But wait. This did not go to script: Tad sucked at her left nipple with a slow ferocity, the way he always did. But… It was different this time. She had suspected this last time, that it was better than the time before, and now again. Tad was actually getting better at sucking boob? Was that possible? The rough flat of his tongue bumped in a slow sweep across the texture of her lower areola, leaving the nipple to trill freely along the wave of the wet side of Tad's tongue. Was there actually skill to be had at sucking her tit? Yes, apparently. Tad flicked his tongue more. He teased with more random kisses between nipple bites that were more tender and playful than last time. He opened his mouth wide wide wide to suck the whole breast, not just the pink tip. Her new tits were still trying to decide if they were going to fatten from Bs to Cs. Tad inhaled one tit at a time, disappearing it back to the A cup of fifth grade. Ivy's chin lifted involuntarily at the warm, wide sensation of suction where suction most belonged, and the urge in her own thighs ratcheted up to a tipping point where she thought maybe she wasn't going to throttle Tad this time. Just let it happen.

But… Tad stopped suckling, raised up, and locked lips with Ivy. On script. His fingers locked around her slim wrist and pulled Ivy's hand down to the front of his jeans. On script. He pressed her spiritless palm against his lumpy jean zipper.

"C'mon," he growled. "I'm dying here, baby. Wake up." Tad began rubbing himself with Ivy's shy paw.

"Stop it!" Ivy surprised herself by how voraciously she shouted it.

It shocked Tad as well. His expression froze. "Baby?"

"Get off me!" Ivy wasn't even sure why she was mad, but she was mad.

"Oh Christ," Tad hissed. "Here we go."

Her hands went to the sides of Tad's face and she leaned up to lock eyes with him in the gloaming of the room. "Tad Lourette, you know I love you."

"You sure don't show it, Ivy." Boom. SCENE 3: [Interior] The Pout.

Ivy continued, "But I want our first time to be special. And I told you that my mom is going out of town for her cruise at the end of June. We'll finally have time to do everything right. We won't have to worry about when my mom is coming home, which by the way…" Ivy looked at the illuminated red digits of the clock on her nightstand. "…is less than forty-five minutes from now."

"That's all I need!" Tad was actually begging.

Ivy had read all about this power dynamic in Cosmopolitan. October Issue: Slow His Roll. Make Him Squirm for Sex on YOUR Terms!

"That's what I'm afraid of," Ivy squeezed her palms against Tad's cheeks again. "I need a lot more than a quicky or a countdown timer to be ready to do this right. I want candles. I want you to make me a special iTunes playlist for us as we do it." Ivy forced a placating smile. "And I want that mix to be a lot longer than 45 minutes, Tad Lourette." She winked.

"Well just suck on me now, then," Tad said. "Or hell, I'd settle for a handy. You gave Bill Rasston a handy."

"GAH! We were seven! We were playing doctor! Can you just please let that fricking go! I still can't believe he told you that. It wasn't a handy, I just put a plastic stethoscope on it! How many times do I have to tell you this?"

"You're not seven anymore." Tad's eyes went sharp. The skin above his nose folded into a V and Ivy knew he had shifted gears from frustrated to pissed. "But you sure fucking act like it sometimes, O'Brien. You act like an eighth grader."

The insult slapped Ivy across her heart. The moment was teetering into precisely the shark-infested kiddie pool that Poke had warned her about. She heard Poke's voice in her head: "Boys gonna boy, Blondie." Tad's jibe hurt. The hurt had to be all over her face. Tad had to see it. Tad had to see he'd just sucker punched her right in the ego and he had to feel sorry for her and soften up. Right?

"Fuck this," Tad spat. He climbed off the bed and started kicking through the clutter on Ivy's floor, looking for his shoes in the dark. "You're never going to grow up. Fuck this."

Ivy had seen Tad pissy-and-rejected a dozen times. It was a familiar trope of the script. She'd never seen him furious before. It scared her on more than one level.

"Baby," Ivy swung her legs over the bed. "Baby, hang on. Don't be mad."

Tad wasn't having it. His inability to find his shoes was just pissing him off even more. "I'm out of here. Fuck it. I'll ride my bike home in my socks. You can mail me my shoes. I don't even know how you can live in this pigsty, you are so messy."

"C'mon, Tad. We've still got a half hour before you have to be out of here. Maybe Mom's movie will go long or she'll text to say Gary's taking her out for drinks afterwards. Don't leave yet."

"Call Bill Rasston to come play doctor with you. I'm going to get a real girlfriend."

A submarine klaxon went off in Ivy's brain. This was all going wrong wrong wrong.

"Okay!" She was shouting. "Chill out, Tad. Just chill. I'll… I'll do it."

"Do what?" Tad asked with accusing eyebrows.

"Come here," Ivy whispered.

"Do what?" Tad demanded. "Say it. What are you going to do?"

"I'll… play with it."

"Play with it? The fuck does that mean, exactly?"

Oh, how the power had shifted, and Ivy most definitely felt the swish of air created by the tilting scale. She had to put this fire out, and fast. She gently stepped forward and pushed her tiny fingers around the top of Tad's Levis. She looked at his eyes, and then back down at the mechanics of a snap button that split like a pistachio shell. Both kids watched her pinch at the zipper. The vibration as she lowered it made a low rumble in the quiet room. A mere three point oh on the Richter, but it would surely shake the posters off her wall.

Ivy split the wings of Tad's jeans flaps like a textbook and pushed the tiny fingernails of her dominant left hand through the elastic band at the top of his Haynes. Her fingernails pushed down into a tangle of hair, colliding with the base of Tad's penis, which was still quite firm. She looked up at Tad, looking for any sign that this small gesture had satisfied his need. Not a chance.

Her fingertips followed the warmth of the hard plank sideways where Tad's penis had been channeled by dry humping in tight pants. Her hand closed around its firm warmth. As prominent as Tad's penis had been in all his boy jokes and petting insistence, the real McCoy turned out to be almost the exact size of Ivy's grip. She expected something bigger.

Tad hissed through his nose and the anger began to slide off his face. His eyes went thin.

Ivy offered small tugging motions, as much as the restricted confines of Tad's pants allowed.

Tad kissed her. Then again. He grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. Her free arm popped out of the top, but Tad held her penis-pleasuring hand exactly where it was and just left the bulk of the blouse and dangling brazier slide to Ivy's elbow and flag in the moonlight. The backs of his fingers tenderly curtained her long, curly, honey squirts of hair from her neck to her shoulders, admiring her nude torso in the shadow, her goth-pale skin the brightest reflection in the darkened room.

"I really love your hair," Tad whispered. "So fucking sexy. It looks like ribbons on a Christmas present."

Ivy smiled and kissed Tad. She could feel her control coming back. She got more aggressive with her penis tugs and she felt the stickiness slicking the friction between her hand and Tad's warm dick. For a moment she thought he had came. But Tad didn't seem to be slowing down. He seemed to be ramping up. He lost patience and pushed his pants and underwear down to his knees with one press. He straightened and danced out of his remaining clothes (except for those stupid socks. The musty smell of boy sex powered through Ivy's nostrils. She let the bouquet of it bounce around and she mapped it into her sensory brain while she tried to decide if the scent was foul or fantastic.

Tad was skinnier than Ivy had ever realized. She's seen him shirtless before. But seeing him in his nude-with-socks totality, she had to admit that he was pretty thin. Almost as slender as she was. Her hips were wider, as she was blessed/cursed with some booty for a young girl. Her shoulders more narrow than Tad's. Her neck thinner and slightly longer. But other than that… Their respective builds were closer than she realized. Or rather, Tad was less imposing than she had realized.

Ivy tugged at Tad's penis, pulling it toward her stomach. The wetness of the tip dribbles made a soothing "shickah shickah" drum beat. Tad started hissing a little snare drum counter tempo. Ivy realized it was a word. He was breathing a word. "Yesss. Yesss. Yesss."

Tad wasn't making eye-contact with Ivy any longer. He was fixed down at the slow blur of her pleasuring southpaw. His hips began to sway. Ivy assumed this was it. He was going to come. This had been way easier than she thought. She looked down at her messy floor and kicked her BFF Scrapbook to the side so Tad didn't spray semen on the pink Fun-Fur cover and stain the picture of Poke and her in the heart cutout. Poke had warned Ivy that boys spray a lot more cum than a girl would expect could be inside balls so small.

Tad's lips gaped open in an involuntary fishmouth and Ivy knew he was going to squirt any second. Poke had made Ivy watch a bunch of YouPorn videos during a sleepover and Tad had that same stoned ape look on his face that the men in the videos had right before they unloaded. Her hand jerked faster. Her grip squeezed tighter. The "shickah shackah shickah" sound blended to one wet bubbling squeak.

"Hang on!" Tad said it at the exact moment he grabbed Ivy's wrist. So abrupt that it startled her.

"Did you do it?" asked Ivy.

"Do what?"

"Orgasm."

Tad laughed. "No. Almost though."

Ivy could not think of one single reason for a boy – Tad of all boys – to put the brakes on an orgasm. Isn't that what he wanted all these months? What the heck?

Then Tad's hands were frisking her silky gym shorts right off her hips. He was so fast and aggressive that Ivy was reduced to her panties before she knew what happened. Tad reached for those next. Ivy dropped Tad's penis and stepped back. Her hanging shirt and bra fell off her arm and melded with the clutter on her bedroom floor.

"Tad!" Ivy said.

Tad's head snapped up and his eyes locked on her like shotgun barrels. "What," he snapped. It wasn't really a question. The edge was back in his voice.

Ivy took a deep breath. She looked at the clock. If her math and the running time listed on Rottentomatoes was accurate, the credits at the end of her mother's movie date would start rolling in nine minutes. Add travel time and she was cutting it close. But… She wasn't going to piss Tad off any more. She was going to drop all resistance and try to speed him to a happy orgasm in time to get him out the door, on his bike, and far enough away from the condo that her mother and her mother's pervy boyfriend Gary wouldn't drive past Tad pumping pedals suspiciously close to the abode of her daughter, suspiciously late in the evening.

"Let me do it," Ivy sighed. "You're going to rip my panties." She shimmied out of her panties. Her hand gripped around Tad's penis again. Tad's eyes felt her up her in a long, slow radar sweep. Up. Down. Up.

Tad pushed her back on the bed so hard that it was almost a tackle. "Hey!" Ivy protested.

"Shut up," Tad whispered, grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand back where he wanted it. He knelt around Ivy's head while he pushed her flat against the mattress, his penis pointed directly at Ivy's button nose when her hand hinged it downward to stroke. It was obvious what Tad wanted. Ivy couldn't bring herself to do it. She stroked Tad's penis and waited for him to force the issue.

Instead of mounting Ivy's mouth, Tad leaned across her body and pushed a cluster of warm fingers through the folds of her vagina. Ivy sucked air. Tad ruffled clumsily through the pages of her vaginal lips. He poked into her hole until he speared her maidenhead. Ivy yipped with pain.

"Your pussy is really wet," Tad said. He smiled a lecherous smile.

Ivy thought it so foreign to hear Tad use such coarse words.

"Your fuckhole is tight and really really wet."

Tad's fingers dipped just far enough into her tight vagina without testing her hymen. It send a wave of freezing heat through her upper butt and the small of her back. She cooed.

Tad noted his handiwork, smiled, and fingerblasted the edge of her hole again. Same wave of pleasure, but cresting higher and this time crashing into her breasts and nipples. Tad's fingers pulled up and rifled a bump-bump-bumpy introduction to Ivy's clit. Ivy heard a girl's voice squeak and realized it had been her. Just like those girls in Poke's video lesson who Ivy laughed at for their vocalizations. Ivy realized something was happening to her. Something involuntary. She was melting under Tad's touch. She was liquefying. Her hand reciprocated all that pleasure back into Tad's penis. It was really sticky and wet and making a racket.

"Wow your pussy is totally gushing," Tad smiled. That's when Ivy realized the wet sounds she was hearing were coming from Tad playing with her vagina. "And your wings are popping out. That's cool. Your pussy lips are big and pink."

Again with the coarse talk. But Tad's dirty words stopped striking her weird bone and started tickling the inside of her knees. Tad zeroed in on her clitoris with a windshield wiper motion that sent Morse code signals down into her twitching knees. Oh God, that feels amazing, she said. Wait. Did she actually say it? Or did she think it? Should she say someth—

"GAH! Jesus Christ!"

"Sorry!" Tad stopped rubbing her clit abruptly. "Sorry, did I hurt you?""

"No." Ivy was embarrassed by her involuntary outburst. "It felt great. Don't stop. I was just about to… To… Yeah. That's it. Just a tiny bit higher. Oh that's perfect. Don't stop. That's it."

Ivy's knees took to twitching again and she realized she was going to beat Tad to Happyland if he didn't squirt soon. Her pink tongue snaked out of her lips and the tip connected with the head of Tad's penis poking out of the top of her stroke. Tad moaned. Ivy brought the taste of Tad's precome back into her mouth and her taste buds didn't object. So she licked again. And again. More brave with every successful groan from Tad, she pushed her tongue tip right into the little slot of bubbling frustration at the tip of Tad's dick. The penis head hanging over her thumb was glowing red in the dark and was hot as a charcoal briquette on her tongue.

Tad found a rub rhythm on her clit for which there was no defense. It sent pleasure waves that crashed harder, and worked further and further up her shoulders. Her neck. Her chin. Her ears.

She lost track of Tad hovering above her as she folded into her own pleasure perfection and the sound of slippery sex parts singing boy-to-girl and girl-to-boy.

It took less than a second for Tad to pull himself away from her grip and reposition himself between her legs. Ivy was confused. Tad kissed her deeply, pulling away with warm sticky lips and reconnecting again. His nubbin of penis found the wet opening of her vagina. She would have stopped Tad right there and then, but the kiss was just too good to break.

That was all the time Tad needed to bring his weight into her. He wasn't tender. He was a freight train.

Ivy's childhood broke. Through the pain, she actually felt the tickle of Tad's warm, fuzzy balls rubbing against her butthole. He was all the way in. In dirty stories she read online, the pain of a lost virginity only lasted one sentence. This was bullshit. Tad began to lift his hips and reviolate her sore vagina repeatedly. It wasn't merely uncomfortable. It hurt like holy hell.

Somewhere in the shade of a metaphorical tree deep in Ivy's brain, Ivy's Rational Self sat and wrote the sum of four realizations into an imaginary book.

1. After being right on the edge of orgasm twice in the last ten minutes, she wasn't going to cum after all. Dammit.

2. This was it. Marching Band Boy. No candles. No Ed Sheeran.

3. While not the plan, this was fine. Not great. Not bad. But fine. This was a woman's plight: Satisfaction of her man, Ueber Alles.

4. Tad wasn't wearing a condom.

Ivy snapped back into her body abruptly. "Don't come in me," Ivy pleaded in a panicked whisper.

"I won't," Tad panted.

"No, really, don't come inside me."

"I won't."

Tad's hips lifted higher and faster and she felt his piston pick up steam. His inhales were broken into three parts. The stoned ape look was back on his face.

"Tad! Don't! Pull out."

"I w-wh-wh-will."

Ivy put her palms against Tad's chest and pushed. He went nowhere but fucked even faster. She pushed harder. This time it worked. Her push lifted Tad. She pushed Tad up and off of her. She pushed so hard that Tad actually… Flew off the bed? Toward the ceiling? Toward the ceiling fan light? That was… ON?

"THE CHRIST YOU DOING TO HER, YOU LITTLE LOWLIFE FUCK!" Gary. Mom's boyfriend. He had pulled Tad off her with a two handed grip around Tad's neck and slammed him into the wall beside her vanity. Tad's feet were a foot off the floor and his expression was pure terror. He instinctively kicked for the floor but found nothing.

Ivy's blood ran cold. Her mother stood in her open room doorway with a look of astonished horror.

Gary's sinewy construction biceps bulged as he held Tad off the floor and bounced his head back into the sheetrock again for bully emphasis.

"You raping her, you bastard?" Gary spat into Tad's close face. "Huh? Answer me!"

Tad gurgled. He couldn't answer. He couldn't even breathe. Ivy's eyes were pulled to the crimson-pink splash of Tad's groin. It didn't make sense. And then it did. She looked down at her thighs and saw that her virginity was splashed all over her and the bedclothes around her.

"Gary! Put him down!" Bethany O'Brien did her part to stop Gary from choking Tad until he blacked out. Gary let Tad slide down to the floor, but kept Tad pinned to the wall with a flat, powerful hand to his chest.

Gary turned to Ivy. He started to say something and then just stopped and soaked in her nudity. Ivy creeped out and flipped the edge of the comforter over her vagina, all of one breast, and half of the other.

"Don't hurt him!" Ivy begged.

Tad's modest wiener evaporated into a soft flap of skin. Gary bared his teeth into Tad's terrified eyes. "So you're fuckin' a child, are you sport? You are in some big city trouble, son. Do you know how old she is?"

"Of course he knows how old I am!" shouted Ivy. "We're practically the same age!"

Gary looked back at Ivy. Then at Tad. "That true, sport?"

Tad nodded rapidly.

"Hmm. You looked older. Still, though." Gary turned to Beth. "What do you want me to do with this little fuck? Beat his ass?"

"For the love of Christ, Gary," Bethany O'Brien's voice was trembling, "Let him go!"

Gary stepped back. He gave Tad a look. Then he turned back to seeing what he could still see of Ivy. Ivy detected a hint of smile in Gary's pervy eyes.

Bethany O'Brien began to cry quietly. "Well, at least I can see for certain that this hasn't been going on before tonight," she said, staring at the blood on Tad's groin. "Thaddeus, get your clothes on and I'll drive you home."

"That's okay," Tad stammered. "I've got my bike." He snatched at his scraps of clothing on Ivy's cluttered floor, practically jumping into them.

"It's late," Beth said. "I can't have you riding home in the dark."

"No really," Tad said. He finally found his shoes and picked them up. He pushed past Beth O'Brien's door block. "I'm fine. Got a light on my bike and everything. I'm good."

Ivy began to rain tears of humiliation. Her boy, her little man, looked absolutely small and pathetic in a brightly lighted room. Faced with the opposition of adult authority, he didn't look like a man. He looked like third chair clarinet in the Alpharetta Marching Raiders, running for his life and leaving her to face whatever came next.

Gary and Beth O'Brien stared at Ivy wordlessly as the front door creaked open and slammed shut. Ivy's heart sank into her stomach. This was all Tad's fault and he abandoned her and literally… LITERALLY ran away. Sheesh!

"Can you please leave?" Ivy sobbed. "Get out of my room." She had started out talking to Gary, but realized she was talking to both adults. Neither of them moved an inch.

"I warned you about this, Beth." Gary pointed toward Ivy. "I told you this what Little Miss Sassymouth would do if you didn't tighten the reins on her."

Beth covered her mouth with her hand. Tears fell faster.

"We talked about exactly this, didn't we?" Gary pressed.

Ivy got more impatient. "Would you two get out of here so I can get dressed?"

Gary turned his fierce expression on Ivy. "You stick a sock in it, little slut. Nobody's talking to you!"

Ivy's ears burned and she looked to her mother for backup.

Beth O'Brien looked at Gary. She nodded sadly, but didn't seem wholly convinced.

"So we're going to do this, like I said, right?" Gary asked. "Show her some proper fatherly discipline, right?"

Beth paused for a long moment before nodding reluctantly.

"HEY!" Ivy shouted as Gary tugged the comforter off her nudity. Gary picked her up by the waist and flipped her over his lap as he sat on the bed. "What the hell are you doing, Gary? Gary! Gary, get your hands off m—"

CRACK! The first swat of Gary's calloused hand bit into Ivy's ass and it paralyzed her with hot pain. She couldn't even vocalize, it hurt so bad and so completely. Ivy went stiff. Gary's hand came again. And again. The smacks were so hard that the sharpness of the sound hurt Ivy's ears. An incomprehensible pain cut down her ass and the the backs of her legs.

Ivy began to thrash, trying to get away from Gary's commanding grip on the long mane of her hair. Every time she managed any leverage, Gary would tug her into a backbend that pushed her bare crotch right back into Gary's lap.

Gary's hand kept coming, taking bites into each alternating butt cheek. Ivy had no doubt that boys were stronger than girls and men were stronger than boys, but Ivy was unprepared for the absolute command that Gary had over her struggling body. She could barely move, much less escape. Every squirm either hit the brick wall of Gary's muscular grip, or he used Ivy's own movement against her, rocking her right back across his lap. In the words of Tad's gamer nerd buddies, Ivy was being "pwned."

"ENOUGH GARY!" Bethany O'Brien shouted.

Miraculously, Gary stopped. Once the swats stopped, the skin of Ivy's ass began to sizzle. It was worse pain than the time she broke her pinkie toe on the coffee table, and that was saying something.

Gary loosed his grip on her hair. Ivy collapsed right where she was. After minutes of wanting nothing more than to escape Gary's lap, when the opportunity arrived she merely crumpled into him with all her weight instead. All the struggling left her limp as a linguini noodle, as if she'd just swam 100 laps in the pool and been pulled onto the deck. All she could do is sob.

"I'm sorry," she bawled.

"You sure are," Gary said in his stern father voice. "You are a sorry sight to see, little split tail slut."

"Gary!" Beth shouted. "We need to have a talk, Gary. Out in the hall. Now!" Beth stormed out of the room.

Ivy felt Gary's hand start rubbing around the burning globes of her butt cheeks. Then he lifted her like a rag doll as he stood up. He lay her back on the bed and stared at the dark honey curls above her vagina. That smirky smile that Ivy always hated returned as his pupils swept a figure 8 past her bare nipples and locked with Ivy's eyes.

"Must be colder in here than I thought." He winked. He actually fricking winked.

CHAPTER TWO: RIKERS ISLAND

Ivy couldn't tell if Moby Dick actually sucked, or if her sour attitude was affecting her ability to mow through her required summer reading for eighth grade. She caught herself seething through mental replays of the previous three days, and then having to reread the same pages three or four times.

The worst part was the silence. No phone. It was locked in her mother's room somewhere. She had not spoken to Tad and every minute that passed without the chance to reassure her beloved -- after the humiliation Gary put him through -- drove her just that much more insane. She was in teenager lockdown. Solitary confinement. Technically she could go out of her room, but things between her and her mother were still so tense that Ivy barely left the bed. She couldn't even watch Netflix or Facetime Poke, because her mean-ass mother had taken her knockoff Walmart brand tablet away for two weeks as well.

Bitch, Ivy thought. Bitch bitch BITCH!

Gravel splashed against Ivy's second floor bedroom window. Ivy tossed Melville aside and looked down at the condo lawn below. Nothing. Poke's shoulder length brunette hair leaned out from behind the tree one unit over and Poke waved, looking up at Ivy. Poke was so slight, the tree made formidable camouflage.

Ivy pressed her palms to the glass. She didn't know what else to do. Her mom wouldn't let Ivy go outside or Poke come in. It was THAT kind of grounding.

Poke lifted up a cell phone. Not Poke's cell phone, Poke had traded in her Samsung for an iPhone 8 so she could Facetime with Ivy. The phone in Poke's hand was a little gray clamshell piece of crap. A burner. It had to be one of Poke's drug dealing brothers' disposable phones.

Poke looked around and then danced up and dropped the phone in the middle of the potted geraniums on the entry stoop to Ivy's condo below. Then she danced backwards, looking nervously at the big picture window of the living room directly below Ivy's bedroom. Poke looked up at Ivy one more time, kissed two fingers and touched where her heart was. She pumped a "stay strong!" fist in the air and ran back across the street and mounted her bicycle.

"Hey mom?" Ivy poked her head around the kitchen wall.

"You aren't going out," her mother answered tersely.

"I wasn't going to ask," Ivy shot back, defensive. "I was just checking to see if you got the mail yet?"

"No. Why?"

"Grandma had said that she was going to send an Amazon gift card for those yoga pants that didn't fit that we returned. I was thinking maybe it was in the mail."

"Hmmm." Beth was more interested in finishing her grocery list.

"Could you check for it?"

"In a bit."

Ivy huffed. "Okay, can I get off house arrest long enough to walk to the mail shack then?"

Beth looked at Ivy with suspicion. "Right there. Right back. Got it?"

"Yes, mother." Ivy pulled the mailbox key ring off the hook next to the coffee pot.

Every fiber of Ivy's mortal being wanted to lunge for Poke's hidden cell phone the moment she stepped out of the condo. But Ivy O'Brien knew Beth O'Brien like the back of her hand. Ivy sauntered leisurely toward the covered pergola that sheltered the grid wall of aluminum mailboxes for residents of the south end of the condominium complex. Ivy casually looked over her shoulder. Yep, her mother was watching her through the living room window, as if Ivy might bolt and make a run for Mexico at any moment. Ivy rolled her eyes for the benefit of no one.

There was only a Penny Saver circular in the mailbox. Usually these went right in the trash can next to the mailboxes. This time Ivy shuffled the coupon sheet back to the condo, just in case she needed a place to hide contraband coming into the house. Exactly as Ivy suspected, her mother was not watching her return walk. Ivy snatched the phone out of the planter and pushed it in her pocket. Through the front door. A guilty pulse pounding loud through her neck threatened to expose her crime, louder with every step as she made the turn to the stairway and bolted up to her room, two steps at a time.

"Oh. My. Fucking. Gawd!" Poke muttered.

"Every word the truth." Ivy pulled a troublesome Sketcher from under her butt. She was sitting in the bottom of her closet with the door closed. Whispering.

"Caught in the act! You are going to be a legend, you know that?"

"Don't start, Poke. You better not breathe a word of this to anybody."

"Bitch please," Poke said. "I don't have to. Word is out. Your boy has a big mouth. He told Jimmy Sterrack that he was all up in Gary's face, threatening to kick his ass. That's the only reason I didn't think any of it was true, yaknow? But then after three full days of radio silence from you, I got to thinking that maybe there was some truth to the whole terrible incident that would explain you going dark on me."

"You talked to Tad?"

"No. I heard from Duke who heard from Getty Wilders, who heard Tad talking to Jimmy Sterrack."

"Oh, Jesus Christ." Ivy covered her face with her hand and felt the warmth from her burning cheeks.

"Yeah!" Poke was just a bit too cheerful. "Like I said, you are already on your way to becoming a Holcomb Bridge Middle School moral tale. They are going to write epic poems about you. Future generations of Holcomb Hawks will sing the new lyrics to the school fight song and lean in to their BFF and whisper, 'Who is Ivy O'Brien and why should I keep the radio off when I'm bumpin' uglies?' You will probably make the front page of the Hawk Squawk. This tops Chelle Ann Burger's story about her dad finding the condom floating in the toilet. Hell, your story blows that one away. In the act! Wow!"

Ivy sighed. "You're supposed to by my friend, Poke. Could you please be a little less glib about my humiliation?"

"Sorry, Blondie. This kind of circus doesn't come through town every day. This is big. This is like… Drudge!"

"And Tad never called you?"

"Why would he?"

"I dunno. I just… I dunno. I thought maybe when he couldn't get ahold of me he'd try to get a message through you."

"Weird that he didn't pick up when you called," Poke said.

"Yeah," Ivy said. "I think he's at marching band practice. I'll try him later. Thanks for the phone, doll. Thank your brother for me."

"No prob. Moochie has a box of 'em. He won't miss it."

"Maybe you can drop off the charger in the same place tonight."

"Oh shit! Sorry. Didn't think of that. I'm not even sure if we have a charger for that phone. Half of Moochie's shit is stolen so I never know. I'll look for one and if I can find it I'll hide it in the same spot as before after dinner. So… Finish the story. Come on. Don't leave me hanging."

"Where was I?"

"Your mom had just apologized to you for letting Pervy McGurvy beat your ass."

"I didn't say she apologized. I said that she said it was a 'lapse of judgement' and it wouldn't happen again."

"Hey, from your hardass mom, that counts as not only an apology but a goddamn United Nations resolution. You think your Beth and Gary are going to stay broken up? She's dumped him before."

"I don't know, Poke."

"How's your butt?"

"Back to normal, mostly. Just a couple purple spots left."

"Fucker."

"Yeah," Ivy sighed. "Total a-hole. Monday we're going to Mom's OB/GYN to get me on Norplant. I guess she's waiting for the bruises on my butt to heal so nobody arrests her for child abuse."

"Norplant? Is that the kind they stick under your skin?"

"Yeah. I heard it hurts when they stick it in your arm. Mom says I've already proven that I'm not responsible enough to be trusted to take Ortho-Novum like everybody else. OH! Hey. That reminds me. A big part of the story. My mom, she's all like, 'Well I guess I can't trust you to stay by yourself anymore, Ivy Paige. I guess I'll have to cancel my cruise next month.' She said that. She's putting that on me."

"Oh bullshit," Poke said. "She already paid for the cruise. She has a reservation. She bought the airplane tickets, for fuck's sake. She's going on her stupid cruise. That's just momguilt bullshit, Blondie."

"I don't think so, Poke."

"Trust me. That drama will blow over."

"I heard her call the airline and ask about what it takes to get a refund. She called a couple of the girls she works with and her friend Mary Alstad to see if they wanted to buy her cruise ticket."

"Nooooo! Really? Oh shit, you are totally fucked. This is even worse than I thought. God damn your mom is a hardass! Gah! My mom would just handcuff me to a toilet and say, 'Seeya when I get back, bitch! Eat some toothpaste if you get hungry!' "

"I heard her calling my grandparents to see if they'd come stay here with me, but they had something going on in Chicago."

"Oh that would suck donkeys, girlfriend. Still. It has to be a bluff. Don't' worry too much."

"Get this, Poke. I hear her talking on the phone to Kelly Dawn Kisselhoff. One of the old gang who is going on the cruise, right? Mom's college roommate?"

"No clue, but go on."

"You met her. Three years ago? Right after you moved here from Vermont? Remember? She and her boys were staying here? She was at the military base? For her husband's funeral? At Fort Stewart?"

"Yeahno. Don't remember. Go on."

"Oh come on. You remember. The dad died in Afghanistan, and the mom was here with the two boys? And you were like busting their balls the whole time? One was really skinny and one was really fat and you said that when they stood next to each other they looked like the number ten?"

"OH! Yeah! Those dorks. The Russian boys."

"They aren't Russian. Pietr – the fat one – was adopted from Russia when he was just a baby. Kyle is her natural born son."

"Yeah. I remember now. They were older, right? Like two years older?"

"Yep."

Poke laughed. "The skinny one was like Mr. Junior Accountant. Talking with the grownups about the stock market and politics and shit like that? Like he didn't know he was a kid? Fucking dork. And the fat one just moping around and not saying anything."

Ivy flinched. "Well, in all fairness Poke, his dad had just gotten blown up."

"Whatevs. Anyway?"

"Well I hear my mom talking to Kelly Dawn and---"

"You sure overhear a lot."

"The walls are thin," Ivy shot back. "Shut up. So my mom is actually laying the groundwork with Kelly Dawn for backing out of the trip and I hear my mom stop and say, 'What? Your boys? How old are they? Fifteen! I can't leave my daughter in the charge of two fifteen year old boys!' And then there's this long pause and my mom starts saying 'yeah' over and over like she's just figured out the recipe for cold fusion, yaknow? Like she's actually seriously considering having Kelly Dawn's goofy boys babysit me."

Poke burst out laughing so loud that Ivy nervously cupped her hand over the phone to mute the noise. "Oh, that is totally going to happen!" Poke burst into her machine gun laugh again. "You! Babysat by a couple of dufus boys barely older than you are!"

"I know, right?" Ivy laughed too.

"You should get so lucky," Poke said. "Those two dipshits would have no idea what hit them! You'd have them painting your toenails before your mom backed out of the driveway."

Ivy laughed again. "Well she was talking about me going there. To Tampa. Where Kelly Dawn lives now. Us driving down there together. That's where Mom's cruise ship is docked anyway."

Poke's tone went serious. "Listen to yourself, Ivy. Your hardass maternal unit literally just pulled a hard-dicked boy out of your whiskerbiscuit, spraying cum all over the room like a dog. Do you seriously think there's a snowball's chance in hell that she's going to leave you alone for a two weeks with a couple retard boys?"

Ivy considered correcting Poke's exaggeration about Tad cumming all over the room, but it was Poke's nature to speak in hyperbole. Ivy let it go. "Er… Well, actually, from everything I've heard from mom's friends, Pietr and Kyle are straight-A students."

"Shocker. Smart retards are still retards."

"…and they are supposed to be like super responsible and stuff. Like they've already got a bunch of jobs and stuff and make a lot of money."

"Yeah. They own a lawnmower. Big whoop. I'm not impressed."

Ivy squirmed. "Yeah. Well. My mom sounded impressed. All mom's friends talk about the Kisselhoff boys like they walk on water. They also say the boys got super cute, but I don't see how that's even remotely possible. But Poke… I'm telling you. The way my mom was 'yeah yeah yeahing' at the end of that phone call…. There's a slim possibility that I might get stuck in Tampa while mom takes her cruise to Cuba. I almost think that she might be considering it."

"I forbid it," Poke said. "That's like the whole best two weeks of summer. Bad enough that you are in slut jail and can't go with me to see the new Captain Marvel movie. You can't leave me for a third of Summer Break, Blondie. I forbid it."

Ivy smiled. Poke was a great best friend. Even when she was being selfish, it was the kind of selfish that let you know you were valued. "You're right. It's ridiculous. Not going to happen. Shit! Mom's on the steps gotta go bye."

Ivy rolled out of her closet, pulled open her vanity drawer, and tossed the phone into the back. Before she could shut the drawer the phone vibrated. In the lighted message window, Poke's text scrolled across: "Not gonna happen."

Ivy grinned and pushed the drawer closed milliseconds before her mother opened her bedroom door without knocking.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Beth O'Brien's head scanned the room suspiciously.

"A lot of nothin'."

"Come downstairs for a minute. We need to talk."

CHAPTER THREE: MEANWHILE... FAR AWAY

"Don't be nervous. It's going to be okay." Oliver Coover reached over and patted the thigh of his little sister in the passenger seat.

Collins wasn't so little any more. She was twelve and a half. Collins had got her boobs early. She was barely eleven when she popped big conical buds. Oliver spent a stupid amount of time tracking Collins's physical development on the family photo cloud account. The dark top that Collins wore in the photo of her blowing out twelve candles pushed into the cream cheese frosting over a pan of brownies was nothing short of obscene. Her rapid development largely outpaced her mother's ability to rotate new clothes into Collins's closet.

That black tee with the chromatic glitter rainbow was a relic of Collins's years as a girl; one of her favorite go-to tops. After their father thumbed through the birthday party photos on the Nikon SD card -- before he uploaded them to the server -- he had a heart-to-heart whisper session with their mother. Mom made the shirt disappear from the laundry. Collins noticed and cried. She loved that shirt.

Oliver loved the shirt too. There were four pictures of Collins on the server that Oliver masturbated to. All the photos were recent, including the infamous boob-stretched black tee photo with Collins's mouth making a perfect sexy O-shape as she leaned in to blow out the candles. Two of them were bathing suit shots from the Goldfarb's pool party. The last one was simply Collins in a hoodie at last year's Pick Your Own Pumpkin event at the field behind the Carrollwood Farmers' Market. She was looking back over her shoulder at whoever took the picture, mom or dad. But that little smirk on her lips and that arched eyebrow... Gah. She was growing up. The kid was a looker. She threw off a sexy vibe.

Thinking about his sister "that way" was a crazy drug to Oliver. Collins had grown so fucking cute with her long wavy brunette hair, big rack, and long-waisted bottom. Her lips were plumping and she'd started dabbling in eyeliner. The eyeliner framing her huge eyes was what unravelled Oliver. It made her look a lot older. It made her look interested in boys. Eyeliner made other boys look at Collins the way Oliver had begun to look at Collins. But after Oliver finished masturbating to digital photos, he wanted to throw up. The hormonal drug turned into toxic guilt. And then a couple hours later he would lock his bedroom door again, grab a box of tissues, and navigate to that folder on the cloud drive knowing he was going to hate himself for scratching the itch once more.

"Hey, don't look so serious," Oliver forced a smile.

Collins tried to smile back, but she wasn't convincing.

"This is probably only going to take five minutes," Oliver said. "Ten, tops."

"Okay," Collins whispered.

Oliver turned the car into the haunted subdivision. They were getting close. It was all getting real. His heart began pumping nervous adrenalyn.

"Just do whatever he says," Oliver said. "I won't let him hurt you. And I won't watch. I'll leave if you want me to."

"NO!" Collins shouted. It startled Oliver. "Don't leave. Don't leave me there alone with him."

"Okay," Oliver said. "If that's what you want. But that means I'm probably going to see you naked."

"You've already seen me naked," Collins sighed. "That's why we're doing this, right? Because you saw me naked and you got caught stealing."

And that was the long and short of it. Two siblings. Two shames. One very twisted path to absolution for both of them.

Oliver had walked in Collins's bedroom without knocking to retrieve the family stapler from her vanity.

Little Riley Goldbarth from two houses down was hovering over Collins on the bed. Her top and her bra were up around her neck and Riley Goldbarth was going to town on Collins's puffy right nipple. He was sucking so hard and grunting so loud that he remained oblivious even after Collins saw Oliver and began slapping Riley's forehead trying to break the suction so she could pull her shirt down. Oliver got an eyeful the bare boobs he'd been fantasizing about for months.

Once Riley Goldbarth realized he'd been busted by the older brother, he quickly excused himself and took off with his boner still tenting in his pants.

Collins hooked her bra back together while her face flushed crimson with embarrassment. "Get out, Perv! Why don't you ever knock, you jerk!"

Oliver took a step back, but he stopped himself. He wasn't an assertive guy, but he knew he had something. He wasn't sure what, but he felt the currency of power swing his way. "You shouldn't be doing that," Oliver's voice quivered. "You're way too young for that stuff."

"So?" Collins wasn't usually a brat. She was a pretty good sister who minded Riley in the rare moments he asserted himself. But now she was angry and embarrassed. "You're not dad. Shut up. And GET OUT!"

Oliver bit his lip. "Maybe dad needs to know about this," he whispered.

"What?" Collins froze. "You wouldn't. You totally would not do that to me."

"You know he's been dropping hints that he is suspicious that you two are too old to be playing alone together," Oliver said. "I guess the old man was right."

"Don't say anything!" Collins pleaded. "Please! Olly! Don't."

Oliver bit his lip and arched his eyebrows.

"C'mon," Collins said, softening. "Don't be an asshole."

"Don't cuss," Oliver scowled. "Girls shouldn't cuss."

"Sor-ree! I'll mow the lawn for you if you just won't say anything," Collins pleaded.

This was actually a big deal. Collins hated yard work.

"You really want me to keep my mouth shut?" Oliver whispered.

"Yes. Olly. Don't tell dad. Or mom, for that matter. Please."

"What are you willing to do? What's your offer? What are you willing to put on the table?" Oliver asked.

"Anything," Collins pleaded.

"Think about that for a second." Oliver squinted his eyes to convey warning. "Think about what 'anything' means."

Collins blinked. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying 'anything' might mean something to me that it doesn't mean to you."

"I don't understand. What do you want, Oliver? My birthday money?"

Oliver laughed. "I don't want your money, Cols," he said. His pulse jumped as he tried to project calmness. He started to sweat his pits.

"So what? What do you want?" Collins asked.

What Oliver wanted was to take some pictures of Collins. Pictures a lot sexier than the photos on the family cloud share. It didn't cross his mind to ask for sexual favors. Just some nudie photos. That was his frame-of-reference for his impure thoughts about his sister. Jerking it to her pixelated likeness.

Oliver opened his mouth to say it. But the words wouldn't come out. He lost his nerve. "I'm going to think about it for a while," he nodded. "Mom works late on Thursday and Dad has Rotary Club. Come home right after school Thursday. I'll either come up with my version of 'anything,' or I'll just change my mind and sit mom and dad down after dinner and let them know their daughter is seriously messing around with Riley Goldfarb."

"Please don't do that," Collins whispered.

"I imagine that mom and dad will call Sherman and Hazel Goldfarb and invite them to come sit in the living room while they discuss what's going to happen to you and Riley."

Collins looked like she was going to throw up.

Oliver nodded, turned, and left her room. He walked straight to his room and locked the door. He came so hard that he shot jizz in his own hair.

But before Thursday came there was Wednesday. And on Wednesday as Oliver walked out of the whoosh-whoosh automatic doors of the Wesley Chapel Best Buy onto the sidewalk, a loss prevention goon clapped his hand on Oliver's shoulder. Oliver had no idea where the guy came from. It was like the big black dude jumped off the roof of the building and landed next to him in a movie superhero pose, one massive hand clamping at Oliver's scapula.

In the loss prevention office in the back of the store, the black guy and a woman who was the store assistant manager made Oliver empty his pockets of everything, including the Apple iPad Stylus Pen that he hadn't paid for.

"It's not for me," Oliver mumbled, his face burning with shame. "I'm going to a birthday party for this girl from school. I was trying to impress her."

"You never know,"The Loss Prevention guy shook his head. "Tex Watson had four kids in prison and he was a murderer. Maybe this birthday girl likes bad boys with Class B felonies and a juvie sheet. 'Cause that's your future, son."

"Please don't call the police," Oliver begged.

But the police had already been called. Oliver was in a world of hurt. He ended up sitting in the back of the cruiser with his hands cuffed behind his back. The cop chatted-up the Loss Prevention guy. Oliver couldn't hear what they were saying, but when they both burst out in laughter, it drove Oliver insane.

Eventually the cop returned to the car. "Okay, Sport," the cop said over his shoulder. "Best you give me a phone number for mom and dad now. That way they might be waiting for you at the station and you'll have to spend less time in intake than if I have to go researching numbers on the mainframe."

"Can you call somebody else instead?" Oliver sniffed.

"Why, you got a lawyer on retainer, Sport? No, just mom or dad. You pick. I need to hear some numbers in the next ten seconds or I'm putting the cruiser in drive and you get to see the glorious parts of the Pasco County Sheriff's office that the we don't show the Boy Scout tours."

Oliver said a name.

The cop stopped smirking and turned to look at Oliver. "She's not your mom."

"No. But I'm good friends with her son. Best friends."

"Yeah?"

Oliver nodded. "Yeah, since grade school. We're tight. She'll vouch for me. I've never done this before. This was really stupid. She'll tell you that I'm not a thief. Not usually." So many lies.

The cop blinked. "Kid, are you shitting me?"

Oliver was definitely shitting the cop, but Oliver also knew... well hoped, actually... that there was a slim chance his bluff would work. It worked for Henry Flannard when Henry got caught spray painting graffiti on the high school utility shed. It had worked for Cole Ashanti when he got busted breaking into vending machines with a crowbar.

The cop took a long, suspicious look over his shoulder at Oliver. He reached up and keyed the walkie clipped to his shoulder. "Base this is Romeo-nine."

After a moment the radio crackled. "Go ahead Nine."

"Hey, Gina, can you run a name by Codi Mallory in the Clerk's office? See if she knows a sixteen-year old boy. Name of Oliver Keith Coover? Maybe runs with her boy?"

It took eight minutes for the cop to get the response. Oliver's shirt was dripping flop sweat. It felt like an hour.

The cop sighed. "Your lucky day, Mr. Coover. Just the same, don't darken the door of this Best Buy ever again."

Thirty minutes later Oliver was shaking so hard that he had to pull his car into the parking lot of a Chinese Buffet to collect himself. He rested his head against the steering wheel and wheezed; half relief, have residual panic working its way out of him like a fever.

His phone rang. Oliver didn't recognize the number, but he knew he had to answer the phone.

"Coover..." sang a familiar voice. "Dropping names today, bro? Hope you didn't hurt yourself, dropping names. When my mom called me, I almost told her I didn't know you from fuck. But then... I remember seeing you at Countryside Mall weekend before last. I'm guessing that was your sister with you in the Food Court?"

Oliver said nothing.

"Hello? You there, Coover? Or do I need to make another phone call saying I confused you with somebody else. Maybe I don't know you. Maybe we're not pals after all. Maybe Officer Allejandro needs to circle back and process you into booking."

"I'm here," croaked Oliver.

"So answer the question. Was that your sister or not?"

Oliver's head spun. He knew Mallory was a fucking psychopath, but he hadn't anticipated Collins getting dragged into this sticky web.

"She's, uh..." Oliver stammered. "She's twelve, Mallory."

"Twelve! Holy shit! Tits like that and she's fucking twelve? Well that's pretty awesome, Coover. But you know what they say, 'if there's grass on the field, play ball!', right? And Coover? You better be in a position to make sure she wants to play ball with me."

Oliver managed to find the mute button before he opened his car door and puked.

"Coover? Coover?"

"I'm here." Oliver pressed the mute again to spit.

"Saturday afternoon. If it isn't going to happen, say so now. If my boys have to come looking for you, you're going to wish you'd just opted for what was behind Cell Door Number One."

"What does she need to... You know. What does she need to do to make this right?"

"Ah, nothing crazy. She's twelve, right? We don't want to scar her for life, poor thing. Maybe just a handy. Maybe a little sucky-sucky. Nothing she can't handle. I'll be gentle."

"I... I have to talk to her first," Oliver said. "I don't know what she'll say."

"Ahkay," the boy's voice went flat. "I'll call my mom. Enjoy your night in lockup."

"No wait! I'll... I'll make sure it happens."

"Saturday, right?"

"Saturday."

"I'll call you Friday with details. Don't fuck this up, Coover."

"We're here." Oliver confirmed the house number against the notes on his phone. "Just be cool and do what he tells you. Okay?"

Collins's eyes were moist. "Okay," she whispered.

"You've seen this guy around," Oliver said. "He's not a fat slob or anything. Maybe you'll think he's cute even. Won't be horrible."

"I know who he is," Collins said. "Everybody knows him. That's why I said I'd do this for you. He's really good looking, or I wouldn't have said yes. But you better not tell anything about Riley Goldfarb to dad or anybody. If you do I'm totally going to rat you out for this, Olly. And you'll get in way more trouble than me."

"Okay, okay," Oliver said. "Don't go weak kneed on me now."

"Let's get this over with," Collins said. "And I mean it. You don't take your eyes off me, Olly. Not for a second. I've seen the way you look at me lately. I know you want to see this, so get it out of your system, okay? And then leave me alone."

"What does that mean?" Oliver said in his most indignant voice.

But Coover was out the passenger door before he finished the short sentence. Oliver scrambled behind.

"Coover," the boy at the door said in a bored tone.

Oliver had not been expecting anybody but Mallory to answer the door. "Hey Vasquez. I was looking for..."

"Yeah, he's here. Come in," said Vasquez.

Collins nervously grabbed Oliver's hand in hers and they stepped through the door and down into a sunken living room. Mallory was splayed out on a big sectional couch, tapping a lighter to the bowlstem of a bong. Besides Vasquez and Mallory, there were three other boys.

"Hey," Oliver nodded at Mallory. "I wasn't expecting a full house. Where do you want to do this? Your room?"

Mallory held a finger up to indicate he wasn't ready to talk. Then he exhaled a slow, dense cloud of weed. "This is fine," Mallory said. He coughed. "Coover, you sit in that chair there." Mallory pointed to a ladderback kitchen chair opposite the open end of the sectional couch.

"Naw, I'm good," Oliver said. "We don't have a lot of time. I've got to have Collins back for -- OOF!"

Oliver collapsed to the floor. The big black guy from the football team had rabbit punched him in the kidney. Oliver struggled to breathe through the searing pain. Seconds later he was being manhandled into the ladderback chair by the black boy and Vasquez.

"Shit, I hate repeating myself," Mallory yawned. "So let's not test me today, okay?"

Oliver nodded, still struggling for breath.

"Hey, cutiepie!" Mallory said to an astonished and terrified Collins. "Sorry about that. Nobody's going to hurt you, Darlin'. Not if you just follow the rules. And you are going to follow the rules for me. Right?"

Tears crested Collins lower eyelids when she nodded, unable to break the gaze at her suffering brother.

"Your name is Collins?" Mallory asked. Then. "Look at me!"

Collins flinched and looked at the boy she knew by reputation.

"Answer me. I just taught your brother a lesson about me having to repeat myself. Fellas?"

The black boy and Vasquez hovered over Oliver. The two remaining boys stood and each picked up one of the two horse riding crops that had been on the lamp table next to Mallory. The two boys swished the crops through the air menacingly and smirked evil grins.

"My name is Collins!" she shouted.

Everyone laughed except Oliver.

"Good. That's what I'm talking about," smiled Mallory. "Sweetheart, get those clothes off right now."

Collins froze, but only for a second. One of the boys with the riding crop started tapping the leather part against his hand, making a cracking sound. He looked impatient.

Collins kicked off her sneakers. She popped the buttons on her jeans and shimmied them down to the floor. Oliver blinked. He hadn't really seen this coming, but of course it was on-brand for Mallory and his thugs. Oliver watched his little sister struggle out of her too-tight jeans and wondered why she had picked those before they left the house, knowing full-well where she was going. (Kind of.)

He also realized that the ironed white button-up top was a little formal of a choice for giving a handjob to a strange boy to keep her brother out of jail. But as her little shaking fingers struggled to unbutton, Oliver realized that Collins had dressed to look older. It was her most mature get-up, the one she wore whenever her mother took her shopping at the upscale International Mall.

But then the crisp ironed shirt was reduced to a crumpled pile on top of the jeans and Collins tried to cover herself with her arms as she stood in socks, panties and a bra.

"Don't stop now," Mallory laughed. "Shit's just gettin' good, baby!"

Collins shot a look at Oliver that made him want to die. She reached behind her and unhooked the bra. It fell forward and off. Oliver's eyes locked onto the creamy, pink-hatted jugs, as did every other boy in the room.

Collins looked at Mallory with pleading eyes.

Mallory made a hurry-up rolling motion with his index finger, grinning like a mental patient and taking another bubbling pull off the bong. Collins thumbed into the waistband of her panties and pushed them down while her knees marched upwards. Oliver hadn't expected her to have such a thick triangle of hair. But it only made sense. No reason the bottom half of her would be any less farther along than the top half of her.

She was - in a word - spectacular.

Mallory and his boys hooted.

"Doesn't look twelve to me!" laughed Mallory. "How 'bout you guys!"

Many crude comments whizzed past Collins. Her creamy white skin flushed red from her chin to her nipples. She leaned down to pull off her socks.

"No!" Interrupted Mallory. "Leave your socks on. Those are adorable. I dig bitches in socks."

Collins stood up and looked about the room nervously, as if she was trying to make sense out of being naked in front of so many boys.

Mallory leaned over and tapped the large flat-topped wooden chest in front of the couch. It looked like something pirates would bury treasure in, but its function was obviously a coffee table for drinks. "Jump up here, Collins. Stand up and let's take a good look at you."

Collins nervously stepped up on the chest.

Mallory looked up at her. "Drop your hands down to your sides," he said. "Next time you cover up those fabulous tits, you are going to get your ass stung by a crop."

Collins self consciously dropped her wrists to her hips and squirmed at the humiliating exposure.

"Here's the way this works, Collins," Mallory said. "A helpless little thing like you... Well it would just be a crime for you to have to blowbang this many dudes." Mallory gestured at all of his friends. "That wouldn't be fair. So I'm going to make you a -- Paulo!"

One of the boys standing next to Collins sliced his crop through the air and stung it hard into Collins ass. She screamed and yipped. Her feet skipped on the chest and she momentarily slipped a few inches in her socks. She regained her balance.

"What did I tell you about covering up those tits, girl?" Mallory said.

"I'm sorry, I forgot!" Collins said between sobs.

"Well don't!" Mallory scowled.

"Fuck this," Oliver said. He launched out of his chair. He wasn't sure exactly where he was going -- to grab Collins like a football and sprint for the door or to deck the asshole who cropped her -- but it didn't matter because he didn't even fully extend upwards out of the chair before the two goons flanking him grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him back down. This time the black kid held his wrists bent painfully behind the chair while the other kid looped some kind of bungee cord around them and tied them in place.

"As I was saying," Mallory cleared his throat. "I'm a reasonable guy. And you are obviously a VERY good sister to come out and blow a boy to keep your brother out of jail. A VERY good sister. And loyalty like that is to be respected. And as much as I would LOVE to push your cocksucking little babydoll mouth onto my choade, as fate would have it, I forgot Dante's birthday last month. I know! I'm a shitty friend. I still owe him a present. So you, Darlin', you're going to give Dante a blowjob. And then after Dante creams your mouth, you can go home after you're done. Does that sound fair?"

Collins nodded and rubbed the hot welt on her butt.

"Have you ever sucked a cock before?" Mallory asked.

Oliver's jaw dropped when his little sister nodded in the affirmative.

"Awesome!" Mallory laughed. "So you know how this works?"

Collins nodded again.

"Great. Just a couple more things and then we'll get you on your knees. First," Mallory held up a finger, "you're going to dance for us. We've put together a little playlist of some songs we like. You're going to dance on the table there until the playlist is over. And if, at any point, you should stop dancing..." Mallory looked at the black boy. He punched Oliver in the stomach hard enough to double him over as far as he would go with his hands bound behind the chair.

"So I know you're not going to stop dancing until we tell you. Right?"

Collins shook her head in the negative, the concern for her brother unmistakable.

"And here's the other part," Mallory said.

The black kid and the other goon next to Oliver grabbed Oliver's sweatpants and yanked them down to his ankles. A moment later his underpants were pulled down on top of the tangle.

"Here's the other part," Mallory repeated. "Your brother isn't going to take his eyes off you. Not even for a second. If he does..."

Both of the boys with the crops landed them on each of Collins's butt cheeks, but not very hard. She still yipped and skipped her feet.

"If you stop dancing, you brother pays the price. If your brother closes his eyes any longer than to blink, YOU pay the price. And by the time Dante finishes blowing his load on your tonsils, if your brudder there hasn't popped a chubby... Like I said... You are home free. But! If he pops a boner watching you dance and suck, well, Darlin'... Then the rules change. If brudder gets wood, then you're going to blow all of us. Including your brother."

Collins gulped.

Oliver cringed.

Mallory pressed the play button on his phone and music began pumping through the speakers by the stereo. He gave Collins a stern look of warning.

Collins danced.

Having no other choice, Oliver watched Collins dance. Unfortunately, Collins knew how to dance sexy. And, unfortunately, she did.

CHAPTER FOUR: I-75

Ivy repositioned her pillow against the Rav4's passenger window for the eleven thousandth time. She sighed a passive aggressive huff of venom for the twelve thousandth time.

"Florida takes forever," Ivy mumbled to herself. It was something Poke had said. "It's one state, but Florida takes forever. You like drive for two days through it and you're still in fucking Florida." As with most of Poke's broad observations, she was mostly correct. Florida takes forever. Trying to nap through the monotony of the endless drive wasn't working. The sun was too bright. Her mother was changing lanes too often. Ivy managed to drift off once and her mother almost immediately turned on the radio and started scanning for her Dinosaur Rock stations. Ivy couldn't get back to sleep. Ivy's patience was already thin, but that particular discourtesy made Ivy want to stab her mother in the neck with the Slim Jim she bought at a gas station in Valdosta.

Ivy seethed and stared out at the strange, high fences that lined each side of I-75. The tall wood-and-wire fences holding back the swamps looked like something out of Jurassic World; a fence meant to keep an Allosaurus from dancing out of the trees, grabbing a church van in its stubby arms, and shaking a tumble of righteous teenage daycampers singing 'Michael Row the Boat' down its ravenous maw, like so many Tic Tacs.

Ivy thought about Tad. She thought about tad ten times an hour. She thought about Tad again. It had been 23 days since she saw him in person, the night he slipped out of Gary's grip and ran for the door. He was so strange on the phone the few times Ivy had been able to talk to him on Poke's disposable phone before it ran out of battery charge. Tad was weird. Distant. Short. That was to be understood, Ivy thought. Gary had manhandled him pretty bad. That would traumatize anybody.

Eff Gary. This was all Gary's fault.

Her mom certainly did not help matters when she humiliated Ivy by calling Tad's mother and telling her that Tad was not to see Ivy ever again outside of school. Never mind that they were going to be going to two different schools for a whole year. So unnecessary. So much mommadrama. But Tad's mom may have put some pressure on Tad to pretend to play along with the ruse. Beth O'Brien had not specified the reason for her edict, even though Ivy could hear Tad's confused mother press for an explanation. Beth O'Brien didn't give a specific reason, which made it totally obvious what the specific reason really was.

Eff her mother. This was all her mother's fault.

But three nights ago Beth O'Brien forgot to unplug the wifi router before she fell asleep. Ivy had been lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about Tad. She absently pulled her tablet off the nightstand to play a few levels of Ducks Amuck! because that game didn't require internet connection.

That's when Ivy noticed a new email notification that shouldn't have been there. She had cleared her email just before her mom went to bed. But there was a little green number, right there on the envelope icon. It turned out to be American Eagle spam, but glorious spam nonetheless. The internet was still on!

She checked and Tad had a green light by his TrueChat photo. She held her breath and tapped Tad's photo. He answered.

"Hey cutie!" he smiled. His face was too close to the camera. It looked like a funhouse filter.

"Hey baby," Ivy smiled back.

"I can't see you," Tad said, backing away from the camera a proper distance. He was sprawled out in his bed wearing pajama bottoms and an Owl City concert T-shirt. "What's wrong with your camera?"

"Oh, I'm in the dark. Hang on." Ivy clicked her nightstand lamp to life.

"That's better," Tad smiled. "You look great!"

Ivy's heart almost exploded. This was the Tad she remembered. He was smiling and relaxed. This was Tad before Tad got weird on her. This was pre-Gary, pre-drama Tad. This was the Tad she was going to marry one day. "You too. You got your hair cut."

"Oh yeah. That's right. You haven't seen my new style yet have you? Got it a couple weeks ago."

"It's cute."

"Harry Styles."

"Err…" Ivy said. "Doesn't look much like Harry Styles' hair."

"Not One Direction Harry Styles. The new solo album Harry Styles."

"Haven't heard it," she said. "I'm out of the loop. I always heard the new stuff from you playing it."

"Yeah." Tad absently scratched his balls through his pajama bottoms as if he forgot he was on camera. "It is getting no airplay on Star94, but it's amazeballs. You need to check it out like yesterday. Hey show me your boobs, willya?"

"What?" Ivy asked, clearly stunned at the abruptness of Tad's topic shift.

"Take your top off. Let me see your tits. I haven't seen them in like forever."

"Tad!"

"Come on, Ivy. It's been too long."

Ivy looked at her bedroom door that had no lock. She listened to the quiet lull of the house, mindful of any bumps or squeaks that might mean her mother was still on the prowl.

"Okay," Ivy relented. She pulled off her PINK! nightshirt and repositioned the tablet so Tad could see her creamy globes and the little pink cones pointing luridly toward Tad's glowing image.

"Yeah, those are so nice. You've got such great titties, Ivy. Mmm. Beautiful." Tad began pulling at an erection under his PJs.

"You are such a perv," Ivy said, unable to hide her smile.

"They are. Play with them for me, will you?"

Ivy blushed. This was not her style, but it had been so long and she was deeply relieved to see the boy she remembered inside the frame of her tablet. "You mean like this," Ivy whispered. She pulled at her nipples one at a time, making slow milking tugs with her free hand. She tried to remember how the girls in Poke's porno videos had done it. Real slow. And their face looked like they were eating Boston Crème pie as they did it.

"Yeah," Tad's voice dropped an octave. "Nice. Use both hands."

"Kay. Hang on." Ivy slid up on her knees and positioned the tablet against her pillow. "Can you see okay?"

"Hell yeah," Tad smiled.

Ivy pinched each nipple and pulled until her fingers snapped off. Alternating. "You like that, sweetie?"

"Oh man." Tad got breathy. He had moved the camera so his crotch was out of frame, but Ivy could see the motion of Tad's arm and knew he was masturbating slowly. "That angle makes your tits look huge."

"I wish you were here to taste them," Ivy said in a babydoll voice. The lurid words coming out of her mouth surprised her. Where was this tramp act coming from? Did every girl have it in their DNA? Is it something girls naturally just did after they had their V-card punched?

"Me too. I would totally suck those tits if I was there."

"Oh, I know, baby. You suck my boobies so good."

Tad's arm was moving a lot faster now. "Yeah. You got so wet when I sucked 'em. Your pussy was so wet after I sucked on your tits. Wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"It was wet."

"What was wet?"

Ivy blushed back into reality. Dirty talk was not yet second nature. It felt humiliating. "You know," she said coyly. "Down there. My vagina."

Tad abruptly stopped stroking. His expression was clearly annoyed. "Your… va-gi-na? Really? C'mon Ivy. Say it. Say it right."

Ivy sighed. "My pussy? Is that what you want me to say? My pussy was all wet and sticky?"

"Yeah, that's it." Tad resumed beating off. "Take off your panties. Show me your wet pussy."

Ivy looked over her shoulder at the door once more.

"Ohh… I don't…" Ivy sighed. "You aren't recording this, are you?"

"Of course not!"

"You are a liar Thaddeus Lourette." Ivy poked a finger at the camera. "I can tell when you lie. You are recording me."

"Swear to God."

"You don't believe in God." Ivy hooked her fingers in the band of her panties and swung her legs out of them without lifting her bum off the bed. "You better not show this to anybody."

Tad smiled a guilty acknowledgement. "Never. I promise. Just for me."

Ivy went back up on her knees and spread them so the camera angle showed everything. Looking at the postage stamp image of herself in the corner of the TrueChat app, she was surprised by how big her vagina lips were. They seemed really big, but maybe it was the angle. She had never noticed what her vagina looked like to others.

Others? There was only one "other" and his name was Tad Lourette. It was okay. Ivy reminded herself to relax and enjoy the connection with her guy, even if it was through a chatcam.

Ivy pinched a nipple with one hand and pushed the first two fingers of her other hand down through her curly muff and split them in a V that exposed her swirling inner sanctum to the lens. That really made her meaty vagina lips pop out. Surely that was not normal, was it? She'd seen Poke naked and Poke didn't have giant wings falling out of her vagina.

She stopped looking at her own digital reflection and focused on Tad's horny face. He was really pumping his penis hard. Ivy let her lower fingers slip around her clit and dip down a little bit to pick up her wetness. She was wetter than she expected. She could hear her slippery slathery sounds, just like when Tad had fingered her. For a girl who had only masturbated three or four times in her life, her vagina responded vigorously to the ego rush of watching Tad's horny expression eat her up. She had his complete attention.

"That is so fucking hot," Tad hissed. "You are such a slut. You've got a slutty puss. It's like so wet."

Ivy bristled at being called a slut, but she knew Tad was in the throes of his sex-charged hormones. It was okay. Even her vagina seemed to like Tad's rough talk. Her clit popped out and kissed her index finger as it slid by. Ivy felt a warmth washing over her. She was breathing heavier. Her butthole began to tingle the way it did when she was little and masturbated with her plush stuffed Simba toy. Before her mother caught her. Funny. She had almost forgotten that incident. She had been "caught in the act" once before when she was nine. Suppressed memory.

"Why did you stop," Tad asked.

"What? Oh, sorry."

"Hang on. You want to see me too, right? It's only fair." Tad slipped out of his bottoms and knelt with his phone positioned low against his pillow, mirroring Ivy's pose. She couldn't tell if Tad's erection was really that bright red, or if it was the light from his bedroom making it look that way. His testicles were smaller than she remembered and there was a lot more hair than she recalled from their dark fumblings and the bright lights of… of what came after.

Tad gripped his penis and started pulling. "I bet you like that, don't you?"

Actually Ivy didn't like it. It was weird. Seeing Tad's angry red pecker poking out the top of Tad's camera-distorted large fist was a bit disturbing. But she knew all that boy energy was because of her, because Tad loved her. She relaxed and resumed a hypnotic circle of her wet folds, now with three fingers because her vagina seemed to be ballooning larger under her ministrations. "You're so sexy," Ivy said. It seemed like a suitable non answer.

"Oh…" Tad's expression was that of a stoned ape. "Oh yea—" he stammered. Then Tad came in a series of pearly strings that seemed to go on forever. That was kind of interesting, in a gross way. She didn't expect so much sperm to come out of Tad. He just kept pulling and wet strings of goo just kept jumping from the crimson tip of his penis. A subconscious part of Ivy was almost relieved that all that sperm had not ended up inside her. Surely she'd be pregnant right now if he had. So much. So much cum for one boy.

A moment later Tad's camera went grey-black as he wiped his seed off his screen with a sock. Ivy wasn't sure what the rules were. What was she supposed to do now? Finish playing with herself? Orgasm? Stop? Talk sexy? Talk about the Braves?

The next thing she saw was Tad's head flopping into his pillow. "Thanks, Ivy. That was super sexy."

Ivy slid under her covers and pointed the tablet camera at her face. "That was fun. Hey, I think we need to talk abo—"

"Hang on," Tad interrupted. He examined his phone with squinty eyes and smiled at what he saw. "Hey I've got another chat breaking in. I'll chat you back in a little bit, okay?"

"What? Who? Who is it?"

"Gotta go. Catchya." Tad was gone.

Ivy stared at her tablet in utter disbelief. How dare Tad bump their chat for an incoming message! How rude! After she just performed naked for him until he came! What a load of crap!

She would tell him so when he chatted back later that night. Which he never did. His green light went gray a few minutes later when Ivy tried to tap back into the conversation. Ivy wondered if he really turned his phone off or if he switched her to Ghostmode.

"Did you say something?" Beth O'Brien asked.

Ivy snapped out of her daydream about Tad and realized that she had said something. She had said 'Eff Tad. This is all Tad's fault.'

"Just mumbling in my sleep, mom."

"Oh okay. Your eyes were open and it sounded like you were swearing."

By the time Ivy saw the first signs announcing double-digit mileage between the Rav4 and Tampa, her little legs were barking to get out of the car, stand, and walk the numbness out of her butt. She had been nervously thrumming her fingernail against the ridges of the Norplant sticks buried in the inside of her left arm and the skin was raw. She had to pee. Mostly she was stir crazy from sitting too long.

"Can we please stop somewhere and pee?" Ivy begged. "I'm not going to make it."

"We're almost there," her mother repeated. "You'll make it. If we stop again I'm not going to get there in time. I'm already cutting it insanely close. The cruise ship weighs anchor at 5 p.m. We can't stop every hour to pee, and I can't get pulled over by a cop."

Ivy pouted and crossed her legs. "How close is Kelly Dawn's house to the beach?"

"I'm not exactly sure."

"Is it close enough for me to walk there?"

Beth O'Brien's mouth made a funny shape and Ivy could tell that her mother knew exactly how close Kelly Dawn's house was to the Gulf waters and that distance was definitely too far to walk. "Pietr just turned sixteen. He has his license. And a car. He bought a car with his own money, isn't that neat?"

Ivy shrugged. "I guess."

"The Kisselhoff Boys work their butts off. You should find a boyfriend who is as motivated as those two are."

"Wait," Ivy said, "So… I'm allowed to date now? I thought--"

"When you are older, I mean."

"Yeah," Ivy rolled her eyes. "Of course." She picked up her mother's phone and swiped to the navigation app. "Is this Kelly Dawn's address you've got mapped in?"

Beth O'Brien nodded.

Ivy swiped around until she centered the map on their destination icon. A grid of streets in a town called Trinity. Then she kept widening the screen with her thumb and forefinger until she could see water. "Crap," Ivy huffed. "They are like thirty miles from a beach. This is going to suck so bad, I should just open the car door and roll out into the highway to my death now and get it over with."

The door locks thunked. Ivy looked at her door and realized her mother had unlocked it. She looked back at her mother with incredulous eyes.

Beth O'Brien looked back at Ivy and smiled a shit-eating grin.

Ivy O'Brien squinted and fumed.

CHAPTER FIVE: THE BROTHERS KISSELHOFF

The driveway was packed with rental cars. All of the girls had met up at Kelly Dawn's house as a staging point for the big cruise ship departure. Beth O'Brien had to park the Rav4 on the street. Ivy unfolded from the car and stretched. Her joints bubbled and popped with relief. Her bladder ached. Kelly Dawn's house was bigger and newer and nicer than Ivy expected. Kelly Dawn was a single mother, like Beth O'Brien. A widow. Kelly Beth was Assistant General Manager for an Outback Steakhouse, and that certainly did not explain why there was so much disparity between Ivy and Beth's little townhouse condo and the big two story McMansion they parked in front of. Perhaps houses were cheaper in Tampa than they were back home in Alpharetta. That had to be it.

"COOKIE MONSTER!!!" Kelly Dawn appeared from the door of the house, stepping in barefoot awkwardness across first the hot concrete patio, and then the St. Augustine, all the while holding an absurdly full glass of Chardonnay aloft like a torch.

"Cookie monster?" Ivy mumbled.

"Don't ask," Beth O'Brien mumbled back before squealing "Juggles!" and hugging Kelly Dawn so vigorously that wine was spilled.

"And you, Ivy Paige O'Brien!" Kelly Dawn swapped hug targets. "Good lord and little fishes, you are a lovely sight!"

"Thank you," Ivy grunted as all the air was hugged out of her lungs.

Kelly Dawn stepped back and looked Ivy over. "Cookie, I'm not so sure about this arrangement anymore. I thought you had a skinny little stick of pigtails and braces for a daughter! Now I don't think my boys will be able to keep their mitts off this one, she's so pretty!"

Ivy blushed and concentrated very hard on not rolling her eyes.

Three more squealing adult women poured out onto the lawn and hugged Beth O'Brien first, and then Ivy. They all had a funny smirk when they looked at Ivy. Obviously they all knew. They knew the Tad story. Of course they did. Ivy "Caught in the Act" O'Brien was infamous in at least two states. This sucktastic summer was getting worse by the second. Ivy considered crawling back into the Rav 4, locking the doors, and staying there until either school started again or her bladder burst and she drowned in her own urine filling the interior of the car. She'd just peacefully lose consciousness watching the two Queen Palm trees in Kelly Dawn's front yard sway against a blue sky filtered green by her own urine gurgling up to the roof liner.

And that's when the dark haired boy strutted out of the front door.

Ivy was dumbstruck. She was looking at possibly the cutest boy she had ever seen in person. His dark hair was tousled and too long and too unkempt for the current styles. But perfectly too long, and perfectly unkempt. Perfectly imperfect. Likewise, she couldn't decide if his dark, thick eyebrows were too thick and bushy, or perfectly too thick and bushy. There was some definite Jonas brothers shit going on with those sexy eyebrows. His lips were thick and his mouth was wide, but not to a fault. Just enough to shape into a super cute smirk of utter confidence. His nose was straight, but just a little too long. Or was it? No. Yes. No. The jaw that dropped out of his ears was like the cattle scoop on an old locomotive... Frick, he even had the cleft dimple in his chin.

He was dressed in jeans and an Old Navy graphic T that was just a size too small for his chest. His torso made a hard V. His high shoulders spilled down into pronounced triceps that stretched the arm holes of his T to where they looked like they might split if he flexed too hard.

Fitchy. That was Poke's word for űbercute boys who dressed well: Fitchy, after the Abercrombie models on the posters in the mall store windows. Poke was selective with her designation of a "Fitchy" boy, but none of them were as perfect as the dreamboat steaming across the lawn toward her mother. Jesus Christ, that confident walk of his made the inside of Ivy's knees itch.

"Mizz O'Brien!" he said, wrapping Ivy's mother into a big bear hug.

"Gracious, Kyle!" Beth O'Brien hugged him back.

"Mizz O, how is that you seem to get younger every time I see you? You look terrific!"

Beth O'Brien blushed. "Aren't you the smooth talker, Kyle. I'll give you just two more hours to stop that right now!"

Kyle? Kyle? Frickin' Kyle Kisselhoff? This is what five years could do to a boy? This was the little dufus nerd? Ivy heard the sound of her own voice escape in a barely audible hiss between her teeth, "Goddamn howdy."

"Kyle, you remember Ivy from when we were up in Atlanta," Kelly Dawn said.

Kyle nodded at Ivy and smiled, "Of course. Great to have you, Ive. Pietr and I are going to show you a great time."

Ivy's inner bitch reminded her that she despised being called "Ive." Ivy shushed her inner bitch. This boy could call her "Ike" and she'd be just fine with it.

"It's starting to look like the Expressway at rush hour out here," said Kyle, looking over all the visitors' cars parked around the house.

"Is it okay that I'm parked here?" Beth asked. "Do I need to move my car?"

"Mizz Oh, you don't need to do a darn thing but step inside and pour yourself a drink. Pietr and I have made arrangements to park all your cars in the lot behind the subdivision pool. We will take care of that after we carry your bags inside. All you ladies will take a couple Ubers down to the Port of Tampa while Pee and I haul all your luggage in the back of his truck." Kyle held his hand out for Beth's keys.

"Well, that's wonderful," Beth smiled. "You've thought of everything."

Kyle smiled a blast of teeth back at Beth and Ivy noticed her mother blush and go gooey. You can take the girl out of Junior High, Ivy thought, but I guess you can't take the Junior High out of the girl.

"I think I will have that drink. This sun is already starting to bake my brain and make me a little dizzy."

"Yeah," Ivy muttered below her breath. "There's definitely a son making you embarrass yourself alright, mom."

The front door flagged once more, this time another boy who looked absolutely nothing like a boy burst out with a cocktail in his hand. An unleashed epitome of Yellow Labrador followed at his heels. "You're an appletini girl, aren't you Missus O'Brien? Did I remember that correctly?"

"Oh my gawd, Pietr," Beth gasped. "Is that really you? Kelly Dawn's photos didn't prepare me for this."

"Beefcake starter kit," muttered Tilly -- aka "Bubbles" -- to Beth in a conspiratorial whisper.

Ivy blinked. And then blinked again. There was no way the mini-mountain of teenage boy couriering a cocktail toward her mother could possibly be little fat adopted Pietr. He was the size of a JV linebacker. He had a square head, his dark blonde hair was shorn close on the sides and back with a thick poofy wave of lightened hair on top, the way the cool kids wore it. All he needed was a handlebar moustache and derby and he could have been the cover photo for Hipster Bartender magazine. Kyle was a slightly above-average height boy with incredible muscular definition. But Pietr was an absolute bear, almost four inches taller than Kyle. He was so big that his backlit shadow cooled Kelly Dawn, Beth, and Jan at the same time when he stepped in to hand Beth a frosted cocktail glass. Ivy looked Pietr up and down -- mostly up -- in disbelief. She wondered where all the chub went. If there was an ounce of fat on him, it had to be mortar between the square cement blocks that made up his thick frame. He was wearing pressed khaki shorts and his quads looked like they were made of giant Legos. He wasn't exactly Ivy's type of guy. Poke was the one who liked muscleheads and lunks. But he was beautiful to look at, in his own square way.

"Good to see you again, Ivy." Pietr was more formal than Kyle, but he also had a casual smile and easy confidence about him.

"H-hey," stammered Ivy.

All of the adult women exchanged a conspiratorial smirk.

"What?" Ivy asked.

"Not you," Kelly Dawn grinned. "We're waiting to see what Pietr says next."

Even the dog sat and looked up at Pietr expectantly, it's lolling pink tongue breaking the line of black gums forming a perfect, dopey dog smile.

Pietr sheepishly facepalmed himself. "Mom, please. You're going to weird-out our guest before she even makes it in the house."

Kelly Dawn took a sip of her wine and smiled an evil mom smile of knowing. She slurred a bit as she said, "Ssssome-body has been talking about Little Miss Ivy for the last two months." The women all giggled. "I just thought sssome-body would have a little more to say on the fateful day that his crush showed up on the front lawn."

"Oh mom, please," groaned Pietr. "You are totally killing my game."

Ivy couldn't hide her confusion. "I don't understand. Where--"

"Oh she's calling me out for being your biggest Facebook stalker," Pietr smiled. "There, Mom. Are you happy? I'm a dork."

Ivy still couldn't make sense of it. "We're... Not... Facebook friends."

Kelly Dawn waved her hand. "I know. He keeps using my profile to look at Beth's posts and all her photos of you."

"Busted," Kyle grimaced. "Mom, that wasn't cool."

"Yes, totally busted," Pietr agreed, dropping a palm toward Ivy, "but in my defense, just look at her. I told you that she's spectacular." Pietr blushed through a broad, self-deprecating smile that the gathering of women could not resist "You can mock me, but you can't argue that I was absolutely right! Ivy is so cute that kittens post pictures of her on Facebook."

The greek chorus of women laughed and nodded. Ivy's head spun with confusion.

"Ladies," Kyle announced, "Humiliation Theater will now take a short intermission, please head on back into the air conditioning and we will blink the lights when dinner is ready! If you haven't gotten everything out of your cars that you need for your trip, please do so now. Pietr and I will begin moving your cars in just a few."

The women dispersed in an cacophony of overlapping hen cluck conversations. Kyle and Pietr smiled until the adults stepped far enough away. Then both their smiles evaporated at the same instant as they turned to Ivy.

"Damn. Sorry about that," Kyle said. "Moms."

"Yeah. Didn't mean to put you on the spot," Pietr said. "Like it's not awkward enough to have your whole summer fucked up by this stupid cruise. That's gotta suck, ammirite?"

Ivy's tension eased. These weren't men. These were boys she understood and who -- it seems -- understood her. The Don Juan charm was just an act for the moms. But the real boys underneath might actually be cool after all.

Kyle's cheekbones flexed with sincerity. "If there's anything we can do to make your time here, suck less, just say it."

"Uhm..." Ivy squirmed. "Bathroom?"

Kyle laughed and picked up a suitcase in each bulging arm. "Of course. Through the door. First hallway on the right. First door on the left."

Ivy nursed a glass of iced tea that somebody had forgotten to sweeten. She stared through the big living room window and watched the boys outside. The adorable dog -- who Ivy had come to learn had been given the bizarre name "Misery" -- fogged the plate glass with her nose. Misery turned to look back at Ivy, as if to ask why anyone with a choice and an opposable thumb would be inside the house when such fine boys were outside it. Ivy was wondering that herself. The boys were a curiosity she could not seem to ignore. Pietr slid butt-first into one of the women's' cars and moved the seat back until he could swing his legs in. Kyle waited behind him in the driver's seat of Pietr's rust-red Ford pickup. It wasn't much of a truck and had obviously seen better days. There was something especially weird about the way the boys moved around each other. They had a strange... Efficiency to the task. They didn't talk much. They both seemed to know exactly what to do.

A mom-friend, Jenny, slid up beside Ivy and watched the boys go through the motions in silence. Jenny lived in Atlanta as well, but Ivy had only met her two or three times before. Jenny had a daughter named Sadie just a few months older than Ivy who was an insufferable brat. Jenny was a buxom redhead and easily the most stunning of all the mom-girlfriends. Her voice was husky as the staging area for an Iditarod race.

"They're adorable, aren't they?" Jenny rasped without looking away from the window.

"Uhm," Ivy said, "I thought Kyle was fifteen?"

"He is."

"But... He's driving."

"Uh huh. He's got a permit, I think."

"Yyyyyeah," said Ivy. "You can't drive by yourself on a permit. You're only supposed to drive with a parent in the car."

Jenny shrugged. "He's fine. He's a capable young man."

The boys drove away. They'd both return in the truck and repeat the process in a few minutes, just as they had done five minutes before. The double-standard of lax rules for boys and strict rules for girls like Ivy burrowed under Ivy's skin.

"What if he gets pulled over by a cop?"

Car and truck disappeared down the side street and Jenny finally turned to look at Ivy. "He's fine. He's capable. Never worry about Kyle or Pietr. Those two know how to handle themselves." Jenny wristed something translucent around in a short glass to chill it against the ice. "They can talk their way out of hell, if the devil gives 'em half a chance."

"Couple of charmers," Ivy said flatly. She didn't know why she said it. As soon as it came out of her mouth she realized she sounded like one of the moms.

"Indeed," Jenny smiled. "And you're going to be left alone in a house with them for two whole weeks. Try not to get snakebit, honey."

Ivy looked at Jenny. There was an edge in Jenny's voice, and when Ivy looked at her she confirmed the suspicion that Jenny was being catty, not nice.

"I can handle myself," Ivy said.

"Mmm." Jenny grunted, dismissive.

"I'm not crushing on them, if that's what you're implying." Ivy became defensive. "I have a boyfriend, youknow."

Jenny cackled. "Yes, honey. I know. We all know about your little boyfriend." She took a drink and smirked again. "Did your little boyfriend really run out the front door naked, scared out of his wits? Was that part true? Oh tell me it's true."

"No, he didn't run out naked. Who told you that crap?"

"How's that little pink ass of yours, honey? I heard Gary did a real number on it."

Ivy's face flushed with anger. "What's it your business?" She said indignantly. "Gary is a creep and an butthole anyway."

Jenny smiled a patronizing smile and Ivy wanted to pick up the potted kalanchoe off the windowsill and break it against Jenny's smirking face. "Actually, sweetie, Gary is a pretty good catch. It's a shame that your mom dumped him. Total shame to let a cocksman like that with a good job get away because a little dimwit tramp couldn't manage her boyfriend a little better." Jenny locked eyes at Ivy over the rim of her tilting glass and slurped her drink loudly. "Seems your momma could use Gary's extra income about now and you could use another lesson from Gary about how to talk to grownups, since the first lesson obviously didn't take."

Ivy saw red. "Yeah. Well you be sure to tell Pervy Gary that the next time you see him."

"Oh honey," Jenny smiled. "I already have, but I certainly will remind him the next time he's signing a check for my Mercedes payment." Jenny winked at Ivy. "I'll tell him, but first I'll have to pop that thick dong of his out of my mouth long enough to form words. What? You didn't know? I can see you didn't know. Yep, I was waiting for your mother to fuck that up and she sure did. Or rather, you fucked it up for her, didn't you Sweetheart?"

Girl and woman stared each other down, Jenny challenging Ivy to launch the next verbal salvo.

Ivy said nothing. Jenny continued. "And now your mom has no man and no man-money. And I have both. Sucks to be her. Also kind of sucks to be you, doesn't it? Gary would have made a fine step-daddy for you. He'd teach you lots of things that a girl should know. But instead he's all alone with my Sadie back in Doraville. She's a year older than you, but she's got a sassy mouth on her, too. I'm sure Daddy Gary will have made a little progress with her by the time I get back."

Jenny swished her back to Ivy. "Toodles." Jenny walked off toward the kitchen.

After a stunned moment, Ivy heard the words explode out of her mouth. "Fuck you!" It was not a whisper. Jenny heard it. The neighbors probably heard it. Misery trod out of the room with her tail down, apparently no fan of conflict.

In confirmation, Jenny's right arm cocked at the elbow and her middle finger poked up in a circling motion, but she didn't turn back and she never broke stride.

Given how small the cab of the truck was, there was still plenty of room on the bench seat for Ivy between the formidable shoulders of the Brothers Kisselhoff. Ivy's knees were elevated because her feet were on the transmission hump with a gear shift between them. The truck's air conditioner either did not work or the brothers were oblivious to the hot friction of the Florida air buffeting through the windows. Her hair was going everywhere and starting to wilt in the humidity. She looked up at the top of her head reflected in the rearview mirror and realized she wasn't impressing anybody with her sweaty brow and windblown curls.

Back at the dock, Ivy had been stoic as she waved good-bye to her mother. Beth O'Brien hanged over the Lido deck rail waving with all the other departing passengers. Beth O'Brien was as already as drunk as Ivy had ever seen her, certainly during daylight hours. Ivy's eyeline involuntarily moved to Jenny who had been waving vigorously and blowing kisses at the brothers. She was drunk too. Jenny caught Ivy looking and made the penis-bulging-in-the-jaw motion with her tongue as her hand pumped near her chin.

Ivy turned and scratched her back bra strap with her middle finger as she walked away. The ship's fog horn blasted and the deep vibration tickled Ivy's butt.

Ivy was still seething in the truck. Seething about Jenny. Seething about her lost summer. Seething about the brutal humidity. Seething about Gary, while allowing herself to wonder if she had really screwed something up for her mother. Ivy considered about how her mother had switched from grocery shopping at Wegmans to Super Walmart after she broke up with Gary. Beth O'Brien was trying to pick up extra hours at work. Maybe Gary's departure was more problematic than Ivy realized.

They were almost back to the house, off the expressway and driving through lessor state roads. The radio had not been turned on yet, and Ivy assumed that it was another non-feature of the rattletrap truck.

Neither of the brothers had said a single word. They had barely talked on the trip south to the Port of Tampa. Not a syllable or a grunt on the return trip north. Pietr slumped and manipulated the steering wheel with his left wrist as he expertly shifted with his right hand. Ivy had plenty of time to look down and marvel at the size of Pietr's big hand resting on the top of the gear knob, especially in relation to how tiny it made her knees look. The sight of Pietr's massive man hand floating ten inches over her crotch triggered a few impure thoughts. But only momentarily. She had a boyfriend waiting for her back home. Even if all Pietr's embarrassing crush confession on the lawn were true -- and Ivy still was not convinced that it was -- Pietr wasn't her type. If she would cheat on her boyfriend -- and she NEVER WOULD -- but if you put a gun to her head and made her kiss one of the brothers, she'd kiss Kyle. If you made her. If she didn't have a choice, but she still, yaknow, had a choice.

Kyle stared out the passenger window, apparently contemplating something serious. His bushy hair danced in the crossbreeze like tongues of brown flame.

Once off the highway, the truck interior suffered less wind noise and Ivy could now hear herself think.

"So," Ivy broke the silence, "where did you two learn how to cook? Did your mom teach you?"

"Did you like dinner?" Kyle smiled politely.

"Kyle, I'm not kidding you when I tell you that was the best shrimp pasta that I've ever had. It was really amazing."

"Thank you," Kyle said. "Pee there drove down to the Bay Market docks at the asscrack of dawn this morning to buy those shrimp right off the shrimp boats. He's the one who cleaned them and deveined them and marinated them in herbs and white wine."

"Really?" Ivy asked. "Like those were real shrimp? With legs and heads and everything?"

The brothers laughed.

"Yes," said Pietr. "Real shrimp with heads and legs. Unlike the fake shrimp they grow in the supermarket that's only tails."

"You know what I meant," Ivy said.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Pietr smiled. "Kyle and I try to eat healthy, but every once in awhile we let the carb monster loose."

"Hey, and just so I know we're cool, that thing with my mom giving you my phone and saying I could only have it when she calls me... That's bullcrap, right? You guys are totally going to give me my phone back when we get home. Totally." Ivy's thumbs were itching to send Poke Instagrams of the brothers.

Ivy looked at Kyle. Kyle looked out the window. She looked at Pietr. Pietr watched the road.

"Right?" asked Ivy. "You guys are cool, right? Kyle? Pietr?"

Kyle softened and patted Ivy's bare knee. The touch of his hand on her skin was warm and thrilling in a strange way. "Let's just all be cool for a while and see how it goes," Kyle said. "If your mom hadn't made us promise, it would be no problem. But she made us say the words so...."

"Oh come on," Ivy rolled her eyes. "What? Are you two Boy Scouts or something? It was just mom bullshit."

"Most definitely mom bullshit," Pietr nodded. "But like Kyle said. She made us give our word and our promise is never bullshit."

Ivy crossed her arms in a huff.

"But perhaps," Pietr continued, "just perhaps we can take the measure of your character for a week or so and make sure that we can trust you enough to think about breaking our promise to Beth."

"Okay," Ivy grumbled. "I guess that's fair enough. I just thought you guys were cool." Measure of your character? Did he really say that? What boy says 'measure of your character?'

"Sorry," Kyle smiled. "We'd love to be cool, but at best we're only tepid."

"What does that mean?"

Kyle sighed. "Pietr, what good is le mot juste when nobody else speaks French?"

Pietr laughed loudly. "Write that one down, Boss. That's a good one."

"I don't get it," Ivy said. "What are you two talking about?"

Kyle switched the subject, "So, Miss Ivy Paige, what did you think of Aunt JenJen?"

Ivy blinked. "Jenny? She's kind of a See You Next Tuesday, isn't she?"

Both boys laughed. Ivy realized it was the first time she'd actually heard them cut loose with a real chest laugh. She liked making them laugh; liked the warmth of being in the stereo crossfire of their roars.

"Yeah, we heard you mixed it up with Aunt JenJen," Kyle smiled.

"Everybody hears everything around here," grumbled Ivy. "Real echo chamber, Tampa is."

"She can rub some people the wrong way," Pietr said, "but her heart is in the right place."

"And where is that, exactly?" asked Ivy. "A Transylvanian grave with a wooden stake through it?"

Pietr nodded, unaffected. "Aunt JenJen is a bit protective of Kyle and I. Maybe even a little jealous that you are our guest for the next couple of weeks."

"What's with the 'aunt' business," asked Ivy. "I know she's not really your aunt."

Kyle explained. "A couple years after our dad died, Aunt JenJen lost her job. Right about that same time we were really close to losing the house we lived in. The one before this one. Mom was having a hard time keeping up with the bills. So Aunt JenJen and Sadie moved in with us for a couple years."

"Oh," Ivy said. "I didn't know that."

Kyle continued. "She finished out her Masters at U of T while she worked her job in Clearwater, and everybody pooled their resources and somehow it all worked out for everybody."

"JenJen worked days and mom worked nights," Pietr continued. "So we spent a lot more of our after school hours with JenJen than we did with our mom. JenJen taught us a lot. A lot about life, and women, and what it takes to be successful in life."

"But mostly about women," Kyle smiled wistfully.

Ivy grunted. "A regular Doctor Phil."

Kyle turned to Ivy. He blinked with sincerity. "We owe her a lot."

"Okay," Ivy shrugged. "I get it. I'm the only one not in the Jenny fan club. But what's with that stupid nickname of hers? 'Candy.' That's dumb."

Pietr smiled. "Well you don't usually give yourself a nickname, so you can't exactly blame her for that."

Kyle grinned his adorable sideways smirk. "All of 'em. All of their nicknames. All those nicknames trace back to them being mean to each other in college. Like Donna for instance. The short one? Squeaky? You know how she got that name, Squeaky? Supposedly she was in her dorm room one afternoon getting fucked by her boyfriend and she was making this squeaky 'Yeep! Yeep!' sound every time the guy went balls deep in her."

Ivy bristled at Kyle's coarse language. But she was on their turf and didn't want to be uncool by snapping Kyle's leash. Besides, Kyle was getting into the story and he was a good storyteller.

"All the other girls were walking by in the hallway outside her dorm room and heard her squeaky sex sound coming through the door, eventually stopping and laughing. And then one of them -- I think it was Tilly -- went down in the lobby and started bringing boys up in the elevator to listen to Donna squeak away. 'Yeep! Yeep! Yeep!' By the time the guy fucking Donna finally busted his nut, there were like 90 people standing in the dorm hallway and they were all squeaking right along with Donna. She didn't even hear it until she stopped taking the D, and then all she could hear was this deafening, cheering chorus of almost 100 people screaming 'Yeep! Yeep! Yeep!' outside her door."

"Oh my God," Ivy covered her mouth. "That's absolutely mortifying."

"So the guy who was fucking her, her thinks he's a badass and he runs and throws open the door like he's going to bust some skulls. He's on a girls' dorm floor, so who is going to actually be able to give him any shit, right? He's still buck naked. She's still laying on the bed with her legs open and her twat dripping. And this guy throws the door open and he is just totally unprepared for the number of men and women standing outside the room. Everybody rushes past him into the room and starts cheering."

"I would fricking die," Ivy said. "I would literally die of embarrassment."

Pietr nodded. "Apparently Donna had a slightly stronger constitution because she is still among us."

"So..." Ivy asked, "Jenny's nickname? Candy?"

Pietr and Kyle shot each other a look.

Kyle scratched his chin. "Er, that one is not as dramatic. 'Candy' is short for "Mancandy.' Because whenever all the girls went out to bars, Aunt JenJen always got whatever guy she wanted."

"Or at least that's the story the way JenJen told it to us," Pietr said. "Who knows what the truth might actually be."

Ivy considered this in silence. Then: "And my mom? Cookie Mons--"

"DON'T ASK!" Pietr and Kyle said it in unison.

Ivy followed the brothers as they tapped the entry code into the electronic front door of the house and marched past Misery to the middle of the large open living room that joined the open kitchen. Kyle stopped exactly between two semi-circles of sectional couches. He startled and raised his palm as if he heard something.

"Pee, did you hear that?" Kyle asked nervously.

"I heard nothing, brother."

"Shhh shhhhh shhhhhhh! Listen!" Kyle insisted, his eyes glazed as he twisted slowly. "Did you hear that?"

Ivy was concerned by Kyle's concern, but she heard nothing either. She listened more intently.

"Ivy," Kyle whispered, staring up at the ceiling, "Do you hear anything?"

Ivy shook her head. "No," she whispered back.

"Mom?!?" Kyle suddenly shouted, startling Ivy. "MOM, IS THAT YOU?"

Kyle cupped his hand over his ear. "Pietr, do you hear mom?"

Pietr solemnly shook his head in the negative. "I do not hear my mother, Kyle."

"MRS. O'BRIEN IS THAT YOU?" Kyle shouted. "Ivy, did you hear your mother?"

Ivy began to catch on to Kyle's schtick. She giggled. "Nope. I did not hear my mother, Kyle."

"Well you know what that means, people," Kyle said in a barely-controlled fake maniacal voice. "It means... It means we're... We're... Alone!"

Ivy laughed harder at Kyle's goofing.

"And do you know what THAT MEANS, Pietr?"

"Oh no." Pietr's shoulders slumped and his chin fell towards his chest. "Not that. Please, no."

Kyle grabbed Pietr's shirt with both hands and shouted up into Pietr's face. "Do. YOU. KNOW. WHAT TIME. IT. IS?"

Pietr shook his head in the negative solemnly. "Don't. Please, no."

"Alexa!" Shouted Kyle. "What time is it?"

From somewhere in the kitchen, Ivy heard the bright electronic response.

*The time is five twenty-six.* answered Alexa.

"NO ALEXA, that's WRONG!" shouted Kyle. "Alexa..."

"For the love of God," muttered Pietr.

"Alexa!" repeated Kyle. "It's DANCE PARTY TIME!"

*Okay,* answered Alexa. *Playing Kyle's Dance Party Mix.*

Sonos speakers built into the living room ceiling came to life with a fast thumping baseline, followed by the grooving chop of a funk guitar. Kyle's shoulders dipped and rolled. He pointed an accusatory finger at Pietr, still slumped in defeat. "You cannot deny the dance party! I will not abide a dance party denier in my house, Pietr Dimitri Kisselhoff!"

The lyrics kicked in. Music surrounded them like a whip of sonic color lacing between them and suddenly closing around their chests and jerking them all like puppets. Kyle danced. He was an excellent dancer. He had moves. Pietr sighed. The corner of his mouth cracked a little and he began to dance as well. Robotic, but not terrible. Ivy needed no prompting. She loved to dance, and rarely got Poke up on her feet long enough to bust a move. She smiled ear to ear and grooved a symbology of steps around Kyle's fluidity, filling the gaps in his movements with her rhythmic karate; pushing into his balance with her presence, and then giving way to Kyle's smooth power while keeping perfect magnetic distance between them.

Poor Pietr. Ivy danced over to his big man undulations and danced around him like a spinning ornament of golden hair and hula hips. Pietr loosened and Ivy realized he had been holding back a little. He had more moves than he let on.

Something popped inside Ivy's chest. An emotion. A tiny carbonated bubble of something familiar, yet distant. Something from her past. She recognized it, but it was an elusive echo. Oh, yes. That's right. She remembered. Joy. She was actually having fun for the first time in... How long?

"Who is this?" Ivy shouted over the music. "It sounds like Spastic Castles."

"It is Spastic Castles." Kyle shouted back.

"It can't be Spastic Castles." Ivy never stopped dancing. "I've got both their albums. I've never heard this."

Kyle did a Timberlake back toe spin, executed flawlessly. "It's an unreleased song that was cut from the release of the debut at the last minute."

"Oh," Ivy smiled. "I've never heard this song, before. It's awesome."

"The best." Kyle nodded.

Ivy danced and an asynchronous thought shimmied its way down from her brain to her mouth. "So how did you get this song? If it hasn't been released?"

"Pee, how is it that we have a song that doesn't really exist?" Kyle shouted over a tension-building wall of layered girl harmonies blaring from the ceiling.

"All questions are valid!" Pietr shouted back. "Not all answers enlighten!"

Kyle nodded. To Ivy: "All questions are valid. Not all answers enlighten."

"I don't get it," Ivy shouted back.

"You will," Kyle said. He extended an elevated hand toward Ivy. She realized he wanted to connect. She'd never danced like that with any boy. The only time she'd ever held a man while dancing was the time she had gone with her mother and Gary to a wedding reception, and Gary danced with her to some rockabilly song from the 80s. Gary had twirled her. It was crazy how she had never been twirled before, but all she had to do was let Gary lead and she twirled almost exactly the way she was supposed to. It was her best memory of Gary; perhaps her only good memory of Gary besides the time he bought the expensive Vans for her after her mother told her to forget it.

Ivy's hand slipped into Kyle's and that is when the real dance magic began. He bridged his wrist up and she rolled under and into his gimbaling chest. She immediately matched his sine wave and pressed her flank into him, thigh-to-shoulder. He pivoted away from her in a counter-step, and snapped her in the opposite direction like a towel. Then back. Kyle was forceful, but careful. Moving Ivy at will, he never torqued her elbow or asked too much of her slight shoulder. He knew exactly how to move a woman around a dance floor. Or a living room.

Then Kyle's hands locked around each of Ivy's hips and she was floating. Maybe flying. He had grabbed her from behind, so all she could see was the room dropping beneath her and then spinning. Dancing Pietr swished by below her. Then again. And again. Kyle kept her elevated, but stopped spinning her abruptly. Once stationary, the room still swirled, but this time in a confused hypnotic spiral.

Ivy squealed with delight. "Oh gawd I'm going to hurl!"

"No you're not," Kyle said. "No hurling allowed at my dance party." He tossed Ivy in the air with a compact push motion, spun her a half turn, and caught her before she dropped. Now Ivy was looking down at Kyle's orthodontic smile. She marveled at how he had complete control of her, but he didn't seem to be straining. He made the long lift look effortless and as fun for him as it was for her. His grip on her waist was firm, but not uncomfortable. The sensation of being in Kyle's control was heady. Ivy didn't want it to end.

"Can you backflip?" Kyle asked.

"Here?" Ivy laughed. "Inside?"

"All girls can backflip," Kyle said. "Just tell me you know how."

Ivy nodded.

Kyle kept Ivy aloft in his dance press and danced over to the sectional couch closest to the kitchen. He lowered her down so she was standing in the middle of the cushions and repositioned one hand into the small of her back and the other just under her breasts.

"Ready?" Kyle asked. The music kicked over to Ariana Grande and Stevie Wonder singing "Faith," from the Sing! soundtrack. Kyle didn't wait for Ivy to acknowledge. He lifted her slightly and let her drop into a bounce, his hands never completely leaving their control of her. Ivy instinctively jumped, arched back, and lifted her knees for the flip. The pressure of Kyle's hands knew exactly where her gravity was, and where it was going next. She landed exactly where she left. The perfect backflip was half hers and half Kyle's perfect spin.

"Did you do gymnastics," Ivy asked. "That was per--"

"Shut up and flip," Kyle said. He lifted her again, bounced her again, and Ivy backflipped perfectly again, sticking her feet down in the exact same spot.

"Don't stop dancing," Kyle ordered. "This is my dance party and everyone must dance. Dance and nod when you want to flip."

Ivy smiled and shimmied her shoulders. She liked being up high, the center of attention. Both boys were watching her dance. Her chin dipped, she hopped, bent her knees, and then she felt the soft pressures of Kyle's mitts and the room was rolling under her once more. Her hips cocked. Upon landing she bounced a reverse to face the other wall and nodded. This time she trusted Kyle's spotting skills and straightened her legs into a long, slow cheerleader backward jackknife. She always wondered what it was like to be a flyer, the girl the male cheerleaders threw high into the air.

Kyle's assist and reckless disregard for the furniture didn't exactly add up to a Double-full Basket stunt under Friday Night Lights. But it was fun as hell.

Kyle stepped back from the couch and held his hands out like he was going to catch a basketball. "You ready, girl? Time of your life, okay? You ready for this? Do you trust me?"

Ivy trusted Kyle and his easy strength. She trusted him completely. She wasn't sure she trusted herself.

"I can't jump that far."

"Sure you can. I'll catch you."

"I know you'll catch me. I just can't jump that far. I need a running start."

"Just bounce it out on the cushions and jump when you're ready."

"I'll break the couch."

"GIRL, YOU ARE SHITTING ON MY DANCE PARTY? I WILL NOT ABIDE A DANCE PARTY DENIER OR A DANCE PARTY SHITTER!"

"Okay, okay!" Ivy laughed. She hopped small, and then -- trusting the integrity of Ethan Allen -- she bounced heavier into the couch and higher on the resulting bounce. Back down into the couch, and she launched toward Kyle. He made it seem so easy, catching her hips and pressing her up over his head. Ivy did her best Jennifer Grey, arms out and toes pointed. Somebody "squee"ed and Ivy realized it had been her.

"Kyle!" Pietr shouted. "I'm open!" Pietr feigned like a football receiver looking for a catch.

Kyle lowered Ivy until her face was against his face. He looked serious. His eyes went thin. His thick lips puckered.

Ivy felt her lips tingle. They ached so badly, wanting to kiss back. But that was wrong. "I have a boyfrie--- AIIIGH!"

Ivy was launched six feet across the living room. Pietr's catch was not as skillfully soft as Kyle's manipulations had been. But he caught her around the waist easily, never allowing her feet near the ground. Ivy felt her guts slosh against her spine with the arrested momentum. Then Pietr was tossing her from hand-to-hand like a chef tossing pizza dough.

"Okay," Ivy grunted. "That's enough. Put me down. Pietr! Put me dow-- Ooof!"

There was a momentary lift of awkward weightlessness, and then she was back in Kyle's grip around her middle, closer to her boobs than before.

"Okay boys, playtime's over," Ivy said. Fun was fun, but this was starting to feel... unsafe. "Woooofuh!"

Pietr's second catch was better than his first, but she landed with her groin in one of Pietr's big hands and her right boob in his other. "Hey, watch it! Let me-- Unnnnfff!"

Back to Kyle.

Fun = Over.

Pissed = Here to stay. With luggage.

"Goddarnit, put me down! Now!" Ivy shrieked. There was no giggle in her voice. She meant business.

Kyle did not put her down. Instead he tossed her and caught her in the same waist grip that he'd started with, face-to-face.

"Knock it off!" screamed Ivy. Spittle sprayed from her lips. "I mean it! You're hurting me!"

Kyle's face was blank and somehow still pleasant. "You are not hurt."

"Yes I am! Put me down!" Ivy's vision filtered red.

"You are not hurt," Kyle repeated calmly. "You are un-com-fort-a-ble. Discomfort is not pain. Now you are not really hurt or in pain, are you Ivy?"

Ivy could not wrap her head around a boy talking to her like a dad. But that's exactly what he was doing. And she didn't exactly have the ability to make Kyle do anything at the moment.

"Please? Please put me down? Goddarnit, please?"

Kyle nodded, but did not move. "Please answer the question I asked you. Are you really in pain?"

Ivy considered this. She shook her head in the negative.

"Good." Kyle still was showing no fatigue at holding her aloft. "Now are you uncomfortable?"

"Yes," Ivy said flatly. "You're scaring me and I don't like it."

Kyle smiled. "Good. I appreciate your honesty. Two things. First, I want you to understand-- no, I want you to learn that your feeling of discomfort means you are growing. You're adapting to something new and different. I'm guessing you're not used to hanging out with guys much, are you, Ivy?"

Ivy shook her head in the negative.

"Super. Well that's going to change. We're going to peel back a lot of the bullshit and you're going to get a rare opportunity to see how guys really think and guys really act. And then you can go back to Georgia and you can do-or-not-do anything you want with that. Okay, Ivy?" Kyle was still as cool as the other side of the pillow. Her anger and screaming hadn't moved him an inch.

"What's the other thing?" Ivy muttered.

Kyle smiled and gently lowered Ivy's shoes to the floor. "You gotta learn to trust us, okay? We're going to put a lot of trust in you. You're going to see and experience a lot of things that you might not be used to. Or be comfortable with at first. But we're going to trust you to be cool with us, and you've got to trust us to be cool with you. Nobody is going to hurt you here. Ever. Not me. Not Pee. No-body. Are you cool?"

Kyle's voice was hypnotic. His grip on her waist was formidable. Ivy had enough presence of mind to realize maybe she overreacted to the situation. She exhaled. "Yeah. I'm cool. Sorry. I guess maybe I flipped out there for a sec."

"Do you trust us?" Kyle was looking right into Ivy's soul. His voice was butter and it made Ivy's lips itch to kiss him again. "Do you trust me?"

Ivy nodded. "I trust you."

"Do you trust Pietr Demitri?"

Ivy wasn't so sure about Pietr, but she nodded anyway. "Sure."

Kyle's hands came away from Ivy's waist and she suddenly felt like gravity was twice as heavy. Like the feeling she got after she took off a pair of ice skates.

"Groovy," Kyle said. "Alexa! End!"

The dance party was over. Ivy felt the boys looking at her, not in a fun way, and it made her feel even more embarrassed that she freaked out and ruined the fun. She thought she might cry. Misery walked over and leaned against Ivy's leg. The adorable dog looked up at Ivy and smiled her dopey dog smile. She felt a bit better. She ruffled Misery's scruff and the dog's eyes went thin with pleasure. "Hey Miz," Ivy said. "Uh Kyle, who named the dog? Did you get her from somebody else?"

"I named the dog," Pietr said. "Why?"

"Misery?" Ivy asked. "That's a weird name. Why would you name a dog Misery?"

Pietr shrugged. "Because she loves company."

Ivy slapped her own forehead. "Oh Jesus."

"Did we ever show you your room?" Pietr asked. "Kay, did you show Ivy to the guest room?"

Kyle slapped his forehead. "I thought you did. No? Shit. We're terrible hosts. C'mon, Ivy."

Kyle set Ivy's suitcase down and Pietr stepped next to the sofa sleeper in the guest room, placing his hand on his hips dramatically.

"Ivy," Pietr began, "I want to introduce you to a nemesis of ours." Pietr threw the cushions off the couch and grasped the handle of the fold out bed. "Behold!" Pietr said, "The infamous and unforgiving... Desdemona!"

With a flex of Pietr's bicep, the folded frame creaked upward like a foundering ship, before crashing downward-and-outward to reveal the thinnest, sorriest, and rattiest sofa mattress Ivy had ever seen.

"Illegal by fiat in twenty-seven states," Pietr scowled, "Specifically named as a prohibited instrument of torture by the Geneva Convention, the Cape Town Convention, and the Greater Upper New York State Comic Book Convention. Thrice convicted in absentia of war crimes by the Rwandan Tribunal on the Governance of Agricultural and Animal Resources....Desdemona here is personally responsible for reducing visitor traffic to our home to no more than two nights at a stretch and also killing outright three cousins we didn't much like anyway."

Ivy blinked. "It'll be fine, I'm sure."

"Pee and I can't stand it," Kyle said. "Not sure why mom hasn't replaced the awful thing, other than money, I guess. Sleeper sofas are pricey."

"It's fine." Ivy assured.

"You say that now," Pietr said. "By the time we hear your cries of tortured anguish in the night, it may be too late to save you."

"We frickin' hate this sleeper." Kyle shook his head in disgust. "Every once in awhile we get bumped out of our beds into Desdemona when one of mom's friends comes to visit. I drew the short straw when Peg arrived early yesterday. Goddammit."

"If it gets too bad, I can just sleep on one of the couches," Ivy said.

Both boys shook their heads no fervently. "Not allowed," they said in unison.

"What do you mean?"

"Mom forbade it," Pietr said.

"If you don't want to sleep on Desdemona, then mom's rules say one of us has to offer you our bed," Kyle said. "Which means--"

Pietr continued, "One of us has to sleep on Desdemona. Because --"

Kyle finished, "We aren't allowed to sleep on the couch."

"Oh." Ivy turned this over in her head. It made sense, but there was logic buried somewhere in the back-and-forth that didn't add up. "I don't weigh as much as you two," Ivy said. "It won't be as bad for me."

Kyle raised his eyebrows. "Oh, I don't know about that. Ivy felt pretty hefty to me when we were tossing her around, Pee. What did you think?"

"I'm not saying she's fat." Pietr shrugged.

"No?" countered Kyle.

"I'm just saying that her mass is formidable for her size and age."

Kyle nodded. "Yeah. What are you Ive? What do you run? 'Bout a buck-twenty-three? 124?"

Ivy gasped. "RUDE!"

Pietr: "No brother. 127."

"I do not weigh a hundred and twenty-seven pounds, you buttholes!" Ivy shouted.

Pietr was unflappable. "Yes, I am rather skilled at knowing how much is on my bar when I lift. I'm putting you right at exactly 127."

"You think that high? Really?" Kyle said with eyebrows of fake concern.

"Oh frick off you two!" Ivy snorted. "I don't weigh 127 pounds! You two are so rude!"

Kyle rubbed his chin slowly. "She did have three helpings of shrimp pasta."

The blood rushed to Ivy's face. She picked a throw pillow up off the floor and walloped Kyle across the side of his head. Of course he did not move. He didn't even alter his expression.

"I don't weigh that much!"

"How much do you think you weigh?" Pietr asked.

"I don't know," Ivy growled. "One ten. Maybe one hundred and nine."

Both boys burst out with hearty laughter. This pissed Ivy off to no end and she picked a larger throw pillow up and took turns clobbering Pietr and Kyle.

"We do own a scale, you know," mused Kyle after Ivy exhausted herself.

"Indeed we do, Boss. Indeed we do," nodded Pietr.

"Bring it!" Ivy growled. "I will show you and then you can both take turns kissing my ass!"

Kyle stroked his chin again. "I dunno, Ivy. Pietr there is really good at guessing weight. I've seen him do it before and he's pretty spot on. I'd be a fool to bet against him."

Ivy knew perfectly well that the boys were "busting balls." But she also knew she was right. Or at least she was pretty sure she was right.

Kyle cocked one caterpillar eyebrow. "Hmmmm. Wager, perchance?"

"I'll bet you anything you want."

"Anything?" There was something pervy and Gary-esque in Kyle's voice that forced Ivy to stop and rethink.

"Er... Anything within reason."

"Hmmmm," Kyle pondered, "within reason. Within reason. Lemmethink." He snapped his fingers. "I've got it!"

"What do you think, Boss?" Pietr asked.

"If Ivy weighs in within five pounds -- either direction -- that means anywhere between one hundred four to one hundred fourteen pounds -- I say we give her her phone back right away. Right now."

"Done!" Ivy said. "Ring the bell. Get the scale!"

"But..." Kyle continued, "if she does not 'make weight,' then there will be no more talk of returning her phone for at least a week. Not a word. Not a question. Not a single passive-aggressive aside."

"Why are we still standing here?" Ivy snaked her head. "I'm all up in dat!"

"Alexa!" shouted Kyle "Play the Imperial March from Star Wars!"

*Playing the Imperial March. By John Williams.*

The ominous notes of Darth Vader's signature song filled the house. Kyle smiled and sweeped his hand toward the hallway in a grand gesture.

"You guys are so going to kiss my butt." Ivy bit her bottom lip in defiance.

"No golldarn way!" shrieked Ivy. "This is rigged. This scale is rigged! I don't weigh that much!"

"We didn't rig the scale," Kyle said.

"Bullcrap!" Spat Ivy. "You two messed with the dial."

"The scale doesn't have a dial," Pietr said. "It's digital. There are no adjustments."

"Oh," said Ivy. "Really? Ours at home has a dial."

Kyle smiled an insufferable smile. "Apparently."

"Oh shut up," Ivy growled.

"One twenty seven point seven." Pietr was preening.

"It's my clothes. And the sweat. I'm wearing clothes and I'm sweating. "That's ten pounds at least."

Kyle looked at Pietr. "Brother?"

Pietr shrugged his shoulders and looked Ivy in the eyes. "Well, take off your clothes then."

"Oh you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Ivy glared.

"Speaking for myself," Pietr said, "Chah! I'd like that a lot."

"Perv." Ivy glared.

"Oink." Pietr smiled.

"Frick you," Ivy marched off. "I'm going to change into my bikini and we're going to reweigh."

Kyle waggled his fingertips into a wave. "We'll wait right here, honey."

Ivy stood in front of the scale once more. She felt all four boy eyes burning a hole in the fabric of her skimpy American flag bikini. Kyle was staring at her boobs and Pietr's head was cocked in a way that made it undeniable that he was checking out her butt.

"Getting an eyeful, boys?" Ivy asked defiantly.

"Oh yeah," Kyle smiled. "Pee was right. You are adorable. You got a tight, bangin' little frame there, gurlfriend."

"Maybe if you two weren't such buttholes, you'd have a real girlfriend of your own to eye-rape."

Kyle smiled and did not react. He pointed at the scale. "Less yammering. More weighing."

Ivy lifted her left foot and pointed a toe at the shiny glass center of the scale. "Wait. I have to pee first."

"Now!" Kyle growled. "Let's go."

"R-really," Ivy stammered. "I need to use the bathroom first."

Pietr and Kyle rolled their eyes and walked away. "Two weeks," Kyle said over his shoulder. "Not a word about your phone. I mean it."

"Wait, no!" Ivy said. "I'm doing it. I'm getting on the scale."

The boys never looked back.

"Wait!" Ivy shouted. "Don't be a jerk. I'm doing it."

The boys were already gone.

Ivy slumped. With nobody left to judge her, she stepped up on the scale and waited for the LED crystal numbers to stop blurring. 121.

"Christalmighty!" Ivy screamed. She looked at herself in the big bathroom mirror behind the double vanity. They were right. She was a pig. Her hips were way too big. Her face was way too puffy. She was a cow.

Ivy lay on the couch with the television remote in the hand of her outstretched arm. Misery was nestled behind her legs and had her sleepy head propped on Ivy's butt. The dog, indeed, loved Ivy's company. Probably nice to have another girl in the house, especially when both her boys were certified jerks.

She was six episodes into the second season of a Frank Lee Speaking! Netflix binge. The sun was getting low outside. She had lost track of the boys until Misery jumped off the couch and plodded toward the front door. A moment later it opened. Ivy lifted up on her elbow to see both boys walk through the foyer, sweating profusely. They were in athletic gear and Ivy realized they'd been running or exercising together.

"We gonna eat soon?" Ivy asked.

Kyle walked up and swatted Ivy's butt playfully over the back of the couch. "Get up. Get some clothes on."

Ivy could smell him. He smelled like the wolfskin throw on Poke's bed. "Where are we going?"

"Pee and I are grabbing a shower and we're taking you to the beach."

"Finally!" Ivy said. "Isn't it kind of late? Should I put my bikini back on?"

"No bikini," Pietr said, standing in the open kitchen and slurping down cold water from a jug. "That would just give the mosquitos more places to eat you up."

"We're going to watch the sunset," Kyle said. "Pee thought you'd like that. And we haven't done it in a while either. It's a tourist thing, but we need to get back in touch with our touristy romantic side anyway."

"Oh. Okay. That sounds cool."

"Answer the door, willya? We've got a friend coming by in a few minutes and we'll probably still be cleaning up." Kyle asked.

"Sure," Ivy said.

Kyle peeled off his sweaty shirt and Ivy forgot to breathe. His ripped chest glistened salaciously. He may be a butthole of a boy, but he was a damned cute one. Ivy would have given five years of her life for the ability to instagram that moment and tag Poke.

CHAPTER SIX: ZOOEY

Ivy finished pulling on a peasant blouse that seemed light enough for the summer heat, but warm enough in case there was a breeze coming off the Gulf. Outside the door of the guest room she heard Misery woof. Then woof again. Ivy opened the door. Misery was sitting, looking up at her expectantly.

"What girl? You want in here?"

Misery turned and walked toward the foyer. She paused and looked over her haunch at Ivy.

"Am I supposed to follow you?" Ivy stepped into a pair of Report Ladon grey suede sandals that she adored because they made her feet look like a Disney Princess. She was as put together as she was going to be for the outing. Her curly blonde signature ringlets were in full mutiny, languid and loose in the humidity. There was nothing a curling iron and three jars of Curl Stretch Pudding were going to do for her. She left the room and Misery began leading her toward the front door. The dog sat expectantly, looking at the front door and wagging her tail.

"What?" Ivy asked. "You need to potty or something?"

A sudden hollow rap on the glass storm door made Ivy jump. "Oh. Okay," Ivy said. "Thanks for the warning, Miz. Next time I'll understand."

Ivy opened the door, expecting to see a boy. Instead it was a beautiful girl, older than the boys. Late teens. The girl smiled and waved at Ivy through the ornamental glass of the storm door. The girl was gorgeous. Model gorgeous. She was dressed fashionably and had the longest neck Ivy had ever seen on a girl. She needed a long neck to keep from tripping over the long beautiful brunette hair spilling over her shoulders.

Ivy pushed the latch of the storm door. It didn't open. She pushed again. Nothing. She looked for a lock switch to unlock the handle, but the handle was strange. Not like the storm doors in Georgia.

The girl outside muttered something.

"What?" Ivy shouted.

"Mmmm Alexa to mmopen the front doormm!" The girl pantomimed an exaggerated index finger toward the door latch.

"Huhn?" Ivy said. "I don't-- Oh! Hang on. Alexa! Unlock the front door!"

*Unlocking the front door. Hang on.*

The door latch made a strange mechanical sound and the girl outside opened the storm door and let herself in.

"Boys and their toys, right?" The girl smiled at Ivy. "You must be Ivy O'Brien! Howareya?"

There was something about the girl and her friendly offensive that made Ivy like her immediately.

"Good. Sorry about the door. Also I was expecting a guy."

"Oh is Jarvis coming over too?"

Ivy shook her head. "No. Or I don't think so. I just meant Kyle told me somebody was coming over and I assumed it was a guy. I don't know why. He said it was a friend. So..."

"I am most definitely a friend," she said. "Zooey. I bet they didn't even tell you my name, did they?"

Ivy shook her head no.

"Figures. Are they in the shower?"

"Sounds like they're out and almost ready."

Zooey smiled and winked as she walked through the foyer and toward the open kitchen/living room area. "Isn't that so unfair? How boys can go from being a complete mess to being put together and just delicious so fast?"

Zooey opened the fridge and helped herself to a can of flavored club soda. Her tiny little fingers rocking the tab were elegant and the simple red polish on her nails was unchipped and looked fresh. Ivy found herself being swept hard into a serious girlcrush. Zooey's smart ruffle shorts and ribbed surplice top looked like it came out of the window at Forever 21, but it looked way better on Zooey than it did on the mannequin. Zooey had a busty shape that would have been obscene if her boobs were a millimeter larger. The cuts in the surplice top hit her sexy parts in a perfectly classy way. And Zooey had perfect knees. No woman had perfect knees, but somehow Zooey had perfect knees.

"Can I ask a question?" Ivy started. "How old are you?"

"Seventeen. You're fourteen?"

"Almost."

"Thirteen? Really? You look older."

"Thank you."

That's when the realization that Zooey was a girlfriend of one of the boys finally made it through Ivy's skull. Well of course the brothers had girlfriends. They were both gorgeous boys. And of course they didn't just have girlfriends. They had older girlfriends who looked like runway models. Ivy wanted to ask which brother was Zooey's boyfriend.

Kyle trumbled down the stairs with smooth precision. "Hey gorgeous!" he smiled at Zooey before walking toward her and giving her a kiss.

Well that solves that mystery, Ivy thought. Her heart broke a little, but really... Were there two more perfect people to couple up? They'd make beautiful kids one day.

"Where's Waldo?" Zooey asked Kyle.

"Right here." Pietr made his entrance down the stairs. He looked great too; Pressed white cargo shorts over clean coral vans with a collared short sleeve shirt that matched the hue of the shoes perfectly. The color contrast made Pietr seem more tanned than he was.

"Are we just going to the beach?" Ivy asked. Suddenly she felt underdressed.

"We'll grab something to eat," Pietr said as he crossed past Ivy to kiss Zooey. Ivy could smell his cologne. Also perfect. Ivy watched the kiss. Almost identical to Kyle's kiss. What was up with that? They must all be really good friends.

Zooey pushed Pietr aside and pointed at Ivy's sandals. "Oh my gawd, those are adorable! Are those Jessica Simpson?"

"Report Ladon"

"Yeet!" Zooey gushed. "Kyle, look at those. I want you to buy me a pair of those for my birthday."

Ivy's brain reset once more. Okay, Zooey is Kyle's girlfriend after all.

Kyle grabbed the truck keys from the bowl on the counter and tossed them to Pietr who snatched them out of the air with a casual downward flip of his big paw. "Ask Pee," Kyle said. "I'm tapped from your graduation present."

"Oh you always have money, you big cheapskate." Zooey slapped ineffectively against Kyle's arm. She turned and batted her eyes at Pietr. "Pietr, sweetie?"

Pietr turned to Ivy. "How much do those kicks run?"

"About forty bucks."

"Done!" Pietr said. "Write down the name and where I can buy them."

"Wait!" Kyle shouted. "I'll go forty. I thought those were super expensive shoes."

"Not really," said Ivy.

"Those aren't the ones with the red bottoms?" Kyle asked.

Ivy and Zooey shared a laugh.

"No, knucklehead," Zooey said. "You're thinking of Christian Louboutins."

"Oh. They all sound alike. I thought you were crushing me for $500 sandals," Kyle said.

Ivy turned and kicked her sandal bottoms up for Kyle to show that the bottoms were beige. "I wouldn't wear Louboutins to the beach, Kyle. I'm not a Kardashian."

Pietr waved them to walk toward the door.

"You buy me a pair of Louboutins," Zooey said to Kyle, "and I'll suck your cock until the insides of your ears touch." She winked at Ivy.

Ivy blushed, but she loved Zooey's free-spirited casualness.

Pietr drove the truck. Ivy straddled the gear shift. Zooey sat on Kyle's lap in the shotgun seat, her arm around Kyle's neck. Ivy still couldn't tell for sure whose girlfriend Zooey was, but Ivy was pretty sure it was Kyle. Zooey was a motormouth, filling the truck interior with anecdotes about her little brother and her parents. Zooey's dad was the minister of a Baptist church. Ivy found Zooey's rebellious trashy mouth more amusing by the minute.

"So then Mrs. Kowalsky was looking at my blouse like it was on fire," Zooey said. "And I look down and realize my buttons are all one hole off. I about died."

"CRANE!" Kyle shouted, pointing through the windshield.

Pietr locked up the brakes and pushed his hand out to stop Ivy from sliding into the dashboard. Kyle's shout and Pietr's abrupt braking spiked Ivy's blood pressure. When the truck stopped squealing and Ivy rocked her boob back out of Pietr's hand, she looked out to see three enormous gray and red birds aimlessly weaving across the road.

"Fuck!" Zooey pressed a hand against her her heart.

"That was close," said Kyle.

"Stupid birds!" Pietr said.

"Oh my God," Ivy said. "They are beautiful! What are they?"

"Cuban Sandhill Cranes," Kyle grumbled. "They're everywhere around here and they have the traffic sense of a drunken chinaman."

Zooey slapped at Kyle's chest. "Don't be racist."

Ivy leaned up to get a better view of the cranes over the front hood of the truck. "I've never seen birds like those before. Are they common?"

"Technically they are on the endangered species list," Pietr said. "So if you hit one you can get in big trouble. But they're everywhere in our neighborhood. We've really got to keep an eye out when driving."

"Deputy Francisco," Kyle pointed. A sheriff's patrol car was parked down the road. "He's watching the birds."

"Whew," Zooey said. "You dodged a bullet, big guy."

"Wow, they are just gorgeous," Ivy marvelled. "Such amazing colored plumage."

The cranes still had not finished their slow random amble past the front of the truck. A car coming in the opposite direction was slowing to a stop as well.

"You think?" asked Zooey. "I think big, leggy cranes and herons are kind of creepy. The way they walk. But yaknow, I think all birds are creepy. My last boyfriend had a Hyacinth Macaw that he let fly around the house. I begged him to put it in its cage while I was there, but he just let it fly around and poop on the furniture. I couldn't even get him to cage the thing while we were fucking. Totally creeped me out. It would perch on the back of his desk chair and just stare at my toes like he was going to swoop down and bite them. I hated that bird."

"Oh my god, no. I think they are gorgeous," Ivy said. "You think they'd let me get close enough to them to pet one?"

"No," Kyle said. "They look like they don't give a shit, but they fly off whenever you get within a couple steps."

"Auwww." Ivy pouted. "That would be so cool. I'd love to hold one."

"They aren't impossible to pet," Zooey said. "I've seen cranes come right up to people and get petted."

"You are full of nine kinds of shit," Kyle said. "I've never seen that."

"Have you ever seen a narwhal?" Zooey shot back.

Kyle rolled his eyes. "No."

"So narwhal's don't exist?"

Kyle shook his head. "No. Not buying it. Cranes never let you touch them."

"Sure they do," Zooey said. "It's supposed to change your luck."

"That's a leprechaun," Pietr said, "not a crane."

"I didn't say 'good luck.' I said it changes your luck," Zooey insisted. "Taylor Hall. You remember her? That cheerleader I used to hang with?"

"The one whose little sister got shot in that Chicken store hold up?" Pietr asked. "Yeah. She was hot."

"She petted a crane the day before the Super Chicken massacre. I was there. I saw it."

"Okay," Kyle rolled his eyes. "Correlation is causation, I guess."

"Yeah, you cynical shit," Zooey said through squinty eyes. "What about Dell Ferar, huh?"

"Don't even," Pietr waved Zooey off with dismissive hand.

"Yep. Two days before he was out on the track at gym class, waiting for Coach Mellis to drag the lacrosse gear out. And a crane walked right up and bumped him in the stomach, like 'hey, pet me. Change your luck.' So Dell reaches down and pets it like a fucking dog. I was there. I saw it."

"Oh no," Ivy said. "What happened?"

"His dad won Pick Six," Pietr groaned. "That guy was a walking tragedy magnet. Lived in a trailer. Mom needed a heart transplant. A month later his mom had a new heart and Dell had a new Hennessey Exorcist Camaro."

"I liked him better when he was a sadsack douche," Kyle muttered. "He's pretty insufferable as a rich douche."

With the last of the cranes wobbling down the side berm of the road toward a retention pond, Pietr put the truck back in gear.

The gulf water lapped at Ivy's feet; warmer than she expected. Almost as warm as bathwater. Her sandals straps hung from her index finger. The water smelled fresh and the breeze blew away the chemical smell of the mosquito repellant that Pietr had sprayed Ivy and Zooey with before they left the truck for the walk to the beach. The sun was sliding down into the wet horizon and the atmosphere above it was an amazing aurora of pastel pinks and purples. It was beautiful.

Zooey stayed on the beach, leaning back against Pietr's big frame; his arms cradling her tenderly.

Ivy envied Zooey even more in that moment. Beach at sunset was -- indeed -- romantic as hell. As if reading Ivy's mind, Kyle kicked off his Sperry's and waded in next to Ivy in the surf. He placed a hand on top of her shoulder and looked out into the horizon.

"Pee was right," Kyle said wistfully. "We get so used to the natural beauty of this place and so inured to this amazing megacosm of wonder that we come to take it for granted."

The sun dropped fast, but the colors in the sky shifted into something more maudlin and dramatic.

"It's beautiful," Ivy said.

Kyle nodded. "Magnificent."

And then the sun was gone. Kyle's gentle hand dropped to the small of Ivy's back and guided her toward the sand. Pietr and Zooey were kissing like lovers, Zooey's delicate body swallowed in Pietr's big arms.

Zooey broke her liplock long enough to turn to Ivy. "You're not going to kiss Kyle in the glow of the sunset? On a beach?"

Ivy was stunned at Zooey's brashness. "I-- I--" Ivy stammered, "I have a boyfriend."

Zooey nodded. "I understand, Still," she said. "One day you'll regret it. Kyle's an excellent kisser."

Ivy kind of already regretted it. Kind of already regretting missing out on the romantic moment and kind of already regretted saying the "I have a boyfriend" mantra one more time.

"Okay boys," Zooey broke away from Pietr. "Let's grab some chow. I absolutely have to be home by ten tonight, like I told you. My mom is on the warpath and I can't be a minute late."

Ivy looked at her watch. It was only 7:02. They had plenty of time.

You couldn't tell there was a surplus of Zooey time from watching the boys. Kyle drove (and drove aggressively fast) to a pretty unimpressive Mexican restaurant near the beach. Kyle and Pietr both ordered steak fajitas with no tortillas, which seemed crazy to Ivy. What was the point? Zooey ordered Spinach enchiladas and Ivy ordered a burrito. Kyle unordered Ivy's burrito and insisted to the waiter to bring her chicken fajitas with only one tortilla. Ivy fumed.

"Don't be like that," Kyle said softly. "You need to shed a couple ell bees. Pee and I are going to send a little less of you back home to Georgia."

Ivy's cheeks raged with embarrassment. She might have cried if Zooey had not launched into a story about a letter her little brother wrote home from church camp. It pulled Ivy's attention away from her injured pride and before she knew it, Ivy had smiled. And then chuckled. And then the part of the story where the little brother called the lawyer made Kyle laugh so hard that he snorted, which made all four of them laugh even harder.

And dammit if the chicken fajita meat wasn't kind of a meal unto itself. It wasn't so bad. Nobody dwelled on her embarrassment. It didn't kill her to eat a little healthier.

Kyle paid the check with a wad of $10 bills and the group piled into the truck and motored home. Kyle drove while Zooey sat on Pietr's lap and kissed him with loud slurpy lip smacks. Ivy tried to ignore the makesesh at her shoulder, but when there were no oncoming headlights and the inside of the windshield caught enough of the dashboard lights to mirror the inside of the car, Ivy caught herself taking notes on how a girl should comport herself when chewing lips. Zooey was moviestar beautiful and Ivy wanted to be her... Maybe even being her while kissing a mature boy like Pietr. Only with Kyle instead of Pietr maybe.

Dammit! That whole sunset-on-the-beach thing was really unwinding her. She had a boyfriend and shouldn't be fantasizing about Kyle's thick lips. And that part when they were dancing when her backside was against his front and they shared perfect, sticky, body-on-body choreography. And his easy strength when he was lifting her.

"What's wrong?" asked Kyle.

The question in the quiet car startled Ivy. "Huh?"

"You just sighed."

"Did I?"

Kyle smiled his crooked smile and turned for a quick look at Ivy. "I get it. I know you don't want to be here. Sorry you got stuck with us."

And here was the sweet boy, not the jerk asshat who changed Ivy's order at the Mexican restaurant because she was too fat.

"It is what it is," Ivy said.

"Don't be mad at me," Kyle said. "I know you're mad at me. Pietr and I were messing with you today, you're not fat. You know you're not fat. You're adorable. We're just..."

Zooey broke away from kissing Pietr and finished Kyle's thought. "Food nazis," Zooey said. "You two are fucking food nazis with your hardcore healthy no-sugar dogma."

Pietr said, "That's kind of harsh. We just--"

"No excuse for making a girl feel bad about her body," Zooey cut him off. "That was a dick move, Kyle."

Kyle chewed on this for a moment, clearly unhappy with the rebuke. He sighed. "You're right. I'm sorry, Ivy."

"'scool." Ivy shrugged, now even more in love with Zooey than ever. There was something about Zooey that reminded Ivy of Poke. Her brashness. Her brutal honesty.

"But Ivy," Zooey said, "I'm just going to lay this out there and you can do whatever you want with it. When I started buying what these guys were selling me about what to eat and what not to eat, I dropped 26 pounds. Seriously. In four months I lost a shitload of weight. Now I can have splurge days like tonight."

"Spinach enchiladas are a splurge?" Ivy asked. "In Georgia, vegetarian mexican food is practically grounds for child abuse."

Zooey laughed. "When you break your addiction to sugar, a flour tortilla wrap tastes like a Mrs. Freshley fruit pie. I practically got a buzz off it. Anyway. You try their sugar detox thing and you can drop two pounds a week. And they are super good cooks. You'd hardly know you were dieting."

"It's not a diet," Pietr said.

"Yeah yeah," Zooey said. "I know..."

Zooey and the boys all said it in unison: "It's a lifestyle!"

Once inside the door, Zooey and the boys stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Zooey stroked both of their chests lovingly.

"Fellas, I don't guess there's any way I could talk you both into doubling me tonight, is there? I really really really can't be late getting home and we're pinched for time."

The boys exchanged a meaningful look at each other. It seemed to Ivy that they were communicating telepathically. She'd witnessed this several times already in less than a day.

"Not nice to leave Ivy by herself," Pietr said.

"We'll be quick," Kyle smiled.

Zooey's lips pursed. "You're never quick, Kyle Kisselhoff. That's part of why I love you and part of why you exasperate me. You get competitive when you two tag team me."

Ivy wondered if she was really hearing what she thought she was hearing.

"We're wasting time," Kyle said. "Me first, okay Pee?"

Pietr nodded. "No prob, Bob."

"Get upstairs," Kyle swatted Zooey's ass.

Zooey turned and waved at Ivy before running up the steps. "See you in 90 seconds, luv!"

Kyle's eyebrows furrowed as he stomped up the steps after Zooey. "I'll make you think '90 seconds,' bitch!" Zooey squealed from somewhere upstairs like she was being tickled.

Pietr looked at Ivy. "Hungry? Want a snack?"

"I'm still stuffed."

"Uh..." Pietr was clearly uncomfortable about the awkwardness of the situation. "You, uh... You want to watch some television? Or take Misery for a walk around the neighborhood or something?"

"Uh..." The awkwardness was contagious. "Sure. A walk maybe?"

Misery dropped a tennis ball on Pietr's shoes and barked.

"Or we could go outside and throw a ball," Pietr said. "Is that okay?"

That's when Ivy noticed the terrifying bulge in Pietr's shorts. It looked like he was shoplifting a Hickory Farm sausage. Pietr looked down.

"Oh sorry," Pietr said. "Zoe got me worked up on the drive home. C'mon. Let's get some air."

Pietr and Ivy took Misery outside, again without a leash. Pietr threw the tennis ball and Misery went after it like it was the most important thing in her world. After a couple tosses, he pointed at Ivy when Misery brought the ball back and Misery dropped the ball at Ivy's feet instead.

Misery seemed disappointed that Ivy could not throw the ball nearly as far as Pietr.

But the dog's dopey, slobbering smile delighted Ivy. She wondered why her mother had been so dead-set against getting a dog or a cat the times Ivy had probed her about it. Dogs were awesome.

A few times the ball throwing was interrupted by another neighbor walking a dog (on a leash of course). Some of the neighbor dogs were oblivious to Misery. Some barked at her. Misery was indifferent to both, sitting beside Pietr's tree trunk leg and lolling her tongue patiently until the neighbor dogs were gone and Pietr or Ivy could throw the ball again.

Kyle stuck his head out the front door. "Pee!"

Pietr looked at Ivy and smiled a sheepish smile. "Shift change."

Back in the house, Zooey was standing in the glow of an open refrigerator shotgunning another can of carbonated water. She was wearing one of Kyle's T-shirts like a night dress. "I need a second to burn one, Darlin'" she said to Pietr, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Go on up and think dirty thoughts. I need you to be ready to go. I can't be late."

"But you have time to smoke?" Pietr growled.

"I have an addiction, thank you!" Zooey shot back with fake annoyance.

"You have several addictions." Kyle smirked over the back of the couch as he reached for the television remote. He was bare-chested, only wearing blue jeans, and he looked like a disheveled model on a firefighter calendar, dripping sweaty afterglow.

"Ivy and I will be outside on the lanai," Zooey announced, waving for Ivy to follow her out the back door. "Girltalk."

By the time Ivy closed the door behind her, Zooey was tapping flame to the tip of a Virginia Slim.

"Sorry," Zooey said. "I know it's a nasty habit."

"Doesn't bother me," Ivy said. "I'm used to it. My best friend, Poke, her brothers both smoke like chimneys. Whenever I walk out of her house the smoke is all over my clothes."

"Poke?"

"Oh. Uh, her real name is Paulette. But she hates that. So, like, her brothers called her Poke."

"Ah, interesting. So this apocryphal boyfriend of yours, Ivy. What's the story with that?"

"Tad. He's a year older. I like older guys."

"We all like older guys, honey. Tell me about Tad."

"He's in band. He's cool. Blond-ish. Really cute."

"Oh!" Zooey brightened. "He's in a band! What kind of band?"

"The kind that marches and wears uniforms."

"Oh." Zooey was much less impressed now. "And you never mess around on him, huh? Never step out?"

Ivy shook her head no.

"Well that's quaint. That's cool. Just so you know, just so we're okay, I want you to know that if you want to hook up with the brothers while you're here, that's totally alright with me. I don't have franchise rights to either of them. We can fuck whoever we want."

"Uh... Okay, Thanks. I guess."

"Although, those two have ruined me for other boys. Both of 'em can fuck like jackhammers and lick pussy like no other guys I've ever been with. I went to a frat party up in Gainesville this past Christmas. I hooked up with a sophomore college cutie that was almost as dorbz as The Brothers. This frat dude was snackalicious. He had some swagger." Zooey stopped to puff and smile a wan, nostalgic grin. "But when it got down to brass tacks and thumping headboards, his game was nowhere as good as those two inside. He had stamina, like the Brothers, but he didn't know how to pull my hair or slap my ass. Guys are all turning into pussies. 'Can I kiss you?' What the fuck? Asking permission to kiss me? Takes all the magic out of it. Takes the sexy out of sex."

Ivy merely listened and blinked in disbelief.

"So, anyway, for whatever reason you ended up trapped inside Disneyland for the summer. You might as well fastpass Space Mountain, right? If you want to fuck one or both of them, you should totally do that." Zooey stubbed out her cigarette in an ashtray, "Or if you want to learn how to suck cock better, Pietr's a real good teacher for that. He's taught me a lot I didn't know. Kyle's a fun suck too, but he cums too much. I practically drown taking that boy's load in my mouth." Zooey stood and stopped with one hand on the door knob. "I like you, Ivy. I'd much rather the boys blow their loads in you than some of the other skank girls who come smelling around here."

"Uhm. Thanks?"

"Once more into the breach, dear girl." Zooey opened the door.

"Get upstairs!" Kyle shouted.

"Going. Going," Zooey sang.

By the time Ivy wandered through the door and closed it, she was alone with Kyle.

"Can I get you anything, Darlin'?" Kyle asked,

"I'm good."

"Come sit with me," Kyle patted the couch.

Ivy sat.

"Why are you all the way over there? Come sit next to me."

Ivy moved until she was close enough to rub her shoulders against Kyle's arm.

"That's more like it. I told you. You're safe. Nobody's going to mess with you, kid. Besides, even if I was in the rape business, you're still safe for another half hour. I'm just a guy."

Kyle smelled really good. Half cologne and half sweat.

Kyle stretched out and put his bare feet up on the ottoman. He had pretty good feet for a boy. His toes were proportional his instep was deep enough to be almost feminine. He thumbed the remote to a documentary about gene editing on the Science Channel.

"You been following this in the news?" he said. "This CRISPR gene editing with custom proteins?"

"No."

"Fascinating," Kyle said.

"Is it like supposed to cure a disease?"

"No," Kyle said. "It's going to cure all the diseases."

From somewhere above, Zooey's sex yelps started coming through the ceiling at a regular drumbeat.

Kyle looked up and then smiled at Ivy. "He's really giving it to her, the big showoff."

Ivy didn't know what to say. Zooey moaned and yelped louder.

"You wanna see something?" Kyle asked. He clicked through some apps on the Smart TV panel and stopped on something called PLEX. Kyle thumbed a security PIN into the remote.The television was suddenly filled with a high definition image of naked Pietr standing beside the bed in his room, fucking Zooey who was on her back lying on the bed. Zooey's toes closest to the camera were clenched tight, folding against the bottom of her feet. Her big breasts bounced hard, almost hitting her in the face. Her expression was pure ecstacy. Pietr pinned her against the bed, holding her ass cheek in one hand and her raised calf in the other. Ivy couldn't really see the blur of Pietr's cock going in and out of Zooey's vagina, but she could clearly see every Herculean ripple in Pietr's backside from his hairline to his heels. His muscular butt was nothing short of breathtaking. His expression was quiet concentration, his jaw set.

There was no sound, but Zooey's bouncing jaw coincided perfectly with the sex yelps coming through the ceiling.

"Oh yeah," Kyle smirked. "He's going to break her. Look at her knees quivering. She's going to blow any second."

Ivy's eyes were saucers. She felt guilty and icky for watching what she was watching. She knew she was invading Zooey's privacy by spying on her intimacy. But she was just so damn beautiful. And Pietr was an eyeful of man perfection as well. Ivy froze, watched, and barely breathed.

"Heeeeere she goes," Kyle said. "Zoe's back is going to arch."

Sure enough, Zooey's midsection floated off the bed.

"And now she's going to diddle her clit..."

Zooey's manicured fingers pressed down into her sex folds and began shimmering left to right.

"Aaaaaand... Lift off!"

Something wet gushed up and out of Zooey's vagina like a firehose.

"Is that cum?" Ivy whispered,

"Her cum. Girl cum. Zoe is a squirter."

"Squirter?"

"Some girls spray juice when they cream," Kyle said. "It's a fucking mess, but it's awesome."

It looked like Zooey was peeing.

"You ever squirt when you come?" Kyle asked.

Ivy blushed. She shook her head in the negative.

Onscreen and upstairs, Zooey writhed and rolled over the top of Pietr's bed.

"Wow," Ivy whispered again.

"She is something else," Kyle nodded.

Pietr stepped back, grabbed Zooey by her ankles and yanked her off the bed and into kneeling on the floor like she was a rag doll. Ivy knew perfectly well what it was like to be on the receiving end of all Pietr's strength. For the first time Ivy could clearly see Pietr's impossible cock and his scruffy nutsack. Zooey's fingers couldn't even close all the way around Pietr's shaft as she leaned in to stretch her lips over the blunt head. Where cocks were concerned, Ivy wasn't even sure Tad and Pietr were the same species.

Zooey's big eyes fluttered up to make contact with Pietr's downward stare. The two were in profile and Ivy could see everything. She could see the sweat droplets on Zooey's forehead, even before she started bouncing her mouth up and down on that monster and making side-to-side twist motions of her head on the upsuck.

Pietr started breathing faster and his lips finally came apart.

Zooey looked like she was having the time of her life. Somehow Ivy could still see a hint of Zooey's smile even though her mouth was stretched to its limits.

Pietr's head rocked back and then looked back down at Zooey who started pulling on her nipple with her free hand. She was putting on a quite a show. Ivy was embarrassed to be peeping in on Zooey's private moment. She could not believe that Zooey actually knew she was being watched. This was wrong.

But it was so sexy that Ivy didn't want to blink. Watching Zooey work Pietr was a thing of art; A masterpiece of fluid femininity.

Zooey's tongue snaked out and she smiled a wicked smile while the pointed pink tip danced around the very tip of Pietr's cock. Pietr shuddered and he began to pump jets of cum, bouncing off Zooey's top lip and onto the flat of her tongue. Pietr's cum was so white and thick it looked like frosting dripping over Zooey's pink lips.

Pietr's tree trunk thighs trembled. His lips peeled back to show anguished teeth as Zooey resumed sucking hard on his spent cock. He kept stepping back, but Zooey followed until Pietr put his paw on her forehead to keep her from following his retreat.

Kyle smiled. "Fucking slut. Look at her chase that cum. She knows better than to try that shit on me. She's trying to burn out his nerves so he can't go again."

Ivy noticed that Kyle was absently pulling at an erection pushing down the right leg of his jeans. Her cheeks flushed hotter with embarrassment.

Onscreen Zooey started rapidly pulling on panties and clipping her bra behind her back. Ivy wasn't sure what time it was exactly. She didn't wear a watch and Kyle had her phone. But Zooey looked like a girl in a hurry. Kyle turned the television back to the Science channel in commercial break for a local Kia dealership.

Zooey rushed down the stairs and crossed to the couch to kiss Kyle. "Bye, Sweetie. I'll call you tomorrow."

Kyle grabbed Zooey's arm and pulled her back in for a much sexier kiss.

"Sweetie?" Zooey looked confused.

"Upstairs," Kyle whispered.

"Sweetie, no!" Zooey whined. "I don't have time. I'm already cutting it close."

Kyle's eyebrows got serious. "Did you just tell me no?"

"Kyle, baby, I told you I'm going to get grounded."

Pietr walked into the scene, mercifully covered in gym shorts and a graphic T. "What's going on?"

"Kyle wants to go again," Zooey said.

Pietr's eyebrows took a turn for the serious and he looked at his watch. He looked at Kyle with disapproval. The brothers shared their trademark silent communication, both of them telepathically hashing something out.

Pietr's shoulders slumped. He looked Zooey. "You know how this works, girl. Get your ass upstairs."

Zooey's face went crimson. Her jaw clenched. She stormed back toward the stairs. Kyle followed, but Pietr grabbed Kyle upper arm as he passed.

"Brother?" Pietr grumbled, his voice low.

"She doesn't tell us no." Kyle grumbled back.

"We've got the house to ourselves for weeks," Pietr grumbled. "You're going to fuck this up for all of us. I know you're still mad about Peckerhead Paulsen. But we can work that out later. No need to go scorched earth tonight."

Kyle shook his arm out of Pietr's grip and he turned on Pietr. Ivy really thought she was about to see a fistfight.

"We'll deal with it," Kyle mumbled. "She doesn't get to step out of her place. Not even one step."

That moment again. The boys face to face, staring each other down.

Pietr was the one who looked down first. He nodded with resignation. Then Kyle was headed upstairs. Pietr looked at his watch again. "I apologize for the drama, Ivy."

"None of my beeswax," Ivy said.

Pietr sighed and whispered angrily to himself. "Goddammit."

"I think I'm going to turn in," Ivy said.

Pietr nodded. "Okay. I understand. Let me help you with Desdemona."

Ivy and Pietr walked to the guest room and Pietr pulled out the fold out couch bed once again.

"It really is a pitiful mattress," Pietr said. "I'm really sorry."

"I'll be fine."

"Okay. If you change your mind, you can sleep with me or Kyle," Pietr said. "You're safe." Pietr paused and then said, "Or at least as safe as you want to be."

Ivy really wanted to ask if Pietr and Zooey knew that Kyle had a camera in Pietr's room.

Ivy nodded. "Good to know." She didn't know why she said it, but it seemed like she had to say something.

"C'mon, Miz," Pietr said to the dog. "Out."

Misery followed Pietr and he shut the guest room door behind him. Ivy changed into her long night shirt, turned out the lights, lay in the middle of the hide-a-bed, and stared at the pattern the streetlights made on the wall through the filter of the venetian blinds. Fifteen minutes later she heard a commotion of voices coming from the living room followed by an angry slam of the front door.

Then a long silence.

"That was so not cool," Pietr voice.

Another long pause.

Kyle: "I know. I know. Shit! I'm an asshole."

"Her phone lit up with her dad's number three times while you two were at it," Pietr said.

"Really?"

"She's fucked, brother."

"I'm an asshole," Kyle moaned. "I can't believe I did that. Where's Ivy?"

"She went to bed."

"Desdemona?"

Long pause.

Peter spoke next, it was his deep voice but it sounded like gibberish nonsense.

Kyle answered him, also speaking in the same clucking gibberish tongue.

Peter spoke again, louder and more angry. That's how long it took for Ivy to realize they were speaking in a foreign language, one that sounded a lot like Russian.

Kyle sighed. "Ah shit. What do you want me to say? I'm sorry. You want to play some Call of Duty?"

"No."

"C'mon man. Don't do that to me."

"We've got a busy day tomorrow," Pietr said calmly. "You better get some rest."

Ivy could not sleep. The bed was not her bed. The room was too bright from the streetlamps. She couldn't stop thinking about the visual of Zooey under Pietr's sexual command. She couldn't stop thinking about how Zooey, such a masterful free spirit, was -- in the end -- as submissive a wet wash rag to the brothers as Ivy had been to Tad. All her admiration for Zooey's older girlness, and Zooey was just as captive to the pleasure whims of her boys as Ivy had been to Tad's neediness and head games.

But oh my gawd. When Ivy thought about the chiseled backside view of Pietr's butt as he thrust into Zooey like a machine... When Ivy thought about the way Kyle's skin smelled after his first session with Zooey, the warmth radiating off of him as he sat next to her and watched the sexy tableau together... That moment when she saw Kyle's penis pushing down the leg of his jean and the lusty way he stared at the television while his hand pulled at his erection...

It was almost enough to distract from the sharp wires of the sleeper couch poking up through the crappy mattress into her back. The boys were not exaggerating. It was like an iron maiden torture device. A bed of nails. The mattress wasn't much more than a sack filled with foam scraps. The spring mesh underneath was brutal.

Ivy couldn't remember the last time she'd rubbed one out of her pussy for her own satisfaction, but the visualizations of the evening were still in her bloodstream. She thought again about how she hadn't kissed Kyle as they were standing in the surf, watching the sunset. How she could have done that so easily. She remembered Zooey's admonition that Ivy would regret not kissing Kyle. Ivy replayed that secret fleeting moment after Kyle called Zooey upstairs for the second time when Ivy thought Pietr was going to sit down next to her and watch Kyle fuck Zooey on a hidden camera. How she half expected that she was going to get to see what Kyle's naked butt looked like when he mounted a girl.

Ivy's pussy felt warm and needy. She allowed herself to touch her clitoris. She heard her wetness slither between her fingers and the melange of her real hand and real clit and thick imagination swirled into a single fog that buzzed in her ears. For some reason she fixated on the way Zooey's toes were curled against the sole of her foot so tightly as Pietr pounded away on her, how graceful and enraptured she was. How in-the-moment-of-rapture she was.

Ivy's breasts seemed constrained and the room was too warm. She flipped the bedcovers down to her knees and lifted the nightshirt until her nipples were kissed by the slow circulation from the fan over the bed. She pushed her diddle hand back through the band of her panties and thought about that animal look the boys gave each other when it seemed like they might fight. And then her memory switched to that helpless feeling of the boys tossing her back and forth during the dance party. How strong they were. How powerful. How small and helpless Ivy felt under their control. Control. Control. Controoool. She flashed to Zooey's assurance that Zooey was okay with Ivy fucking the boys if she wanted to; almost encouraging it. Pietr's chiseled butt. Kyle's glistening ches--

"Woooahhhaaa!" Ivy came so hard that her own orgasmic shout startled her.

Ivy sat up in the dark, listening between her panting breaths for sounds in the house. She collapsed back in the awful mattress and immediately regretted it. It felt like she was sleeping on a knife fight.

After an hour more of squirming, Ivy knew that Desdemona was winning. There was no way she was going to be able to give in to sleep on such an uncomfortable monstrosity. She got up and barefooted back to the kitchen without needing to turn on a light. She opened the fridge and looked for a soda, but of course the Healthy Twins had no such sugar poison in the house. Ivy grabbed the coconut LaCroix that she'd seen Zooey go for. She popped the top and sipped. It didn't taste like much but it was cold and wet. Ivy heard the click of claws on the tile floor and looked down to see Misery looking up at her in the glow of refrigerator light. Clearly confused.

"Sorry girl," Ivy whispered. "A lot on my mind. Can't sleep."

Ivy slowly unlocked the deadbolt on the back door to the lanai and she and Misery walked out into the humidity. Ivy took her spot in the rattan chair and sipped her carbonated water, listening to the quiet breeze shoosh through the lanai screen. Misery used the open door opportunity to walk through the plastic flap of her dog door and take a short pee near the fence.

Then the water was gone and Ivy felt silly sitting in her nightclothes on a stranger's porch. Misery followed her back inside and she locked the door behind her. Ivy's bare feet padded back through the house towards the guest bedroom.

She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked up into the darkness. She so didn't want to go back to that awful fold-out bed. Her mind replayed the boys' invitations for her to sleep in their beds. It was crazy, but Ivy couldn't get her feet to walk toward the guest room. Her hand reached up and caressed the newel post topper for the handrail. She hadn't been upstairs yet. She didn't know the geography of the house. Even if she let herself up to sleep in a strange boy's bed, Ivy had no idea whose bedroom was whose.

Would she sleep in Pietr's bed? Or Kyle's? Pietr seemed a safer choice. He seemed the least likely to force himself on her. But Kyle was just so damn cute, it would make such a good story to tell Poke. "I totally slept with him." "No waaaay, Ho! You? Him?"

Ivy's feet started up the stairs, one tentative step at a time. Ivy's rational brain seemed shocked by this. Her feet were traitors. Her nipples were traitors too, because they were stiff against her shirt. Up up up to the turn in the landing and then up again, feeling out the steps of the staircase in the darkness until the moonlight at the top of the landing welcomed her safe arrival.

Matching doors were on each side of the hall. Both shut. Ivy's heart beat in her throat as she picked the left door. She turned the handle and creaked it open. She could see the bed, but wasn't sure what boy was under the covers. He was up against the far side, which gave her plenty of mattress landscape to claim for herself. She lifted the covers and slid in. The mattress was perfectly soft. The sheets were perfectly weighted for the temperature of the room. And the scent. No doubt. It was..

Kyle stirred at Ivy's presence. He sat up on his hip and elbow. "Desdemona get to you?" He whispered.

"Do you mind?" Ivy whispered back.

"Not at all." Kyle reached out and touched Ivy's breast.

Ivy gasped, but did nothing to stop the boy.

"You're wearing clothes," Kyle said. "Take them off."

"Take off my clothes?" Ivy whispered nervously.

"They're not your clothes. Anything in my bed belongs to me. My bed, my rules. I don't want you heating up the mattress. Strip."

Ivy turned to wood.

"Now," Kyle said forcefully. "If you won't follow the rules, go sleep with Pee or go back down to Desdemona."

Ivy's heart beat in her throat. Even more than the crazy, impulsive climbing of the stairs, she could not believe that her hands pulled her nightshirt over her head and dropped it in the floor beside the bed.

She lay back down, her pulse drumming hard against the side of her neck.

Kyle was still on his elbow. He reached down and grabbed the thin hip strap of Ivy's panties. "Are you menstruating?" Kyle grumbled.

"No."

Kyle came to his knees on the bed, tenting the covers off both of them. Kyle stripped Ivy's panties off like she was a Barbie doll and flung them onto his desk across the room. He was backlit by the window in the room, but Ivy could see that he was bare naked as well.

Here we go, Ivy thought. Sorry, Tad.

Kyle flopped back into the bed, pulled the covers over his shoulder and turned away from Ivy. "G'night, Cuteness."

Ivy lay, fully aware of every inch of the topsheet against every inch of her bare skin. Her stiff nipples reacted to every millimeter shift in the topsheet. Ivy was sure the friction of cotton on her pink nubbins must be giving off sparks, so engorged and sensitive they seemed. She poked her left foot out from under the covers, which opened up her bare vulva to the weight of the linen.

Really? So this was like... Actual sleep? She was naked in bed with a beautiful sex maniac boy, and he was going to sleep?

Ivy breathed the bedclothes in through a long draw of her nostrils. The scent of boy musk and faded cologne and fabric softener on fresh linen was the best thing she'd ever smelled. The soft mattress took her down. The madness of the day was over, apparently. Her tensions evaporated.

She surrendered and slipped into her favorite reoccuring dream about the time she and her father spent the night at a tree house hotel in Seattle.

CHAPTER SEVEN: TICKLING & INSENSITIVITY

The wake song on Kyle's phone was obnoxious. Some New Country sonic abortion that made Ivy's teeth hurt and her respect for Kyle plummet. Too much twang, and too damn early.

She felt the bed shift with Kyle's movements and she remembered where she was. Then she remembered she was naked. Followed closely by remembering that Kyle was also naked. She saw Kyle swing his legs over the edge of the bed and rub his face. He swiped the alarm silent. In the morning light, Ivy saw it all. First his back and buns. Then he stood and stretched, his musculature elongating as his palms pushed to the ceiling, his thighs breathtakingly sculpted. He turned sideways and Ivy lasered in on his stiff penis doing upward stretches of its own. Good god, he was perfect. He had some fuzzy pubes, but they were short and shaped into a tight box framing the top of his junk. His balls were tight and mostly hairless. Ivy wasn't sure why, but her mouth was watering. Kyle's goods were easily twice as long as Tad's and as thick around as a banana. Maybe thicker. It wasn't a monster dong like Pietr's, but it was perfect for Kyle's perfect frame.

Kyle turned and caught Ivy staring at his junk.

"You look terrified," he said with a yawn. "Don't flatter yourself. Just morning wood." He walked around the bed patted Ivy's exposed foot hanging from the covers. "C'mon. Get up. I'll make you a protein breakfast before we head out."

"What time is it?" Ivy asked. Her fingers still itched for her phone or her tablet.

"Almost seven."

"What?" groaned Ivy. "What the hell? It's summer vacation!"

"Not for us, it's not," Kyle mumbled. "C'mon. We've got clients waiting on us."

Ivy heard the shower down the hall hiss and knew Pietr was up as well.

"Are you deaf?" Kyle said. "Move."

"I'm not deaf," Ivy said. "I'm buck ass naked. You threw my clothes halfway across the room."

"So," Kyle shrugged. "Why do you think I'm telling you to move it. I want to see those titties of yours up and bouncing. That ass too. You've got a sweet little can there, girl."

"Get out," Ivy pulled the covers to her neck and swished a hand. "Go. Let me get dressed."

Kyle exhaled. His thick sausage was still pointing up at his chin, but it was a lot closer now, practically hovering over her face as Kyle stood along her side of his bed. Ivy couldn't NOT look at it, twitching so close to her face. It occurred to her that Kyle's hard penis was too big to fit in her mouth and probably too big to slide into her vagina without damaging her. For the first time, Ivy had second thoughts about whether she was up for all the painful physics that came along with sexual responsibilities of being an adult woman.

"Girl," Kyle moaned and then checked himself, shaking his head. He walked around the room gathering up Ivy's nightshirt and panties. Ivy was certain Kyle was going to hand them to her so she could dress under the modesty of the sheets.

But he didn't.

He clawed the bottom of the bedclothes and with one, hard, magicians snap-tug, ripped them off the bed, exposing Ivy.

"I need to wash these too," Kyle smiled. "Move your arms."

Ivy was covering her breasts with one arm and a handbra. Her other hand covered her muff. "No."

"It wasn't a question, Ivy," Kyle said. "I want to see the goods. You're going to show them."

"Please leave."

"Okay," Kyle turned and Ivy exhaled.

Then he spun on her, dropped the laundry, and locked her nearest ankle against the bed with his powerful grip. He smiled. The fingers on his free hand made a fluttering motion as he lowered it toward the bottom of Ivy's trapped foot.

"No!" Ivy squealed. "Please. Don't do that. No!"

"Oh yes," Kyle smiled. His wavy fingers made contact with Ivy's instep and walked across the middle of the bottom of Ivy's foot.

Ivy lost all interest in modesty as the fizzy tickling lit up her scalp as if she had bit into an electrical cord. She screamed and flailed against Kyle's insistent strength, struggling to get away from the tickle.

Kyle stopped abruptly and looked Ivy over. "Nice," he smiled. "Nice rack. You've got great cones on those narps. Great color, too."

"Perv!" Ivy shouted.

Kyle smiled that sideways smirk again. "You got that right." He turned his naked butt toward Ivy. "C'mon get dressed." He bent to pick up the pile of Ivy's clothes and the sheets. He walked out or the room with them.

"Excuse me, I'm naked!" Ivy called. "You've seen the show, now leave me some dignity to wear downstairs."

"Pee hasn't seen you naked," Kyle said. "Only fair he gets his turn too."

"Kyle!" Ivy shouted. "Knock it off!"

Pietr was in the door frame pinching a towel around his waist, his hair was still limp with moisture. "What's the hubub?" He looked in and saw Ivy sitting upright on Kyle's bed. "Oh," he said flatly.

It was unmistakable. Pietr wasn't aroused by the site of Ivy naked in Kyle's bed. He was crushed. His shoulders slumped and the air went out of him. He looked broken. Pietr turned and walked into his room and closed the door behind him.

It all happened so fast. In a matter of sixty seconds Ivy's emotions had gone from afraid to annoyed to tickled to embarrassed to guilty. That's when Ivy knew that Pietr's talk about crushing on her was probably real. That was the only explanation for his wounded expression at seeing her in Kyle's bed.

She wasn't sure why, but Ivy felt terrible. Stunned.

Ivy stood and walked toward the stair landing. Suddenly her vulnerable nudity didn't seem that important. Both boys had already seen everything there was to see. They had eaten every morsel of her secret with their eyes, and she had mapped every firm inch of the boys into her permanent memory as well.

She moved through the house like it was her own.

CHAPTER EIGHT: BLADES OF THUNDER

Ivy dressed in her worst clothes. Or at least the worst clothes she had bothered to pack. Pietr was in the kitchen. He had a big thermal jug the size of a small barrel with water and ice in it. Pietr was slicing oranges and dropping them in the water along with lengths of rosemary from the planter outside.

"Whatcha making?" Ivy asked.

"Water," Pietr said flatly. He was dressed for yardwork in worn athletic shorts and a faded T.

"Looks fancy."

"Nope. Just water."

Ivy waited for Pietr to look at her. He was deliberately avoiding eye contact.

"Hey," Ivy touched Pietr's arm gently.

Pietr looked at Ivy patiently.

"I... " Ivy struggled for words. "I didn't even know whose room I was walking into last night. It was dark."

Pietr shrugged. "No problemo, Ivy," he said softly. "I'm used to it. Girls have been picking Kyle over me since we were four. Hell, everybody prefers Kyle over me. I'm used to it. Don't sweat it. We're good."

Something in Ivy's heart shattered and she wanted to crawl under a piece furniture and die.

Then Kyle was in the kitchen. "We ready, Pee?"

"Truck is loaded, boss. Just capping the bucket and we are rolling."

Kyle looked at Ivy. "Do you have a hat?"

"No."

"You need a hat. Pee, Ivy needs a hat."

Pietr pointed toward a closet. "I think mom's beach hat is in there."

"I don't need a hat."

Kyle smiled and shook his head. "As fair as your skin is? This is Florida, Darlin." Kyle produced a ridiculous wide brimmed straw hat from the closet. It was practically a sombrero, and definitely not stylish. "Hang on to this," Kyle said. It's going to be a long day in the sun. Got a book?"

Ivy nodded. She held up a James Patterson paperback.

"Good," Kyle said. "Next to a good hat, a good book your best friend. What is a good book, Pee?"

Pietr finished capping the big jug of water and lifted it by the handle in a bicep curl. "A good book is a garden carried in your pocket."

"Damn skippy," Kyle nodded. "Truck!"

"Oh sweet sweaty Jesus," Ivy gargled, stepping out the front door. "I can't breathe. The air is soup!"

"Just a Sunshine State of mind," Pieter smirked.

The boys were doing it again. That dance of theirs. That silent, hivemind communication thing. First they did it when they stopped at the gas station to fuel the truck and fill the big canisters with unleaded. Kyle ran the pump while Pietr grabbed fresh carrot sticks from the C-store to pair with the cheese and salami chunks in the lunch cooler. This was something they'd done a hundred times before.

Pietr threw a banana right at Kyle's head, which was obviously looking down at the plastic gas can he was filling. Somehow, inexplicably, without glancing up Kyle's hand snapped upwards like a cobra at the last millisecond and the banana smacked into his palm with a satisfying "thwap!" sound. Kyle transferred the banana to his teeth as he screwed the pour spout tops back on the gas canisters. He looked up at Ivy with his big yellow banana grin and crossed his eyes comically.

Ivy snorted. The boy was utterly adorable.

Rolling through the morning, the truck puttered past a public swimming pool.

Ivy raised up in her seat. "What's that? Is that a swimming pool? Is that for your neighborhood? Can we go there? Can't you leave me there instead of making me watch you mow?"

Kyle and Pietr exchanged looks.

"Er... That's probably not a great idea," Kyle said, "There's a kind of bad element that hangs out there."

Ivy looked through the decorative wrought iron fence at lots of new deck chairs and an immaculate kidney shaped pool. "Looks okay to me."

"Some bad hombres there," Pietr said.

Ivy furrowed her brow. She knew the boys were bullshitting her, but she wasn't sure what the game really was.

They eventually rolled to a stop in front of an unassuming home that didn't look fundamentally different than all the other homes Ivy had seen in Florida. Kyle pushed a pathetic first generation iPhone into Ivy’s hand. "If Zooey calls, answer it and take a message. Anybody else, don't answer it."

"What the hell is this?" Ivy looked at the worn out phone with disgust. "Did you steal this from a museum? Are you a drug dealer? Are you Jason Bourne?"

Kyle shrugged. "It's all the phone I need."

“How do you even find apps that work on this old thing? How do you Snapchat? How do you communicate with the world?”

“I talk,” Kyle shrugged.

Pietr wasted no time pulling a mower from the bed of the truck and yanking it to life. Kyle was right behind him. Again, complete hivemind communication as they both seemed to know exactly where to go without any verbalizing. Ivy quickly realized that they were mowing in a pattern, but it was too complicated an algorithm for her to figure out. Kind of like watching a Roomba vacuum. They knew exactly where they were going and didn't miss anything.

Ivy only made it through six pages before she was startled by the sound of Pietr dropping his mower in the back of the truck and grabbing a weed trimmer. Pietr threw it at Kyle -- who was still mowing -- like a spear. Again, Kyle let the safety stop on the mower handle pop through his fingers and turned at the last second to catch the incoming missile he couldn't possibly see, as if it were part of a circus act the brothers had perfected for Ivy's benefit. There was statistically zero seconds of unapplied motion between the time Kyle pulled the weed trimmer out of the air until he ripped the pull cord and the farting nylon head of the trimmer was dropped down to edge the driveway. Zero wasted effort.

Ivy looked back down at her novel, but somehow the weird performance art playing outside the cab of the truck was more compelling.

She flashed back to Poke saying, "So they own a lawnmower. Big whoop. I'm not impressed."

"I think you'd actually be impressed," Ivy prayed to Poke in a barely audible mutter. "I kind of am."

The lawn mower roared back to life and Kyle pulled it backwards along the sidewalk and street, sucking up grass trimmings while Pietr followed right behind the front of the mower and swept a straw broom back and forth like a Curling pro at the Winter Olympics. No grass clippings were left behind.

Ivy literally gasped when Pietr reached down to grab the sides of the mower body while the mower was still running! Was he insane? His fingers curled under right where the blade was spinning. But again... Last millisecond... Kyle turned and let go of the emergency stop on the handle right as Pietr's fingers slipped under the frame. There was an insane level of trust between those boys. Ivy realized they were not showing off for her. She didn't exist when they were doing their thing.

The driver door opened and Pietr jumped in like he was a getaway driver on a bank heist. He was turning the key before his body stopped rocking the seat, and his feet danced on the clutch and accelerator. He stepped into the gas pedal and let the momentum of the truck taking off close his door. Pietr did a perfect three-point turnaround in a neighbor's driveway and drove back in the direction they came from, only slowing the truck long enough for Kyle to toss the last weed whacker in the bed of the truck and jump in behind it.

"Is that safe?" Ivy asked, looking through the back window as Kyle gassed up the gear while the Pietr sped off to the next customer.

"All questions are valid," Pietr said. "Not all answers enlighten."

Moments later, Kyle's feet came through the passenger window, followed closely by Kyle. Ivy glanced at the speedometer. The truck was doing 45 mph.

Soon enough the truck pulled up to another curb and the circus repeated. Then again. Then again.

In the eleven or so minutes that Ivy was in the cab of the truck alone at each stop, supposedly babysitting a phone that never rang, she tried to read her Alex Cross novel but never made it very far before staring out the window at the boys doing their thing.

"Some vacation," Ivy mumbled to herself. "Sitting in a hot truck and watching boys mow."

But then Ivy thought back to her last summer vacation. Poke had it bad for an older BMX biker boy, Teller Wikham. Poke and Ivy spent five hours baking in the sun one hot afternoon at Skatezone Park watching Teller Wikham try to pull off a bike trick called a Fakie Rollback 180. Five hours of sitting poised and patient through Teller's ineffectual fumbling and the bike clattering out from under him every time he managed to get any air. He finally pulled it off exactly once before dinner time and the two girls stood and clapped like monkeys. Afterwards Poke made fun of herself for being such a girl about the whole thing.

"Blondie," Poke said as they passed a McDonald's chocolate shake back and forth on the couch, taking pulls at the the sweet concrete through a collapsing straw, "If I ever am dumb enough to Fakie 180 again, I want you to kick me right in the pussy."

"He was pretty cute," Ivy said.

"No boy is cute enough to waste a goddamn summer day on a Fakie 180. The partline in my hair is sunburned."

"Fakie 180" was now part of their BFF shorthand. Anything boring that they did just because they were into a boy was a Fakie 180.

The ruthless efficiency of the Brothers Kisselhoff were a long way from Teller Wikham's endless string of bike crashes. The morning was giving way to afternoon and the boys were starting to sweat through their shirts, dark rings forming at their necks and pits. Once again Ivy found herself staring at Kyle, trying to decide whether he was a just little too lanky, or if he was perfect. The answer was -- obviously -- yes.

Ivy thought about the morning. How casual Kyle had been about their nudity. How comfortable he was in his own skin. How not-predatory he was with her vulnerability. That cocky swagger of his. She remembered how amazingly impressive his morning-stiff penis had been. For the first time she let herself wonder what she would do at bedtime tonight. Would it go the same way? Would she wait to take her clothes off and crawl into bed with him? Would Kyle be as passive with her tonight not just having sex twice with Zooey?

Ivy let herself wonder a little bit about the consequences of maybe letting Kyle be Kyle, if he wanted to. Would he expect a lot from her? Would he expect her to have Zooey's sex skills? Ivy knew she didn't have the experience a boy like Kyle expected from his girls. She was pretty sure that the erect penis she witness earlier that morning would -- in no way -- fit inside her.

Sigh. She'd have to call and break up with Tad first though. It was only right. But she didn't have a phone. So if something happened, who could really hold it against her that she didn't follow proper good girl protocol for trading future husbands? Sure she could call Tad on Kyle's phone sitting on the bench seat, but... Maybe Kyle had limited minutes or something. That wasn't right to do without asking.

And what about Pietr?

Ivy watched big Pietr's forlorn expression as he moved about his chores. While never the force of personality that Kyle was, Pietr's usual stoic expression was especially sad this morning. She thought about what he said standing at the fridge. Should she do a mercy night of sleeping with Pietr instead of Kyle? Would Pietr make her get naked too, or was that just Kyle's alpha-boy thing?

In a way it was bad to think about cheating on Tad. But it was kind of double-bad for Ivy to cheat on Tad and lead Pietr on, if she wasn't really into Pietr. He was pretty sexy though. In his own--

Kyle's phone rang and Ivy flinched. The display showed Zooey's photo.

"Hey!"

"Ivy?"

"C'est moi."

"How you doing, honey?"

"Sweaty and bored."

"Say no more. Been there more times than I can count. Are they almost done with the Baxter yard?"

"Mmmm. Lemmelook. I'd say about two-thirds done."

"Erf," Zooey said. "They're behind."

"Really? How much faster can you mow a yard? They're like an act on America's Got Talent."

"Maybe they started late," Zooey said. "Anyway, you're the voicemail now honey, so take a message. You ready?"

"Shoot," Ivy said.

"Tell them that the Lagharis are a cancel and Ms. Chi is on a second nonpayment. Their call on whether or not to do it. Repeat that back to me, honey."

"Leatherface canceled. Mrs. Cheek second no payment, their call."

"Close enough. Oh hey! I'm just now looking at the schedule. You get to meet Doctor Finch today! I forgot he was Wednesday. You're going to love him. Sweetest old man. Just a doll."

"Kay."

"Be sure to send Doc Finch my love."

"Kay."

"Any of those skanks come around doing drivebys?" Zooey asked.

"Uhh... I haven't seen anybody."

"Well girl-to-girl, if you can keep the Brothers away from Molly Ardman, run a little interference, yaknow? I'd be eternally grateful. I'll figure out a way to return the favor."

"I don't know who that is," Ivy said.

"You'll know. She's the skank with a nose like an aardvark. Aardvark Ardman."

"I don't think you have anything to worry about."

Just then Ivy saw it. A convertible BMW 1 Series with the top down and two high school girls in it. One stunning redhead and a rail thin strawberry redhead riding shotgun. They slowed down, honked and waved at the boys, quickly rolling to a stop.

"What was that?" Zooey said. "I heard a honk. Who's honking at them?"

"Uhhh," Ivy stuttered, "Don't know. Black BMW?"

"Convertible? Redhead?"

"Yeah,"

The relief in Zooey voice was unmistakable. "Beck Pyrtle. No problem. She got the clap from the Lacrosse Team. She's on the Brother's No Bang list."

Kyle and Pietr both stopped what they were doing, smiled, and sauntered to the curb next to the BMW. They leaned over like guys who owned the world and started chatting up the girls inside. For girls who were supposedly on their "no bang" list, the brothers were certainly pouring a lot of charm their way.

Kyle turned, smiling, to look at Ivy in the truck and noticed the phone to her ear. His smile disappeared. He held his index finger and pinky pointed at the side of his face in the international hand signal for "telephone" and mouthed the word "Zooey?"

Ivy nodded.

"Back in a sec," Ivy heard Kyle say to the redhead he was breadcrumbing. Kyle started for the cab of the truck.

"Kyle's walking this way," Ivy said. "He wants to talk to you."

"Well I don't want to talk to him. I'm fucking grounded because of his horny doubledown bullshit. Tell him to fuck himself. Tell Kyle the Lagharis are a cancel, Mrs. Chi is on second nonpayment, and to go fuck himself."

Kyle reached through the window for the phone right as it clicked dead.

"She..." Ivy said, "She had to go. To the bathroom."

Kyle looked disappointed. "Okay. Be that way," he muttered to no one. To Ivy: "Who canceled?"

"Lou Gehrig."

Kyle's thick eyebrows ruffled and then he understood. "Gotcha. Anybody else?"

"Mrs. Cheeze missed her second payment. Zooey said 'it's up to you.' Whatever that means."

"Thanks, Ivy. Er... Exactly how mad did Zoe sound? Really. Girl opinion."

"Pretty mad." Ivy cringed a little.

"Like... Two day mad? Like three day mad? You're a girl, how long of a mad did it sound like to you?"

"Like 'Until I get off being grounded and you take me to Red Lobster' mad.' "

"Fuck," Kyle spat. "That's what I was afraid of. PEE! We gotta roll!"

The boys both said something that made the girls in the BMW wave and drive away, giggling. The brothers finished mowing and walked back to the truck.

"Kelly Chi missed her second invoice," Kyle said to Pietr. "What do you think?"

Pietr sighed. "Well we're behind, we've still got Mr. Banford and Doc Finch, both of whom are high maintenance, and I'd like the chance to actually eat something before I go back for afternoon football practice."

"We're okay for time. Lagheri's canceled."

Pietr pinched the top of his nose. Both boys split at the front of the truck and walked to their respective doors, Kyle driving this time. They talked to each other through the rolled down windows, across Ivy, without getting in.

"We knew this day was coming," Pietr said.

"Yep."

"If we do it today, we're pretty much doing it without pay forever. You know that, Boss."

"Yep. But it's not a corner lot or anything. Half of her yard is that succulent landscaping. We can write it off on mom's taxes."

"Okay," Pietr sighed again. "Let's do it. But not trimming. Not for free."

Kyle drove to the next house and the boys zipped the grass away with the mowers. Both boys mowed out of sight into the back yard, behind a tall white fence. Only Pietr came back. He lifted his mower into the bed of the truck and opened up the snack cooler to share with Ivy. Then he poured them both orange-and-rosemary infused water from the cooler to wash it down.

"Where's Kyle?" Ivy asked.

"Smoking," Pietr said.

"Kyle smokes? Really?"

"It's not like that. Ms. Chi is a widow. Her husband used to smoke cigars. She thinks that if Kyle smokes a cigar and leaves the stub in the ashtray on her lanai, that'll keep burglars and ne'er-do-wells from breaking into her house. Like a man still lives there."

"Oh that's kind of sad," Ivy said, snapping into some carrots.

"She's having a hard time," Pietr said. "She's probably going to lose the house. Mr. Chi was an engineer at Rockwell. I don't think she can make the note on her own."

"That's even sadder," Ivy said. "Is that why you're doing her yard for free?"

"I'm a mercenary," Pietr said. "I don't do anything for free but football. We'll get the money back from Ms. Chi when mom writes it off on her taxes. Kyle and I are an LLC."

"Oh." Ivy had no idea what an LLC was.

Kyle walked through the fence gate making a sour expression. He spit in the yard several times. Ivy could smell the cigar smoke on him when he opened the truck door.

"Pee, please!" Kyle begged, extending his hand.

Pietr handed Kyle a cup of water and he gulped it and held the cup out for a refill.

"God damn," Kyle groaned. "She must be buying those cigars from the Mexicans in the Home Depot parking lot now. That was exceptionally awful!"

"You're a mench," Pietr said.

"That's really kind of sweet," Ivy said, "what you guys do for her."

Both boys stepped outside the truck and ripped their sweaty shirts off in unison.

"What are you doing?" Ivy asked.

The boys loaded back in the truck simultaneously and Ivy could really smell their musk, sandwiched between them. "We're gettin' gay," Kyle laughed.

"What?"

"Never mind," Kyle said. "You'll see."

Ivy saw. As soon as the truck stopped in front of the next house, a tall slender man wearing a white suit that was much too formal for the weather, complete with an ascot, stepped out of the front door and started waving furiously from the wrist.

"Well hay-low gentlemen!" the man sang.

"Afternoon to you, Mr. Banford," Pietr said.

"Pietr, dammit," said the man, "if you don't start calling me David I'm going to cut your tip in half! I warned you."

"Sorry, David," smiled Kyle. "You know our momma. If we didn't follow protocol, she'd drop out of the sky on a bungee cord and whack us with a rolling pin."

Kyle playfully smacked David Banford on the butt as he pushed his unstarted mower past the man. This delighted David Banford. Both boys pulled the rip cords on their mowers at the same time and began their lawn dance.

David Banford saw Ivy sitting in the truck and gasped. He did a funny run-walk toward her and leaned through the window.

"What are those beasts doing to you, poor girl?" he asked. "It's sweltering out here. Positively sultry! Are you the new Zooey?"

"No sir," Ivy said. "I'm just visiting."

David Banford's eyes went thin. "Georgia," he said. "But... Don't tell me. Say something else. Say this, 'I saw three penguins at the very cold zoo.' "

Ivy giggled. "I saw three penguins at the very cold zoo."

David Banford snapped his fingers, clearly delighted with himself. "Central Georgia. Atlanta, but not Atlanta. I just can't figure out if you're north suburbs or west suburbs."

"North," Ivy said.

"Gah, don't tell me!" David Banford said. "Another minute and I'd have had it. Holy Christmas, it's oppressive out here. Come on inside with me, honey. I've got lemonade and frozen Girl Scout cookies!"

This sounded wonderful to Ivy, who wasted no time exiting the truck.

Somehow Kyle heard this exchange. "She doesn't need cookies," he shouted over the roar of the motor. "We'll never get her in ketosis if she keeps inhaling sugar."

"You hush, Kyle Kisselhoff!" David Banford shook an indignant index finger. "This sweet thing doesn't need to be on a diet, and you aren't her mother!" David Bandford looked conspiratorially at Ivy and punctuated a self-satisfied "so there" nod.

Ivy tried not to clap.

David Banford's house was an icebox. It felt marvelous, and also explained why he was dressed in a suit. He sat Ivy in a wingback chair that was facing the picture window on the front of the house. He gingerly placed a silver tray on the tiny table between them. It was topped with sweating glasses lemonade and three perfect fans of Thin Mints, Tagalongs, and Lemon ginger squares. He eased down onto the other wingback chair, sitting on the front edge of the cushion with both his knees pointed at Ivy.

"This lemonade is delicious," Ivy said.

David Banford nodded, "And so is the view, am I lying?"

Girl and man turned to look through the window and watch the shirtless boys glisten under the noonday sun. The cuts of their muscles were dark with yard dust and the tops of their muscles were highlighted with a white glow of reflected sweat, making them look unworldly. "Best day of the fortnight," he said wistfully. "If I was twenty years younger..."

"They are very cute," Ivy nodded.

"Cute my left buttocks," David Banford said. "Perfection. Absolute perfection." David Banford sipped. "Alpharetta."

"Er... Yeah," Ivy said. "That's impressive, Mister Ba--"

"David!"

"That's impressive, David."

"I teach voice and diction and dialog coach actors," he smiled. "A few singing lessons on the side, but not so much any more. Not quite the theater scene here that there was in Portland."

"You're a Florida transplant, David?"

He nodded. "Water is wet. The words 'Florida transplant' are redundant. We're all from somewhere else."

"What broug--" Ivy began.

David Banford cut her off. "My mother was dying. This was her place. I came down for her end-of-life hospice. By the time she left me, I was just kind of in the web, you know? The beaches. The warm winters. An adorable Cuban stud who owns a consignment shop in Palm Harbor but couldn't deal with a few minor daddy issues."

"It's always a boy," nodded Ivy wisely.

"Isn't it though," David Banford took a sip of his lemonade, pinching the straw as he drew from it. "So what's your story, missy? Why are you really sitting in a hot truck on mow day?"

Ivy's mouth gaped open. Then she bit it shut, clearly unsure of how to answer that question.

"Don't bullshit a bullshitter, girl," David snipped. Then he smiled. "Spill. I want it all. No edits."

David Banford seemed like he meant it. He looked like a good listener. Ivy really wanted to tell him the story. She just wasn't sure how appropriate it was to blab it all to a stranger."

"Well, uh... there's this boy back home..."

"Name?"

"Tad."

"Tad? Like Christad or Voltad or Martad? Or like Thaddeus?"

"Thaddeus," Ivy answered.

"Okay. So we definitely know he's white. Keep going. Are you and Thaddeus doing it? Is it that kind of relationship?"

"Funny you should ask," Ivy said. And then she told David Banford the entire sordid story, leaving out only the part about the bruises on her butt after Gary spanked her.

"My goodness," David Banford said in an empathetic way. "Every generation manages to find their own hard road, and girlfriend, that sounds like you took a pretty rough path. C'mon, the boys are mowing the back, let's finish this conversation on the lanai."

David Banford's lanai was huge and had a small swimming pool inside the giant black birdcage mounted against the back of the house.

"I can tell that you haven't had sex with either of the Kisselhoff boys," David Banford said.

"I haven't," Ivy said. "How could you--"

"Oh please. You're an open book. I'd know. Are you going to? Have sex with them?"

Ivy cringed. "Well yaknow... I technically have a boyfriend."

"You're on vacation," David Banford swished a hand at her. "If a woman is on a vacation more than 300 miles from home, infidelity doesn't count. Especially middle school infidelity. You're absolved." He made a cross sign with his hand. "By the power vested in me by the eternal spirit of F. Ethel Gumm, I absolve you from the moral consequences of succumbing to the relentless charm of one or both of the Kisselhof boys."

Ivy laughed out loud.

The sound of the mowers stopped and Ivy looked to see both boys pushing their tools back toward the fence gate.

"Mr. David," Kyle said through the lanai screen. "I hate to be rude, but my brother and I are fierce-awful hot."

"You sure are," mumbled David Banford.

"Is there any way we could take a quick dip in your pool to cool down?"

"Certainly!" said David Banford. "I insist! Get in this lanai right now!"

"Are you sure?" asked Pietr. "We're really dirty. I don't want to mess up your pool."

"Pietr, you just get your buns in here right now. Nobody ever uses this pool and I have a filter and a marginally adorable pool boy for just such emergencies. C'mon and get in the pool."

"But we don't have swimsuits," Kyle said.

Looking at Kyle's sweaty knotted abs and the way his tan contrasted with his cutoff jean shorts, Ivy realized that she might just take David Banford's infidelity blessing to its limits. She was itching to know what it was like to be under that boy when he was taking his girl.

"You can improvise," winked David Banford.

Pietr and Kyle entered through the screen door. "Are you sure?" Kyle said.

"I paid for very high fences, anticipating just such a necessity."

"Oh. O-o-okay," said Kyle with a hint of uncertainty.

Ivy noticed that Kyle didn't exactly sound like Kyle. Kyle didn't stammer. "Fierce awful hot." That wasn't Kyle. That was something a bumpkin character would say in a movie.

Both boys stripped off their respective shorts and stood by the pool in their glorious altogether. Neither had been wearing underwear. Their swinging dongs were spiritless bellclappers, Pietr's obviously more suited to something on a Liberty Bell scale.

Ivy had seen both boys in their birthday suits before, but for the first time she noticed that Pietr's untanned stripe of skin under his shorts was stark white. Kyle, darker by nature with darker tanned skin, had a half-tanned butt. Not as brown as the rest of him, but Ivy could tell he was airing out his manhood to the sun god every now and then.

Ivy heard David Banford suck in a gasp. Then both boys dove into the pool.

"Oh man," Kyle said, breaking the surface, spitting his lips clear of chlorinated water. "That is so good."

The brothers frolicked.

David Banford poked Ivy in the arm and she snapped out of a trance. "Not that I blame you for staring, honey, but it's somewhat more polite to do so with your mouth closed."

"Sorry," said Ivy.

"Dont apologize to me." David Banford fluttered his sculpted eyebrows.

Both boys kicked under water. David Banford used the opportunity to whisper to Ivy. "By the way, that's a little script we play out. They say the same thing every time they come. At first I thought it was kind of peculiar, but now I love the ritual."

The brothers launched themselves out of the pool, pulling themselves over the far edge in a gratuitous splay of gluteus muscles. David Banford whimpered.

"Thanks for that, David," Kyle said. The boys pulled their dirty shorts over their gleaming sculptures. They had only been in the pool for less than three minutes.

"Always happy to help a pilgrim in distress," David Banford said.

"Ivy, we've got one more yard today," Pietr said. "We have to roll."

"Okay. Nice to meet you David," Ivy smiled.

"Delighted," David Banford nodded.

"Go ahead," Kyle sighed, downshifting at a yellow signal. "I know you want to ask."

Ivy looked confused. "What?"

"Say it. Spit it out."

Ivy shrugged. "Mr. Banford? Hey, I'm cool. I got no problems with gay guys. He was nice."

"Wait," said Pietr slowly. "You think he might be... gay?"

"Okay," Kyle muttered. "You had your--"

"What the hell was THAT!!!" Ivy shouted as her curiosity dam finally burst. "Swimming naked?"

The boys smiled. "He tips us like four times what other people pay for just the yard service," Kyle explained. "He's essentially five payments for the work of one yard. He knows we're not homosexual, but we kind of play a thing and he plays along and everybody's happy. He never moves on us. David's a good guy."

"He's lonely," Ivy said. "You can tell."

Pietr shrugged. "He's rich and he's cool." After a pause: "And his younger brother is the Associate Dean of Admissions at MIT. So..."

Ivy turned this over in her head. "You guys want to go to MIT?"

"Pietr does," Kyle said.

"Oh," said Ivy. Then: "OH! Yeah. Okay. I get it now." Then: "Isn't that like a really expensive college?"

Pietr slumped a little. "Yeeeaaaah," he moaned sadly.

Ivy turned this over in her head. Kelly Dawn was not rich, but she lived in a really nice house. The boys were obviously some kind of industry that propped up her lifestyle. But surely there was a day in the Kelly Dawn's future where a not-rich woman was going to have two boys going to college at the same time, and the Brothers Kisselhoff were not going to slum it at the local junior college. No wonder they were working so gosh darn hard.

Ghost of Poke: "So they own a lawnmower. I'm not impressed."

Mind of Ivy: "Shut up, Poke."

"Hey," said Kyle, "speaking of playing roles. Our last stop today is Doctor Finch. He's quite a character. If he says anything to you, look at Pietr first before you answer. Pee will tip you off on what to say."

"I don't understand," Ivy said.

"Too late," Pietr said. "We're here."

The truck stopped at a big house on a corner lot. The grass looked like a golf course. The edging along the sidewalk made a perfect right angle box frame. Ivy looked around, confused.

"This place?" she pointed. "Somebody already mowed it."

"Nope," said Kyle, sliding out of the truck. "But a couple somebodys are about to mow it twice."

"Hey there you two!" A severe looking old man with a stark, white, military high-and-tight haircut was advancing across the lawn, waving his fist. "Hold up! Don't you start those mowers yet!"

Ivy flinched. The man was already pissed off and Kyle hadn't even lifted his mower out of the bed of the truck.

"Let me see the wheels!"

"We just got here, Doc," Pietr said patiently. "We haven't had the chance to clean them yet."

"I told you to clean them before you got here," the old man spat. "I don't want that shit in my street. You never clean up after yourselves like you're supposed to!"

"I'll clean it up," said Pietr.

"Humph!" scowled Dr. Finch. That's when he noticed Ivy in the truck. "Who are you?" he half-shouted at Ivy.

Ivy jumped. She tried to smile. "I'm Ivy. I'm just visiting."

"Where's the other one?" the man asked.

"Zooey?" Ivy asked. "She's.... Not here."

"Obviously!" spat the man.

"Zooey said to tell you that she says hello," Ivy smiled.

"She's a whore!" shouted the man. "And if you're hanging out with these two whoremongers, that means you're probably a whore too!"

Ivy felt the blood rush into her ears.

"Now lift those goddamn mowers up," the man growled at Kyle. "I'm going to measure the blade height my goddamn self this time, since you two dumbasses can't figure it out." The man pulled a ruler out of his back pocket.

"We've got a ruler in the glove compartment, Doctor Finch," Pietr said.

"Must be one of those fucking metric rulers the frog faggots use, because it never seems to get the gap right."

Ivy had never wanted to hit another human being in the face with a shovel before. The thought had never crossed her mind. But there it was: Doctor Finch. Face. Shovel. Brang!

The brothers were unflappable. They didn't react to the hostility.

"Look at that!" shouted the old man. "When was the last time you sharpened these blades?"

"This morning," Kyle said.

"Bullshit!" the man said. "Just look at this dull-- Ohahgoddamitshit!"

"Oh gosh," Pietr said. "You're bleeding. We've got a first aid kit behind the seat."

"I don't need your shitty little plastic stethoscope and candy pills," the man growled, clutching his finger. "I'm a fucking doctor. I've got everything I need. Okay it looks like the deck is set right. Get to mowing. I don't have all goddamn day to sit around and babysit you morons. Let's go."

"Yes, Doctor Finch." Kyle and Pietr said it simultaneously.

The mowers roared to life while Dr. Finch walked back in the house clutching his dripping crimson finger. Kyle passed the cab of the truck and smiled at Ivy as he waggled his eyebrows again. How could a boy be so frickin' cool? Ivy saw the mowers moving over the grass, but if you put a gun to her head she could not begin to tell you where the grass had been mowed and where it had not. It looked unchanged.

Twenty minutes later the mowers stopped and Dr. Finch wobbled back out with his index finger cocooned in a wrap of white gauze. He walked all over his lawn, leaning over to stick his ruler down at various spots in the lawn and then rise shaking his head in disgust. "Too long!" he shouted. "Too long! Jesus, why can't you idiots ever get this fucking right? Just fucking once. Oh for fuck's sake, this is three-eighths off over here. Did you even bother to mow this part or am I just another sucker for you two scheisters to screw over? Huh?"

"I mowed it, Doctor Finch," Pietr said patiently.

"The fuck you can tell it. I bet your dumb little cum cup in the car can even see that you missed this whole section near the easement. That's how fucking obvious it is."

"Cum cup?" muttered Ivy. "Did he just call me a cum cup?"

"You!" the old man pointed at Ivy. "Shake your ass on over here, princess. Now!"

Ivy froze. Pieter was standing just behind the old man and made a "C'mon!" wheeling motion with his hand. Ivy reluctantly slid out of the truck. Her face was flushed with repressed anger.

"C'mon! Shake it!" shouted the old man.

Ivy seethed through her nose and willed herself to walk faster.

"Does this look like it's been mowed to you?" asked Doctor Finch.

"I saw them mow it. I saw Pietr mow that section," said Ivy with a quiver of defiance in her voice. She didn't like conflict and this old bastard was a tsunami of combative attitude.

"Well does it look too long to you, princess? Does it? I assume you aren't blind even if your standards are so low as to keep company with these two dumb apes."

Ivy's mouth gaped with indignation.

Pietr frantically motioned to get Ivy's attention. Then he pulled his thumb and forefinger apart a quarter inch and mouthed "Too long" over and over.

"Er..." stammered Ivy. "It's too long."

Pietr's eyes went large and he frantically shook his almost pinched fingers.

"Just a little!" Ivy shouted. "It's just a tiny little bit too long!"

Pietr's shoulders relaxed and he nodded rapidly.

"See?" said the old man with a self-satisfied smirk. "Your little twanging redneck pet twat even knows it's too long."

"Doctor Finch," said Kyle. "As you know, if we lower the deck even one notch, you'll have a heart attack and say that we scalped your lawn and killed it. We've been through this before."

"If you had some goddamn decent gear, you could get it right. These candyass yard sale Walmart rejects that you're pushing across my lawn aren't cutting it, pun in-tended! I'm going to have to get some real professionals in here to get this right. You're both fired! I mean it this time. Get the fuck off my lawn!"

Kyle didn't move. He scratched his chin methodically. "Yaknow, Doctor Finch," he said slowly, "Pietr had an idea. We kind of kicked this around after last time. Can we show you something?"

The old man said nothing but followed the boys to the truck. Pietr pulled a box out of the bed of the truck and opened it. He lifted out something that looked like big, thick rubber bands.

"So we put these bands around the wheels," Pietr said. "They add exactly one quarter inch to the deck height. And then we drop the decks one notch. That should make the half-way compromise cutting height that you're after. Can we try that? Can you please give us one more try?"

The doctor was clearly intrigued, but did not want to show it. "I guess that might actually work," he said. "But if you fuck up my lawn I'm not paying you dick, you hear me?"

"Of course," said Pietr. "We only want your satisfaction."

"Stick your customer service satisfaction whoo-hah up your keister, boy. Get it fucking right or get gone."

Pietr and Kyle both muscled the thick rubber sleeves over the wheels of their mowers, changed the height settings, measured, and methodically set about remowing the lawn. Both boys had a plastic ruler in their back pockets and kept stopping to measure the grass height.

A half hour later Ivy became aware of the lateness of the day. The sun was on the wane.

The boys crossed their arms while Doctor Finch took his turn measuring the grass. He seemed disappointed that he could not find fault.

"What. A freaking. Butthole!" Ivy shouted as soon as the truck had rolled out of earshot of Dr. Finch.

Pietr was driving. "Nah, he's okay."

"Okay?" Ivy shouted with offense. "How dare he call me a... a..."

"Whore." Pietr grinned and concentrated on the road.

"Cum cup." Kyle grinned and looked out his window.

"EW!!! That... That..." Ivy struggled for an appropriate insult.

"Insufferable crusty fartstain?" Kyle offered.

"Yes!"

"Decrepit fucktard fountain of negativity?" Pietr countered.

"That too!"

Kyle laughed. "Naw. Really. He's just a force of personality. He's was military surgeon. Desert Storm through Cobra's Anger. Anybody who wore the stripes is okay by me. Doc just doesn't have a lot of time for other people's shortcomings."

"I would never have showed up there a second time," Ivy said. "There's no way I would put up with anyone talking to me like that!"

Both boys shook their head in the negative.

"Are you kidding?" Kyle said. "Nine of our current customers are referrals from the Doc. He's kind of our best customer. You know how the thing with David Banford was an act? Well, Doc Finch's negativity is kind of his act. It's not really personal."

"And Doc is going through a thing," Pietr said softly. "He and his missus finally retired to civilian life, got their little dream house they'd saved up for their whole life, and then she up-and-died three years later. How long ago was that, Boss? Bout a year ago?"

"October," said Kyle. "Nine months."

"Yeah," Pietr said. "So if he's angry and he wants to yell at us, that's okay with me. I can take it."

"I can take it too," said Kyle.

Ivy stewed and tried to see the situation from the boy's perspective.

Pietr did a passable impersonation of Marlon Brando in The Godfather, croaking "It's not personal, Sonny. It's strictly business."

"Wait a minute," said Ivy. "You knew he wasn't going to be happy with your mow job. Why didn't you just put those things on the wheels the first time? Why didn't you save yourself from doing it twice?"

Both boys turned to look down their nose at Ivy, as if she had just farted.

"What?" asked Ivy.

Kyle turned back to the road. "Doc decided we were going to mow his grass wrong about the same time he poured his first cup of coffee this morning."

"If we'd done it quote-endquote right the first time," Pietr made airquotes with his finger, "we couldn't have made the adjustment when we mowed it the second time."

"Huh," Ivy chewed on this. "Yaknow, there are a lot of dead spouses and mothers in your mowing orbit."

"Welcome to Florida..." Kyle said.

"God's waiting room," Pietr finished.

"People don't realize when they are moving here to live," Kyle said, "that also means they're coming here to die."

"I'm hungry," Ivy said. "You two must be starving."

"I'll cook you something nice and healthy," Kyle said, "after we drop Pee off at football practice."

"Football practice!" Ivy was shocked. "Now? After you worked your butt off all day? This late in the afternoon? In the summer?"

Pietr nodded. "Two-a-days. They started last week."

"Two?" Ivy exclaimed. "When is your second practice? Midnight?"

"It was this morning," Kyle said. "Before you woke up."

"Holy crap! You did all that work and you have two football practices?"

Pietr shrugged. "Gotta have a backup plan in case MIT falls through."

"You want to be a professional football player?" It made sense to Ivy, given Pietr's size.

Both boys laughed. "No," said Pietr. "Just a scholarship would be nice."

"Oh," said Ivy. "Gosh, you two have this planned out, don't you? What's your plan, Kyle? What are you going to be?"

Kyle -- with complete deadpan -- turned to Ivy. "Porn star."

The truck had traveled another 100 yards in complete silence when Pietr's laugh started as a squeak, bubbling through his lips and morphing into a hard convulsion that shook the truck on its tires. Kyle broke and started laughing just as hard.

Ivy didn't laugh. She had thought Kyle was serious.

"What is this crust on the salmon?" Ivy asked.

"Crushed pistachio," Kyle answered.

They were eating at the table. With plates. It was almost romantic. This was strange to Ivy who could not remember the last time she ate at home not in front of a television. Heck, half the time her flatware was the plastic kind that came in the bottom of a Taco Time bag. When Beth O'Brien cooked, it was pasta in red sauce and garlic bread out of the freezer case, served on Chinettes while they watched either The Bachelorette or My Renovation Nightmare.

"It's incredible," Ivy said. She meant it. "So what are we doing tonight? Just hanging?"

Kyle dabbed the corner of his mouth with a napkin and swallowed. Not a paper towel. He had set out cloth napkins. Watching Kyle set the table for the two of them is when her remaining question marks had turned into exclamation marks. She was going to have sex with Kyle tonight. If he didn't start it, she would. Her green light was polished and the switch tested repeatedly. That boy was going inside her tonight, even if she had to mount him cowgirl.

"Well, after supper I've got my Russian lessons."

"Russian lessons?"

"Yeah. It's Pietr's thing, but I'm trying to keep up with him. I'm nowhere near as fluent as he is."

"Like online lessons?"

Kyle nodded. "Rosetta Stone and Pimsleur. We've mostly finished those and we're trying to mix in reading simple novels in Russian now. We watch a lot of Russian YouTube. Our house is probably under CIA surveillance." He winked.

"Wow."

"Just a thing," Kyle shrugged. "Pietr thinks it'll be handy for college admissions. He's probably right. Mostly it's just fun. Anyway, Pietr will be home after that and he's going to hang with you while I go out."

"Where you going?"

"Remember those two girls in the BMW today?"

Ivy flashed back. "Beck Pyrtle."

Kyle looked up at Ivy, startled. "How did you-- Oh that's right. You were on the blower with Zoe when they pulled up. So you told her I was talking to Beck Pyrtle?"

Ivy cringed. "Kind of?"

Kyle nodded and smirked. "Good."

"Zoe said you're not into Beck Pyrtle."

"I'm not."

"Then why are you going to a party with her?"

"What?" Kyle stabbed the last brussels sprout and forked it in his mouth. "Who said I was going to a party?"

"You just did."

"No, I said Becca Pyrtle was going to a party." Kyle stood and cleared his dishes from the table. "And if Becca Pyrtle is at a party, that means Becca Pyrtle's incredibly smoking hot single mom is home alone." Kyle winked.

Ivy choked on her salmon.

"Hey Pietr," Ivy said between licks of her Dairy Queen cone. "Was Kyle serious about having sex with Beck Pyrtle's mother?"

They were parked looking out at a small lake, reflecting the moon. There was still some mauvey-purplish afterglow in the western horizon where the sunset persisted. Pietr had bought the ice cream for Ivy (but nothing for himself) after making Ivy swear she wouldn't tell Kyle. After Pietr's dinner and shower, he had redressed kind of casual, but still nice. His colorful shirt was ironed, as were his cargo shorts. He didn't look a bit like any boy Ivy had ever seen.

"Is that what he said he was doing?" Pietr asked.

"Don't pretend you don't know what he's up to."

"I'm not pretending anything," Pietr said. "I was just asking what he said to you."

"So is he? Screwing somebody's mom?"

"You really think a fifteen year old dude can lay pipe to a middle age woman?" Pietr smiled.

Ivy didn't flinch. "Kyle? Yes. I absolutely believe Kyle can seduce somebody's mom. As a matter of fact, I'm not entirely certain he hasn't screwed my mom, now that I think about the way she acted around him when we got here."

Pietr smiled.

"No seriously," Ivy pressed.

"Kyle's business is Kyle's business." Pietr said it without edge or malice.

"Oh crap," Ivy said. "So it's true. Wow. Just... Wow."

"Hey," said Pietr, almost a whisper, "I'm not telling you how to live your life or anything. I'm not mansplaining. I just... yaknow... I just know Kyle."

"Of course."

"It's not a good idea to get possessive of him. It doesn't turn out well."

Ivy laughed. "Oh I totally get that. No problem there. I'm not like thinking he's boyfriend material or anything," Ivy lied like a rug. "Not picking out kids' names, I promise you. Ha! Ha!" Ivy was leaning toward "J" names to fill the gap between I-Ivy and K-Kyle. Jillian or Jeremiah.

"Okay."

Ivy watched Pietr's face slide into sadness and realized she was screwing up again. "Pietr, do you really like me? Or was that a joke."

"You're awesome."

"Oh come on. You know what I mean." The soft serve ice cream was melting fast in the heat and Ivy's tongue flashed vigorously to keep the drips from cresting the ridge of the cake cone.

Pietr blinked. "Actually, I meant it. You're awesome."

"That's lame. What does that even mean? 'Awesome?' You don't even really know me."

Pietr sighed, his voice barely audible "I dunno. Everybody has an archetype, yaknow?"

"What does that word mean?"

"Archetype? Uh... It just means everybody's looking for a specific thing in a girlfriend. Or boyfriend. Like red hair. I've got a buddy on the football team who says that life is too short to date anything but redheads. He likes the freckles and the pink lips and the little ears. That's his archetype. He won't date anything else but gingers who look like they were just yanked out of a Celtic dance troupe."

"Okay. I get it. I get that."

Pietr shrugged again. "And, you know. You're my archetype.

"Blonde."

"No, no, not the blonde part. It's your... subtleties. You're lithe. You're elegant. You have a grace about your movements, like you're dancing even when you're walking. You've got those huge, inquisitive eyes."

This was not what Ivy was expecting. The weight of Pietr's honesty began to compress the air out of Ivy's lungs. Not is a good way.

"Of course, your accent is freakin' adorable," Pietr continued, "but it's mostly your softness. Your optimism. The way you don't really cuss unless you're super angry. You're not bitter. Not yet. Your smile is like... Birthday cake. Just goddamn ebullience, your smile. I haven't met it's equal."

Ivy became aware of the blood pulsing through her earlobes.

"And that way you sit?" Pietr smiled. "With your toes pointed down and together and heels out, your knees touching? Making that diamond shape in your lower leg? Like short girls who are used to their feet not touching the floor sit? Super cute."

Ivy opened her mouth because she wanted to say something... Anything that would make Pietr's heartfelt honesty stop. She could not form a word in time.

"You don't remember this, but when we were little and we were up at your house after my dad died? You were into ribbon dancing. Remember that?"

Ivy nodded. "I miss that house," she thought wistfully. Rhythmic gymnastics had just been introduced as a new sport at the Olympics and Ivy had been obsessed with the visuals of it as a little girl. Before her dad -- "Don't go there, Ivy." Her dad had bought her a ribbon baton at a toy store after the suffering the final toy tantrum of Ivy's childhood. There were a long string of months where that ribbon baton did not leave her hand.

"Those were really shitty days," Pietr continued. "But I've never forgot you dancing through the back yard with that fucking ribbon stick. You were so... I dunno. Beautiful doesn't really do it justice. You were the personification of joy. Somewhere in all the heartache, that moment of joy that I saw on your face and in your dance reminded me that life was going to keep going on around me. Nobody cared that things sucked for us. We were going to have to do it for ourselves, somehow, Kyle and me. Your wrist was so small and nimble and when it moved it was this elegant, little-bitty, perfect concentration of dance. But that tiny movement rippled into those giant blue swirls of ribbon curling around you, like a forcefield. And then rippling behind you as you ran, like you were this agent of optimism cutting through a bullshit world, leaving big blue amplitudes of positivity in your wake."

The truck lapsed into a long silence. Ivy didn't move and was oblivious to the ice cream trickling down her wrist.

Pietr stared out his side window. "I barely remember a word anybody said at my dad's funeral. It's a blur. An echo of an echo. I can't even remember if it was sunny of if it was raining that day. But I remember that ribbon. And I remember the girl."

Stunned, Ivy reached out and touched Pietr's leg. She had no words worth saying.

Pietr looked down at the pressure and a tiny, wistful hook formed at the corner of his mouth. He looked Ivy in the eyes.

"Hey, I know you're into Kyle. But can I ask you a small favor? Would you make out with me, Ivy? No strings? Just make out with me for a little while?"

What else was Ivy going to say at that point? If he had asked her to perform a mob hit on the head of the Gambino crime syndicate, Ivy would have nodded.

She nodded.

Neither boy nor girl said a word on the drive back to the house. This magnified Ivy's nervousness. Her tense right knee bounced involuntarily.

Pietr fingered the security code into the door lock. Once again Ivy marveled at the size of his hands; but this time the size differential between she and Pietr became yet another reason to worry. Another reason to be nervous. Pietr held the door open for Ivy. She stepped into the foyer, feeling her pulse in her neck. She was definitely about to do Tad wrong and she knew it. She volunteered for it... Kind of. Was being guilted into a makesesh the same as agreeing to cheating? What if Pietr wanted a lot more than kissing? Ivy could barely manage Tad when he got spun up and horny. There was no chance she was going to be able to even slow Big Pietr down, if he wanted something.

Misery looked up at the kids. She woofed a quiet question at Pietr. "Really? Her?"

"So, uh..." Ivy said. "How does this work? Where do you want to do this? Like... On the couch? Or on a bed? Or..."

Pietr slid his big mitts under Ivy's armpits and lifted her feet off the tile, straight up and into him; Straight into a kiss, standing in the foyer.

Tad had tried this once. Tad's face went red and heavy breaths of exertion hissed through his nose and Tad kind of quivered trying to keep Ivy aloft. He had stumbled forward to pin her against her closet door to relieve some of the physics from his strained back and legs. Still, Ivy thought the effort was cute and romantic.

If Pietr was exerting any effort at all, Ivy could not tell it. His kiss was gentle and patient. Light, but lippy. Supple but not a washing machine of saliva, like Tad. Pietr repositioned his hands under Ivy's bottom and gently alternated the pressure of his fingers in a light, rolling squeeze.

Ivy's heels instinctively hooked around the back of Pietr's knees, balancing the lever of their articulated embrace. Pietr was an exceptional kisser, slow and lippy, not forcing his tongue at all; obviously waiting on Ivy to open her mouth. Which she did.

Pietr's fiercely hot tongue was as patient and measured as the rest of his kiss, playfully tapping and circling back on however much French that Ivy wanted to push forth. The boy's strength began to work on Ivy. The feeling of floating effortlessly was pretty damn sexy. His fingertips massaging her butt felt great too, the vibrations adding to the sensation that she was floating of her own feminine effervescence, not straining Pietr's arms at all.

Ivy heard the old familiar horny nose hiss-breath that she recognized from when Tad was shifting into Horny Mode. Then she realized the sound had come from her. Her lady parts were starting to tingle. Ivy's crotch was pressed into the top of Pietr's khakis, too high above his junk for decent grinding. She longed to be a bit lower, kissing up into Pietr's mouth and having that giant rock in his shorts to work against her naughty bits. But Pietr was in complete control and he wasn't in a rush to dry hump. The anticipation of "more" warmed Ivy's butt, and Pietr's firm grip on her bottom was quickly kneading her into a lava monster of her own.

Pietr broke the kiss and looked a confused Ivy deep in her eyes for a long moment.

"What?" Ivy whispered.

"Shhhhh," Pietr whispered back. He pushed his cheek against Ivy's cheek. It felt weird. Ivy realized Pietr had stubble. Tad didn't have stubble. Ivy hadn't felt a stubbly muzzle rub on her cheek since her father. Crazy how that lovely sensation was hiding dormant in her girl DNA, and set free a stampede of hormones once Pietr rekindled the tactile memory. She drew the steam of Pietr's skin deep in her sinuses, seeing if her father's scent was there too, but Pietr wasn't wearing cologne tonight. He smelled like soap. Pietr gently opened and closed his jaw, the sandy friction grinding away at Ivy's defenses. He pushed his mouth toward Ivy's ear, keeping the warmth of their cheeks pressed together. His hot breath wrapped around Ivy's earlobe and she turned into a hot candle, melting into Pietr's chest. Her hand traced up the back of the boy's thick neck to the brushline of Pietr's short shorn hair. Ivy's fingertips pulled across the grain of it; blended satin and wire, like the brindle coat on Poke's Corgi, Benson. Her free hand slid around Pietr's torso and her digits stretched to find the back bumper of Pietr's trapezius muscle before she ran out of arm.

The overwhelming realization of her smallness slithering against the granite midsection of the powerful boy unwound her. She was needy, and she felt it. There. Down there. In her pussy. It wasn't a vagina any more. It was naughty. It was needy. It was defenseless. It was aching for something more than it was getting. Her folded secret was submissive and obedient to the male power cradling her body. It was a pussy. She needed attention on her pussy or her skin was going to burst into flames of frustration, starting at the sensitive insides of her knees.

"You're really tense." Pietr whispered.

"Am I? Sorry."

Pietr's fingers stopped moving. Pietr's warm breath peeled away from her ear. Pietr's slow sway halted and he stood stock still.

Pietr faced Ivy, nose to nose, with an expression of concern.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Pietr's normal baritone voice rumbled through his chest and into Ivy where their breastbones pressed together.

"I'm fine," Ivy said. Her heart was beating so fast she felt flushed and dizzy.

"You sure?"

"Ivy nodded."

"No," Pietr squinted. "Something's up. What? Boyfriend?"

Ivy shook her head in the negative. A lie. The infidelity was bothering her a little. Moreso because she knew Pietr wasn't her archetype. Or was he? He sure knew how to kiss. And hold a girl.

"Kyle?" Pietr asked.

Ivy hesitated only for a moment to consider the question. It was a moment too long.

"Okay," Pietr sighed. He lowered Ivy back to the tile.

"No, Pietr," Ivy started.

"It's cool," Pietr said, turning away with an expression of forlorn patience. "Thanks though. I've wanted to kiss you forever. And now I have. Thanks Ivy."

"Pietr," Ivy started again.

Pietr swung back and clutched over the top of Ivy's shoulders, hugging her firmly and for a long time. It startled Ivy. It was like being embraced by a falling tree. Pietr mumbled softly into her hair. "My home was in the shadow; His lay in the sun. I longed in vain, but what he asked for straightway was done. Once I staked all my heart's treasure. We played and he won."

"Is that a poem?" Ivy mumbled into Pietr's chest. "It sounds like a poem."

Pietr released Ivy. "You know how to work the television remote, right? I'm kind of exhausted. I've got to get up really early. I'm going to hit the sack."

Ivy's mouth opened and closed, frustrated with trying to find the words to un-break whatever it was that she had just broken by not answering Pietr's question fast enough. Her pussy was still twitching with wet need and the boy who wanted to do something about it was walking away.

"Pietr please don't be mad at me!"

Pietr lifted his palms but kept walking backward toward the stairs, "It's totally cool, Ivy. Seriously. Thanks again. It was kind of a fantasy for me and I appreciate you playing along. But I am really exhausted."

Ivy nodded. "After two football practices and mowing eleven yards twelve times, I can imagine."

"Night." Pietr was gone up the stairs, three at a time.

Ivy rubbed her face. "Dang it!"

Ivy woke up from an unplanned nod-off and the television was filled with Jimmy Kimmel. He was behind the desk, so it was already past the monologue. It was late. She instinctively reached for her non-existent phone to see what time it was. She looked over the couch and into the kitchen. She squinted until she could see the clock on the back of the stove. It was 11:41. Kyle could not be home yet, or she would have heard him come in. She listened to the house and only heard dehumidified air whistling through the vents.

Ivy sat up and rubbed her eyes. Misery was nowhere to be found.

She turned off the television, walked to the guest bathroom and squatted a forever-long pee.

When she tapped herself clean with a fold of toilet tissue, her pussy reminded her that she was still horny from her makesesh with Pietr.

Ivy sat back down on the couch and used the remote to navigate back to the Smart App on the TV that Kyle had used to spy on Pietr and Zooey. When she saw the PLEX logo she recognized it. There were some movies displayed on the home screen that were still in theaters. They were all girly rom-coms. Stuff that Kelly Dawn would be interested in. Stuff that Ivy was interested in seeing. Aside from the ten minutes she and Kyle watched the science documentary before switching to Zooey's live sex show, Ivy hadn't witnessed either of the brothers watch television at all.

Ivy saw the onscreen button for "Restriction" and pressed it. It asked her for a four digit code. She flashed back to seeing Kyle's thumb press the 4 button repeatedly. She tried that code.

And there was Pietr in the moonlight. His big bare chest reflecting harsh shades of indigo and white. His face was slack, his lips barely parted. Breathing slowly. Ivy couldn't tell if he was naked below where the topsheet bisected his form, but it kind of looked like that.

Ivy took a deep breath.

It wouldn't kill her to give Pietr a chance. She wasn't sure how his big cock was going to possibly fit inside her, but she was going to give it the old middle-school try. She was horny as a billygoat and if Kyle was out screwing a grown woman somewhere, that meant Ivy's plans to seduce Kyle were rapidly circling the toilet. She needed boy attention in the worst way, worse than she could remember. She could go rub her bean or she could go slide in the sheets next to Pietr, let him live out his crush, and hopefully get her over in the process. Or maybe the hard lust of a boy so big would break her in half. It was a risk she was willing to take.

She turned off the television and the lights. She walked up the stairs. She stood in front of Pietr's door with her fingers draped over the handle. She took a deep breath and noticed her heart was pounding out of her chest again.

She pushed the levered door knob downward.

Locked. Nothing. She pushed again in disbelief. Nope, it was definitely locked.

Ivy couldn't believe it. What now? Knock? No.

Instead she flipped on the hallway light and explored the second floor of the Kisselhoff house for the first time. Kyle's door was open. Half way down the hallway was an open area with some nice chairs and bookshelves. The big atrium window in the study nook gave the curb view of the house what little distinguishable personality it had from all the other beige cinderblock bunkers surrounding it. The nook was probably a delightful place to study when bathed in sunlight. Across the hall from the nook: a big bathroom filled with guy stuff. Shaving cream. Ear swabs. A beard trimmer that explained their short, trimmed pubic hair. Cologne.

Ivy sprayed the Abercrombie Fierce on her left wrist. Yep. That was Kyle. She sprayed the Channel Blue on her right wrist. Indeed, Pietr. Fierce and Blue. How apropos.

Ivy turned out the light, returned to the hallway, and finished walking its length as she took turns smelling each wrist, trying to decide which scent she liked more, and getting very very horny doing so.

The hallway ended in a locked door, which Ivy knew had to be Kelly Dawn's room. Odd that it was locked, but different families had different dynamics.

Ivy wandered back into Kyle's room and walked around, looking at his insanely organized desk and the neat arrangement of his modest tech and Russian books. She noticed a thin guitar case behind a sofa chair. Kyle played? She made a mental note to ask him about that. Interesting.

Misery shook her head and jingled her collar. Ivy jumped and turned. Misery stood in Kyle's doorway and looked at Ivy suspiciously.

"I'm just looking," Ivy whispered. "I'm not snooping."

Misery narrowed her eyes at Ivy as if to communicate that the dog did not believe her. The dog's head snapped in the direction of the stairway. Misery quickly took off and Ivy heard her rumble down the stairs. Ivy knew exactly what that meant. She flipped off the light and ripped off her clothes. "Every stitch." She jumped between Kyle's sheets and rolled on her side as she heard the front door open. Again, her heart was beating. She held her breath and listened. She heard his footsteps on the stairs.

The room light flipped on. "Whoopsie!" Kyle said.

Ivy turned over and looked at him, yawning and pretending that she had just been asleep. "Welcome home, Lothario. Can you keep it down? People trying to sleep here."

"Sorry 'bout that, Cuteness." Kyle did not moderate his voice at all, but turned to close his door instead. "I kind of thought you'd be bunking with Pee tonight."

"I tried," Ivy croaked. "But his door was locked."

Kyle's forehead wrinkled. "Really? That's odd. He only usually does that when he's mad. You two have a dustup or something?"

"No."

"Did you shoot him down? Did he finally get up the courage to move on you and you shot him down."

Ivy felt herself getting defensive. "No... I... I didn't... He... That's not... He didn't give me a chance, Kyle. We were kissing one moment and the next minute he's all Eeyore, running up the stairs to bed."

Kyle pursed his mouth and moved it back and forth as if he wasn't buying Ivy's story. "Hmmmm. Well you two crazy kids will work it out or you won't. His loss. You're in my bed so you're mine tonight." He smiled at Ivy.

"Oh you think," Ivy said, trying to sound assertive.

"Little Miss, I don't have a goddamn doubt."

Jesus, that boy is all swagger, Ivy thought. Her pussy warmed. Her nipples pushed against the sheet and she pretended to stretch just so the topsheet would drop enough to expose her interested breasts to Kyle.

"I'm going to grab a quick shower then," Kyle said, pulling off his shirt and unbuttoning his pants.

"You don't have to," Ivy said. "Just come to bed. I'm tired."

"I'm covered in somebody else's pussy," Kyle said plainly. "You want me to take shower."

Ivy flinched. That was a very unromantic thing to say. The whole time she heard Kyle in the shower she tried to get that sentence out of her head but couldn't. Covered in somebody else's pussy. Covered in somebody else's mother's pussy. Sheesh. What a crass thing to say. And what did that have to do with her? Was he assuming she was up for sex?

Isn't that the plan?

Well, yeah, it was the plan, but... Still. That was quite presumptuous of him.

Kyle re-entered the room tapping his neck with a towel and an engorged erection.

Ivy's eyes locked on it. "S'matter?" She lifted her chin at the boner approaching her. "Mrs. Pyrtle didn't take care of business?"

Kyle flipped off the lights. "A true businessman doesn't turn away opportunity," he said. "And you're looking like some sweet untapped venture capital, my dear."

"Yeah?" Ivy said. She had no idea what Kyle was saying, but she wasn't going to let him know that.

Kyle climbed across the top of the bed and pulled the remaining topsheet off Ivy. His hand tested her pussy to ensure she was not wearing panties.

"My pussy lips are already falling out," Kyle said. "Somebody has been thinking about this."

"Your pussy?"

"You heard me, girl." Kyle smothered Ivy in a forceful kiss, his open mouth wasting no time pushing into Ivy's tongue. His heavy hand was all over her breasts, squeezing and pinching and pulling and milking.

Ivy's temperature spiked. Kyle was not into the slow and tender. Kyle was into the now and the bossy. Ivy kind of liked that. Ivy's pussy loved it.

Kyle's knee pushed between Ivy's legs, parting them. Ivy found herself rolling with it, forcing her needy groin into Kyle's hairy thigh. Ivy whimpered. Kyle reached behind her head, grabbed the mane of her hair, and yanked it down her back, forcing her chin to the ceiling. It didn't hurt.

Kyle's tongue landed underneath her chin and began a slow, unbroken wet zig zag down her neck and decolletage. Unsurprising, the lick broke at her nipple as Kyle latched on and gave her pink tips a little lesson on who they belonged to. Kyle sucked her tits in alternating escalating intensities, making sure her sensitive globes knew who was boss. It was kind of like the bossy way Tad tried to be, but never really pulled off. Kyle was pulling it off.

Ivy's hands were all over Kyle's shoulders and the back of his neck. He was warm and firm and wonderful.

Kyle's fingers slipped back in Ivy's wet folds and she groaned so loud that she didn't recognize her own voice.

His fingertips were circling her button, making her coo and squirm. Her vocalizations were too loud for the time-of-night, but she didn't care. His rubbing dipped down to her opening and tested it. Ivy's butt began grinding against the bed, involuntarily. If Kyle stopped touching her, even for a second, she was going to lose her everlovin' mind. More. More. More. She needed more of exactly what Kyle was doing.

Kyle probed deeper in her fuckpocket and Ivy wasn't prepared for it. She yipped.

"Take it," Kyle growled.

Ivy nodded, but it hadn't been a question and she wasn't sure if Kyle even saw her greenlight flashing in the dark.

His finger filled her and then tipped upward, catching nerves she only partially understood that she possessed. Her inside girlspot had never had that kind of workout before and Ivy's back arched at the sensation of her thighs and butthole lighting up with pleasure powering through them.

"Yes. Yes. Yes," Ivy whispered. Begged. "Please."

It couldn't get any better.

Kyle pushed his lips against her ear. "You want it, girl?"

Ivy nodded rapidly.

"I can't hear you, bitch," Kyle growled.

The word caught Ivy off guard, but the rough namecalling didn't abate the need in her pussy one bit.

"Yes," huffed Ivy. Kyle's fingers had pulled out of her pussy and were dancing around her front-button, forcing her to involuntarily come up on her heels and harder into Kyle's touch. She could really smell his skin now. His breath on her. "Fuck me. Please fuck me."

And there it was. She had become the porn trope that she laughed at. As long as Kyle's fingers didn't stop dancing on her pussy she'd say any damn thing he wanted to hear.

Kyle came to his knees and gave Ivy one last circle of her clit. But instead of mounting her he stepped off beside the bed and spun Ivy so her face was up against his erection.

"Get busy," Kyle said.

Ivy froze.

"Suck," Kyle insisted. "I've never fucked a girl who didn't earn it with her mouth first, and that's not going to change tonight."

Ivy just looked at the cock twitching in front of her face.

"Ivy?" Kyle asked. "Get to work bitch. It's not going to suck itself."

Ivy willed her hand out. It closed around the hot base of Kyle's hard member and pulled it down. It was glistening at the tip with precome. Ivy took a deep breath and leaned out to kiss it. It was so hot on her lips it almost burned. A little glycerine string connected her top lip to the tip of Kyle's cock. She kissed again. She couldn't get over the size of it. It wasn't as big as Pietr's giant dick, but it was still formidable. She wasn't sure it was going to fit in her mouth.

She tried to remember everything Poke had told her about giving head. Don't bite. Lick a lot and look the boy in the eye. If you get scared, just stroke and tell the boy how big his cock is, boys love that shit. When you see his nuts disappear, get it out of your mouth because he's going to unload. If your mouth gets tired, that's because you didn't stop and lick enough. You can't go wrong with licks.

And...

And if you're sucking a guy really good and he can last longer than ten minutes, marry him.

Ivy gulped.

"What's going on?" Kyle asked, impatient.

"Sorry," Ivy squeaked.

"Wait a minute," Kyle stepped back and looked down at Ivy. "You've never sucked cock before?"

Ivy kicked herself for being on the wrong end of that question. It's not like she didn't waste a dozen opportunities to suck Tad. If she had, she'd have been ready for this moment. Ready for the big leagues. Ready for the boy-to-end-all-boys whose hard junk was eleven inches from her mouth.

"I don't know how," Ivy said. As soon as it came out of her mouth she regretted saying it. She sounded like a little kid.

"Aw shit," Kyle said. He took another step back and his hard cock snapped away from Ivy's hand. He rubbed his face and stamped around in a circle, angry. "I thought the whole point of you being here was you were hot and heavy with your boyfriend back north?"

Ivy suddenly wanted to cry. "Yeah, but... Not like that..."

"You've really never sucked a cock before?"

"Just be patient with me," Ivy said. She heard herself getting ready to cry.

All the air went out of Kyle in one long, frustrated huff. "Ah jeebus," he said.

"Please don't be like that," Ivy said. "I can't help it."

"Okay, okay, don't start balling on me, O'Brien," Kyle said. "I promised you nobody would hurt you. I just didn't understand. I thought you were more experienced."

"I'll do it, you just have to be patient with me," Ivy pleaded.

Kyle combed his hair with his fingers and studied Ivy.

"Really?" he asked. "You up for it?"

"I'll try. I promise. Just stop yelling at me."

Kyle looked around. He walked over to his sofa chair near the window and clicked on his desk lamp. He sat down. "Okay, get over here. Kneel." Kyle pointed to the floor between his legs. "If you're going to learn how to suck cock, you might as well do it right."

Ivy climbed off the bed and kneeled in front of Kyle. She had never kneeled in front of a boy or man before. Certainly not sexually. Looking up at Kyle with his hands on the arms of his chair, his stern expression, and his hard cock twitching in space, Ivy understood. The submissiveness of kneeling made sense. The way it sparked the part of her that loved boy attention made sense, because Kyle's eyes were all over her every move. The way it emphasized her service made sense. She loved to take care of men. She even loved making sandwiches for Gary back when he and her mom were a thing. She loved bringing him beers when he sat on the couch watching basketball on television.

And now she was in service to Kyle.

"Repeat after me," Kyle said. "Tongue is good, teeth are bad."

Ivy said it.

"You've got an exceptionally small kisser on that little Kewpie Doll mouth of yours," Kyle said. "It's part of what makes you so fucking sexy. Guys always want to see a big dick stretching out a small mouth on a girl. So you're going to have to remember to be careful not to bite the fuck out of my rod, okay?"

Ivy nodded.

"And from here on out," Kyle said sternly, "I say it and you do it. Without hesitation. I mean it. Put your hand on top of your head."

Ivy blinked.

Kyle barked. "I said put your hand on your head!"

Ivy flinched and put her hand on her head.

"Put your other hand on your belly," Kyle barked. "Good. Stick your tongue out. Farther. Good. Grab my crank. Good, now lower. That's better. Put the tip of my cock on the end of your nose. You heard me, girl! Good. Touch it to your forehead. Good."

Kyle's game of Simon Says was silly, but she felt his thick shaft get even harder in her grip and saw the head of his dick go crimson as she followed orders as fast as he could shout them.

"Get your tongue back out," he warned. "I didn't tell you to put it away. Okay bring it back in your mouth. Back out. Back in your mouth. Back out. Farther. Good. Touch your tongue here." Kye pointed at a spot on the lower left side of his shaft, next to his nuts. "Good girl. Touch your tongue here." He pointed at the tip of his cockhead. Again, the cockhead felt hot on Ivy's licker.

"Tap my cock two times on your left cheek."

Ivy felt silly, but she did it.

"Tap it four times on your right cheek."

Ivy almost smiled. Four taps. She realized that Kyle's stupid game was breaking down her barriers.

"You've got fingernails. Gently pull them down my sack. Slowly."

Ivy didn't understand balls. Balls were creepy and a little scary. But she did as she was told. "Gently!" barked Kyle. "Yeah, that's better. Oh that's really nice. Again. Eeeeewwww yeah. Again. No, now you're too gentle. Use the tips of your nails. Yes. Yeah. Shit!" Kyle jerked with pleasure. That's awesome. Good girl."

Ivy's heart thrilled every time Kyle said, "Good girl."

Kyle locked eyes with Ivy. "Girl, I want you to kiss every inch of my cock. Every inch. Start where my balls meet my shaft and you kiss every goddamn inch of it, front back and sides. Bottom middle and top. Especially the top. If you like me at all, this is the time to show it. You got it?"

Ivy nodded, almost anticipating Kyle's next bark.

"Get to it."

Ivy pressed her lips into the uncertain line where cock could be balls and balls could be cock. She was kneeling before a gorgeous boy, kissing his cock all over. Some of her jangling nerves gave way to lusty service. Her eyes kept looking up to see if she was having any effect on Kyle's expression.

"Excellent. Good," he purred. "Uh, you skipped this whole part right here," Kyle pointed to the top shelf of his cock where it met his pubic hair.

Ivy smiled and pulled Kyle's cock downward so she could press her mouth into the spot she missed with her kisses. She was surprised by how much strength it took to keep Kyle's junk pulled down. She zig-zagged a kiss line back and forth across the top of his shaft. When she started pushing kisses into the top of Kyle's cockhead, Kyle stopped muttering his "Goods" and his "That's its. He just lolled his head slowly around his neck. That's when Ivy knew she was catching on.

She pressed slow, warm kisses all over the face of his drippy, sticky cock head. Kyle started breathing heavy.

He leaned forward. "Ivy, I want you to do exactly what you just did, but instead of kisses, I want you to lick my cock. Every inch of it. Nice and slow. And Ivy!"

Ivy looked Kyle in his serious eyes.

"I want you to taste every inch of me as you do it. Don't just make it wet. Don't try to avoid me. Taste me. Every inch. Now get to it."

By the time Ivy had made the bottom half of Kyle's cock glisten with her spit, her pussy was dripping wet and needy again. Cock skin was smoother than regular skin, but it didn't taste any different than regular skin. Except for the precum drips, and those weren't bad at all. Precum tasted like salty skin. She could smell the heat coming off Kyle's balls and the scent was primal and not unpleasant.

By the time her tongue started circling the head of Kyle's cock, she was a totally different girl than she had been twenty minutes before. She was not only ready to have that twitching, glowing, dribbling pecker head between her lips, she was going to burn up with frustration if she didn't get it.

"Can I suck now," Ivy whispered between licks.

Kyle grinned down at her. That pose of his. He was the king and they both knew it. They both liked it that way. All that feminist crap she read in her magazines, and none of it mattered now. She was exactly where she was supposed to be in service to a beautiful boy and his beautiful cock.

"Say please," Kyle growled. "Beg."

"Please can I suck you?" Ivy said. She batted her eyelashes for effect.

"Okay," Kyle said. "Let's see what you've got."

Ivy pushed her teeth apart and tried to get her lips around the head of Kyle's cock. It was half kiss, half suck, and barely half of Kyle's cock head. Ivy finally appreciated the salty-sticky taste of it on the back of her tongue. It felt right in her mouth.

"Watch the teeth," Kyle hissed. "Little wider with that mouth."

Ivy noticed that Kyle was making a monkey face, and then realized it was pain. She forced her mouth even wider until Kyle's cockhead slipped behind her teeth. It was quite a mouthful and she was just getting started.

"Easy!" Kyle was cringing again.

Ivy ignored him this time. His cock felt really good to suck. Like her mouth had been made for exactly this. She started drooling at the pleasant warmth and taste rolling over her tongue.

"Okay. Easy. Dammit, teeth. Ivy. Yeow-SHIT!"

Kyle stood up and pushed Ivy's mouth off his cock in the same movement. He was clearly in pain. "Gah, girl. You are chewing the fuck out of me."

Ivy was too stunned to form words.

Kyle looked uncertain about what to do next. He rubbed his face the way he did when he was frustrated. He pointed at the bed. "Get up on the bed. Spread your legs."

Woot! Finally! Ivy was going to get some hard cock satisfaction in her needy, naughty, suck-soaked puss.

She lay on her back and spread her legs, again taken by the submissive roleplay of it all. Kyle waited to mount the bed, his eyes eating her up and his hand pumping his cock in slow, rolling tugs. His balls were way up against the base of his shaft. The longer Ivy waited with her legs open, the more her pussy tingled with anticipation.

"Play with yourself," nodded Kyle, standing at the foot of the bed and slowly masturbating.

Ivy felt the sexy attention all over her nakedness. Her nipples were antennas, twitching at every gust of air moved by the ceiling fan. Her knees were warm. Kyle's animal downward stare at her was making her crazier by the second. Her fingers traced down from her belly button and pushed into her soft, soaking folds. She didn't expect her pussy lips to be so far out. They seemed obscenely engorged and distended. She hadn't really noticed that about herself but she remembered Tad saying something about big pussy lips. Was she weird?

The smouldering eyelock between boy and girl as they both pleasured themselves was laser-focused intensity; a beam hot enough to slice a manhole cover in half.

Kyle mounted the bed. Ivy lifted her hands over her head. Kyle stopped short of mounting her and tipped face-first into Ivy's pussy. He began licking her clit and circling his tongue. All that needy heat in Ivy's loins somehow shot up into her neck and inner ear. She thrashed. Kyle's strong grip locked on the inside of her calves and pulled her legs apart, opening her secret up to more exposure to his horny tongue and grunting licks.

"Oh flying FUCK!" Ivy screamed as Kyle locked a sucking fish mouth around her clit and began working it over.

Kyle broke his ministrations to spit on his index finger and went back to sucking clit again, making the angry bee sound in Ivy's ears drone even louder. She could barely hear the obscene slosh of all her body fluids skating and squirting across the boy's carnal mouth.

Her whole bottom was electric. She couldn't tell where her pussy stopped and her thighs began. But the sex tension of being licked was mostly in her neck and shoulders, by way of some nerve highway through the desert of her stomach in which her engorged nipples were heavily leveraged truck stops. The more rough Kyle was with his grip and his jostling her up and down against his mouth, the louder the bees buzzed in Ivy's head.

And then the tickle. The tickling sensation at her butthole. Kyle's spit-wet finger was wiggling around her pooper. It was crazy. Ivy wasn't sure if she liked it or not, but it was definitely an intense sensation that somehow managed to break through all the pleasure waves that were rolling off Kyle's talented mouth.

Then Kyle had the tip of his finger in Ivy's butthole, wiggling it rhythmically. It was something unworldly. It was a hot pleasure. A pressure pleasure. A perfect counter to the wet friction of Kyle's hungry, grunting, pussy lapping tongue.

Ivy's entire being ratcheted in on itself for a hard moment before it all exploded outward.

Ivy came. She came and thrashed and came and thrashed. Kyle kept her just where he wanted her and never eased up one second of sucky-licks on her clit. Hard sucks followed by wet concentric circles. And sucks again.

Kyle's strong grip on Ivy made every pleasure wave ripple even harder in magnitude. Being under his control was as perfect as the pleasure from his sex mouth.

Finally Kyle relented and pulled his mouth away, leaving Ivy to melt in creamy, writhing satisfaction.

"Oh that was amazing," Ivy groaned. "You broke my brain!'

Aggressive Kyle became Tender Kyle. He took gentle sucks on each of Ivy's engorged breasts and rubbed the flat of his palm down her hips.

"Thank you," Ivy whispered. A pleasure aftershock rolled through her untouched pussy and she arched again. "Oh gawd! That was fucking unreal."

"Oh so you do curse!" Kyle smiled.

"Only when I come," Ivy panted. "I guess."

"Don't tell me you've never come before," Kyle said.

"Well I thought I had," Ivy panted. "But now I'm not so sure. Nothing even close to that. Thank you."

"Stop thanking me," Kyle said. He licked the wet pussy sheen off his lips and wiped it away from his chin and cheeks. "It's late. My alarm goes off in five hours."

"What?" Ivy sat up. "Are you kidding?"

"Relax. Pee and I lift at the clubhouse gym. You'll stay right here."

"Oh okay."

"But I'm not done bossing you around," Kyle said. "You ready for this?"

Ivy wasn't sure, but she nodded.

"Starting tomorrow, you're going to get blowjob lessons from Pietr. Not debatable. Second thing. You're going to make me come."

Ivy nodded. Uncertain.

Kyle leaned over and pulled a bottle of baby oil out of his night stand. "Kneel between my legs."

Ivy did as she was told.

Kyle opened the flip-lid of the baby oil and farted an outragous spill of it down his tool, puddling on his balls and the sheets. "Stroke. Do it."

Ivy gripped Kyle's dick and started pumping it, pulling the gravity curtain of dripping oil back up toward the head. Soon it was making that beautiful shicka-shicka sound that she liked and foaming from a mix of air and Kyle's soapy precome.

"You want me to use two hands?" Ivy asked. "There's plenty of room for it on your big dick."

"No," Kyle panted. "Just keep doing what your doing."

Ivy pouted a sexy pout but did not miss a stroke, gripping the boy's cock even harder. "Too bad," she said in a kitten voice. "So much wasted cock that's not getting loved on at the bottom of that hard--"

"You got it!" Kyle moaned. "Stay high. Good. More. Don't slow down. Good. Good. That's--- Goouhhh-ahhhhhahahah!"

White goo fountained out of the red tip of Kyle's manhood, and it just kept spurting out with every upward pull of Ivy's hand. The first of it landed on Kyle's stomach. Then Ivy pulled Kyle's cock back toward her and took hot, fragrant splashes all over her breasts and arms. Come smelled like nothing else she had mapped in her brain, but she quickly decided she liked it.

The squirts got smaller and thinner.

"Do not stop," Kyle growled.

Ivy kept pulling oil up over the cock head. Two huge, hard spurts fired out as Kyle's orgasm coda. The first one hit her under the chin. The second one right across her lips. For some reason this was funny to Ivy.

"Lick your lips, girl," Kyle said, pulling Ivy's hand away from his dick. "Taste me."

Ivy didn't hesitate. Kyle watched her expression as the new flavor moved across her tongue. It really wasn't that bad. I was thicker than she expected, like egg whites. But the taste was like some kind of weird metallic vitamin version of an Indian spice blend. Garam Masala or Cumin. Something bitter and exotic.

Kyle was waiting for Ivy to say something.

"That was really great," she said, almost singing. "Thank you."

Kyle nodded. "It's too late for cuddling. Cover up and let's sleep."

"I need to get up and wipe off," Ivy said. "I'm covered in you."

"I worked hard to mark you." Kyle turned off the light. "Now wear it. Lay down. Let my cum dry on you while you sleep so when you wake up in my bed tomorrow we'll both remember what a good girl you were."

"I'm a mess!"

The room was dark. "I don't care. Sheets are made to be washed. Lie down."

Ivy fell into the bed and pulled covers over her breasts. Kyle's come had been hot, but it was cooling fast. It was weird to try and sleep sticky as Kyle's seed thinned and went cold.

Kyle took some heavy adjustment breaths. He turned on his side toward Ivy and pushed Ivy away into a spoon position. His heavy arm draped over her and pinned Ivy into the mattress.

It was wonderful.

Kyle's breaths dropped out and Ivy knew he'd fallen asleep. She could not be happier. She was tingling with happy satisfaction. The smell of Kyle's come was intense. The vapors of it pushed through her nose, into her lungs, and became part of her bloodstream. The last vestiges of her girlbrain made the final transition into becoming a woman's mind under that heady cloud of Kyle's mansplash.

CHAPTER NINE: PIETR IS AN ASSHOLE

Ivy's Dream: She and Poke were bicycling through the ramps of some stadium, probably Mercedes-Benz Stadium. Ivy had only been there once, and it was a school field trip, not a Falcons game. Although the girls in the dream were bicycling up steep inclines, it was effortless. The bikes were doing all the work. Her legs pumped every now and again, and that's all it took for her and Poke to zoom along in pleasant momentum. Ivy wasn't sure where they were going. She was just following Poke. The escalators and people-movers were flat and seemingly made for bicycles, launching them higher and higher into the plateaus of the stadium concrete.

It was good to see Poke again. Ivy hadn't been gone long, but she knew she missed her BFF.

"C'mon," Poke shouted over her shoulder. "Hurry up. It's getting ready to start!"

Ivy didn't know what 'It' was, but Poke was obviously stoked about 'It."

Somewhere inside the stadium the crowd began to roar. The Chainsmokers hit the first chords of "Don't Let Me Down." Ivy finally understood why she and Poke were bicycling to the top of the stadium. That's where the cheapest tickets were. Tickets that Ivy could afford on the rare occasions she could afford them. Fantastic! Ivy loved The Chainsmokers and had been dying to see them play live, but she knew her mother would never cough up $70 for a concert ticket or $40 for the coveted T-shirt. Poke's drug dealer brothers must have bought the tickets.

Poke whipped her bike around a blind corner. "Hurry!" she shouted.

Ivy whipped the handlebars of her Trek to follow, but a giant man -- Not Pietr but somehow Pietr in dreamlogic -- clotheslined her with a thick arm, scooping her up right as her bike dropped out from under her. The blind corner had been a dead end cliff and her bike tumbled away into space, trailing Poke who was plummeting to her demise.

"No!" Ivy screamed. "Noooooo!" She pounded on the chest of Not Pietr/Pietr who had just saved her life but allowed her BFF to perish. "Do something! Save her! Don't just stand there! Do something!!!"

Mute Dream Not Pietr/Pietr reached over and pulled an alarm lever on the concrete support pillar. The dream stadium screamed with a horribly shrill siren. It hurt Ivy's ears, which was odd. Ivy wasn't used to feeling pain in a drea--

"PEE WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!!!"

Ivy came awake in the chaos so quickly that her legs started bicycling in the air as she sat up.

The sound was deafening. And painful.

Ivy was still dizzy from being yanked out of REM. She couldn't process the hell that was going on around her, stabbing her ears.

Then she saw it. Pietr, fully dressed, was standing in Kyle's room. He had a broomstick in his hand and was pressing it into the smoke detector. All the smoke detectors in the house were wired together, because the miserable bleating screech was coming from everywhere.

Pietr was wearing a yellow hard hat with the words "Safety Warden" screened in red letters across the front. Little doubt that hat originated in China and arrived in a box adorned with the Amazon smile. Pietr had a clipboard in his hand.

"Let's go!" Pietr stopped pressing the stick into the smoke detector. "C'mon. House is aflame. Everybody outside. Everybody outside and line up."

"Pietr have you lost your fucking mind!" screamed Kyle. "I just got to bed."

Pietr shook his head slowly. "Fire don't care, Kyle. Fire gonna eat you, sleepy or spry."

Kyle flopped in the bed and pulled a pillow over his head. "Go away!!!"

Pietr shook his head and disgust and pushed his broomstick up into the smoke detector again. This time Ivy knew to cover her ears.

*BRRRRRRRRRRRRR-R-R-R-R-RT!*

Kyle was practically crying. "Pee, you fucktard asshole! I'm going to murder you."

Pietr dropped the broomstick and spoke calmly. "Fire don't care if you're mad, Kyle. Fire's gonna fire."

"Jesus WHY?" screamed Kyle.

"This drill has been on the schedule for six months," Pietr said. He checked a stopwatch he had pinched to his clipboard under the spring. "Fire don't care that you were out late catting around or fucking the guests. C'mon."

"Pietr..." whined Kyle. "Mercy."

Pietr lifted his broomstick to the smoke alarm again.

"No!" shouted Kyle, sitting up. "Fine! Fine! Ivy, get the fuck out of the bed. Let's get this over with."

"House is burning, Kyle. Ivy's burning, Kyle."

"Shut up, Fire Marshall Bill," Kyle growled. He pulled on jeans over his bare junk, ran to his closet, yanked a graphic T off a hanger, and whipped it at Ivy. "Put that on," Kyle spat. "Follow me."

The three kids marched out the front door and stood in the driveway. Kyle stood in the moonlight with sleepy homicide in his eyes.

Pietr faced Kyle and Ivy, pointing a flashlight at his clipboard and stopwatch. Pietr shook his head in disgust. "Tsk tsk tsk. Seven minutes, fourteen seconds. That's the worst ever."

Kyle muttered something wicked under his breath.

"Kyle!" shouted Pietr brightly. "Report!"

Kyle took a deep angry sigh. "Kyle, guest, and dog." Deep breath. "Accounted for."

Ivy had not noticed that Misery was wagging her tail behind them.

"Good," said Pietr. "Mom? Mom?" Pietr pretended to look around for Kelly Dawn. "Mom?"

Kyle growled between clenched teeth. "Mother not present but accounted for."

Pietr nodded and made a checkmark on his clipboard.

"Do we have a phone or communication device at the ready?" Pietr asked Kyle.

Kyle yanked the clipboard out of Pietr's hand and flung it like a Frisbee up on the garage roof. "I'm going back to bed," Kyle grumbled. "And I will totally get you back for this, Pee."

"Fire drills were your idea, Kyle." Pietr said to Kyle's back. When Kyle cleared the doorway, Ivy looked at Pietr. He had a tiny satisfied smirk at the corner of his mouth. Pietr looked at Ivy and nodded toward the house. "Must be cold, standing in the dark," Pietr whispered, "covered in spunk." He chuckled.

Ivy shook her head in disbelief. She squinted at Pietr. "Evil has a name," she nodded.

Pietr, ever-unflappable, smiled broadly. "That's okay. You don't like nice guys anyway, Ivy."

Two minutes later she was back in Kyle's bed. He was turned toward the window and she was spooned into his backside, her arm draped over his bare waist this time. Pietr's words were eating away at the varnish on a good day. What did that even mean, anyway?

Of course she liked nice guys. Nice guys were nice. Bossy bad boys were awesome, but nice guys were just fine.

Why, some of her best friends were nice guys. So there.

CHAPTER TEN: ROCKING

Ivy barely rousted when the alarm on Kyle's crappy phone alarm went off. "You're not seriously getting up," she croaked. "It's still dark out."

Kyle pulled himself up off the bed. "Excuses begin as cobwebs," he yawned, "and end up as chains."

"Who said that?" Ivy mumbled.

"Me," Kyle answered. "Just now." Moments later he was in his workout clothes, leaning over to kiss Ivy's forehead. He smelled like he hadn't showered. He smelled like pussy.

"Go back to sleep," Kyle whispered. "I'll chop up some fruit for your breakfast. You can eat it plain or mix it with some cottage cheese, if you want. Just don't go crazy."

"Thksbai," Ivy slurred into the pillow. Even half asleep, she knew she was on the winning end of grownup relationship kabuki: After mind-blowing sex, her guy was kissing her goodbye before going to "work." Cute Kabuki Husband was whispering that he valued her enough to have breakfast waiting for her. Awesome sauce.

"Wait," Ivy grumbled. "You have coffee here? Or is that not on the diet?"

"We have great coffee," Kyle said. "I'll brew some for you. Use a drop of heavy cream instead of half and half. And no sugar!"

"Mphkay," waved Ivy. "Have fun stormin' the castle."

Chopped strawberries and cottage cheese tasted better than Ivy would have guessed. The coffee was amazing; way better than whatever off-brand grind-in-a-can her mother brought home. She walked around the kitchen buck-ass naked. What was the point of clothes? The venetian blinds were closed. The boys knew her nudity. Misery was apathetic. She still hadn't bothered to check-in to the guest room long enough to grab clean duds to wear after her shower.

The skin on her arms, stomach, breasts and neck was still tight from Kyle's dried semen. She still smelled like Kyle's essence. It was making her horny again. Ivy wasn't in a hurry to wash it off yet.

Ivy considered weighing herself while she was naked and the boys were gone. Pietr had told her not to weigh every day, only once a week. But they wouldn't know. Still, it was such a wonderful morning, why test it? Why let a bad number ruin a perfectly fantastic day?

After showering and dressing, Ivy dried her hair and applied her makeup a bit more carefully than usual. Misery sat in the bathroom doorway with a leash in her mouth.

"You want to go for a walk, girl? I didn't even know you had a leash, you're such a good girl to stay close when we're outside."

Misery wagged her tail vigorously and looked at Ivy with pleading eyes,

"Miz," Ivy said, "I just got my smokey eye perfect. Do you know how hard that is to get two perfect smokey eyes? Well it's quite difficult, actually. If we go out for a walk, it's all going to melt away. Can't you give me a pass?"

Misery whistled pathetically through her nose and bumped Ivy's thigh with her snout.

Ivy sighed. "Oh. Okay. Let's go."

Ivy finished a circuit around two neighborhood blocks without getting lost. She still wasn't certain why Misery had a leash because the dog never took the slack out of the lead or strayed from Ivy's shin the whole time. Maybe it was an ordinance or something.

Ivy strolled up the driveway past Pietr's truck, exactly where it had been when Ivy left the house. Wherever the boys went to work out, they had walked. Or more likely ran, knowing them.

Kyle was on her the second she walked in the door. "Where the hell were you, Ivy?"

"Taking the dog for a walk."

"You couldn't leave a note?"

"S-sorry. I didn't expect you to get back before I did."

"Ivy, I told you. There are bad guys in this neighborhood. You can't just disappear without letting us know where you are at. We're responsible for you!"

"Sorry, Kyle. I get it. Won't happen again."

Kyle was clearly still upset. It was adorable that he cared enough about Ivy to be worried. Kyle was trying to let it go. "You even left the door unlocked. Okay. Just... You know. Don't scare me like that. I drove around the neighborhood looking for you. I guess we must have been moving in two different loops."

"Sheesh, Mom!" Ivy said. "It's okay. I'm alive. I had to fight off an alligator and a bear, but I made it back."

Kyle smirked. "Okay. You got me, smartass. Pietr is out of the shower. He doesn't have that long before he's got to go to his volunteer gig. Go on upstairs and get started on Pietr's blowjob lessons."

"What?"

"You heard me. I told you last night that Pietr was going to give you blowjob lessons."

"Yeah, but... I wasn't sure you were ser-- I didn't think it would be so soon. Like it's still morning."

"The best time of day for a proper blowjob is always now," Kyle said. "Now go up and get busy. After we drop Kyle at Veterans', you're tagging along with me today."

"Oh cool," Ivy said. "What are we doing?"

"I have band practice."

"Marching band?"

Kyle laughed. "No. Stationary band."

"Oh wow!" Ivy said. "I saw the guitar in your room. That kind of band?"

"Yes. And actually I'm in two bands. Fortunately both band practices line up today. We'll have a couple hours in-between and maybe we'll get to a beach. Is that okay?"

"Great!" Ivy squealed. "Your two bands... What kind of bands are they?"

"Both kinds of bands," Kyle said.

"Rock and country?"

Kyle shook his head in the negative. "One is the kind of band that makes music, and the other is the kind of band that makes money. Now get upstairs to Pietr."

Pietr was still naked from his shower, but he was dry and still a little flushed with exertion from his workout. The thick top part of his hair was molded into a perfect wave with product. Seeing Pietr naked, in person, in daylight, up close... Ivy's neck throbbed and she realized she was suddenly nervous again. Holy shit, that was a big boy. Big chest. Big arms. Big thighs. And his Kong dong was angled half-hard below a putting green of dark blonde pubes.

"Hey," said Ivy. She gulped and crossed the room to kiss Pietr.

Pietr flinched his head backward. "What are you doing?"

"Kissing you?" Ivy said.

Pietr shook his head. "This isn't Kissing Lessons. I tried that and you weren't into it."

"Piet--"

"Shut up!"

Pietr's bark stunned Ivy. Anger was out-of-character for Pietr and quite frightening. She wasn't used to seeing his face scowling and looking all hardass.

"Why are you wearing clothes?" Pietr growled.

Ivy stripped back to her birthday suit quickly, draping her clothes over the back of Pietr's desk chair.

Pietr sat in his version of an upholstered reading chair by his window. He sat forward on the edge of the cushion. He pointed at the floor in front of him. "Down on all fours like a dog."

"Really?" Ivy asked. "We can't even kiss a little first?"

Pietr sighed. He rose from the chair and walked slowly toward Ivy. Again, his hands went to her sides. Ivy closed her eyes and puckered. Pietr lifted her.

... And then Pietr was sitting on his bed and pulling Ivy over his lap.

"What are you...." Ivy started.

Pietr's giant hand started spanking Ivy's ass before she could finish the sentence. Ten hard smacks, almost as hard as Pervy Gary's punishment had been.

"Yeowch!" Ivy cried.

Pietr stood up and placed Ivy exactly where she'd been standing moments before. He sat in his upholstered chair, same way as before. He pointed at the floor in front of him. "All fours. Now."

Ivy dropped to her knees and started crying. "You hurt me, you asshole!"

"I didn't hurt you."

"Yes you did!"

"You're not hurt, you're uncomfortable." Pietr said calmly.

"No, it hurts! Bad! You hurt me!"

"Does it really hurt?"

"Yes." Ivy rubbed comfort into her hot buns.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Pietr took a patient deep breath. "Now? Does it still hurt?"

"Kinda."

"Or is it just tingling and uncomfortable?"

Ivy sniffed and wiped her eyes. Pietr was right. "Just uncomfortable, I guess."

"So I didn't hurt you," Pietr said flatly. "I made you uncomfortable. Now get down on your hands and knees, girl. Now. Or I'm going to make you twice as uncomfortable as I did the first time you didn't listen to me."

Ivy stopped rubbing her sore ass and launched herself on her hands and knees in front of Pietr.

"Much better," Pietr said. "So we understand each other?"

Tears welled in Ivy's eyes and her perfect eyeliner streaked down her cheeks. She nodded.

"Super," Pietr said. "Okay, you're on the clock. Get busy. Let's see what you've got."

Ivy inched forward to get her mouth close enough to suck Pietr. Her hand lifted off the carpet to grab the giant half-hard dick in front of her.

Pietr smacked Ivy's hand away. "You don't need that," he said. "Hands are a crutch. You're a girl. Girls suck cock. Ivy, suck my cock."

Ivy gulped and leaned forward. She dropped her jaw and stretched her mouth around the head of Pietr's thick cock. She might as well have been trying to get an entire large plum in her yapper. It was quite a challenge. Pietr's cock head was already hot.

"That's a girl," said Pietr softly. "Now show me something. Suck."

Ivy tried. She could barely get enough of Pietr's cock head in her mouth to suck, but she tried really hard. She felt cock scrape against her teeth and knew she was messing that part up. Pietr didn't say anything about that or grimace.

"That's better," Pietr said softly. Amazingly, his big dick got bigger in Ivy's stretched mouth. His hard shaft was lifting her head with it's spring pressure. "Suck."

Ivy sucked and slurped at as much hot cockhead as she could. Again she felt her teeth scrape the crown. She looked up at Pietr, but he didn't seem bothered.

"More," said Pietr. "Deeper." His fingers gently pressed at the back of Ivy's head, encouraging her. Not exactly forcing her down on his cock.

Ivy tried, but there was no place for any more dick to go. Pietr's dick crashed against both sides of her molars.

Pietr hissed through his nose and grabbed Ivy's hair. He pulled her head away and backed his dick out of her mouth, a slower version of exactly what Kyle had done before Kyle freaked out. Ivy looked up at Pietr, wondering if she was getting spanked again. Pietr leaned forward and gently rubbed the back of his fingers against Ivy's cheek.

"Darlin'," Pietr said softly. "The reason you're biting it is because you're fighting it. Darlin' you know how a pussy can adapt to a cock of any size? You know that right?"

Ivy nodded. Her upturned eyes were huge.

"It's the same with your mouth. A girl's mouth was made for cock, just the same way a pussy was made for big cocks and babies." Pietr's voice was calm and soft. "You're a girl. That means you're a cocksucker. Now say it."

"I'm a girl?"

Pietr rolled his eyes and made a rolling motion with his index finger. "Keep going."

"I'm a cocksucker?"

Pietr smiled and nodded. "Yes you are. And a cocksucker isn't anything if she doesn't have a hard cock in her mouth. Ivy... Hard cock belongs in a cocksucker's mouth. Say it."

Ivy said it.

Pietr seemed pleased. "You're a cocksucker. Say it. Mean it."

"I'm a cocksucker." Ivy was surprised at how sexy she shaped the words.

"Beautiful," Pietr cooed. "And a cocksucker with an empty mouth is just a sucker. Say it."

Ivy batted her eyelashes. "Cocksuckers with empty mouths are just suckers."

"Cock belongs in your mouth. Say it."

Ivy said it.

"Your mouth belongs around a cock. Say it."

Ivy said it.

Pietr nodded. "Okay. Let's try this again. Stop fighting the cock. Let my cock complete your pretty little cocksucker mouth. Make love to me with your mouth, girl."

Ivy's pussy started to whet at being under Pietr's bossy command. She'd never really seen this side of him, the Alpha boy. But he sure had it in him. Ivy resolved to impress Pietr.

She swallowed his cock head and began to slurp it. Slowly she eased forward, becoming more comfortable and trusting of having something huge and hard on the back part of her tongue.

"Much better," Pietr said. "Great job."

Ivy relaxed under the wash of Pietr's praise.

"Now work that upsuck a little harder. A little harder, Darlin'. If I can't hear you, you're not sucking hard enough."

Ivy really gave it all the suction she had. Her wet squacks filled the room.

"There we go, Darlin'," Pietr said. "Now you may not know this, but I have a fabulous cock. And it's only polite for you to let me know that you know I have a fabulous cock in your little cocksucker mouth by moaning while you suck it. Moan for me girl. Moan like you've got something good in that cocksucker mouth."

Ivy moaned. Pietr melted back in his chair. Ivy really wanted to feel her fingers around the base of Pietr's thick shaft. She wanted to squeeze it. She longed to touch it and that longing somehow ended up escaping through her twisting, slurping suck.

Pietr leaned forward. Ivy's eyes snapped upward, fearing she was about to get manhandled again. He reached under his cock and tapped at Ivy's bottom lip with his thick index finger. "Stick out your tongue. Over your bottom lip."

Ivy did. Or she thought she did.

"No, you took it right back in," scolded Pietr. "Stick it out and keep it out. Farther. If you can't feel my finger, I can't feel your tongue. That means it's not out far enough."

There was barely enough room for Pietr's hard shaft to stretch the circle of Ivy's lips. It was hard to fit a tongue through that opening as well. She really pushed her tongue out, tasting for Pietr's finger. She finally did.

"Perfect," Pietr said. "I want you to work on doing that for as long as you can. If you don't do it, or if I have to keep reminding you to stick out your tongue over your bottom lip, I'm going to grab your head and fuck your mouth and throat. You aren't going to like that. So don't test me."

Ivy nodded as best as she could with the springboard of Pietr's hard dick testing her jaw.

...And there it was. Sticking her tongue out... flattened it. Suddenly the pressure against the roof of her mouth eased. She could take more. She had more room to slurp and bob. She now had the top third of Pietr's cock in her cocksucking mouth.

"Oh verrrry nice," Pietr said. "You're getting it."

What Ivy needed to get was attention on her pussy. Looking up and seeing that big, powerful boy melting under her cocksucking was making her hornier by the second.

Ivy popped off Pietr's cock and began licking the shaft that was closest to her face in big, sweeping, puppy licks. "You could fuck me if you want, Pietr," Ivy whispered between licks.

"You haven't earned that yet, girl," Pietr said. "And besides. If I wanted to fuck you, there's nothing that you, God, and three armies could do to stop me." He pushed his own cock downward until the head was back in front of Ivy's mouth. "Suck."

So much for Poke's advice to take lick breaks to keep her jaw from getting tired. Ivy sucked. She felt her pussy gush under all Pietr's bossiness. She really needed to rub her pink stuff soon if Pietr wasn't going to do something with her.

"How's the lesson?" It was Kyle's voice.

"She's coming along, Boss," Pietr said. "She just needed a little time on her knees and maybe a few spankings on her ass."

"You didn't give it to her too bad," Kyle said. "I can't even see a handprint. You going soft?"

"Naw, she didn't need a lot of rough stuff to understand what a cocksucker needs to do," Pietr said.

"Whoopsie, you roughed her up a little," Kyle said. "Look at that mascara running down her cheeks."

Being watched by Kyle was somehow making Ivy even hornier. She slurped and moaned and bobbed her head. Pietr was tasting saltier, which meant his precome was dribbling inside her mouth. Her cocksucking mouth.

Kyle stepped behind Ivy's bitch pose and stuck his fingers up into her pussy. She jumped.

"Wow, she's wet," Kyle said. "Her pussy lips are all the way out. This little angel has got some wings, brother!"

Unfortunately, Kyle stopped rubbing Ivy's pussy. He leaned against the top of Pietr's chair and absently sucked Ivy's pussy honey off his fingers with wet snaps. "Man," Kyle said. "Is there anything sexier than bitches with tiny mouths sucking a huge cock."

"You want to tag in, Boss? Try her out."

Ivy looked up at Kyle and prayed that he said "Yes," If for no other reason than to have a dick with a smaller circumference in her jaw for a while so it could rest a bit. The tension pain of keeping her jaw cracked wide had crept all the way up into her eyeballs.

Kyle looked at his watch. "Aw man," he lamented. "I'd love to. But we've got to get rolling soon or you're going to be late for Veterans. You better give it to her and move it along."

"Okay," Pietr said. "Darlin' I'm going to take you now. You be a good girl for me. Keep sucking. I won't give you any more than I know you can take, okay?"

Pietr didn't wait for an answer. He grabbed the back of Ivy's hair and began humping against the back of Ivy's throat. Not too hard. He wasn't choking her. But he was definitely testing her gag reflex. He was too powerful to stop, so Ivy didn't try. She was a cocksucker. The natural state of a cocksucker was to have a cock in her mouth. A cocksucker without cock was just a sucker.

Pietr furiously fucked Ivy's mouth. He grunted. Then again. He let go of Ivy's hair and relaxed backwards. Ivy looked up at him. He looked at her. Kyle and Pietr were both looking at her.

She was still slurping and sucking. Did Pietr cum? She hadn't tasted anything. He was acting like he came. Was this it? Was she do---

And there it was. Hot, bitter, boy cum flooded her mouth. Ivy startled and gulped it down. Gulped and gulped. Swallowed as fast as she could swallow. Pietr's cock flexed and filled her mouth with yet another thick load.

Finally Pietr hissed a satisfied exhale.

"Shit," Kyle said, clearly impressed. "She got it all didn't she?"

"Almost," Pietr said. "Gah. Stop, girl. That's enough. You're going to give me an aneurysm."

Pietr pulled his cock out of Ivy's mouth. "Lick the sides of your lips."

The tip of Ivy's tongue lolled east and west, fetching two more glops of boy essense toward her tonsils. She breathed heavy, conscious of her sex-engorged breasts swinging below her. She could feel the sticky thickness coating her teeth and making string bridges between the roof of her mouth and her tongue. With every breath of air whooshing past her lips, the taste of Pietr in her mouth became more acidic and bitter.

"Holy crap!" Ivy said. The head of Pietr's cock was marked with pink and purple dots. War wounds. "Did I do that? Oh my god! I'm so sorry, Pietr."

"You're fine," assured Pietr. "Kyle's taking you to the beach but we really have to get rolling now. Go throw grab your bikini and a towel out of the bathroom. We've already got a beach basket with all the lotion you'll need. Your sun hat is on the kitchen table. Move it!"

Pietr's volunteer job was at some run-down industrial park in Clearwater called Veterans Funeral Services. He jumped out of the truck and Kyle walked around and slid behind the wheel.

"Is that a funeral home?" Ivy cringed.

"No," Kyle said. "Just a 501c3 that helps out military widows and families. Sometimes Pee has to load caskets in and out of a hearse, but mainly he just does a lot of paperwork and sometimes he sits in on grief counseling. He's a good listener."

Ivy nodded. "And not a bad teacher."

Kyle smiled. "So consider this, Ivy. Yesterday when you woke up, you had never sucked a cock. Right? And today, you've not only sucked a cock, but you've likely sucked off the biggest cock you'll ever suck off in your entire life. Let's face it. Chances of you ever droppin' trou with another guy packing like Pee are slim at best."

"Who knows?" Ivy shrugged.

"I know," Kyle said with absolute certainty. "Pietr's a monster. And you serviced him. So, like, every cock you'll ever suck for the rest of your life will be easier than what you just took on.

"I don't know for certain that's true," Ivy said, "but I certainly hope it's true."

Kyle laughed.

"Hey, why don't you have an amp?" Ivy looked at the modest singular guitar case in the bed of the truck. "All the guys I know who are in a band have a bunch of amps and cables and steppy-thingys and stuff."

Kyle shook his head. "Not me, girl. Gear is a trap. It's a moneysuck. I've got a sweet axe and a little electronic box that clips on my belt that I can plug in headphones to practice. That's all I need. If somebody wants Kyle Kisselhoff in their band, they have to have the gear to host me. Otherwise music is a hobby. And Cuteness?" Kyle looked at Ivy. "I don't have hobbies. Hobbies are a moneysuck. I make money. I don't waste money."

"You play out?" Ivy asked.

"Every Friday and Saturday night," said Kyle. "And most Sunday afternoons when the tourists are here."

"That's very cool," Ivy said. "Can I come hear you play?"

"If we play somewhere that allows under eighteen," Kyle answered. "We play a lot of sketchy joints and bars around town. Places idiots go to drink, dance, and fight. Not necessarily in that order."

"Oh."

"And trust me," continued Kyle, "after sitting in on rehearsal today, you're going to be bored as fuck with all our lame monkey tricks. Last thing you'll want to hear another fucking Jimmy Buffet song slowed down to three-eighths time. Er... Which brings us to a little heads up."

"What?"

Kyle's mouth thinned. "This first band is kind of mercenary and all-business. Technically I'm breaking some rules by bringing you along. I really need you to be cool. Just sit and read and don't touch anything. If anybody blows you shit, just point them at me. I'll take care of it."

Kyle drove the truck into an industrial park; narrow easements between low square buildings that had seen better days. Kyle stopped the truck at a big loading door; one of dozens of loading doors along the back of the building, but this door was half raised. Kyle parked the car and pulled the emergency break. "Promise me you'll be cool?"

Ivy nodded. "I promise." "What's the name of this band?" she asked.

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Hurricane Hole. Tourist band, right? Sheesh, it's embarrassing."

The first thing that surprised Ivy was how old the musicians in Hurricane Hole were. They were like OLD. Like older than Gary old. Paunchy and bearded with leathery faces. Kyle was by far the youngest member of the band. The next youngest, the female vocalist, was somewhere in her mid-to-late thirties. Not pretty, but she had a cute-mom vibe. She had a chin-and-a-half and her face was so round that if she got a pimple on the tip of her nose she'd look like a dart board.

There were some folding chairs against the wall and Kyle chivalrously opened one for Ivy before he unlatched his guitar case and extracted an iridescent peacock blue Les Paul. Ivy didn't know a lot about guitars, but she knew that Les Paul guitar were good ones.

A crusty looking guy with an eye patch yelled at Kyle. "Hey Gashmagnet? This ain't daycare, Son. You know you aint supposed to bring your skirts to practice."

Kyle shrugged and kept tuning his guitar, his eyes fixed on some pedal on the floor among a tangle of them. "Sorry, Tom," he said. "Unavoidable."

Ivy smiled. "Oh we're not an item. I'm just a guest. Visiting from out of town." She smiled a polite smile.

The crusty guy, who was so bossy that he had to be in charge, scowled at Ivy. "Yah, I can see you're not his type. And yaknow how I know that?"

Ivy shook her head in the negative.

"Because," Tom bellowed, "you don't have reading glasses on a chain around your neck!"

Tom laughed and all the rest of the men laughed too.

"Oh, leave my Kylebear alone, you jerks," said the female vocalist.

Kyle smiled sheepishly and just kept tuning his guitar. "Thanks Brenda. Hey Dougy," he said, "Why you got my chromatic buffed instead of bypassed?"

A guy who looked like a biker pulled reading glasses out of his denim vest pocket and looked down at the tangle of cables and steppy-thingies on the floor. "Tommy was bitching about you clicking at the last gig," the man said.

"Dude!" Kyle said. "I tuned twice! I wasn't twisting hot!"

Dougy shrugged. "The guy who signs the checks said you were noisy."

"Goddamn right you were clicking," growled Tom. "Sounded like you were texting one of your skirts in Morse Code." The man acted this out, wiggling his foot furiously and making "Deh deh de dah-de-de" sounds.

"Dude!" Kyle held out his hands in disbelief. "Newsflash. If you don't want me to tune between sets, book the gigs inside for once. It was 98% humidity on that fucking patio."

"Just try it in buffer," growled Tom. He slung the strap of a bass guitar over his neck and adjusted the angle of the microphone in the stand in front of him. "That wood you're chopping cost more than my first three cars combined. If you can't keep it in tune for one short set, we'll have Doug switch it back. Okay, Pirates! We all got better places to be. Let's see if we can ace this and get Kyle and his little friend home in time for SpongeBob. Kev, count us in."

The drummer banged his sticks together above his head three times. Ivy was blown away by what came next. They all rambled seamlessly into James Brown's Get Up Offa Dat Thing as if somebody threw a switch on a CD player. And they were good! The Tom guy didn't sound like James Brown, but he was a good singer. And the musicians -- Kyle included -- were flawless. It was like listening to a recording. When they got to the end of the song they all just kept playing. Ivy wasn't sure where James Brown ended and 99 Luftballons began. The female singer was good.

Ivy had Fakie 180ed through several attempts of boys trying to act like a band in her short life. The guitars were always cool, the amps were always too loud, and the music was always miserable. Her expectations for Kyle's band were low. But Hurricane Hole was pitch perfect. And not too loud at all. 99 Luftballons became the Tom Jones version of Kiss with Tom singing lead and trading off with Brenda. The guitar work gave Kyle his first chance to really show off. He was brilliant. He didn't move around much when he played, but his fingers were all over that rosewood fretboard.

Ivy was impressed.

The songs didn't stop and start. They all just blended together to keep a danceble beat rolling along. Ivy couldn't read her book. She wanted to dance. Remembering Kyle's admonition, she merely sat and grooved her bottom against her metal folding chair.

"Okay, you sweethearts," Brenda said in a smooth jazz radio voice to an invisible audience, "grab a hand and put it on a butt. Let's slow this down with a little trip to a place down south. Where limes are always fresh and when you're hungry you might find yourself..."

Tom started in with the lyrics to Margaritaville. Ivy looked at Kyle. Kyle looked back and crossed his eyes in comical disgust. Ivy squeed inside. He was so cute. His clown expressions for Ivy made her feel special. Made her feel like she belonged in his circuit. She was an insider.

Ivy felt a new pang of longing. She'd felt the longing for Kyle in her eyes the day she arrived in Trinity. She'd felt longing for Kyle in her pussy as she knelt before his cock. And now a new sensation of longing, half way between her pussy and her eyes. The tightness in her chest was dangerous, but Ivy couldn't help it.

After twelve songs blended together into one long dance mix, Hurricane Hole ended their first set. Crabby Tom wasted no time complaining.

"Kevin," he shouted at the drummer, "do you need some coffee or something? Your clock is terrible today. My grandson has a Snoopy watch that keeps better time."

He turned around to Kyle. "And Gashmagnet. You should be on the downpick when we hit those half note railroad track caesuras in Roxanne. Those upstrums of yours are hanging before you can dampen."

Kyle nodded patiently and offered a thumbs-up acknowledgement.

Tom looked at his watch. "I'd really like to do that set again, but Kevin was drumming in a vat of Jello, so we're behind. Anybody need to pee, or can we power through the second set?" It was obvious that he was directing this open question at Brenda. "No? Okay. Gashmagnet!"

Kyle fingered into the bent string ramp to Paradise by the Dashboard Light and the bass player chased right behind.

"Wowsers!" Ivy was nervously naked in the truck, slipping into her bikini top while Kyle motored down a relatively low-traffic stretch of US 19. "Your band is really good. But that Tom guy is kind of a butthole, huh?"

"He's the boss," Kyle shrugged. "My dad used to say that any day of your life that you don't work for an asshole means there's gonna come a day where you work for two at the same time. Tom is my designated asshole. And not a terrible one. We understand each other."

Ivy tied her top straps behind her neck and exhaled at not being ogled by a passing car. "I dunno. I'd say Dr. Finch and Tom are two jerks at the same time. I guess that means your next job will be a-hole free. How far to the beach?"

"Not far," Kyle answered. "I want you to know you are special. We're goin' out to Honeymoon Island. That's a state park and six hard-earned dollars to get past the guard shack. I don't take all my girls to money beaches. Just the special ones."

"I'm worth it," Ivy smiled. "I tell you what, since you spent six whole dollars on me, I'll give you a seven dollar blowjob. Hows bow dah?"

"Deal!" Kyle smiled.

The day was glorious and the beach was practically empty.The Gulf breeze was a delicious break from the inland humidity. The sugar sand was warm between her tiny toes, but not uncomfortable.

"I look like a dork in this big hat," said Ivy. Her hand grabbed the crown to keep a Gulf gust from blowing it off her head.

"Au contraire, mon chere," Kyle said, speaking French in a silly southern twang. "You are adorable as always." Kyle slathered sunblock up and down Ivy's legs. His powerful hands made sure her legs knew who was boss. The tickle part of Kyle's touch on her sensitive inner knees was unbearable. The sexy squeeze Kyle left where her thigh gap met her bikini bottom was also unbearable, but for a different reason. Her slut gear was in motion now, spinning a little faster with the passing of each perfect beach moment. Ivy was already thinking about what was going to happen when she and Kyle returned to the house tonight. Her tongue was itchy thinking about latching onto Kyle's inflation valve and impressing him with her improved suck skills. She flashed back to both Zooey's warning and her own first-hand experience with Kyle's copious cumshots. Best not to try a blowjob right after dinner when her stomach was full. All that cum had to have somewhere to go.

Kyle didn't worry about sunblock. He was already brown as a biscuit, sweating up a sheen that made him look amazingly imperfectly perfect.

After sitting in the sun for forty minutes, the sun began to win. Ivy stepped into the warm Gulf water to cool off. It was too warm, almost disappointing. Ivy kept walking farther from shore, but the water didn't seem to get any deeper.

Kyle trudged in behind her and scooped her up under his arm like a football. He carried her into chest-deep water that seemed a mile from the sand. He let go and Ivy had no choice but to dogpaddle close to the reef that was Kyle. It was slightly too deep for Ivy to touch bottom. Larger waves found them at infrequent intervals and floated them skyward in joyous weightlessness. Kyle wrapped Ivy into his chest and kissed her. Ivy kissed back, tasting the salt on his lips.

"I don't want to cheat you out of your beach," Kyle said. "But I know a place where we can park the truck and make out for a while before we go to my next practice, if you--"

"Yes!" Ivy didn't wait for Kyle to finish his sentence.

There was a Park Ranger easement road on the island that was blocked off by only a cable latched to an eyebolt. Kyle opened it and pulled the truck through. Then jumped out and latched it behind him.

"Are you sure this is safe?" Ivy asked. "I don't want to get in trouble."

Kyle didn't drive far before stopping the truck under the canopy of a small tropical trees adorned with pinkish red bottlebrush blooms. Kyle turned off the truck. Ivy could hear seabirds call and tall grasses shushing, but not much else. "Remember where we came in? The guard shacks? If you were looking you would have seen three ranger trucks parked in the little lot just beyond them. There are only three rangers for the island, and a couple days a week the only park employees are the ones working the gates. That's because they all work weekends and need a couple of comp days during the week when nobody is here."

"Ah," said Ivy. "Clever boy." She opened the passenger door of the truck.

"Hang on," Kyle said. Kyle walked around the back of the truck to the passenger door and lifted Ivy out like a baby. He carried her to the back of the truck on his hip and lowered the lift gate.

"Am I too precious to walk?" Ivy asked.

"Just being cautious," Kyle said, looking around the tall prairie grass beneath him. "Rattlesnakes."

"Oh!" Ivy's eyes went big. Somehow she crushed on Kyle even harder. Kyle returned to the cab of the truck and pulled some blankets from behind the seat. He laid them out in the bed of the truck and jumped in with Ivy. He wasted no time pushing his mouth into Ivy's lips. She made no attempt to stop him, laying back with his forward momentum. He was all over her with his kisses and his weight and the palms of his warm hands on her bare midriff. Ivy couldn't get enough. She was ready to fuck him. The blue sky, the Gulf breeze, the shade of tropical trees dancing over them... It was perfect. It was the perfection she had wanted from her first time with Tad.

With Tad, getting the small details right was like trying to get a cat to do your taxes. Tad just didn't "get it." But with Kyle, it was second nature. He understood. And dammit, he could kiss better than any boy. Except maybe Pietr. Pietr was pretty good with his lips too, but Pietr wasn't here and...

"Ohhhh!" Ivy arched her back. Kyle had pulled the triangle of her bikini bottoms aside and his fingertips didn't miss a millimeter of her horny clitoris as they scissored open and exposed her secret to the sky. Kyle's tongue pushed into Ivy's mouth and her pussy counterlevered up into Kyle's skilled fingers. She was a brushfire. It was so unlike her. They had just started making out and she was already burning with want for the what-comes-next of it all.

Kyle snaked his free hand behind her neck and the next thing she knew her bikini top was down on her stomach. Kyle started sucking nipples. Every time his mouth came away to change breasts, the crisp sea air closed around her crinkled wet bud and took her breath away with natural satisfaction.

Kyle was relentless, circling a slippery finger around her nerve button, getting right down to business. When he let go of Ivy's pussy she almost cried out in disappointment.

Kyle struggled and managed to yank his stiff manhood out of the leg opening of his shorts. He pulled Ivy's hand toward it and she immediately latched on and started pumping pleasure into the girthy thickness with instinctive pressure and gription. Kyle thanked her with an even hotter kiss and even hornier fingers back on her pink parts.

If she was alone, It took Ivy forever to rub one out. She realized Kyle was about to spin her ears in record time. She squeezed his cock harder and felt it's pulse. Her neck stiffened. Her tongue elongated in Kyle's mouth. Tension racked her Achilles and calves like someone was tightening cargo straps between the back of her knees and heels. She smelled the salt water on Kyle's cologne.

She screamed in Kyle's mouth as she lost it and quivered out a hard orgasm. Kyle didn't stop until Ivy exhausted herself from her own thrashing, trying to escape the overstimulation of Kyle's fingers and losing at every turn. He was having his way for as long as he wanted. His fingers were a half-step ahead of every twist of her hips and every buck of her bottom.

Kyle finally released Ivy's pussy and brought it to Ivy's cheek as he kissed her with slow tender pecks. The hand was sticky and wet and smelled like pussy. Ivy's girlbrain immediately wondered if it smelled bad. Was she gross?

To answer, Kyle stopped kissing long enough to clean her sex off his fingers by pulling them through his lips. Kyle checked his watch. "We need to get moving." Kyle made a funny face and licked some more pussy sheen from his knuckle. "But damn, you've got a sweet pussy. We may be a little late."

Kyle dropped between Ivy's legs and pulled at the strings on the hips of her bikini, unwrapping her bottom.

"What are you doing?" Ivy asked. "Are you finally going to fuck me?"

"Don't have time," Kyle said. He lowered his mouth into Ivy's pussy folds. "This honey of yours is too good to waste. I'm going to clean you up a little."

Kyle's tongue was everywhere. It was too soon after her brain-splitting orgasm. She could not take the stimulation. Her pink folds were still throbbing in afterglow. The bumpy back part of Kyle's tongue was merciless against the sensitive ramp under her clitoris, and then the clit proper. The very tip of his tongue forced the hood of her clitoris back and exposed even more of it to Kyle's horny mouth. Ivy instinctively tried to roll away to the side, but Kyle wasn't having it. She bucked, but that only pushed her pussy high enough for Kyle's long licker to press into her fuck box. His strong hands wrapped around her ass and clamped over the top of her thighs, preventing them from coming closed against Kyle's delicious onslaught. He was back sucking her clit with captive hard suction again for a moment before his hands slid behind her knees and pushed them up against her chest. Kyle's fluttering tongue danced across Ivy's butthole. She screamed with the unexpected sensation, like nothing she had ever felt before. Kyle pulled her knees back and latched his lips around Ivy's clit and stretched it with suction until it crashed into Kyle's top teeth.

That was all she wrote.

Ivy tried to scream as the second orgasm exploded from her neck and ears again, but only a white rush of air squeaked out. She'd never come twice in row before and the second blast was too intense to catalog in her young brain.

Too.

Much.

Kyle released her completely and came up on his knees. Ivy continued to fish flop in aftershocks, which clearly delighted Kyle. She realized her fingers had been clutching the edge of the blanket in a death grip, bending it in a futile attempt to wrap herself away from Kyle's strong insistence.

"You're a little slut," Kyle declared through a shit-eating grin.

"I cc-cc-can't hh-help it," Ivy thrashed.

"Yeah, I know," Kyle nodded. "That's what makes you a slut."

It was the kind of rough boy-talk that always pinched Ivy's feminist nerve. But there was no malice in Kyle's expression. It was just intimate talk between intimates. Boyfriend teasing girlfriend. And also it was kind of true. Ivy had been thinking about sex almost constantly since her second day with the boys.

"Put yourself together, Sweetness." Kyle checked his watch again. "You came so fast we just might make practice on time."

Kyle's dick was still hard and hanging out of the leg of his shorts. He struggled to push it back into propriety. Ivy wondered why Kyle's cock still had not found its way inside her. She could not be more ready to seal the deal. She could break up with Tad later, she wanted Kyle to be her new guy now. Yesterday. She didn't know how she'd make it work long distance with an older boy who was clearly a man-whore who could not be tamed. But she'd figure that part out later. The first step was to give him the good, old-fashioned screwing that would make her girlfriend gravity inescapable.

Tonight. Abso-darn-lutely, it was going to happen tonight.

Kyle pulled into yet another suburban driveway. "Hey, Ivy, at this practice..."

"I know, I know." Ivy pulled down the vanity mirror of the truck and checked her makeup for the third time. "Keep my mouth shut. Don't talk. Don't touch anything."

Kyle stared at Ivy.

Ivy shrugged at him. "Whah?"

"Actually I was going to say that Dale is super cool, and you are encouraged to speak your opinion, make friends with everyone, and touch everything." Kyle blinked. "Okay?"

Ivy blushed. "So... Just the opposite of your other band?"

"Polar," Kyle nodded.

The band was set up in the garage, of course, but they walked through the house without knocking to get there. The space was air-conditioned, mercifully. A smallish blonde teen boy who looked like a cross between Ed Sheeran and Tad stood up from a keyboard and walked right at Ivy.

"Are you Ivy?" he asked, smiling.

"Yes."

He hugged Ivy in a surprise move. "Welcome! It's great to have you. You going to help us make some music today?"

Ivy blinked as the boy stepped back and smiled. "Uh... Sorry. I don't play."

"Sure you do," Dale said. "Can you sing?"

"A little?"

"Well that's the most important instrument there is. Surely you can play some percussion. Can you shake some maracas?"

Ivy squinted, not sure if she was being goofed. "Er... I don't know. Is that a metaphor?"

Kyle snorted a laugh from across the room. "Sorry, but I'm on the clock as usual, brah. What's the play?"

"Still working on that mess we started last time." Dale turned toward a giant whiteboard on rollers with lyrics spaced out. It was as big as any whiteboard Ivy had seen in school. At the top was written either the name of the band or the name of the song: Sunhunny.

"Holy crap." Kyle regarded the board, pointed at the chord notations over some of the words. "You changed the key to... To... What the hell is that? A flat? E flat?"

"E flat," Dale nodded.

"Jeez, man, I'm not Brad Delp," Kyle said. "Can you sing that high?"

Dale smiled. "With enough Pro Tools, anybody can."

"Fair enough."

A black teen girl entered the garage. Ivy assumed she was another girlfriend. "My tracks clean, Dee?" she asked.

"Yeah, you're good," Dale said, "But would you mind trading off with Kissy to see if you two can spark anything new or cool?"

"Absolutely," said the girl. She picked up a bass guitar and pulled the strap over her head. "Kyle you ready, or do you need to get something to drink?"

Kyle unboxed his guitar. "I could really use a water. I'm parched," he said. "My mouth feels like I've been drinking salty honey all morning." He shot Ivy a quick glance.

"Ivy, sweetheart," Dale said, "could you grab Kyle a Dasani out of the kitchen fridge? Grab whatever you want too."

Ivy could not have been more thrilled to make a refreshment run for her guy. ...Well, sort of her guy.

When she stepped back into the garage, it was as if Kyle and the girl playing bass guitar were pretending to jam. There was no music except the hollow trill of strings clanking. But everybody's heads were bobbing. As if all that nothingness meant something.

Dale waved a hand to get Ivy's attention. Then he tapped on his big, over-the-ear headphones. Ivy realized everyone was wearing headphones. Dale pointed at a couch next to his mixing console where an empty pair of headphones waited for her. She set the water on a tiny table next to Kyle, slipped off her shoes, crashed into the oversoft couch, and pulled on the headphones. And there it was. Real music. Drums. A man singing. Keyboards. And Kyle's guitar and the girl's bass notes wrapping around one another like a maypole. It wasn't a song she had ever heard before. It sounded like Brandon Flowers singing a Sia ballad, but a little more uptempo.

Ivy looked over her shoulders and realized the lyrics were the same as those written on the whiteboard. It gave Ivy the chance to catch up with the story of the song.

Lookin' for that girl who can grace the space

Soft shoulders for your fingers to trace

Consolation for the one you can't replace

Still hear those little feet on the staircase

God gave angels wings for flyin'

Away from you when you stop tryin'

Her sun rose and set with you,

But you had more important things to do

And now you're lookin at that half empty wardrobe

Finally got back that hoodie that she borrowed.

Drop it in the washer with a little bleach

But it still smells like her and that time at the beach

And that girl has wings

That girl has wings,

That girl has wings, it's true.

And you, you've got the space

Where heaven used to sigh for you.

Dale pulled his headphones off and waved. Kyle and the girl stopped playing and slipped their headphones off as well.

"Still missing something," Dale said. "Kyle, any ideas?"

"I kind of like it," Kyle shrugged. "What's the issue?"

Dale rubbed his chin. "I can't put my finger on it, but it's just too... Just too... Ivy what am I trying to say?"

Ivy froze. "I... Er... I think it sounds great. It's like kind of Motown, but not Motown, if that makes any sense."

Dale's eyes went large. He snapped his fingers. "That's it! The bass is too on-the-nose. We need more Motown. We need more James Jamerson! Charlese, I need you to try and play a half step behind the beat. Skip every other downbeat, too. Can you try that? Funk it up a little?"

"Okay," said Charlese. Everybody slipped their headphones on and Dale pawed at his Macbook. There were nothing but weird clicks for a few seconds, and then the prerecorded music kicked in and the song started over. When Charlese and Kyle started jamming together, it sounded mostly the same to Ivy. She didn't hear much difference, but Dale seemed to smile a lot more. Kyle nodded at Charlese and her chin dipped a little.

When they got to the end of the song, Dale threw off his headphones, turned around, and kissed Ivy on the forehead. "You are a fucking genius, girl!"

"Good call," Kyle nodded at Ivy before he took a long, bubbling draw of his water bottle.

Charlese didn't seem very happy. "Hey, I'm supposed to help my little brother with his summer school Spanish. Can we lay one down, Dale? I really have to blow soon."

"Absolutely," Dale said. "Give me one just like that."

"Can you put Kyle dead in my cans? I play better off him, if that's okay."

It took Dale a minute to find the right settings on his laptop. "Kisser, give me some chordage. Charlese can you hear him?"

"Yep."

"Kyle can you hear you?"

"No," said Kyle. "Wait." He reached down and plugged his headphones into a different outlet in the black spaghetti mess around his shoes and tapped his strings. "Yes. We still clean on the mixer? No hum?" Kyle banged out a riff that Ivy couldn't hear.

Dale nodded.

They played the song again, but this time Ivy could not hear Kyle's guitar. She did, however hear the extra mo-towny funk rhythm that Charlese was putting into her bass licks.

"Nailed it! Thank you everybody!" Dale was delighted.

Kyle and Charlese fistbumped before she unstrapped. Kyle leaned back down to recable his headphones.

"See y'all!" Charlese waved. "Nice meeting you, Ivy."

"Bye," Ivy waved.

Before Charlese made it to the door, the door opened and Pietr almost crashed into her. A cute brunette girl Ivy had never seen was one step behind.

Charlese looked at Pietr suspiciously. Then she looked at Dale with question marks spinning over her confused head.

Dale cringed.

Pietr lifted his palms in a passive gesture. "Hey, just caught a ride from work and thought I'd save my brother some road time. We're cool. Just passing through."

Charlese was clearly perturbed. "Whatever. See you guys," she pushed past Pietr through the door to the house.

"Awkward," Dale said.

"Dale, I'm so sorry," Pietr said. "I thought she was gone by now."

"No worries," Kyle waved. "She stayed late to work through a problem."

Ivy had no idea what just happened. But she sensed it was something political with the band, not romantic.

The brunette folded into the couch next to Ivy as if she was no stranger to the studio. "Hey, are you Ivy?"

Ivy nodded.

"Twilly." They shook hands. "I work with Pietr at Veterans Funeral."

"Cool."

Ivy looked up and Pietr was whispering something in Kyle's ear.

"You're fucking kidding me!" Kyle exclaimed.

Pietr shrugged in an "I'm just the messenger" motion.

"When?" Kyle demanded.

Pietr leaned in and whispered again.

"Well fuck me running!" Kyle rolled his eyes. He checked his watch. "Who's going to pick her up?"

Pietr whispered again.

"Okay," Kyle sighed. "Okay, fine. Jesus. Can't anybody take care of their own fucking kids anymore? We've got shit to do."

"So what do you think of the song," Dale asked Ivy.

"Wha? Oh, the song. It's great!"

"Don't lie to me," Dale smiled. "We've already established your musical genius credentials. I know there's still something missing. Something not perfect about it."

"No no, it's great!" Ivy said. "Just..."

Dale locked eyes on her. "Just what?"

"Nothing. It's great."

"No, Ivy. For the love of all that is holy, do not hold back on me now," Dale pointed a finger at her. "What is it?"

"Just," Ivy said, "It's really beautiful, and everything. But the guy in the song. He's whining... I'm sorry, that was rude. He's singing about how he misses his girl. But there's no such thing as an 'I miss my girl' song. It's supposed be a "Please come back' song." Ivy cringed and looked at Dale, waiting to see if she had offended him.

"Please come back." Dale said it like a robot.

"Sorry," Ivy cringed again. "Forget I said anything. It's a great song."

Dale shook his head slowly and pointed his finger at Ivy again like he was about to accuse her of high treason. "Please come back."

Ivy shrugged. "You know what I'm saying. You know that kind of song. 'Please baby, come back."

Dale jerked like he'd been punched with an uppercut.

"Kyle!" Dale shouted. "Baby come back!"

Kyle and Pietr stopped bickering and turned toward Dale. "What?"

"Baby come back!" Dale shouted again. "Who sings Baby Come Back?"

Kyle's eyebrows made a funny shape. "You mean that oldie from the seventies? Fuck I know. Uh, Cameo? Isn't that Cameo?"

"No, it's Kool and the Gang," Pietr said.

Dale shook his head in disgust. "No, it's not Kool and the Gang. Crimeny." He tapped at his keyboard. "Ohio Players! Siri, play 'Baby Come Back' by the Ohio Players."

The monitors began crooning out some ancient song that was even too lame for Beth O'Brien. Dale paced with his hand in his chin. Ivy had never heard the song. It sounded like a ridiculous Gregory Brothers parody of Barry White screwing music.

Pietr and Kyle both exchanged "What the fuck?" expressions of comical disgust.

Pietr started pretending to like the plodding ballad. "Oooooh yeaaaaah," he growled in a deep male voice that drowned out the crooner on the speakers. "Why you gots all dem clothes on, baby?"

"Shut up!" shouted Dale. "Here it comes..."

When the Ohio Players sang the chorus, he froze and looked at Kyle.

Kyle shook his head. "Wrong tempo," Kyle said. "Not even close."

"I can fix that," Dale said. He stopped the song from playing. "Hang on, let's send it through the playbacks." He tapped furiously at his keyboard. A recording of "Baby come back" started and crashed. And started and crashed. Dale kept making adjustments. Just the chorus belted out through the speakers. Then it got faster and voices got higher like a Chipmunks song. Dale tapped the keyboard and it was just faster, but the voices weren't as high.

"Okay," Dale said, biting his lip. His Sunhunny song started through the speakers. For the first time, Ivy realized that Dale was the one singing the vocal tracks.

And now you're lookin at that half empty wardrobe

Finally got back that hoodie that she borrowed.

Drop it in the washer with a little bleach

But it still smells like her and that time at the beach...

The drum track never stopped, but it melded with the Ohio Players loop.

"Baby come back! Any kind of fool could see,"

"There was something in everything about you"

"Baby come back, you can blame it all on me."

"I was wrong, and I just can't live without you."

Kyle's eyes got wide. "Oh shit," he muttered. "That's totally it, isn't it?"

"That is totally it," Dale nodded.

"You going to sample it, or are you going to get somebody in here to loop it?" Kyle asked.

Dale looked at Kyle and smiled.

"Don't look at me, brah. I can't even falsetto that high."

Dale nodded. "Okay, that's cool. I know a guy."

"Hey," Pietr said, "You ever think about DeRelle Jastin? Getting him in here to kind of rap out that middle part? Jason Derulo style?" Pietr started doing a passable imitation of a rapper, affecting a black urban accent, tilting his shoulders and splaying his fingers. "You lookin' at tha half empty WAR-drobe. Fin'ly got back that hoodie that she BOR-rowed."

"Fuck yeah!" Dale clapped. He pointed at Pietr with a "you rock!" finger and then spun that same extended finger toward Ivy. "That, my dear, is what happens when you unlock a mystery! Collaboration explodes. You are fucking magic, girl!"

Ivy tried not to show that she was beaming inside. "Glad to help."

"You got DeRelle's number, Big Boris?" Dale asked, looking at his laptop. "Never mind. I found it! Oh my God. I'm going to get this tracked and pitch shift the backings for you and Charlese next week, Kissy. We might bring the key down a little. I think we really cracked this nut. I think we have a song."

Kyle nodded. "I think we have a song," he agreed.

"Big Boris, hows about we celebrate?" Dale asked. "You up for a little jam time?"

Pietr shook his head. "No way. Charlese already thinks I'm pushing her out. No way."

"She won't find out," Dale said. "I promise. Please? Pleeeeese?"

Pietr looked uncomfortable. He looked at Kyle.

Kyle shrugged. "Up to you, Hoss."

Pietr slumped. "You're supposed to back me up, brother. You know this kind of thing is toxic to a band."

Kyle nodded. "I know. It's just been so long since we jammed. I miss that shit so much."

Pietr sighed. He looked at Dale. "Do not record, okay? Nothing good can come of that."

Dale clapped his hands with delight. He settled himself behind a drum kit while Pietr pulled a bass guitar off a rack of guitars, adjusted the strap and plugged in. Pietr's fingers shook about the strings and a machine gun blast of bass note scales rattled the concrete walls. He unplugged his guitar and walked over to Dale's laptop.

"What do you want?" Pietr asked.

"I have no idea what you're going to do," Kyle answered. "You set the hook and I'll tow the line."

"Uhm..." Pietr pondered. "Hey, you remember that one we used to do? Rake Fight?"

Kyle laughed. "Amish Rake Fight! Yeah. I remember. I loved that."

"What did you have on that?" Pietr asked.

"Oh man," Kyle thought. "Uh I think it was just a tiny bit of DD-3 and big can of OD-2."

Pietr tapped at the laptop and moved a mouse. "Try it."

A face melting blast of power chord sizzled out of the speakers in the room. "Easy!" Kyle called. "Too much delay. Back it off two-thirds." Kyle hit his strings again. "Yeah, just a little less fuzz on the OD." Strum. "Perfect."

Ivy noticed the oblivious expression on Twilly the brunette's face. She was playing Candy Crush on her phone, completely unmindful of the fascinating ruckus in the garage. Twilly looked dumb. Some girls were so pretty that they looked dumb. Twilly had that vacant, doofy expression of a dumb girl.

Pietr plugged back in. He stepped back on the carpet and took a long look at Dale and Kyle.

Pietr grabbed the bass guitar neck and hunched his shoulders. The room exploded in a crunchy, driving, ass-wiggler of a bass line. It was nasty. It was pornographic. It immediately put hooks in Ivy's knees and compelled them to move. Pietr's bass line was the sonic equivalent of YouTube videos of big butt girls twerking upside down, their hands on the floor and their feet up on a wall.

Dale threw his head back and just let his kick drum kiss the corners of Pietr's improvisation for a moment before his sticks came down in angry, slow strikes; one on the Tom and one on the snare. The spaces between the hard strikes filled with something that reminded Ivy of the rolling beats of a sea chanty. It mostly folded into Pietr's sick groove, but wasn't too timid to step on it and cuss it out every few bars.

Kyle did some kind of walk up on his fretboard and his metal-heavy melody dived head-first into the rhythm, coming up for air and spitting chordfulls of earworm licks everywhere on the carpeted concrete floors. The disruption of Kyle's guitar lacing the competing heartbeats from Pietr and Dale into a power melody throughline was too much for Ivy. She had to dance. Had to.

Twilly looked up at Ivy with a blank stare. Ivy grabbed her non-phone hand and pulled her off the couch. Twilly took the hint and danced too. Whatever the boys were playing was some kind of crazy hybrid of old bands like OKGO! and Valley Lodge; it was energy and momentum.

Even though there were microphone stands near Kyle and Pietr, neither of them sang. Apparently there were no real words to "Rake Fight." It didn't matter. It was awesome.

Much too soon, Pietr lifted his strumming hand over his head and made a motion like a cowboy twirling a lasso. Moments later the jam session ended with an ellipses of three stuttering chords, like a drunk stumbling up a short staircase.

Dale hooted. Kyle shook his head and grinned. "Man, I miss that shit, brother."

"Thanks man," Pietr said. "And we really have to run, Dale."

Pietr and Kyle hurriedly packed up the gear they borrowed and wrapped up some cables. Ivy was super impressed. She had no idea that Pietr had that much soul in him. He was easily as musically talented as Kyle.

Pietr was heading to talk to Ivy when Twilly intercepted him. "So are we going to do that movie this weekend? I texted you my digits."

Ivy clearly read Pietr's expression as an uncomfortable cringe, but Twilly didn't seem to pick up on that.

"Yyyyeah." Pietr said it like he was really trying to say "noooo" but his mouth betrayed him. "I can do Saturday night. 6:30ish? I've got to drop Kyle off at his other band gig and pick him up before 2 a.m. Does that work?"

"You pick me up?"

"Of course."

"Mmmkay," Twilly turned to leave and waggled her fingers at Pietr with a big dopey smile. "See ya then."

Pietr answered with a fake smile and Shooter McGavin pistol fingers. As soon as the door closed behind Twilly, Pietr slumped and slapped his forehead.

"She's cute," Kyle said, joining him with his guitar case. "What's the problem?"

"She's got the IQ of a King Charles Spaniel," Pietr moaned. "The clock always stops ten minutes into an airhead date. And she lives in fucking Largo. Gasoline will cost me more than dinner."

"She is totally DTF," Kyle said. "You'll be fine. Except for Ivy's BJ lessons, you've been a monk since Zooey went mad at us."

"Mad at you," Pietr corrected.

Kyle didn't react to Pietr. "Ivy, slight change of plans. We've got a guest coming to stay with us for a couple days. Pee and you are going to Uber home. I've got to make an airport run."

"Anybody I know?"

"Uh sure." Kyle actually blushed. "You've met Sadie, right?"

Ivy blinked. "Sadie? Sadie Bradwell? Jenny's daughter?"

"The same!" Pietr declared in a weird, high pitched falsetto.

"Staying with us? Why?"

"All questions are valid," Kyle shrugged. "But---"

"Yeah," Ivy cut him off. "Not all answers enlighten. Whatever. Where is she going to sleep?"

Kyle looked at Pietr. Pietr looked at Kyle. "You two can work that out."

Ivy's eyes went dark. "She can have Desdemona."

Pietr smiled. "Yeah. Good luck with that."

The Uber ride was short, less than five minutes. Back at the house, Pietr chopped up onions and a yellow pepper that he was going to mix into hamburger patties. Ivy already knew there would be no buns involved. The boys ate hamburgers like meatloaf, using a fork. No carbs.

Ivy sat on the kitchen island barstool and watched Pietr prep the food.

"You are a good musician," Ivy said.

"Thank you." Pietr did not look up from the cutting board.

"Why did you stop playing in Dale's band?"

Pietr shrugged. "Hard to explain. It only makes sense to Kyle and I."

"Try me."

Pietr looked up and stopped chopping. He slumped against the counter. "Just. Yaknow. Kyle and I always did everything together." Pietr spoke earnestly, weighing every word before he spake it. "Everything. We were always challenging one another to work harder or study harder or do more or find another gear. And that's great. That brotherly competition thing served us pretty well. But... Like I said. It's hard to explain. There was just a point where we knew we had to carve out space for ourselves. Be our own person. Does that make sense?"

"So you gave Kyle the music part?"

Pietr nodded and began mixing onions and seasoning into the hamburger meat with his thick fingers. "And he gave me football."

"Kyle played football?"

Pietr did not look up. "Kyle is twice the football player I am. Coach fucking cried when he didn't go out for JV."

"Wow. Really? And you're really a better musician than Kyle is, aren't you?"

Pietr shrugged. "It was always easier for me. Kyle worked a lot harder at it. He's probably better than I am now, though."

Ivy chewed on this. "So you are the better musician, but you chose football. And Kyle is the better football player, but he chose music. That right? That makes no sense."

Pietr looked Ivy in the eyes. "Kyle and I are standing in a line of thirty boys. You're a college football coach with x number of scholarships to hand out. Which one of us are you going to wave over to come take a scholarship? Kyle or me?"

Ivy's mouth went thin.

"Kyle and me are standing in line of thirty boys," Pietr repeated. "You're a solid working band, looking for a front man who can put girl butts in seats, and also sing and rock a fretboard. Which one of us are you going to wave over to be in your band? Kyle or me?"

Ivy nodded slowly. "Okay. I get it. It's just kind of... sad. You two are playing roles, but you're not happy."

"I'm happy," Pietr said. "I like football. Kyle likes music. It isn't what we want to do with our lives, but we're working a long-game strategy. Playing 'roles' might get us through college. It's backup Plan A."

"What's backup Plan B?"

"Military," Pietr said. "We will only be able to afford college for one of us. Assuming everything goes right and we can keep getting jobs. If I can get a football scholarship somewhere, Kyle can have the college money. If Kyle gets an academic scholarship, I can have the college money."

"MIT," Ivy said.

Pietr scowled. "I'm not going to MIT."

"You're smart."

"Yeah, but I'm not connected. We can't afford MIT, and I'm not connected enough to get that kind of scholarship."

"Can't you play for the MIT football team?"

Pietr laughed.

"What?" Ivy asked.

"You are fucking adorable," Pietr smiled. "Anyway. If one of us doesn't get that scholarship, we both already made the pact that we're both going to enlist and try to get into Special Forces. That's why Kyle won't tell you what he wants to do. Because he's afraid he's going to jinx us into the military."

"Oh. So what does Kyle want to do for a living?"

"Swarm logistics."

"Huh? What's that?"

"Uh, like with drones? You know, military drones or package delivery drones? Each drone has a program. But when you've got like 30 drones all programmed to do the same job, like a swarm of bees, you don't want to have to tell each one of the drones exactly what to do or exactly how not to crash into the other drones around it. You want to tell one drone what you want done and then have that drone communicate a kind of algorhythm to the other drones that says 'Hey, this is where we're going. This is what we're doing. Gary Drone, don't get closer to me than eighteen inches because it's windy today. Hey Bob Drone, if I get blown up or shot down, you're in charge of the rest of the drones.' That kind of thing."

"Oh cool."

"Yeah and when we have self-driving cars and self-flying cars, that's going to be important."

Ivy nodded, clearly impressed. "And what did you call that again? What's the name of the degree?"

"Swarm logistics."

"Swarm logistics," Ivy repeated. "I've never heard of that degree."

"That's because it doesn't exist yet," Pietr said. "But it will."

CHAPTER ELEVEN: SADIE

Ivy had packed for eight days and a washing machine. She didn't even packed her best lacy bra and panty set, a huge regret since she was now on a first-name basis with the sex organs of both boys.

Sadie, however, had apparently packed for an expedition to Saturn. She must have paid over $300 in checked baggage fees, and Kyle was juggling all of the colorful rollerbags in the doorway behind her. Sadie held nothing in her hands more cumbersome than a St. Laurent handbag that made Ivy drool with purple envy. You couldn't find them on clearance for less than two grand and this fourteen year old girl had a nice one.

"Ivy!" Sadie said in a fake sing-song. "Jennifer said you'd be here. All by your lonesome with these adorable boys. I just couldn't let you have all the fun!"

"Hey," Ivy nodded through a strained smile. "Funny meeting you here. Had a little too much Gary when you were home all alone, did you?"

"Oh pe-shaw!" Sadie waved her fake-tipped manicure at Ivy, nails painted the color of a brothel door. "Gary is an absolute cupcake, and I miss him already. But he had the opportunity to pick up a sweet contracting job in New Hampshire."

"Oh," Ivy nodded knowingly. "And your mom didn't want to leave you home alone."

Sadie made a sour face. "No, of course Jennifer trusts me to be alone. I'm an adult after all. I'm just lonely. Like I said. And I was talking to Jennifer on her cruise, and she mentioned that the boys were all alone down here with you. So I caught the next flight out."

Ivy squinted. All alone down here with you. That made no sense. Unless it did. "How very thoughtful of her," Ivy muttered.

Ivy tried to see Sadie through the eyes of a Kisselhoff boy. Sadie was about an inch taller than Ivy with comically enormous Southern girl hair; a nauseating mix of brassy red and brunette that was made even more unfortunate by the inexplicable choice of frosted tips. Absolute mayhem, but super long and obviously salon styled. The length of the hair was straight and bouncy, but it was hard to tell what nature had intended on top because her big crown was plastered with Aquanet into a giant swell. Ivy had an urge to just slap it to see if the hair shattered everywhere like glass. Ivy could smell the hairspray competing with Sadie's perfume.

Sadie's eyebrows were arched too high for a girl her age. She looked like a hooker. And Sadie obviously applied her foundation with a trowel. It made her lipstick stand out like a buoy light.

No doubt, Poke would take one look at Sadie and proclaim her "Fake AF." Sadie was an average looking girl who had packaged herself to the nines. She was all the class that money could buy. Gary's money.

She wasn't as slight as Ivy. She was thick, but not fat. She had a booty, but probably the full, juicy kind of booty that turned boy's heads. Oh, and also she had tits the size of cantaloupes. Jugs. Sadie was wearing a thigh-length dress with a cold shoulder and a V-line under pressure from the swell of Sadie's ample melons.

Ivy simmered with dislike. There was no way the boys were biting on this fake bait. Not Pietr, who had an hour earlier professed not to like dumb girls. (Twilly was twice as cute as Sadie, and Pietr wasn't into her.) And there was no way her beloved Kyle was going to dip his wick in that waxy mess, even if she did have a big rack. Sure, guys were dumb for boobs, but not that dumb. Not those boobs. Not Kyle. Not Pietr.

"Kyle, darling," Sadie said. "It's been too long and that was a dreadful two hours on a United flight without so much as televisions on every seat. Why don't you leave those bags for later and take me upstairs and fuck the living hell out of me?"

Ivy's jaw dropped. Literally dropped.

Kyle froze. Ivy smirked and her eyes thinned with the satisfaction of waiting to see what happened when Sadie outran her leash.

Kyle dropped the luggage. "Okay. Sounds good."

Ivy almost swallowed her tongue. "What?"

Sadie ignored her. "And I don't want to wait for your big meat, Pietr. Come on up and double me."

Pietr had been drying a grill pan with a dish towel. "Yeah. I can do that." he said.

"What?" Ivy was practically shouting.

"I'd invite you to watch," Sadie said to Ivy, "but you've already had your turn and I'm positively insatiable. I promise not to break them, as long as they promise to try and break my little pussy."

The Kisselhoff brothers swept Sadie toward the stairs. Ivy was mortified and confused. This was HER boyfriend. (Kinda) And this was HER night to finally make Kyle hers. And an interloping whore SLUT shows up from frickin' outer space and she's left standing in the living room while they all go off to SCREW??? What the H???

Ivy couldn't take it. She grabbed Misery's leash. "C'mon, girl. Let's get out of this pit."

Misery, who heard the jingle of her leash and plodded in to see what was up, looked at Ivy and flopped to the tile floor on her side. Not interested.

"You too? Really? Christmas!" Ivy huffed. She stormed out the front door and stamped her feet down the sidewalk. She walked in a blind rage and then walked until her blood boiled. Then she realized she didn't really have any place to go. She stopped and screamed at the sky.

When the red haze lifted from her vision, she finally noticed that a car was stopped in the street, not six feet away from her. Five boys who looked to be between fifteen and seventeen were staring at her like a zoo exhibit through the open windows.

Nobody said anything for several beats.

"Hey," nodded Ivy. She felt her face flushing with embarrassment.

"Having a bad day, Princess?" The cutest red haired boy that Ivy had ever seen was leaning out the passenger window. Ivy kept a soft spot in her heart for Rupert Grint and Prince Harry, and this boy's big eyes and cute face was somewhere in the twain.

"You could say that." Ivy nodded.

"Why don't you come over here and tell me about it?"

Ivy looked around to see if there were other humans about or kids playing in driveways. None.

"I'm okay. Sorry." Ivy offered an embarrassed wave.

"We don't bite," said the cute red haired boy. He had an amazing smile.

For a fleeting second, Ivy considered climbing in the car with the boys and acting like Sadie. Just look at them and say, "You. Red. Why don't you take me someplace and fuck me. And you, tall guy with the cute ears. I need to suck some dick. And you. Dark haired latin hunk who looks like a young Spanish Gerard Butler, don't go too far, I want you inside me next."

But that wasn't Ivy.

Still, there was a tiny fantasy flashing in her head of snogging with the red haired boy on a couch somewhere in a dark room while Kyle and Pietr wandered the streets calling out her name like a lost cat, getting more-and-more panicked about having lost their charge while sexing that bitch Sadie.

But that wasn't Ivy.

She began backpedaling nervously, momentarily uncertain which direction of sidewalk led back to the Kisselhoff house. She kind of knew the neighborhood by now, but her rage had left her momentarily oblivious to where her feet had marched her.

Ivy smiled. "Er... My dad is looking for me," Ivy said. "I'm supposed to be watching my little brother. I've got to go."

The passenger door opened and the red haired boy walked toward Ivy. She wondered if this was the part of the True Crime TV show where the Keith Morrison croaks in his sing-songy voice of irony, "Ivy tried to run... but she didn't get far."

He held out his hand to shake. Ivy reluctantly reached for it. Quick as a snake the boy's wrist pivoted and his fingers closed around Ivy's wrist. She gasped.

The boy looked her in the eye. Then he smiled and forced her palm upward.

"You are hellacute," the boy said. "My name is Dominic. And these are my digits." The boy pulled the cap off a thick Sharpie marker with his teeth and -- still holding Ivy's upturned palm captive -- wrote a phone number in thick block letters on her palm. It tickled. "If you get tired of chasing little boys, I'd love to get to know you better."

"Okay," Ivy blushed. "Thanks."

"You aren't going to tell me your name?" the boy asked. "How about your stripper name, then? Diamond? Jasmine? Cheyenne?"

Ivy giggled and told Dominic her real name.

"I have never met an Ivy before," Dominic winked. "And I doubt I'll ever meet one again without comparing her to you, Gorgeous." He finally released Ivy's hand and took a step back, allowing Ivy to exhale that this cute boy was not going to be the villain in a True Crime documentary after all. He was just the redheaded hering in Act Two.

Ivy's rage was almost extinguished when she walked back in the house. A little ego validation from a cute stranger helped. Then she heard Sadie's overloud sex sounds pouring down the stairs. Ivy thought about all her plans to seal the deal with Kyle tonight, and she raged all over again.

Maybe it wasn't really what it sounded like. Ivy picked up the television remote and quickly clicked to the camera in Pietr's room. No one there. She channeled up to the camera in Kyle's room. It was dark. Or half dark. There was a tiny bit of light haze in the bottom corner of the picture. Ivy realized they had thrown something over the camera so she couldn't watch.

And that made her absolutely insane with jealousy. Her cheeks blazed into a forest fire. She was so angry that her forearms were shaking. How frickin RUDE!

There was only one thing that would make this one iota better. She had to see what they had denied her the opportunity to see. She marched up the stairs toward the grunts and Sadie's ridiculous cat-in-heat noises. The door was ajar (so Ivy had to hear what they were doing, no doubt). Ivy took a deep breath and pushed the door open just wide enough to peer through.

Sadie was on her hands and knees, cutting across the lower corner of the bed. Her huge knockers with big brown saucer nipples flagged under the force of Kyle pounding her from behind. He was really taking her to town. His jaw was set. His hands were clamped around Sadie's hips, taking full control of her bottom as he repeatedly yanked her backwards into his thrust and absolutely crushed her pussy. All three were completely naked, but Ivy's eye was being pulled back and forth between Sadie's big swinging tits and Kyle's perfect ass winding up and releasing his cock to crash into Sadie over and over. No wonder she was so loud. He was fucking her senseless.

Pietr was doing his part to mute her screaming meows with his giant dick. He had one foot stepping up on the bed and the other on the floor, sending his thrusting dick at an angle between Sadie's stretched lips. Pietr had a grip of Sadie's big hair in each hand and there was nothing gentle or patient about what he was doing to Sadie's mouth.

She didn't seem to mind.

Watching the boys overwhelm Sadie with their grip and strength and thrusting backsides was something to see. Ivy knew that girls could take on two guys at once, but she had never seen that kind of porn. It would be enough for a girl to try to not lose her mind from such an onslaught to either orifice.

Both boys were using all their strength to take their pleasure from Sadie. But the brothers were in a one-two rhythm where Kyle pounded Sadie forward, forcing her mouth deeper on Pietr's cock. A half beat later, Pietr's oversized meat forced Sadie's ass-via-spine-via-throat back toward Kyle with a gurking sound from Sadie's overstuffed yapper.

This was no kissy-kissy lovemaking. This was barely sex as Ivy knew it. They were brutalizing Sadie with their aggressive motions. Ivy couldn't decide if she wanted to be where Sadie was, or if she was glad the boys were wolf-packing their pent up sexual aggression into that mouthy bitch instead of her.

Kyle stepped backwards and let go of Sadie's hips. His beautiful cock sprang up and slapped him in his six pack abs. Ivy couldn't get over how pretty Kyle's cock was. It was almost perfectly shaped. You couldn't really tell where his circumcision had been. There were no exposed veins like with Pietr's cock and Tad's little pecker. Kyle's cock looked as tan as the rest of him. It was covered in a thick sheen of Sadie's wet lust.

Kyle caught his breath. He walked toward Pietr and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him, blocking most of Ivy's view with is perfect ass. Ivy could still figure it out from the peripheral movements. Sadie grabbed Kyle's cock in her free hand and started alternating squacky mouth love back and forth between the boys; always stroking the cock that wasn't in her mouth.

Sadie sure looked comfortable. She seemed like she knew what she was doing. Nobody was talking and the boys weren't barking orders at her, but everybody appeared to know what was coming next.

"You ready," Kyle asked her.

"MMMmmm," Sadie's lips popped off Pietr's member and she kept licking it between talking to Kyle. "Okay," she said. "But please take it easy on me. It's been a while since I took a DeePee."

Ivy wondered what a DeePee was. Was somebody going to pee on somebody? That was gross.

Pietr and Kyle both crawled up on the bed. Pietr lifted Sadie like a rag doll. Kyle slid behind Sadie and gripped his cock at the base with one hand and wrapped his other arm around Sadie's midriff. He wiggled in to stab her bottom with his erection, but he was at the wrong angle.

Sadie's neck snapped back. "Jesus FUCK! OW! Ow!"

"Shut up," Kyle muttered. His cock hand let go and wrapped around the front of Sadie's throat. Her eyes were huge. Her mouth opened and closed without sound. Kyle rolled onto his back, taking Sadie with him, her nipples waving concentric circles at the ceiling fixtures. Pietr repositioned himself between the tangle of legs and gripped his own giant member.

That's when Ivy realized that Sadie's pussy was shaved and Kyle wasn't in it. He must have been in her butt. It explained why Sadie seemed like she was in misery. Ivy could not believe that Kyle was a boy who would have sex with a girl's butt. She was shocked.

Pietr used his dick to smack Sadie's upturned pussy like a cricket bat. Smack! Smack! Smack!

Every time Pietr cock-whipped Sadie's open folds, she thrashed. Every time Sadie thrashed, Kyle used the opportunity to thrust up into Sadie's butt, making her eyes pop and a gutteral sound gurgle past the throat he was squeezing in his grip.

Pietr leaned his shoulders back and pressed the tip of his club at the opening of Sadie's fuckhole. Once his cockhead was set where he wanted it, his hands went to the back of Sadie's knees.

It was the way Pietr gripped Sadie's knees and pushed them up into her tits that moved Ivy from total shock to realizing her own pussy was tingling with jealousy.

Pushing Sadie's knees back exposed the thick root of Kyle's dick buried in her bottom. Ivy could see both of the boys's sex planted in Sadie's lower holes. The way Kyle was completely in control of Sadie was amazing; One hand around her waist. One forearm splitting her big tits and his paw clamped around the front of her neck. Kyle was totally in control of Sadie BEFORE Pieter weighed in, and he was slowly pushing in, stretching Sadie to her limits.

"Say it," Pietr said flatly.

"Fuck me!" screamed Sadie.

"Beg."

"Oh please please! Please fuck my pussy. Fuck my ass. Oh god, please."

Pietr fell forward and started humping Sadie's pussy. Ivy could hear the wetness sloshing over the volume of Sadie's screams. If she was being raped, Sadie's front hole sure didn't seem to mind too much.

Sadie twisted in ecstasy agony, but she had nowhere to go. Ivy could not full process the multiplicity of both strong boys on the overmatched girl. Could Ivy take such abuse? Would her butt break? Would her pussy be able to stretch for Pietr if Kyle was already stretching her bottom hole?

Sadie could take it. Barely.

Kyle's mouth started showing wolf teeth as he picked up his pace and started pistoning into Sadie's behind. Sadie began to quiver all over. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, leaving only white eggs on each side of her nose. Her scream became a groan from somewhere primal. Pietr started fucking Sadie's pussy faster and faster, allowing himself to bottom out until there was nothing but his balls slapping at the spot between his dong and the top of Kyle's cock.

Sadie jerked, and jerked again. She grunted hard, like she'd been punched in the stomach.

Kyle arched and made an animal sound.

Pietr took five brutal, crashing fuckstrokes. His chin tilted up and his eyes went to slits. Ivy knew Pietr was sperming Sadie. Kyle stopped pistoning into Sadie's butt and hissed through his teeth.

There came a moment when everything stopped except for three teens panting.

Pietr started a slow saw in and out of Sadie. He hunched over to take tender alternating sucks off her upturned nipples. Ivy could see the downward curve in the root of Pietr's cock and knew it was shrinking away, but still formidable enough to give Sadie some gentle pleasure.

Kyle's retracting cock either popped out of Sadie's butt or it was forced out by Pietr slow plowing of Sadie's puss.

Sadie tilted her head back and twisted her chin until she could exchange slow, lippy kisses with Kyle behind her.

Ivy's blood pressure spiked again. She wasn't sure what kind of animal rape she had just witnessed, but this soft afterglow intimacy of the three was amazing. That was something Ivy's inner self screamed in anguish to know. And it had been there for the taking for days, and now she was seeing the cost of her too-cautious, too-chaste, too-hardheaded Ivy O'Brienness.

Sadie was a languid cat, the arches of her feet flexing at the gift of being back under their own agency once again. Her expression was an Instagram caption of "Bliss." She was eating up the slow boy attention surrounding her, and why the hell wouldn't she? Kyle's fingertips were making goosebump trails on her arms and neck. Pietr's loving kiss suctions on her breasts were sheer artistry.

"Oh look at Lookey-Luicille there!" Sadie nodded at Ivy's face pressed through the doorway.

"Yeah, she's been there for a while," Kyle said.

The way Pietr snapped his head, it was clear that Ivy's presence was news to him.

Sadie smiled and combed Kyle's thick hair between her fingers. "Why don't you bring her over here and have her lick your spunk out of me."

Kyle sighed. "No, that's not Ivy."

"No thanks," Ivy muttered.

"You could make her," smiled Sadie. "It'd be fun."

Kyle began extracting himself from the sex knot. "No. She's too young to force into girl-girl. That's not who she is. Not yet."

Sadie pretended to pout. "I was eleven when you two made me lick my first pussy."

"That was a different place and a different time." Kyle found his jeans on the floor and started shimmying into them.

Pietr gave Sadie some tongue-heavy kisses and let his cock finally slop out of Sadie's stretched fuckhole, followed by a gurgling white torrent of Pietr's cum.

Pietr eased off the bed and Sadie rolled onto her side. "What was going on before I got here that the boys were so wound up?" She asked Ivy. "It's like they hadn't busted their nuts in a week, they went at me so hard!"

Ivy shrugged.

"Well lucky me," Sadie smiled.

"Lucky you," Ivy muttered.

"Pee and I have got to get some work done and pay some bills," said Kyle as he slid a shirt over his perfect chest. "We've got cats to kill and contracts to fill. You two amuse yourselves for a while."

"What's your hurry," Sadie said. "How about I lick Ivy's pussy while you two watch? I bet that would get you revved up again."

"I'm good, thanks," growled Ivy. But she wasn't really good. Her pussy was throbbing for attention. Just not girl attention.

"If Kyle makes you, you'd have to let me," smiled Sadie, sticking out the longest lizard tongue Ivy had ever seen. It was freakish. Ivy realized what Sadie said just might be true. It was hard to fathom, but if Kyle demanded Ivy perform a sex act that she didn't want to do, like oral sex on a girl or taking his dick in her butt, would she really be able to say no? The boys could make her do pretty much anything. They made that clear her first day in town when they tossed her back and forth like a rag doll. They already made her do a lot that she had never done before, like sucking cocks and talking dirty. But as it turned out, Ivy actually liked all that.

Kyle's eyebrows made a thick line. "I'm ordering you to stop ordering me to order other people to do stuff they don't want to do."

"Oh, be that way," pouted Sadie. "You sure you don't want your pussy licked, Ivy? We don't need the boys to have a good time."

Ivy wanted very much to have her pussy licked, but not by Sadie.

"Maybe later," Ivy lied, trying to sound cool. She sounded as hurt as she was.

Ivy sat on a wicker chair on the lanai. Her brain was a mixmaster of confused and jealous thoughts. The way Kyle had acted all day with his secret code smirks, and making out at the beach, and band practice at Dale's... Ivy had let herself believe that he was into her. Wasn't he? Were all those signals some kind of head trauma delusion? Hs beautiful cock was absolutely a brick in her hand when they made out at the beach. She was so ready to forget Tad and give herself to Kyle. And she was WAY cuter than Sadie, wasn't she?

That Dominic guy seemed to think so. Sadie looked at the phone number in her palm and laughed at the irony. There was one guy on the planet who was really into her, and she had his phone number but no phone to call him.

That wasn't fair, though. Pietr was into her. And he was a sweetheart. But when Little Miss Fuckmepants spread her legs, he proved he was just another guy, ready to fuck anything willing to fuck him back. Turns out Ivy wasn't that special to him after all. For all his sad words, he was just looking for an easy hole for his horny dong.

Speak of the devil.

Sadie walked out onto the lanai wearing a silk robe. She a glass of white wine in each hand. She handed Ivy one of the glasses and sat in the other wicker chair.

"I'm not really a drinker," Ivy said.

"I know," Sadie nodded. "You're a square peg. Everybody understands. But it's Riesling. It tastes like grape juice. You'll like it."

Ivy took a sip. It tasted nothing like grape juice. She took another sip and decided it was the least offensive alcohol she'd encountered in her short history of experimentation.

"Christ, it's humid," Sadie said. She folded her feet under her thighs, When she turned to the side, Ivy could see her bare breast peeking through the gap and realized Sadie was still naked under the robe. "We think it's bad in Georgia. Then we come here and...."

"It's oppressive," Ivy nodded. "But I'm almost used to it now."

"I'm never going to get used to it." Sadie lifted her nose and tipped her glass. "So which brother are you most into?"

Ivy froze. It was the most tricky of all trick questions. She wasn't sure which answer was the one that would serve her where Sadie was concerned.

"I've got a guy back home," Ivy said.

"Bitch please," Sadie smiled. "I've got three guys. The three of 'em together don't add up to one of the Kisselhoff brothers." She sipped. "Gary's pretty good, though. Older men generally are. You know I'm fucking Gary, right?"

Ivy bit her lip. Jennifer's words echoed in her ears and it finally made sense.

"He's all alone with my Sadie back in Doraville. She's a year older than you, but she's got a sassy mouth on her, too. I'm sure Daddy Gary will have made a little progress with her by the time I get back."

"That's got to be tricky," Ivy said. "Jenny doesn't strike me as a girl who shares well." Ivy impressed herself with how calmly she said this.

Sadie snorted. "At her age? You know how hard it is for a woman her age to find a man, much less keep him? If I'm the sugar that sweetens the deal-that-is-Gary, she's not going to say 'boo.' Besides, you won't believe this, but where Gary and me are concerned, I'm very discreet. I don't rub it in her face. We have an understanding."

"Somehow, I don't think Jenny has any problem snagging men," Ivy said.

"She does. They all do. Look at Kelly Dawn. She's fucking hot for a woman half her age, and she's still single. Your mom's adorable and holding up well. She getting any action?"

Ivy thought about this. "She's still putting things back together."

"I'll take that as a no," Sadie said. "The pool of single men worth dating shrinks away by the time a woman is in her mid thirties," Sadie said. "All the available dick at that age is either gay or broke or bitter. Good luck finding one with a half-decent job. And finding one who can fuck worth a damn? You might as well be hunting unicorns."

The back door opened and Pietr stuck his head out. "There you are. Phone call." Pietr held Ivy's phone out to her. It had been so long she almost didn't recognize it.

"Thanks," Ivy took the phone. "Hello?"

It was Beth O'Brien's voice.

"Hey mom." Ivy stood, not sure where to go for a private conversation.

Sadie stood. "Stay," she said. "You can have the room."

"Who is that?" Beth asked. "I heard a female voice."

"Jenny's daughter Sadie," Ivy mumbled. The door closed behind Sadie. "She kind of invited herself down to stay."

"You're kidding!"

"Or maybe Jenny sent her. I don't know."

"Huhn," said Beth O'Brien flatly. "I'm not sure I'd trust her around boys the brother's age."

You shouldn't trust her around men of any age, thought Ivy. "So how's your cruise?"

"It's a lot of fun. We had really good cruising weather on the way out. The rooms are a lot smaller than I thought they'd be. Not much bigger than a closet. I spend most of my time ondeck."

"How's Cuba?"

"Uhm. It's okay. It's beautiful. Just..."

"Just what, Mom?"

"I don't know. It's way more expensive than I would have guessed. A third world country, you'd think a US dollar would go farther."

"Isn't all that included in the cruise package?"

"Some. Most of the cool stuff is extra. The Havana nightclubs are extra. And you like have to buy an overpriced bottle of rum for every two people at the table. You have to tip everybody, and not like Mexico tips. Like New York City tips."

"Oh wow," Ivy said. She thought again about how much extra money Beth kept in her budget when Gary was subsidizing their entertainment. Ivy remembered all the times Gary gave her a $20 bill to go to the movies with Poke. "That kind of sucks."

"I'm not complaining," Beth sighed. "It's been a great trip so far. We're going into the sugar fields tomorrow. That should be cool."

"You meet anybody on the ship? Any single guys?"

Beth sighed again, deeply. "Yeah, but no one I'm really into. They're either too old or too young."

"Finding guys your age is tough, isn't it?"

Beth laughed. "Enjoy your youth, Ivy Paige. Meeting single guys is never going to be as easy as it is right now."

"If you say so," Ivy said.

"What's wrong?"

"Absolutely nothing," Ivy lied.

"Are you fussing with the Kisselhoff boys?"

"Oh no. They are gracious hosts. They are making me eat their no carb, no sugar diet. It's actually not terrible. I haven't weighed in, but I think I've already lost a couple pounds."

"You don't need to lose weight," Beth scolded. "But there's something else. Something in your voice."

"Nope. Everything is fine."

"They've got a lot going on, don't they?"

Ivy laughed. "Those two... The most structured human beings I've ever met."

Beth laughed. "Kelly Dawn said she was afraid they might be too busy to properly pay attention to you."

Ivy bit her lip. Not going to touch that one with a ten foot pole, she thought.

There was a commotion on Beth's end of the phone. "Hey baby, the girls are here. We're going to see the comedian hypnotist guy."

"Okay. Have fun."

"Ivy Paige?"

"What?"

"I love you." Beth said it like she really meant it.

"I love you too, Mom."

"I've been thinking about things. Wait. Hang on." Ivy heard a door closed. "I had to step in the bathroom. Couldn't hear myself think. Anyway, I've been thinking a lot about everything that happened. You know. With... You know. Tad. I could have handled it better than I did. I always thought you could do better than Tad. Just, yaknow. Momness. I shouldn't have stepped in like that to interfere with your relationship. It was unfair."

Ivy had a moment to wonder if her mother was daydrinking. "I understand," Ivy said. "I actually honestly understand what you are saying."

"I don't know what possessed me to blow up your thing with Tad like that," Beth said.

"I do," Ivy said. "It was payback. For blowing up your relationship with Gary."

A long silence ensued.

"I don't know what to say to that," Beth O'Brien finally broke the stalemate of silence. "I'm not saying you're right, but I'm not saying you're wrong, either."

"You don't owe me any explanations," Ivy said. "Go watch your comedian. But don't let him hypnotise you! He'll accidentally erase your memory and you won't remember this conversation and my brain will explode."

"Fair enough," Beth said. "Be good."

"I'm as good as my options," Ivy said. "So I might as well join a convent."

Beth O'Brien laughed. "The Kisselhoff boys like older girls. Don't take it personally. I have to go, Babygirl."

Ivy looked at her own reflection in the black mirror of the silent phone. She turned it over in her hands. Felt its weight. She rubbed Pietr's huge fingerprints off the glass with the hem of her shirt. Crazy how much she missed an inanimate object. But she didn't miss the drama that tended to travel with it. There was no reason she couldn't call Tad. Probably should call Tad.

And say what?

"Hi Tad. I gave a couple of guys a blowjob, because I probably didn't have a choice and I'm breaking up with you, Tad, because... Because... They really aren't into me but I'm into them. Or Kyle. Or maybe Pietr too, a little."

She really wanted to talk to Poke.

Where would Ivy even start that conversation?

"Poke, you remember those dorks? They are fitchy yum-yums now."

Ivy took a long look at Dominic's number written on her palm.

After the heart-to-heart with Beth, did she even have the bandwidth to properly flirt with another boy? She'd already cheated on Tad three times. Would a makesesh with Dominic be a shark jump? Or just another cheat and just another wave of David Banford's swishy wrist of infidelity absolution?

"Knock knock," Ivy stuck her head around Pietr's bedroom door.

Pietr looked up from his desk. He was wearing glasses. Now instead of looking two years older than his actual age, he looked ten years older. He looked like a young dad. He had a Khan Academy video on his monitor and two yellow legal pads filled with crazy notations that looked like Pietr was planning a moon landing.

"Whatcha doing?" Ivy asked.

"Differentials," Pietr mumbled. "Little busy, Ivy."

"Here," Ivy held out the phone.

Pietr shrugged. "Keep it."

"What?" asked Ivy. "Really?"

Pietr looked back at his legal pads and started calculating something. "You're cool. We can trust you."

"Oh." It had been an act of trust for Ivy to give the phone back without cheating on the terms of her forfeiture. She expected some show of respect for doing the right thing. But Pietr was distracted and indifferent. It was yet another rejection. Ivy was disappointed. "Okay thanks."

Pietr didn't look up.

Ivy waited for him to say something else. He didn't. She turned to leave. "Hey one sec," she said. She held up the phone and thumbed to the camera.

Pietr saw what she was doing and pulled his glasses off.

"Smile," Ivy said.

"I don't smile," Pietr said.

The phone flashed. Ivy checked the afterimage. Pietr was adorable, but you couldn't really see "Pietr" in the Pietr depicted in the photo. He looked like a handsome accountant with a wide chest and thick arms. Not so much the Greek sculpture that he was.

"Uhm, would you take off your shirt?" Ivy asked.

"No," said Pietr flatly. "And no nudes. Not of me, Kyle, or anyone, okay? Promise me."

"Okay," Ivy said.

"No, I want you to say that you promise." Pietr looked serious.

"Okay," Ivy rolled her eyes. "I promise. Sheesh. You work so hard for that body of yours, I just figured you'd be proud of it."

"I am proud," Pietr put back on his glasses. "But throwing careless shit around the Internet is stupid. That stuff can always come back to bite you in the ass."

Ivy stopped by Kyle's room. Kyle was also doing a Kahn Academy at his computer, but Sadie was reading an Us Weekly on Kyle's bed.

"That's absurd," Sadie said. "It's diet soda."

"Still worse for you than regular soda," Kyle scribbled some notes without looking up.

"It has zero calories!" Sadie insisted. "It has zero sugar!"

"It has artificial sugar," Kyle muttered.

"How can it be bad for you if it has zero calories?"

"Because your liver doesn't know the difference between cane sugar and Splenda sucralose. It triggers the same insulin response in your pancreas. It isn't sugar that makes you fat. It's insulin."

"Hey Kyle," Ivy interrupted.

Kyle looked up and smiled. Ivy's heart thrummed. "Whatcha need, Cuteness?"

"I just wanted to get a photo of you. Is that okay?"

"Sure!" he said brightly. "What do you want? Goofy? Sexy? Playful? Coquettish?"

"I don't know what 'coquettish' is," said Ivy. "I just wanted something to send to Poke."

"Oh," Kyle said. "I have just the thing. Hang on." He flipped the page of his legal pad and scrawled something on a new page in big, sweeping letters. He ripped the page out and held it up across his chest. He cocked an eyebrow and dipped his nose. His expression was smirky and smouldering at the same time."

Ivy grinned and snapped the picture. It was perfect. Kyle's expression was priceless, and the fancy handwriting on the page anticipated Poke's reaction of disbelief.

'SUP, PAULETTE?

Just perfect!

"Wait a minute!" shouted Sadie. "I want a picture too! All of my pictures of you are a year old."

Ivy rolled her eyes.

Kyle was a good sport and waited for Sadie to snap the photo with her phone.

"Hang on," said Sadie. "Ivy let me get one of you too. Wave to Gary!"

Ivy had every intention of waving to Gary with her middle finger. Somehow in the lifting of her arm, she changed her mind. She made a sheepish smile and showed her palm.

Sadie checked the picture. She smirked at something, quite pleased with her slutty self.

Ivy returned to the lanai. She added the brothers' photos to a text to Poke. Ivy was going to send it and say nothing. Then she was going to count the seconds until Poke rang her back and lost her everlovin' mind.

But Ivy's phone rang before she could hit Send. Ivy did not recognize the number.

"Hello?"

"Oh my God! You answered!" It was Zooey.

"Hey girlfriend!" Ivy was delighted to hear Zooey's voice. She didn't know Zooey super well, but she knew that Zooey was cool. Zooey was a future version of Poke.

"Heyya, Ivy! You got your phone back!"

"How did you get my number?"

"Pietr's phone was dead when he tried to text me yesterday. Your phone was locked in his drawer, so he texted me on yours instead. I just tried to call his phone and he didn't answer."

"He's doing math lessons on his computer. He was kind of grumpy when I tried to talk to him," Ivy said. "I think that's the story of how I ended up with my phone back. He just couldn't even, yaknow?"

"Mmm-hmmm," Zooey said. "I know exactly how Moody Marvin rolls."

"I'll take the phone up to him. Hang on."

"No," Zooey interrupted. "Talking to you is even better. That way I can keep my embargo going a little longer against the boys."

"Why are you mad at Pietr?" Ivy asked. "He's not the one who got you in trouble."

"He could have doubled me," Zooey said. "And besides, those two are OPEC. They stick together even when the other one is screwing up. They want to hang together, they can suffer together."

"Ewwww-kay," Ivy shrugged.

"Anyway. Tell Pietr that Wexley just stacked out like fifty empty sod pallets by the west entrance to the new development. It's right by the trash dumpsters, so I think they can grab them without getting in trouble. Don't wait. They need to get moving now. Trash truck will probably haul it all away tomorrow morning."

"Okay. I think I have that." Ivy said.

"You okay, darling?"

Ivy sighed. "Yeah. I'm good."

"You fucking the brothers?"

"Er... Not exactly. I sucked them both. But they haven't fucked me. Not yet."

"What does that mean?" Zooey asked. " 'Haven't fucked you yet?' Are you waiting on them to make the first move?"

"Er... Yeah. Of course."

"No honey. They won't do that with you. You're a protected species right now. You're a Cuban Sandhill Crane. No touchie-touchie, and no running over you with their cocks. You're younger than they usually play. They'll have different rules for you. They won't do anything to you until you climb up on them and make it perfectly clear you are ready. Then after that, after you give yourself to them willingly... Well... At that point you kind of belong to them. If you're lucky. Then they'll take you whenever they take a notion."

Ivy blinked. "Oh. Okay. That makes sense. That explains things a little."

Zooey smiled with her voice. "Honey, you are super cute. I know those two both want a turn at you. Don't worry about that part. Just make the first move and they will do the rest."

"Check that."

"Would you mind if I call you from time to time, Ivy? Not about the boys, but just checking in? I like you. You're cool. I'd like to keep up with you after you go back to Atlanta."

Ivy was delighted. "Absolutely."

Ivy told Pietr that Zooey said there were a ton of soiled papers at Bexterford by the dump. And Zooey said they won't get in trouble.

Pietr blinked and pulled off his glasses, trying to make sense of what Ivy had said. Then he did. His eyes went big and he ran for Kyle's door, almost bulldozing little Ivy in the process.

"Kay! Kay! Zee says there are a bunch of sod pallets near the Wexley dumpsters. Says she thinks they are fair game."

Kyle's eyes also got big. "Since when do we care about fair or legal? Let's go!"

"Uhm," Ivy said, "I think she said there were like fifty of them."

"Wow!" Pietr checked his watch. "We can't be there in the dark or we'll run into Johnny Law for sure."

Kyle nodded. "We could use some help. Would either of you ladies mind pulling apart some wooden pallets with a crowbar?"

Sadie rolled on her back and held her magazine over her face like a tent. "No habla manual labor, Señor."

The boys looked at Ivy.

Ivy shrugged. It didn't sound like fun, but for once she could do something for the brothers that didn't involve a penis in her mouth. "Sure. Any chance I could get some gloves or something?"

Pietr grabbed Ivy and tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of lambs. He ran down the stairs and through the garage.

Soon Ivy was in the middle of a new home development, surrounded by half framed homesteads and bulldozers left behind when the construction crews left for the day. There were a lot of pallets and not much sunset left in the sky.

Pietr gave Ivy a pair of gardening gloves and a crowbar. He showed her how to remove the thin strips of lumber from the larger vertical fins of the pallet without breaking the delicate ends off the thin lumber strips they wanted to keep. "Don't worry about the nails still in the boards," Kyle said. "We'll get those out later. Just throw the small boards in the bed of the truck."

"What the heck do you want with this crappy wood?" Ivy asked, prying up a stubborn board. "It can't be good for anything."

"You must never watch home renovation shows," Pietr said. "This stuff is gold. Reclaimed pallet wood walls are the rage."

Ivy froze and looked at the pallet she was disassembling. "This stuff? This is reclaimed pallet wood? I've seen those walls. They are really cool. But this dirty wood doesn't look anything like what I've seen on the Build-It Channel."

"It will after we sand it and stain it with urethane," Kyle said.

Pietr looked happier than any time Ivy could remember. "We should have enough to finish off Mrs. Fong's powder room and Mr. Doxxie's man cave accent wall! With enough left over to bid another small project!"

Kyle smiled. "Yeah! Cha..."

Pietr finished: "...Ching!"

As fast as the boys worked, and as sincerely as Ivy tried to help, breaking down pallets was hard work. They were losing to the fading sunlight in the western horizon and there were no streetlights in the new construction subdivision yet.

The sound of car tires coming to a stop in the street behind them alarmed Ivy. She thought it was a cop. It was a yellow Mustang. A young woman stepped out. "Hey Kyle. Hey Pietr."

Ivy looked at the girl and knew right away. Before the boys said...

"Hey Molly!" Pietr waved and smiled.

Molly Ardman, the skank Zooey warned Ivy about. That unfortunate nose. She had incredible knockers, an impossibly small waist, a perfect heart-shaped bubble ass, gorgeous black hair... And the long, wandering nose of an aardvark. Without the unfortunate nose, Molly Ardman was a nine-point-seven sexpot. With the nose, she was a seven-point-skank. Molly Ardman dressed like a store mannequin at Lululemon, so she was a skank with good taste. The athletic wear was tight and left little doubt that Molly Ardman had an ass that made boys crazy and tits that made them drool.

Kyle and Molly had some kind of chemistry. He stopped disassembling pallets and moseyed on over to Molly with his chest and butt in a slow, opposing countersway swagger like the cowboy from an old movie.

"Hey sexy!" Kyle hugged down on Molly Ardman.

"Hey yourself," she smiled. "Whatcha doing out here in the dark?"

"Casing the place," Kyle said. "Digging some secret tunnels that we're going to use for second story cat burglary heists when the houses in the development are finished."

Molly Ardman played along, nodding. "That is some serious long term planning. Very... ambitious."

"We like the long con," Kyle said matter-of-factly, "Ocean's 11 stuff. Pietr's working on the part where he has to backflip off a trampoline through a bunch of lasers. He sucks, but we figure we've got about two more years to work that part out before the development is done and we start breaking into safes and stealing jewels and bearer bonds and stuff."

Molly Ardman smirked in a way that only smitten girls smirk.

Ivy realized she was witnessing something that would concern Zooey. And Zooey did ask Ivy to try and keep the skank away from the brothers.

"So why can't I ever get you to call me back?" asked Molly Ardman. "I was beginning to wonder if you left the country after school let out for the summer. All I've heard from you is your voicemail."

Kyle smiled a sexy smile. "Well I'm here now. You're here now. Let's talk a little bit about the now. You got somewhere to be tonight?"

Ivy exhaled in disgust. Manwhore on the prowl.

Ivy had to think fast. She was failing Zooey. Noting that Molly Ardman had not so much as taken her eyes off Kyle for a second since she stepped out of her car. Ivy unbuttoned the bottom two buttons of her shirt and tucked the flaps into the sides of her shorts, exposing her belly button, which she pushed out while tucking her shoulders back.

"Who yew talkin' too, Kylebear?" Ivy said in an exaggerated hillbilly accent. Ivy waddled over to Kyle and put her arm around his waist. "This one of yer fancy city friends?"

Molly Ardman's eyes thinned. "Hello, and you are?"

"Ahm Ivy!" Ivy said brightly. "I'm Kylebear's baby momma! See, I'm prayg-nunt!"

Kyle looked down at Ivy and laughed uncomfortably. He pulled Ivy's fingers away from his side. "Ha. Ha. She's kidding."

"Yew know I aint kiddin'," Ivy said. "You the one that dun put yer pecker up in me and made a baby! Aint that right, Kylebear! We're getting married!"

"That's enough," grimaced Kyle. "Joke's over."

But Molly Ardman wasn't entirely sure Ivy was joking. She stared intently, trying to parse whether or not Ivy was goofing on her.

"I should probably head out," Molly said apologetically.

"What?" Kyle exclaimed. "This is a joke. She's joking. C'mon, what are you doing? Where are you going?"

"Bah!" waved Ivy. "Nice t'meet Kylebear's freeeends! C'mon t' the weddun. I'm reg'stered at the Wall Marts!"

Molly Ardman backed into her car seat, confused. She shut the door behind her and took one more moment to try and make sense of what she was seeing before she put the car in reverse and pulled away.

"What the fuck was THAT?" Kyle shouted at Ivy. "The fuck are you DOING, Cockblocker McGee?"

Ivy snapped her fingers impatiently and marched back the pallet she was disassembling. "C'mon, Kyle. We're burnin daylight. Cats to kill and contracts to fill. Get back to work. Got a dime holdin' up a dollar." It was an amalgamation of Kylespeak and things Gary used to say. Kyle was pissed, but Ivy didn't care. Her loyalty was to Zooey. Mission accomplished. She was hot and sweaty and pretty soon she wouldn't be able to see the crowbar in front of her face.

And besides, it was Ivy's plan to fuck Kyle before she ended the day. It was uphill enough to have to wait on a recharge from his threesome with Sadie. Ivy was determined not to have Kyle's hard cock stolen away twice in one night. He'd be over his mad fit soon enough.

"Pietr, did you see that shit?" Kyle shouted.

Pietr nodded. "That's why God gave you hands and YouPorn. C'mon. She's right. We're losing daylight. Get back to work."

"The flying fuck!" grumbled Kyle on the way back to his crowbar.

Ivy's hands were sore, even after she finished showering. Kelly Dawn's gardening gloves had helped, but not a lot. The boys were still in the garage, hammering nails out of the pallet wood planks. Ivy yawned. She was drifty and tired. The air conditioning felt like a blessing and chipped away at her determination to mount Kyle before the sun came up. She could easily drop into a mattress and drift, given the opportunity.

Sadie was watching Soul Food Smackdown! on the Food Channel of the downstairs television. As soon as Ivy could grab some underwear from the guest room, she would camp out on Kyle's bed to make sure Sadie didn't have a chance to usurp her plans once more.

The garage door slammed and somebody trundled up the stairs. Ivy pulled her panties on, struggling to get them up over damp thighs.She pulled Kyle's graphic T over her head and padded barefoot toward the stairs.

The TV was off. Sadie was gone.

"No. No," Ivy muttered to herself. But at the top of the stairs she could see Sadie sitting on the edge of Kyle's bed, dropping her robe into the floor. She was completely nude. The shower hissed down the hall.

"Uh, I'm calling dibs on Kyle tonight," Ivy said. "You already had a turn."

Sadie smiled and stretched out on the bed. "And I'm ready for another. There's room on the other side of Kyle, if you want to double him. No doubt he can do us both with no problem." Sadie tapped her lips with a big fake fingernail. "But then again, he did come super hard earlier in my ass, so..."

"I'm calling dibs," Ivy said.

"You can call anything you like," Sadie said. "But I was here first. Second bitches get seconds. I'll sleep with Pietr tomorrow, okay? But tonight it's share or Pietr or the fold out bed downstairs."

"I'm not sleeping on that piece of crap," Ivy said.

Sadie frowned. "That's a terrible thing to call Pietr."

"You know what I mean," Ivy said. "Desdemona."

"Desde-what? Oh that schtick about the mattress? You fell for that? Kelly Dawn bought a fifteen hundred dollar memory foam mattress for that convertible. Did they put that sack of rags on it and tell you the thing about how it's a terrible mattress?"

Ivy felt her face flush.

"Don't feel bad," Sadie smiled. "They do that to everybody. Did they get you with their trick digital scale and Pietr's little adjustment app on his too? Trick you into thinking you somehow put on fifteen pounds on the plane?"

Ivy's ears burst into flames. "No," she lied.

"Hey cockblocker," Kyle walked past Ivy, drying with a towel, but completely naked and his dong at half mast.

Ivy stared at Kyle. He wasn't really still mad about Molly Ardman. By the time they drove back from the construction site, he was already thanking her for helping pry the wood apart. He was just teasing.

But Ivy was peeved.

"What?" Kyle looked at Ivy. "What's up with you? Why's your face red?"

"She just found out that she fell for your mattress and scale bullshit," Sadie said.

Kyle cringed and smiled sheepishly. "Whoopsie!"

"You butthole," Ivy muttered.

"Guilty," Kyle smiled, ever charming. "You coming in with Sadie and me? Or you shacking up with Pietr?"

"I think I'll take my chances with the fold-out couch," Ivy grumbled.

"Suit yourself," Kyle shrugged. He pushed the door closed on Ivy. A second later the light under his door went dark and the bedsprings creaked. A moment later there were kissing sounds.

"A-frickin-MAZING," Ivy muttered. She stomped down the stairs and into the guest room. She yanked the cushions off the hide-a-bed. She attempted to pull the bed up-and-out from the couch but either her hands were too sore, or she just wasn't strong enough to do it. She growled out frustration, feeling her Irish temper start to get the best of her.

Ivy grabbed her phone and started out to the lanai to sit in the humid breeze until the steam stopped pouring out of her ears. She wondered if Poke was still awake. She probably was. Ivy opened up her chat client and saw the unsent pictures of the brothers she had been about to fire off to Poke when Zooey called.

Kyle's stupid expression. Three hours ago, it was textbook 'dorbs. Now looking at that smarmy photo of his dipped chin and cocked eyebrown just made Ivy livid all over again. She swiped up to the photo of Pietr and his serious expression. He really was a handsome boy. Ivy thought about his professions to her in the truck. She thought about how nice his kisses were. How strong he was, but in such a gentle way.

Ivy thought about Pietr's blowjob lesson, and how patient he was with her, even when Ivy was chewing up his dick. Even when Pietr fucked her throat, he somehow did it in a really nice way, challenging her gag reflex but not brutalizing her with his power and hardness.

Ivy sighed. Misery bounced the lanai door open with her head and looked at Ivy. She woofed a question.

"Okay," Ivy said. "You're right. I'm coming in."

Pietr was taking his turn in the shower when Ivy relocated to his bed. She stripped down to her birthday suit, lay in the dark, and listened to the semi-muffled sound of Sadie being fucked senseless across the hallway.

It should have been Ivy. If she'd just stripped naked and jumped in Kyle's bed... Why did she think she was supposed to put on underwear and a shirt, anyway? Kyle was just going to make her take it right back off. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Jeez!

Pietr flipped on the light and seemed genuinely surprised that Ivy was in his bed. He was wearing a towel wrapped around his waist as a terry cloth kilt, which somehow was way sexier than Ivy would have ever guessed a strategic towel placement could be.

Pietr respectfully switched the room dark. "I guess I'm your consolation prize tonight, huh?"

The words stung Ivy. Mostly because it was true.

"Or maybe I'm yours," Ivy said. "You ever think about it that way? Can you close the door, please? I can't listen to those two go at it all night."

"Sure." Pietr closed his door and Ivy felt his mass move air about the room as he walked around to the far side of the bed and lowered in.

Ivy could see from the backlighted shadow that Pietr was on his side, his head under his elbow-propped hand, looking at her. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Looking at you."

"You can't see me in the dark."

"I can see you fine," Pietr said. "Moonlight clings to you in a jealous glow."

"Is that a poem?" Ivy asked. "It sounds like a poem."

"Not a poem," Pietr said. "But you are."

Ivy turned and looked back at Pietr's shadow. "That was sweet. You're actually very sweet, Pietr."

"I have my moments," Pietr said.

"But you're a guy too," Ivy's voice went cold. "I can't believe you went at Sadie like that."

Pietr sighed. "Yeah. I guess I'm a guy. When a girl throws herself at you, it's hard to say no. Especially when you don't have a reason to say no. Like, say, if I had a girlfriend."

"Why don't you have a steady?"

"Too busy, mostly."

"Mostly?"

"Ah. Youknow. There were a couple girls who... Let's just say there were a couple times I let myself fall for a girl and then I just figured out that I was a Kyle substitute for them. I'm the Kisselhoff Brother you can date when the Kisselhoff Brother you want to date doesn't seriously date anyone."

Ivy felt herself stabbed in the heart by Pietr's too-true words once again. She didn't know what to say.

"So you okay with what you saw after dinner? Did it shock you?" Pietr asked.

"You mean watching you two going at Sadie like dogs?"

"Yeah."

"No, it didn't shock me, exactly. It just made me un-com-fort-a-ble," Ivy said, mimicking the way Kyle had said the word when they finished tossing her around like a football on Day One. "Which means I'm adapting to something new, remember? Growing? It was kind of gross, Kyle screwing her butt. But she didn't seem to mind. So if everybody was happy, then mazeltov, I guess."

"Did you really come twice while you and Kyle were at the beach and you didn't even attempt to blow Kyle?" Pietr asked.

"What?"

"You heard me," Pietr said.

"There really are no secrets between you two, are there?"

"Well?"

"I didn't get the chance," Ivy said."I wanted to, but he was in a hurry to get to band practice."

"But not so much of a hurry," Pietr said, "that he couldn't get you off twice."

"Exactly," said Ivy. "He was so busy working me over, I couldn't please him."

"Er..." said Pietr. "Didn't he lick your pussy?"

Ivy blinked in the dark, unsure where this conversation was going. "Yeah?"

"And you couldn't turn around and suck some cock like a good girl while he was licking you?" Pietr asked.

"I--- I didn't--- I guess I could have done that."

"But you didn't?"

Ivy didn't answer.

"You're making me look like a bad blowjob teacher," Pietr said.

"I've only had one lesson," Ivy said.

"True," Pietr said calmly. "I didn't realize that I had to teach you that a hard cock is a girl's solemn responsibility. One that you should take seriously."

"Okay," Ivy mumbled. "Now I know."

"Do you?" Pietr asked. "What about me? Is my cock hard right now? You are naked in the bed of a horny guy and just laying there. Why don't you know if the cock you are responsible for is hard and needy or not? Why are you lying there not doing anything?"

"I... I don't know."

"You don't know what?" Pietr's voice was showing annoyance.

"I don't know if your cock is hard."

"Why not? We had a discussion about your responsibilities as a girl not 30 seconds ago. You said you understood."

"Okay."

"Okay what?" Pietr demanded.

Ivy's head spun trying to figure out Pietr's cryptic message. Then she finally realized what she was doing wrong. Her left hand pushed under the sheet toward Pietr's groin. His hand locked around her wrist before she could reach his cock.

Pietr leaned in and his lips found Ivy's. He kissed her several times, not letting go of her wrist. Not allowing Ivy's hand to complete it's cockcheck.

His voice softened. "Yaknow, Ivy. I'm just trying to help you get what you really want. Even if it's not what I want, I still want you to be happy."

"I'll suck you now," Ivy said between kisses. She forgot how tired she was. Her thighs were heating up with need. "Or you could make love to me," she panted.

"I can do anything I want with you," Pietr said. "Can't I?"

"Yessss," Ivy hissed into his mouth. Her tongue yearned to rub against Pietr's. It searched in vain the void between Pietr's lips until it crashed against his rough softness. "Yesssss." Ivy had never felt like such a needy whore before. But of course, Tad Laurent was a long damn way from Pietr Kisselhoff in the Man department, so that probably accounted for a lot of why Ivy was melting away.

"Say it," Pietr growled. "Tell me I can do anything I want to you."

"You can do absolutely anything you want to me," Ivy whispered.

"Like what?" Pietr said. "I'm running short on imagination right now. What suggestions do you have for what I might want to do to you?" His kisses came faster and deeper. It was hard for Ivy to catch a nourishing breath, much less talk.

"You could make me suck your dick," Ivy whispered.

"I could," Pietr answered. "I most certainly could and I most certainly will. You still have a mandatory blowjob lesson every morning."

"You could make me do it now," Ivy said. "And then do it again tomorrow morning. Like extra credit. Or you could make love to me now."

"Make love to you?" Pietr mocked.

Ivy didn't care. Her pussy was bubbling with wet longing. If Pietr wanted dirty talk, that was fine with her. "You could fuck me," Ivy moaned. "You could fuck me on my back. Or on my hands and knees."

"That sounds intriguing," Pietr said. He let loose of Ivy's wrist.

A moment later Ivy's fingers closed around Pietr's big brick dick. Or at least her fingers attempted to close around it. Ivy's hands were small and Pietr's girthy manhood was formidable. Ivy marveled at the magnitude of hot boy flesh throbbing in her hand. Pietr was definitely into whatever was happening.

Pietr broke the kiss and stood from the bed. "Get in the floor," Pietr pointed to the spot in front of his upholstered chair. "Let's start with a nice cock sucking and see where we go from there."

Ivy's eyes had adjusted to the darkness. There was plenty of ambient streetlight coming through the window to see the task-at-hand taking his place in the chair before her. She saw the giant club stretched from Pietr's balls to his stomach. She reached up to grab it, but Pietr swatted her hand away.

"Ask," Pietr said. "May I please suck your cock."

"May I please suck your cock," Ivy whispered.

"Why are you whispering?" Pietr asked. "Are you ashamed of being my cocksucker?"

"No," Ivy whispered.

"You are still whispering," Pietr growled. "Listen. Hush up and listen."

Ivy went still. From Kyle's room Ivy could clearly hear the staccato sound of Sadie's loud moans being clipped by Kyle's dick pounding into her.

"Does that sound like a girl who's ashamed of being a cock pleaser for boys?" Pietr asked.

"No," Ivy said.

"Sadie got everything she wanted tonight. She's a good girl. She knows she's here to please men. And she was well rewarded for it," Pietr said. "You were not a good girl today. You need to up your game if you want to take attention away from that trained slut. Do you understand, Ivy?"

"I want to be a good girl," Ivy said. "I'll try harder."

"I hope so," Pietr said. "You're my student. Your skill is a reflection of me, now. I will not have you embarrassing me with this JV weak game of yours, Ivy."

"Okay. I'm sorry." Ivy said.

"You're not going to leave Kyle with a hard cock ever again are you, Ivy?"

"No."

"And you're sure as hell not going to ignore my cock again, are you?"

"No. I'm sorry."

"And after you leave us and go home. If you're lucky enough to be owned by another man, you're not going to ignore his cock ever, are you?"

Ivy let herself imagine being as submissive to Tad as she had become to the brothers. "No."

"So what are we going to do now?" Pietr asked.

"Suck your cock?" Ivy asked.

"We're going to suck my cock?"

"I'm going to suck your cock?" Ivy asked. "Or no. I mean... Can I suck your cock? Please?" The inside of Ivy's mouth was filling with drool. It was a magnet, compelled to latch onto the massive head of Pietr's dick.

Pietr nodded.

Ivy's lips pushed over the head and her tongue flattened to make room for more cock in her mouth. Pietr's hard manhood was steel fire, hot and smooth in the pocket of her mouth. She bobbed and sucked and slurped pleasure on as much of it as she could force in the back of her throat.

Pietr leaned forward and slapped Ivy's cheek. Once. Or rather, it was technically a slap, but didn't really hurt. It scared the shit out of her though.

"What did I teach you about moaning when you suck cock?"

Ivy moaned.

"I don't want to tell you again. I'm not going to start the lessons over every time I put you down on your knees. Next time I have to warn you about moaning, you're getting spanked."

Ivy moaned like a porn slut.

Pietr grabbed the base of his cock and pulled it out of Ivy's mouth. "Sex is communication. Say it."

"Sex is communication," Ivy whispered.

"Louder!"

"Sex is communication!"

Pietr nodded. "So communicate. Communicate the way a girl should communicate when she's got a maw full of hard man meat."

"Okay," Ivy nodded.

"Anything less is disrespectful, and I won't have it," Pietr said sternly.

"Okay," Ivy repeated.

"Stop saying 'Okay.' Say 'Yes, Sir.'"

"Yessir," Ivy said.

Pietr made a face. Ivy cringed, thinking he was going to hit her again. "No, never mind," Pietr said. "Sir doesn't sound right from you. Address me as Master. Say 'Yes, Master.'"

Ivy gulped. "Yes, Master."

"That's better." Pietr said. He grabbed the base of his fleshy club and presented the crimson head to Ivy's mouth once more. "Suck, bitch."

"Yes, Master," Ivy said. It felt crazy to say, but seconds later she was slurping away on the top of a hard cock and it didn't seem so crazy to call Pietr "Master." She had read her mother's copy of 50 Shades of Grey. She understood role playing. Ivy just never thought she'd be role playing so soon. And did Pietr just call her a bitch? And had she just pretended like she was okay with being called a bitch?

Wasn't she? Wasn't her pussy absolutely throbbing?

Pietr slumped back in his chair and let Ivy suck and moan until her jaw began to get stiff.

Ivy's tongue fixated on a little bump of skin just beneath the hole in the head of Pietr's cock. Pietr seemed to respond favorably to that attention. He breathed heavy and relaxed, huffing short grunts through his nostrils. Pietr's cock was flexing hard, testing her suction and her short arms on the carpet. The all-fours position was definitely meant to favor Pietr's command, not her service. Then it accidentally popped out of Ivy's mouth and smacked back against Pietr's stomach. Ivy was mortified, but instead of acknowledging her mistake, she immediately leaned in and licked Pietr's giant shaved nuts, like that was the plan all along.

"Master," Ivy said between licks. "Can I please stroke your cock?"

"Jaw getting tired?" Pietr asked.

"Yes, Master," Ivy answered.

Pietr hesitated. Then he leaned forward and Ivy braced for violence.

"Come up on your knees," Pietr said softly.

Ivy repositioned herself.

Pietr leaned and kissed down into Ivy's mouth. She melted again. Pietr grabbed her wrist and pulled it into his cock. Ivy immediately found the pleasure grip right behind the deep ridge of Pietr's cockhead and began jerking it. Pietr kissed harder and breathier. "You don't need any lessons for that," Pietr growled. "You're a damn good cockstroker."

"Thank you, Master," Ivy said between kisses. Her pussy was now en fuego. With her mouth transitioned from suckweary tension to the best kissing ever, and her hand chugging over the spit-slickened top of Pietr's baseball bat dick, the most right thing in the world would be if Pietr picked her up, threw her on the bed, and mounted that giant dick into her horny need hole.

Pietr was breathing harder through his nose, and Ivy realized that there might be some hot inevitably squirting all over her tits soon if she didn't do something. Ivy thought about what Zooey had told her, that the brothers would not make the first move.

Ivy climbed. She pushed to her feet, not missing a stroke of the hard hot cock in her fist, and not breaking the string of intense kisses that glued her to Pietr. She sent her right knee over Pietr's left thigh, then her left over his right. She broke the kiss train long enough to push her breasts into Pietr's face, and he knew exactly what to do. His big mitts clamped around both of her sex swollen tits and he traded off sucks that burned a fuse through her mid-section and tingled at the edges of her butthole where the tingling seemed to try to escape.

She pulled Pietr's cockhead up and into the cup of her raised pussy. The physics of Pietr's size against her smallness caught up with her. While the spit-wet cockhead felt amazing rubbing against her even wetter fuckhole, and the stretch of it actually managed to bend the bottom of her clitoris into a bit of a rub against Pietr's sticky cock skin, the meat was so massive that the next step of impaling herself on something so improbable finally stopped her.

She wiggled her butt in a circle while she kept an overhand grip in Pietr's giant dong. Surely this would get easier by the second. She was so wet, she could hear herself slathering over Pietr's hardness.

Pietr's hands dropped to close around Ivy's butt cheeks and Ivy knew it was going to happen. If he pulled her down onto his manhood, there was no resisting his strength. If Pietr was ready to fuck her, then she was going to be fucked.

And Pietr's hands did pull her hips down. And his cock did force it's way a bit further into her tight fuckbox. And it did definitely hurt like a sumbitch.

Pietr stopped. "I'm hurting you."

Ivy shook her head and tried not to grimace. "Just do it."

Pietr looked at her in the dark. "You sure?"

Ivy nodded. "Yes, Master. Please. Please fuck me."

Pietr kissed up into Ivy and pulled her down again.

But it was just too much. Too much for a girl pussy that had barely been fucked once before. Ivy tensed and screamed.

"It's never going to get any easier than this," Pietr said. "You're in control of how much you take."

"Sorry." Ivy panted. "I mean, sorry, Master. Just give me a second." Ivy took a deep breath and placed both of her hands on Pietr's broad shoulders while she wiggled her butt in a circle, testing the big cockhead that was pinned under her weight. "Okay. Okay, Master. I'm ready. Fuck me."

Ivy raised up. Ivy dropped down. All the way down. She could barely feel anything. Only the slightest sensation of something tickling her butthole. She turned around and saw Sadie on all fours with Pietr's cock in her mouth, her big hair right up in Ivy's bottom crack. She had grabbed Pietr's cock right out from under her as she was bouncing upward.

"Oh shit," Pietr moaned. "OH.... OHH.... Oh fuck, yeah!" His head snapped back and he smiled a dopey, contented smile.

Sadie was sex grunting the entire time she took Pietr's load. She stopped sucking, stood up, and pushed her face into Ivy's.

Ivy didn't understand why Sadie was trying to kiss her. Pietr did though and reached up and hinged Ivy's jaw open with a finger, pushing down on her bottom teeth.

Sadie tilted Ivy's baby bird mouth backward with a push to Ivy's nose. Sadie leaned in and spilled Pietr's semen right from Sadie's mouth into her mouth, along with a big wash of Sadie's own spit. When Sadie had emptied her mouth, Pietr released Ivy's teeth and Sadie pushed Ivy's chin up. Ivy had no choice but to swallow a giant load of second-hand spunk. There was a lot of it to swallow.

"Aces," Pietr sighed. "Thanks, ladies."

"Welcome," Sadie smiled. Then she was gone on her little cat feet, exiting as silent as she had entered the room.

Ivy flashed red with anger. She smacked her lips and coughed until her throat was clear of sticky cum. "Somebody put a frickin' bell on her, willya?"

Pietr smiled. Well, Pietr did something that qualified as smiling for Pietr. "You still horny."

Yes. Ivy was still insanely horny despite being mad.

Pietr didn't wait for an answer. His big hands wrapped around her butt and back through her legs. His fingers twiddled at her sopping twat. "Yep," Pietr answered his own question. "Your little pussy is revved up."

"Will you lick me?" Ivy asked.

Pietr's face went serious and he cocked an eyebrow. Ivy realized he was waiting for something more.

"Sorry!" Ivy blurted. "Will you please lick me, Master?"

"That's better." Pietr stood up from his chair, effortlessly lifting Ivy along with him as if she were a half-eaten bag of popcorn. Pietr dropped Ivy on the foot end of the bed and posed her on all fours, facing the headboard. Her shins and feet swam in open space over the foot end of the bed, her knees barely on the mattress. "Look at the clock," Pietr commanded. "In just a second it's going to turn over to 11:10. If you still haven't cum when the clock hits 11:15, then I'll give you the best pussy licking you've ever had. Is that what you want?"

"Yes, Master," Ivy said.

"Are you sure that's what you want? You want a pussy licking?"

"Yes, Master. I very much want my pussy licked."

"It's not your pussy, bitch," Pietr growled. "It's mine."

The tone of his voice sent shivers through Ivy, who felt incredibly vulnerable posed doggy without a good sightline to Pietr's face. "Yes Master."

"Bitch, all you have to do to get a pussy licking is not cum for five minutes. Got it?"

"Yes, Mast-- OH GAWD!"

The digital clock had changed to 11:10 and Pietr didn't hesitate a second. His talented fingers were all over Ivy's pussy folds, rubbing her clit high and low. An involuntary grunt forced its way up her throat in a hard blast.

Pietr responded by pushing a thick finger in Ivy's fuckhole. The stretch stung. Ivy's ears throbbed. Pietr began wiggling the finger against something needy within her love tunnel. Aside from the clit rubbing and Kyle's tongue, whatever he was doing was running a close third for Best Sensation Ever. Ten times better than when Poke dragged her fingernails down Ivy's back under her shirt. A tension began to build in waves that matched the pulling motion of Pietr's finger. The waves poured down her thighs.

Pietr pulled his finger out of her much too soon. He placed the flat of his finger on the tip of her clit and started a circling motion. "Oh Christ!" Ivy called out.

"You like that bitch?" Pietr said.

"Yes-es-es Mas-as-as-ter," Ivy panted.

"But you said you wanted to be licked," Pietr teased. "Doesn't my little slut pussy want a hot boy tongue on it, working it over?"

Yes. Yes, that is exactly what Ivy wanted more than anything in the world. She mumbled something to that effect, but her brain was short circuiting. Something barely audible dribbled out of her mouth in a slurry.

"But," Pietr teased. "You're still three and a half minutes away from a pussy licking. You're not going to cum on my fingers and miss out are you?"

"I-- I--- Oh GAWD! I want you to lick me, Master. Lick me and fuck me."

"You're a long way from that," Pietr said in a deep, velvet voice. "Your toes are curling. Your ass is shaking. Your knees are quivering."

Ivy squinted. She was ratcheting in on herself, going supernova. The sexy friction circle Pietr was drawing around her button was making her insane. But then the bastard had to go and start in with bossy talk in that deep, silky voice of his. It was that dirty talk that was stripping away her will. If he'd just shut up she might--

Pietr's finger mercifully left her clit. A second later a hand smacked her ass. Hard. Ivy yipped and stiffened in her doggy pose.

Then the finger was back in her fuckbox again, massaging that inner satisfaction spot with a wiggling insistence.

"Answer me, bitch," Pietr growled. "You going to cum, little slut?"

"I'm trying not to," Ivy panted.

"Good," Pietr said. Ivy could hear his smile. "Don't cum. Bitch. But you're so wet. You almost have to, don't you? You have to cum. You and my wet slut pussy. You're not going to make it to my tongue, are you?"

Dammit! Ivy was back on the edge of bliss. She looked up and the clock was still on 11:13. What the hell? It took her forever to rub herself off. Why was this boy so goddamn deep inside her head? Why was it so hard to not explode?

"Oh Master," Ivy whined, not able to put a defensive string of words together.

Then Pietr's finger pulled out of her vortex and started circling her clit again. Firmer this time. Faster this time. The bones in Ivy's neck turned liquid.

"Don't cum, pretty little bitch," Pietr growled. "Don't cum until Master says you can come. I'll beat that pink ass of yours if you cum too soon, bitch."

Ivy bit her own tongue to slow down the involuntary shaking in her legs and butt. Her toes were curled so tight that she could feel the tension in her floating calves. She definitely didn't want to be on the receiving end of any violent aggression from Pietr. But that voice. That command of his.

Pietr placed his free hand in the small of Ivy's back and pushed down, forcing her butt and pussy back into the stiff friction of Pietr's clit-rubbing finger.

"Yee-yeee-Yooooahhhhhahahah! Shit!" Ivy screamed. Her pussy connected a jumper cable to her scalp and both exploded in hot stars. "Ewwww gohd. Ewwww gohd." Ivy's groans dropped three octaves. She sounded like an animal. A barking seal. She couldn't stop. Pietr didn't stop rubbing. Ivy didn't stop grunting in wet agony.

Pietr stopped. He left his finger alongside Ivy's clit, not moving. Just the presence of it's firmness and warmth triggered aftershocks up Ivy's spine. "Ooooh Sweet Happy Jesus on a unicorn," Ivy grunted before collapsing off her all-fours pose.

Pietr walked out of the room. A moment later Ivy heard peeing. Then he was back. "I've got a full day tomorrow," Pietr said softly. "Climb in bed."

"Please don't hurt me," Ivy pleaded.

"What?"

"Please don't hurt me. I'm sorry. I had to cum. I couldn't help it."

"What?" Pietr repeated. "What are you talk-- Oh. For the love, Ivy. That was just bed talk. That was just me making you cum by talking smack."

"Oh," Ivy was confused. "I thought you were serious."

"Good. Always assume I'm serious. C'mon. Get on your side of the bed, girl. No, sex is communication, remember? Sex doesn't happen in dicks and pussies. It happens in the brain. I give your brain the bossy, dominant boy that it wants. You give my brain the sweet submissive girl I want. It's all good."

Ivy crawled to her pillow, still panting. "Oh, okay."

Pietr slipped in the sheets while Ivy panted and waited for her skin to cool off before covering up. Something didn't add up. "But you did. You hit me."

"What?" Pietr was clearly annoyed. "What are you talking about? Spanking your ass? You love that. Your pussy gushed when I spanked you."

"No, not spanking," Ivy said. "I did like that part. I mean when you slapped my face. For not moaning."

"Oh," Pietr said flatly. "Did I really hurt you?"

Ivy considered this. "No. But you hit me. In the face. You aren't supposed to hit girls."

Pietr turned toward Ivy and gently stroked her face with the back of his hand. "Sex is communication," Pietr said. "When I call you bitch, it isn't because I really think you're a bitch. When I call you a bitch, what I'm saying is 'Ivy, I own you.' And when you don't say anything about me calling you a bitch? You are saying 'Yes, Pete, you own me.' Sex is communication. And when I pretend-slap your face or for-real smack your ass, I'm saying 'Ivy you're mine and I can do with you as I please.' And when you say nothing, or when you give me more than you were giving me before, you're saying 'Yes, Pete, I am yours and you can do anything you want with me.'"

Ivy breathed in the dark and soaked in Pietr's words.

"That's not hitting you," Pietr emphasized. "And if you are ever with a guy who calls you a bitch or hits you to imply that he owns you, and the response in your head is 'No, buddy, you most certainly do not own me,' then you get the fuck away from that guy and stay the fuck away from that guy," Pietr said. "Even if it's me."

"Okay," Ivy whispered.

Pietr leaned over and kissed Ivy on the nose. He turned away and pulled the sheets over his shoulder.

Ivy's pussy was still in the last throes of spasming. She stared at the ceiling and wondered if anybody at Teen Cosmo had a comeback for what Pietr just said.

CHAPTER TWELVE: DOMINIC

Saturday morning at Haus Kisselhoff was not fundamentally different than any weekday morning had been. Pietr left in the dark and arrived back before Ivy was remotely ready to embrace consciousness. He kissed Ivy upon his return. He was already showered and wearing a towel around his waist.

"C'mon, baby," Pietr whispered. "Up and at 'em."

"Where we going?" Ivy rubbed her eyes.

"Where do you think?" asked Pietr. "Blowjob time."

"Again?" Ivy said. "I just gave you one five minutes ago."

"Uh huh. And now you're going to give me another one." Pietr said.

Ivy took inventory of herself. She was still too sleepy to be horny. But that didn't matter, did it? "Okay," she mumbled, tossing the sheets off. Pietr dropped his towel and took his place on his chair.

Ivy knelt in her spot and yawned. "Are you ready, Master?"

"Ready, Bitch," he said with a soft smile. Ivy had never been called a bitch more sweetly.

Ivy leaned in and slobbed Pietr's knob. It felt familiar in her mouth. If felt like it belonged. It felt like the top of Pietr's cock had been custom sculpted to fit the shape of her mouth. Ivy did not forget to fake moan.

"Wow, you're doing great," Pietr said. "Work on taking a little more. Challenge your throat a little."

Ivy did as she was told. The pressure against the back of her throat interrupted the fake moans, which were slowly transitioning into real moans as the pleasure of giving pleasure started to win-over her sleepiness.

"That is super nice, Ivy," Pietr said breathily before catching himself and saying, "I mean... Bitch."

Ivy looked up with curious eyes. Pietr looked down, sheepishly. He winked. It made the corners of Ivy's mouth bend upward around the pressure of her stretched lips. Ivy began to involuntarily drool at the warmth on her tongue, which triggered a lot of slurping between moaning.

Pietr's fingers tangled into the hair on the back of her head. They flexed slightly, pulling her throat onto his cock in gentle jabs. Nothing she couldn't handle in small doses.

Ivy's hand instinctively raised to stroke the bottom half of Pietr's dick. She remembered that was not allowed. So instead her fingertips gently rubbed at the front of Pietr's balls, balls that were considerably tighter and higher than they had been when she first went to her knees.

Pietr moaned. She'd done something right. As tight as his balls were, she expected to be getting a mouthful of cum at any second.

Then Pietr stood up. His cock popped out of Ivy's mouth unceremoniously as he raised up. Pietr looked down at Ivy, annoyed.

"Don't drop my cock," he said. "That's disrespectful."

Ivy still didn't understand. "Yes, Master."

Pietr made an upward motion with his fingers. "C'mon. Up on your knees. C'mon. Suck."

Ivy finally understood. She stretched up all the way on her knees and her mouth was barely high enough to meet Pietr's cock when he stood. Pietr widened his stance in a compromise. It made his muscular thighs pop. Ivy thought that was pretty cool.

She resumed sucking. Sucking from raised knees was a lot more strenuous than sucking from all fours. Her head moved more. She felt her breasts swinging with the effort. Her buns tightened in the effort to maintain her meerkat pose. Pietr's big hand was all over the back of her head, encouraging more motion. Ivy moaned harder and slurped more suction on the smooth cockhead in her mouth.

Pietr was totally into it now. His mouth was gaping slightly and his eyes were thinning. He was breathing heavy. Ivy lifted her fingers to Pietr's balls and they were practically part of his shaft, they were so high. His taste was salty and the precum was flowing. It wouldn't be long now.

Pietr suddenly took a step backwards out of Ivy's mouth. He pumped his cock with his hand. Ivy knew what came next.

Or so she thought.

Kyle stepped in next to Pietr. Ivy wasn't sure when he came in the room, but there he was, also naked and also yanking his crank furiously. The boys were shoulder to shoulder. Kyle stopped pumping his member and reached down to push Ivy's head into his works.

Ivy latched on to Kyle's dick and moaned and slurped hard at it.

"Oh, shityeah!" Kyle moaned. "So much better."

Ivy smiled and sucked away at Kyle's dick. She used the slightly smaller circumference as a chance to see if she could get more of Kyle in her mouth than she could Pietr. She wasn't sure if she could suck any more. It was hard to tell. Kyle was so hard, and his cock stabbed harder at the back of her throat. He wasn't as gentle as Pietr. He was thrusting his hips and fucking her throat quite hard.

Pietr reached down and grabbed Ivy's dominant left hand and raised it to his dick. Ivy wrapped her fingers around Pietr's club while she sucked Kyle. But Pietr wanted more. He grabbed Ivy's wrist and jerked it. Ivy understood and started stroking Pietr while she sucked Kyle.

Ivy could really smell the sex of the boys now. Pietr was soapy from his shower with a drop of his Blue cologne. Kyle had come straight from his sex bed with Sadie and smelled like boy musk and gamey pussy. He tasted different than the first time she'd try to suck him and Ivy knew why.

Sucking a boy while stroking another was harder than it sounded. Kyle was taking Ivy's mouth in his thrust rhythm, and Ivy's hand kept trying to match that rhythm to her stroke, but Pietr kept tapping at her wrist. Her stroke kept fading to nothing when she concentrated on what her tongue was doing to Kyle's stiff dick. Pietr kept reaching down to restart her wrist moving, like a faulty piece of lawn equipment that kept stalling out.

"Oh man," Kyle growled. "Oh man, she's really sucking my cock like a total slut, brother. Look at those tiny girl lips stretched to please me. What a little whore. You do good work, man."

"Thanks brother," Pietr said, "but I'm definitely going to need your help teaching her to please more than one cock at a time."

"She'll get it," Kyle grinned. "I'm getting close. I'm going to bust a nut any second."

Ivy looked up and made big, sexy eyes for Kyle. She moaned trampier and sucked harder, ready to take his relentless onslaught of cum. Her throat started swallowing spit to prime the pump for all the hot cum that was seconds away.

Pietr reached down and grabbed the back of Ivy's hair. In one hard tug he popped Ivy's mouth off Kyle's dick and shoved his own cock in replacement between her lips.

It was Kyle's turn to place Ivy's stroke hand where it needed to be. As hard as stroking one boy while sucking another had been before, it was even less successful with her non-dominant right hand doing the work. But she tried.

Both of Pietr's hands closed around each side of Ivy's head and he began to thrust his hips, pushing cock farther back in Ivy's throat than he ever had before. Ivy didn't like that, but there was nothing she could really do about it. She looked up and Pietr's mouth was shaping into an "O." He was breathing hard. He was going to pop.

And then Kyle yanked Ivy's head back and mounted her mouth. Without prompt, Ivy's hand flailed until it found Pietr's hard telephone pole and closed around it in a power stroke. Ivy wasn't sure exactly what was going on, but she was figuring out that the brothers pulling her back in forth between their cocks wasn't about them cumming. It was about them keeping her busy while not cumming. Didn't seem fair. She was sucking them both pretty good, she thought. Why would they not just blast away their orgasms. Sucking a boy's cock was work. Sucking two boys cocks at the same time was A LOT of work.

"Oh man," Kyle grunted. "Here I go."

Ivy poured it on. She sucked in a frenzy and moaned like a porn star.

But goddammit, Pietr pulled her off Kyle just that fast and onto his cock. "She needs fucked, brother," Pietr said. "She's so tight, I couldn't even mount her last night."

"Hmmm," Kyle said. "So she needs broken in? I can do that."

Pietr took a firm hold of the back of Ivy's hair and forced her throat way down on his dick. Ivy couldn't breath. He took a step backward and Ivy trailed along, attached at the mouth like a cock remora to a whale. Pietr sat on the edge of his chair, forcing Ivy back into all-fours. Once Pietr had reposed Ivy, he let loose of her hair. Ivy had no choice but to pull off and gulp some breaths. Pietr wasted no time grabbing his shaft and lancing it right back between Ivy's lips.

Ivy sensed Kyle behind her. She felt his hand on her right hip. His knees in the carpet pushing apart her knees. She felt his hard manhood spring up into the pages of her sopping pornographic book. He began wiggling around. The skin on the top of Kyle's cock put a stiff rubbing on her exposed clit. She moaned deep and real.

Kyle smacked Ivy on the ass, firm but not hard. "Suck that cock, little slut," he said. "Suck for Pietr's cum, you pretty little bitch."

Ivy was already giving Pietr everything she had. She started twisting her chin from side to side to work her tongue further around the pleasure pole plugged into her face.

She felt Kyle set his cock in her fuckpocket, then hold it with pressure as both hands took her hips.

"Fuck that bitch," Pietr groaned. "Break that little pussy, brother."

And that's exactly what Kyle did. His hardness and strength were no match for what Ivy's pussy thought it could or could not take. He plowed deep into her with one insistant stroke. Ivy's vision went dark and she may have passed out for just a second. Kyle's cockhead bottomed out somewhere that felt like her sternum. He held his position for only a moment.

"Holy shit, she's a tight piece of ass," Kyle hissed. "You gotta fuck this bitch, brother."

"Oh I'm trying," Pietr grunted. "I just needed you to break it for me so I can get some of that." Pietr grabbed the top of Ivy's hair and gave her head a couple tugs to remind her that she was supposed to be sucking cock. Ivy tried to resume the effort, but that's when Kyle started backing his hips out and pounding her cervix over and over. Ivy's ears rang with white noise and she thought she was going to pass out again.

Pietr grew frustrated and took control of her head again as he began fucking back into the throat that Kyle was bouncing forward with his powerful screwing. Somewhere in another world, Ivy heard a wounded animal moaning and realized it was her. Kyle was giving her the full length of his prick, pulling slow almost all the way back until it felt like it was finally out of her, and then ramming it all the way in until the stabbing sensation in her middle and the smack of his balls on her clitoris.

"Little spinner can take a pounding," Kyle huffed "Tight as fuck, this bitch."

"Give it to her, brother," Pietr hissed.

"You gonna cream her mouth?" Kyle huffed back.

"Naw, she can't concentrate while you're fucking her," Pietr said.

Ivy's left butt cheek exploded in concentrated flame when Kyle smacked it hard. "Suck, slut!" he barked.

Ivy tried.

"Kyle will take his pleasure from you," Pietr growled, making eye contact with Ivy's sexy rolled back irises. "When you are fucking and sucking, you concentrate on the boy in your mouth. The boy fucking you will take what he needs, but you never stop serving the boy in front of you with your suck. Got it?"

"Yeth, Mathah," Ivy grunted around the thickness in her mouth. She really tried to suck better, but Kyle's machine-like impact was ringing her bell. He changed up his fuck angle and somewhere inside her, his cockhead began sanding away at some needy part of her, bringing intense pleasure. Ivy adjusted to the new sway of impact, using it as a metronome for slurping and bouncing Pietr's cockhead against her tonsils.

"Oh flying fuck!" Kyle shouted. He kept his fuckstroke angle but clamped down on Ivy's hips harder and screwed away at the ecstacy zone in the front of her tunnel. Ivy tightened on herself. She was going to cum.

And then Kyle froze. He kept grunting and hissing. He was so big in her that Ivy felt the twitching and pulsing, but it wasn't where she needed it.

"Whew!" Kyle declared. "That was awesome."

Ivy felt Kyle leave her soggy warmth in a slow draw. She wanted to cry. She had been so close to a brain-melting orgasm. Two more fuckstrokes is all it would have taken at the delicious angle Kyle was taking her. She wasn't sure when Kyle's fucking stopped hurting her and started melting her. All she knew was that it ended too soon.

"Enough of this," Pietr said, clearly frustrated that Ivy's mouth was not taking him where he wanted to go. He stood from the chair, pulling his cock out of Ivy's mouth in an unceremonious scrape across her top teeth. He grabbed her under her waist like a ragdoll and upward she flew. She landed back on all fours on the foot of the bed, just where she was when Pietr had diddled her to bliss while she watched the numbers on the digital clock not move fast enough to get licked.

Warmth poured down the insides of her thighs. She thought it was the wetness of her sex, but there was too much of it for that. Kyle's copious spunk was leaking out of her.

Pietr stemmed the dike with a press of his own cock helmet into the gap Kyle made. Pietr's hands slid under her stomach to grip on each of the front of her legs and...

Ivy floated over the misty grass, horizontal but weightless. She wasn't more than five feet in the air. The ground was mostly shrouded and the sky above was nothing but grey fog. Poke stood below, her legs obscured by the swirling mist. Poke reached up her hand in a high-five gesture and smiled. "Way better than third chair clarinet, girlfriend!" Poke cheered.

Ivy was confused. She tried to swat back at Poke's extended high-five palm. Instead she fell forward with a rush of gravity. The mist turned sage green and became friction of a topsheet against her face. Reality formed from her periphery. Her stomach felt pressure like she'd never known before.

The jostling. The sound. She came back into herself to realize that Pietr was fucking the living daylights out of her. He was lifting her from her midsection and banging away. It wasn't any deeper than Kyle had fucked her, for she didn't have any "deeper" to be fucked, or Kyle would have fucked it. No, she was taking a dick that was stretching her pussy like giving birth to a fucking indecicive baby that couldn't decide whether it wanted to be in or out, in or out.

And that spot, that spot inside her that Kyle zeroed on with the angle of his fuckstroke? Oh it was getting a workout. No angle required, just the plumb of Pietr's plum-sized cockhead absolutely reaming her pink tunnel to its limits.

Her inner ears cleared of their hazy buzzing sound and she heard Kyle encouraging Pietr. "Fuck that bitch! Fuck that bitch, Pee! Oh man, you are absolutely breaking that little spinner pussy! Give it to her!"

More than the indescribable sensation of having a freight train shifting gears inside her pussy, it was Kyle's lecherous chanting that began to unwind Ivy as she slid back into the consciousness of her body. That happy fuckspot inside her was applauding along with Kyle's gleeful encouragement.

Kyle grabbed the back of Ivy's hair and tilted her face up. "You like that slut? You like that big cock showing you who's boss?"

"Yes," Ivy said. Then her ears informed her that she hadn't really said anything beyond the "WHUNG WHUNG WHUNG!" grunt she was apparently making in time to Pietr's crash against her spine.

"Answer me, slut," Kyle smiled. "You like big dick?"

"Yuh-hng!" Ivy grunted.

"I think that was a 'yes,'" Kyle said.

"Fuck, she's tight," Pietr growled. "I can feel the pulse in her puss."

Ivy felt it too, but she was pretty sure the secondary ticking sensation in her middle was the blood pulsing through Pietr's giant dong.

Ivy's legs shook again, her feet trembled involuntarily. That spot inside her was swirling into a hurricane of confused perfection. Spots danced in front of her eyes. Kyle's wolf-words seemed far away. But the boy's dirty talk was no longer a distraction to her pleasure so much as it was blowing oxygen on the sparking fuze of her impending explosion. She was soooo close. A few more strokes of Pietr's hard fucking and the top of her skull was going to explode into a confetti shower.

"GEEE.... Yawfuck!" Pietr screamed. His fucking slowed. Poke had told Ivy that you don't really feel a boy cumming inside you when it happens. You just feel it leaking out of you after. But Ivy felt it. She felt the warm fill of steaming hot boy juice filling up her insides ahead of the plow of the cockhead just behind it.

Ivy screamed. Not in orgasm, but frustration at barely avoiding two of them in quick succession.

Pietr dropped Ivy and stepped back out of her. She crumpled to the bedclothes, too weak to hold herself in a doggy position on her own. She was sure she felt a breeze blowing through her pussy, gaped open like the door to a blanket fort.

Oh god, she was so needy. Sooooo needy. She needed just a tiny bit of attention on her clit and she'd be good, but she had to have it. HAD. TO. HAVE. IT.

It took all the strength she had to flop on her back and let her knees drape apart. She panted and looked at both the naked boys, staring at her, their tools half-slacked and dripping milky slicks loaded with millions of perfect little babies. They were still looking at her like wolves, but smug satisfied wolves.

"C'mon," Ivy panted. "Just a little more. Who has a little more for me?"

Pietr and Kyle burst out laughing.

"What have we done to you," Kyle smiled. "We created a monster. You were such a good girl. Now you're a total slut."

The dirty boy talk was not making Ivy any less crazy horny. "No. Seriously. One of you lick me."

Both boys laughed again. "Uh... No," Kyle said."I'm not licking up Pietr's spunk. Thanks anyway."

"Yeahno," Pietr said. "I'll take a hard pass on that one too."

"C'mon," Ivy pleaded. "Play with me then. Play with my pussy. Play with your pussy, Master." Ivy locked eye contact with Pietr.

"We can get Sadie in here to finish you off," Kyle offered. "She'd love to lick our cum out of your pussy. It's a specialty of hers."

"No," Ivy cringed. "I want you two. One of you, at least. C'mon guys. I need it. I was so close. You can't leave me like this."

Pietr and Kyle exchanged a look. Kyle said something in Russian. Pietr nodded. Kyle climbed up on the bed kneeling above Ivy's head. She was sure he was coming in to have his cock sucked again. Instead he grabbed both of Ivy's hands by the wrist and locked them above her head in the grip of one of his strong hands. His other hand began pulling at Ivy's nipples. She was inflamed immediately with the sexy attention.

Pietr shoved his index and ring finger up into Ivy's cum-drenched hole. Not as big as Pietr's cock had been, but Pietr had big hands and when he began wiggling his fingers and walking them across the top of her fuck canal, Ivy thrashed.

Pietr responded by grasping around her thin ankle with his free hand. Ivy's instinct was to thrash harder, but the boys had her pinned in place. The brain sensation of being held to the will of her Alpha boys and her body being their play toy turned Ivy to thrashing wax almost immediately. The rumbling build of waves from Pietr's wiggling fingers up inside her was going to snap her bean and snap it quickly.

Kyle stopped pinching nipples with his free hand and leaned over to fan a splay of fingers back and forth across Ivy's clit in a windshield wiper motion. Ivy pulled harder against the strength of the boys and got nowhere. They gripped her tighter and individually manipulated the inside and outside of her pussy more determinedly.

Ivy arched. She could not be denied. Before the first relief of orgasm racked through her, she saw a wet spray arc up from her pussy like she was peeing, splashing Pietr's arm and the back of the blur that was Kyle's hand. And then she couldn't see anything but colors as she came and came and twitched and jerked and came some more. The boys did not relent until a few seconds after the waves of pleasure became overstimulated discomfort.

Fucking.

Perfect.

Ivy was still panting in a wilted heap when the boys had fully transitioned back into their business mode. They had things to do.

Pietr shoved the fingers that had been in her pussy into Ivy's mouth. "Clean," he said bluntly. Ivy had no fight left in her. She tightened her lips and sucked off all the malange of her pussy drippings mixed with two flavors of cum from the brothers. It was carnal and a depraved thing to ask of her. Equally depraved for her to comply without a moment's hesitation.

And then the boys were moving on with their morning.

"We've got some plumbing and electrical repairs this morning," Pietr said. "Handyman stuff that Zooey lined up. We are going to trust you and Sadie to stay here at the house."

"I don't want you two going anywhere," said Kyle.

"I couldn't walk if I wanted to," Ivy panted. "My legs don't work."

Ivy's hand trembled as she lifted the carafe of coffee to pour her first cup of the day. She was wearing panties and one of Kyle's T-Shirts. Misery sniffed her crotch curiously and nodded as if she understood her alpha masters had claimed yet another bitch into the pack.

Sadie walked into the kitchen wearing sunglasses and a bikini that was much too small for her ample bosom and thick booty. The little triangle patches on the top were barely big enough to mask Sadie's big brown nips.

"C'mon," Sadie said. "Get your shit together. It's gorgeous out there. Let's walk up to the pool. You look like you just got bukkakied by a rugby team."

Ivy took a draw of hot Joe from her mug. "The brothers said not to leave the house."

Sadie rolled their eyes. "Since when to they tell us what to do?"

Ivy considered the question. "I dunno," she said. "Since they can pretty much beat our asses and rape us at-will and we won't do anything about it?"

"Yeah," shrugged Sadie. "I meant what can they do to us that's bad? Trust me. When they get pissed off and mad, they just fuck you harder, girlfriend. It's all good."

"I dunno," Ivy said. "I don't think we should go."

"I think we should," Sadie said. "Go wash the cum off your legs and let's go grab some sun before all the lounge chairs are taken."

Ivy knew better. But she could see the deep blue of the sky through the windows and knew it was probably a great pool day outside. Sadie was bossy and insistent and wasn't going to take no for an answer. And frankly, after giving a sweaty blowjob to two boys at the same time and being tag team fucked senseless until they both poured a bucket of cum up her twat, Ivy wasn't going to be productive at anything today. Not for awhile. And the thought of jumping in some cool, cleansing pool water and baking on in a lounge chair while her pussy shrank back to normal size was quite a delicious thought.

Ivy tapped her index finger against the side of the mug and weighed the consequences.

"We're going to be back before they get back home," Sadie said, exasperated. "You know if there's a dime to be grubbed, Kyle isn't going to be done chasing it until dinnertime. They both packed their diet lunches, so you know they won't be home until at least two. C'mon. I don't want to go by myself."

"You can't put tanning lotion on your own back," Ivy mumbled.

"Okay. You got me. Busted."

Ivy slurped a hot mouthful. "Kay," Ivy said. "But this stays between us. Nobody can know."

"We'll add that to the long list," Sadie said. "C'mon. Get your suit."

It did not take as long to walk to the community pool as Ivy would have guessed. Barely half a mile. Sadie knew exactly what to say to the woman behind the clubhouse desk about being family guests of the Kisselhoffs and they were making a run to the Publix grocery store and would be there any minute with cold sodas. Ivy was impressed by how convincingly Sadie could lie.

They grabbed two perfect open lounge chairs strategically positioned away from the splashing screaming dervish midgets in the kiddie end of the pool.

Sadie put in the earbuds from her phone. Ivy kicked herself for forgetting her phone behind at the house. It would have been a good time to chill out and catch up with Poke on a phone call. Maybe even call Tad and make the breakup official. Get that behind her.

It's was Ivy's tradition to take a quick dive into the pool to test the temperature before getting her bake on. The water was crisp and neither too cool nor too warm. It was Goldilocks. The clean blast of her dive stripped the sweat that had built up on their walk as well as residual sex from her morning tryst with the bothers. Ivy lifted herself up the ladder and plopped next to Sadie who was waiting with her tanning lotion. Ivy painted Sadie's back with circles of her tiny hands. Then Sadie rubbed down Ivy's back.

Sadie's rubdown was way more like what Kyle had done to her at the beach than what Ivy had done to Sadie. Sadie's fingers went all the way to the edges of Ivy's bikini bottoms and tested the seam of cloth against skin, squeezing a little. Ivy realized that Sadie's bisexual schtick may not have been entirely showing off for the boys.

Ivy thanked Sadie and rolled to a lounging position. For the first time, Ivy seriously considered what she would do if the boys insisted on Ivy sexing Sadie. Was that a thing? Would they expect that? Ivy supposed that if they made Sadie suck on Ivy's boobs, that would be okay. And maybe if they wanted Ivy to suck on Sadie's nipples, she could do that without making a fuss. But what if they wanted Ivy to lick Sadie?

Ivy sighed. She wasn't ready for that kind of experimentation with a girl. Maybe they wouldn't ask. Besides, she had already tasted Sadie on Kyle's dick when he appeared out of nowhere in Pietr's room. It wouldn't be the end of the world.

The day could not have been better for laying out at the pool. Warm, of course, but there was a nice breeze. There were lines of palm trees on two sides of the pool deck casting shadows where Ivy could relocate if the sun got too intense for her fair skin. Sadie had nailed it: It was much too exquisite of a day to stay in the house.

Ivy wiggled her toes and felt her sex-punished pussy throb a little bit as it relaxed back along with the rest of her. Ivy was overcome with the satisfaction of feeling -- for lack of a better word -- adulty. It was all so mature to finally embrace her feminine sexuality at the hands of two really hot older boys who knew what they were doing. She wondered if her mother had ever been sexed by two boys at the same time. Heck, even Poke had never done two boys at once.

Even Sadie had seemed to accept Ivy's sexual maturity as a given, finally talking to Ivy like an equal when they were in the kitchen.

And most importantly, she had finally sexed Kyle. Finally.

Before Kyle and Pietr left for their handyman jobs, Kyle had kissed Ivy and Sadie on the lips. "Hey girl," he said to Sadie, "just so you know, you're bunking with Pee tonight. I want a little selfish time with Ive."

Squee!

Sadie said she was fine with this.

Really, with a few hiccups, everything had fallen in place. Kyle was acting like he was down with being Ivy's guy again. Ivy wondered what Kyle would want to do after he closed his door for the evening. Ivy wondered if her pussy would be too sore for more fun-and-games so soon. She'd figure something out.

Ivy noticed that her nipples were rock hard thinking about sex, tenting up her bikini top. Ivy blushed. She readjusted the lounge chair flat and rolled on her stomach to hide her perky, slutty buds from the smirky nine year old boys who kept walking out of their way around the far side of the pool to get a closer look at Sadie and Ivy.

Ivy saw Dominic the minute he walked onto the pool deck. Shirtless, he wasn't built like the brothers. But who was? He had a nice slim build and long thin legs. Poke referred to this build as "Cross Country," after the tall lean boys who ran long-distance track. Again Dominic was with five of his friends, three of whom had been in the car with him that time. Two were new. One of the new boys was black, and he was rather impressively chiseled. In fact, Dominic was probably the least menacing of the whole pack. But he was obviously king shit. Alpha. Ivy watched him move around the deck through her sunglasses, tracking him with interest. Given the red hair, Dominic wasn't tanned, per se. But he wasn't a ghost either. There was something about him that was very cute and very intriguing. Not so much the hue of his skin, but rather how comfortable he was in it.

The pack of boys walked over under the pergola section of the deck. There were no longer six lounge chairs together, so they walked to where there were four open lounges and two too-skinny teenage boys sunning. Ivy couldn't hear what they were saying, but Dominic said something to the sunning boys. The boys shook their head. Dominic looked annoyed. He took a step backwards. Four of his pack stepped forward, two grabbing the tops of the lounges where the skinny boys were and two grabbing the feet of the lounges. The next thing Ivy knew, the lounges were spun upside down and the skinny teen boys rolled hard onto the concrete.

The skinny boys stood up in a rage and made like they were going to charge at Dominic. Dominic didn't flinch. He put his arms out in a "come at me, bro" gesture. The skinny boys apparently changed their minds. They gathered up their towels and left. The six wolf boys settled into the row of chairs.

Dominic was some kind of bully badass. Ivy was half repulsed by what she had witnessed, but she felt her pulse ticking in her neck a little in a sexy way. Dominic didn't seem to give two shits about what the other skinny boys had wanted from this glorious day. It was his day now.

It took twenty minutes for Dominic to finally lock eyes on Ivy across the pool. Ivy saw it happen, but she hid behind her sunglasses and pretended that her eyes were closed. He immediately stood, along with two of his posse, and made a beeline for where Sadie and Ivy were sunning.

"Hey Peaches," Dominic smiled. "I haven't slept for two whole days, waiting for you to call. What happened, Ivy?"

Sadie woke from her sun trance. She regarded Dominic and smiled a sexy smile.

"Hey," Ivy stalled. "How are you, Dominic?"

"Did you find your little brother?" Dominic smiled, "Or is he still running wild in a grove of Cypress trees like Tarzan and teaching alligators and Turkey Vultures to be his super minions?"

"Brother?" Sadie tipped down her sunglasses and looked over the top.

"He's fine!" Ivy blurted. "Everything worked out."

"Good," Dominic smiled. "I'm a sucker for a happy ending. Who's your cute friend here?"

"Sadie." She held out her hand, palm down, like a debutante. "But you can call me anytime you want."

Dominic offered a small shake and watched it ripple up Sadie's arm and jiggle her barely-covered tits. "Dominic," he smiled. "My crew here is Chad. Big man Tyrus there. Across the pond there we've got Paulo with the hat. And Dante."

There was something about the way Sadie was smiling at the big black boy with the fade haircut that could not have been more obvious. He smiled back. Just that quick, in the half second it took to exchange a glance, a connection was made. Ivy exhaled. At least Sadie didn't fixate on Dominic. Not that Ivy needed a fourth guy right now, or even a third after she finally made her call to break up with Tad. But having Sadie slutcharm Dominic right out from under Ivy, the same way she snuck in Pietr's room and pulled his cock out from under her pussy... That would have sucked.

"Can we get you ladies anything?" Dominic asked. "Something cold to drink? Oil rubbed on your shoulders? Vast quantities of real estate?"

Ivy politely declined. "No than--"

"A Sprite sounds marvelous!" Sadie cut her off. "Unless you've got something a little more... adult tucked away."

Dominic grinned. "Sure gorgeous. But not here. You two party?" he asked. When Ivy looked confused Dominic made a smoking gesture with his fingers pinched at his lips."

"I... Uh..." Ivy stammered.

"Oh I'd kill a fucking drifter for some sticky BC Indica, right now," Sadie gushed. "You have any of that? On you?"

"Maybe," Tyrus smiled a ten thousand watt blast of perfect teeth.

"What about you, blondie?" Chad asked. "You want to put a little buzzy bee in your bonnet?"

Ivy remembered something Poke had once said about smoking pot. "Naw, it's not my bag. I hate getting hot lung. Pisses me off. If I want to choke on fire I'll eat the charcoal briquette out of a barbeque pit."

Chad was undeterred. He shrugged. "We've got a vape pen. No burn."

Ivy felt cornered. "Oh. I never tried that." Actually she'd never tried anything.

"First time for everything," Dominic said. "Why don't we head back to my place and chill with my crew?"

Cute boys sure were a lot easier to come by in Florida.

Ivy considered that Sadie and she were already afoul of the Brother's directive not to leave the house. They probably shouldn't go to a 420 makesesh with strange boys, even if they were adorable. A week ago Ivy was a monogamous quazi-virgin good girl. Today she'd already been double-teamed in both sex holes by one set of boys and was being tempted to a weed party tryst -- like those sketchy girls with the tattoos who showed up at Poke's brothers' place to screw them for free drugs -- with yet another boy. Or boys. Ivy had not worked out the math yet.

"Seems like we're outnumbered," Ivy smiled.

Dominic smiled and shrugged in his adorable casual way. "Yeah, that kind of sucks. I don't guess maybe you two have a couple-three girlfriends who are even half as hot as you are, do ya?"

Ivy smiled. "Sorry. Visiting. Left my Instagrammies back in Georgia. Just me and Sadie here, I'm afraid."

"Yeah, that's cool," Dominic said. "Good thing we know how to share."

Ivy smiled again. But that word unnerved her. "Share." What did that mean? "Share?" Or was that just a joke and she was being too literal?

"We just got here," said Sadie. "I'm not ready to leave yet."

"No hurry," Dominic shrugged.

Sadie looked up at Tyrus. "Are you holding or not?"

"You gotta come out to the car with me." He pointed up at the security cameras.

Sadie stood and tapped Ivy on the knee. "I'll be right back." She made a very obvious look at the bulge in Tyrus's shorts. "On second thought," Sadie said "I might just smoke two big joints. This may take a while."

Tyrus smiled a lecherous boy smile. "I hope so," he said.

Sadie was in full cat mode. "Don't bet against me," she said flatly. "You have trouble lasting ten minutes with this talented mouth, big guy."

Ivy blinked. Sadie was a whore, but at least she owned it. Ivy kind of admired her for that.

Dominic whispered something to Chad, who nodded and walked toward the snack bar. Dominic slipped into Sadie's chair.

"Your, uh... friend? Cousin?" Dominic began.

"Acquaintance," Ivy said.

"Okay, your cute acquaintance, she seems pretty cool," Dominic said.

Ivy wondered if there was an unspoken analogy that followed Dominic's declaration. Was Ivy not pretty cool? Is that what he was saying?

"You've never smoked, have you?" Dominic asked.

"No," Ivy admitted.

Dominic pulled down his sunglasses and stared out over the water. "That's cool. I get it. But we really do have an Indigo pen. It's really easy and it doesn't burn your lungs. It tastes like oranges. My brother brought it from Seattle. Pot is legal up there. You can buy it like everywhere. There are billboards on the side of the highway for pot shops."

"Really?" Ivy asked. "I can't imagine."

"Yeah," Dominic said. "Seattle is cool. I'm going to move there as soon as I can."

"You don't like Tampa?"

"What? No. Fuck this place. Fucking hot all the time. Never snows. No skiing. No good bands. Nobody writes songs about Tampa. Name one song about Tampa, Peaches. One."

"I can't." Ivy said.

"Because there aren't any. Not even old songs. Nobody likes this shithole place. We're like the chanker on America's dong. We don't even have good surf or good water. Just the stagnant fucking soup bowl of the Bay. Even the jellyfish won't come here."

Ivy thought about her day at the beach with Kyle. It was a lot better than sweltering Central Georgia. "Everybody thinks someplace else is better," Ivy offered.

"I guess. Where you from, Peaches? Georgia, obviously, but what part?"

"Atlanta. Burbs north of Atlanta."

"Oh wow! That explains the adorable accent. You a Hawks fan?"

Ivy remembered trying to watch television with Gary, who was a huge Hawks fan. "Sure." She tried to remember the name of a player. "I'm all about Jeff Teague."

Dominic looked at Ivy and back across the pool. "Yeah. They traded him to Minnesota a while back."

"Oh. Yeah," Ivy blushed. "I know that. I'm still a fan."

"Cool. Hey. I'm warming up. You want to swim with me for a little while?"

Ivy was warm too. "Sure."

Dominic took a couple of steps across the deck, tilted forward, and made a perfectly fluid head-first cut into the water. It was so smooth it barely made a splash or a sound. He came up and flipped his wet hair. He looked rather sexy, glistening in the water and smiling his confident smile. "C'mon," he shouted. "You may be sugar, but I bet you won't melt."

Ivy hopped over the edge into the water, feet first. She felt like a little kid. Dominic reached out and grabbed under her armpit to pull her into deeper water. She'd have to trust him.

That was a mistake. He lifted her up out of the water and made a yodel sound like the monkey from Lion King. Then he tossed her into even deeper water. She crashed in sideways and it nearly pulled the top off her bikini. She sucked in water and came up coughing. He scooped her up again, but this time his hand gripped her butt. Quite tightly. He was getting a good feel. Ivy was too far away from the ladder in deep water and had no choice but to accept Dominic's charity grope. Ivy was still coughing and pissy, but she tried to smile and show some playful feminine grace. Dominic was really handsy under the water. Ivy was trying to decide if she liked it or not. He was definitely testing her. First her butt. Then a slide of fingers through her butt crack. Then a nice low palm right above her bikini bottom. Then some side boob.

Then she was back up in the air and being tossed back in deep water, squealing like a pig all the way down.

Ivy had been around the Brothers so long, she'd forgotten that every other boy on the planet was actually a boy. Even cute redheaded Dominic, who looked like a sexy Rupert Grint. He was having fun. Ivy was the fun. This was a 13 year old girl's plight. She was destined to be as mature as the boys around her.

There was a lot more horseplay before Sadie finally returned, gliding back across the concrete deck. She looked like the cat who sucked off the big black canary. Her eyes were thin and she had a goofy expression. Ivy knew that expression. She was baked.

"You about ready to blow this popsicle stand?" Dominic asked. "Your acquaintance has returned." He began to swim for the ladder.

Ivy had no idea what time it was. She didn't have a phone to check the time. It could have been two hours. Maybe three. Maybe a little more. Laying out in the sun made it notoriously hard to track the passing hours, and she had been frocking in the water with handsy Dominic for a while.

If there had been any doubt, the underwater horseplay with Dominic had made it pretty clear what was going to happen if Ivy went back to his house with him. Half of her rational brain was screaming at Ivy, reminding her that her pussy had not even recovered from the S.S. Kisselhoff torpedo damage it had sustained that morning.

The other half of her brain was thinking, "Hell, what's one more cute boy? Like David Banford said, I'm more than 300 miles from home. Who is going to know?"

But of course, Kyle might find out. That would be no good. She was just starting down Girlfriend Road with Kyle. And he had made it clear that he wanted Ivy all to himself tonight. She better save it for Kyle. Ivy didn't want to be a TOTAL whore like Sadie.

Chad had left a pile of sweaty plastic Sprite's next to the lounge chairs. Tyrus and Sadie cracked two of them and gulped at tipt bottles.

"I need a couple minutes," Sadie announced to the world. "Let me get my balance a little before we go anywhere."

For the first time, Dominic didn't look casual. He looked impatient and annoyed with Sadie. Tyrus was the one who looked relaxed. He winked at Dominic and made a nodding motion.

"Uh, why don't you make a trip out to the car with me while we wait for your acquaintance to get her bearings, Ivy?" Dominic said.

"Uh, I should probably just hang here," Ivy said. She meant "hang here and not go with you," but it came out like "hang here and wait to go home with you."

"It'll just take a minute," Dominic said. "I just want to show you something. We'll be right back."

Ivy didn't want to go. Something was wrong. "Okay," her mouth said. She slipped on her flops and Dominic ran across the pool to his crew to grab a T-shirt and slip on some Sperry Topsiders. Ivy met him by the door and he whisked Ivy through the clubhouse lobby and back out into the Sun. The windows were down on Dominic's ride. The inside of the car smelled like sex.

"This is what I was telling you about," Dominic said. He cracked the glove compartment and pulled out a little grey rod. There was a translucent orange plastic end. "This is the vape pen."

Ivy stared at it. "That's pot? Where do you light it?"

Dominic laughed. He had a good laugh. "You don't light it. This big part is the battery. The little plastic tip has the weed in it. See?" Dominic sucked on the orange tip. Nothing happened. A second later he exhaled a thin mist. "You try it."

Ivy did not want to try it. But the grey stick seemed not threatening. There was no fire, so how bad could it be? She put the orange part in her mouth and took a tiny draw. The stick vibrated in her fingers, but nothing else happened. Dominic laughed again.

"No, silly. You've got to suck more out than that. Suck harder."

Hmmm. Boys chiding Ivy to suck harder seemed to be a theme today. Ivy sucked on the tube again, drawing a little longer. She felt the stick vibrate more and the smoke go in her mouth. She immediately breathed it out and handed the stick to Dominic.

"That's better," he said. "But you have to suck it down here. In your lungs. And try and hold it." Dominic took a big drag to show Ivy how it was done. He didn't breath out for a long time.

"It really does taste like orange," Ivy said. She took another drag and tried to suck down the smoke like Dominic said. It wasn't that hard. The smoke wasn't as obnoxious as the cigarettes she'd tried. The fumes were thin. She held her breath as long as she could and exhaled. Wispy grey vapor filled the car. The cloud of exhale was so weak that Ivy assumed she still wasn't doing it right.

"Good," Dominic said. He took a hard huff inhale. A bunch of kids and a mom suddenly walked to the car parked next to them. Dominic did not exhale. The mother fumbled with her keys. Dominic looked at Ivy comically but did not exhale, as if doing so would get him busted. Doors finally opened and kids slowly climbed into the car. Dominic was still holding his breath. An interminable duration later the car reversed out of the adjacent spot and Dominic finally let his breath out. He was such a goof about it that Ivy had to laugh.

He passed the vape pen back to Ivy and she sucked hard on it. "I don't think I'm doing this right," she said in an exhale. "I don't feel anything. Oh wait. There it is. My scalp is numb."

Dominic smiled and nodded. "Here it comes, Peaches. Hang on to your tits."

Three tokes later and Ivy was upside down. Her ears were ringing. Her vision ceased processing in a fluid motion, now a series of still frames spaced out, like the time her grandpa showed her a slideshow from an ancient carousel projected on the dining room wall.

"Whoah," Ivy said. "Enough. I'm there."

Dominic kissed Ivy. It was pretty good. Not Kisselhoff Kiss good, but good. Dominic's tongue was right there and his hands were all over Ivy's bikini top, pinch-prospecting for the nipples underneath. Ivy didn't mind. She was too dizzy to stop Dominic. She remembered that she was not supposed to be making out with Dominic for a really good reason, but bringing that reason back into the front part of her brain was suddenly very difficult to do.

Dominic pushed Ivy back on the front seat of the car, kissing all the way. He positioned into a dry hump split of her legs.

"GAH SHIT!" Ivy screamed. "The seat is hot! I'm burning! Let me up!"

"Sorry," Dominic said, sitting up. "Here. Sit on my lap."

Ivy sat on Dominic's lap and he wasted no time kissing her again. His fingers pushed her thighs apart and rubbed at the outside of her bikini triangle. It did not occur to Ivy to resist, even if her skin was a little too weed-apathetic to get anything out of all the handsy-pansy boy groping.

Ivy was not so high that she was not watching around the open car for people walking by or another car pulling into the recently-vacated space next to them. If she was going to go through with this adventure, she should probably go get Sadie and head back to Dominic's place for a proper private makesesh.

Ivy's periphery snagged on the red blur. It was barreling down the street along the far side of the parking lot. A truck. A familiar truck. A familiar face. Kyle's head was sticking up out of the passenger window of the car, like he was sitting with his legs inside the truck, but his head whipping around; a fuzzy radar dish. All that pretty brown hair was trailing him like a stubby brunette flame. Kyle was looking for something. REALLY looking for something. INTENTLY looking for someth---

"Oh shit," Ivy shouted. "I gotta go!"

"What's your hurry, sugar? We've got all afternoon."

Ivy tried to climb for the car door, but Dominic wasn't having it.

"Hey, c'mon. You smoked my good vape. You owe me at least a beejay, girl. Where are you going? Knock it off."

"I really need to go!" Ivy's fingers tried to form into a useful tool that could manipulate the door handle that seemed perpetually out of reach.

Dominic manhandled Ivy. He grabbed her hair and not in a nice way. "Knock it off!" he spat. "Settle the fuck down, or I'm going to ring your bell."

Ivy did not stop trying to swim for outside of the car.

Dominic's teeth were bared when he slapped her. That's what Ivy remembered. Not the pain of the slap, because she was quite numb from the pot. But those animal teeth. The bad kind of animal teeth, not the sexy kind. The psychotic kind of animal teeth.

Ivy froze, stunned.

"That's better," Dominic sneered. His fingers breached Ivy's bikini bottoms and started exploring her pink.

"IVY!" It was Kyle. Somewhere outside Kyle was calling her name. The second time he shouted it, Dominic heard it too and raised up.

"Dafuck?" Dominic mumbled. "Oh sweet fucking mother of Mary." He noticed Kyle jumping out of the truck window and running for the parking lot.

By the time Kyle had ran close enough to the car to see Ivy and Dominic inside, the two appeared to just be sitting and talking.

Dominic unfolded out the passenger door in a dramatic flourish and puffed his chest toward Kyle. "Oh of course. Abso-fucking-lutely. Of course! She belongs to you too, huh, mother fucker? Every quality bit of ass in this burg belongs to Kyle Kiss-my-ass, don't they mother fucker?"

Kyle's sprint ended with a little hop right in front of Dominic. He seemed really confused, looking back and forth between Dominic's threatening posture and Ivy skootching towards the car door.

"I have so had it with you, mother fucker," Dominic spat.

Ivy thought it was weird that Dominic kept emphasizing the word "mother" when everybody else would have leaned on the "fucker" part of the insult.

Kyle didn't seem as threatened as Dominic seemed threatening. He looked past Dominic to Ivy, as if Dominic was invisible.

"C'mon, Ivy," Kyle said. "Time to go."

"She's not going anywhere," Dominic said. "Not with you, anyway."

Ivy finally made it to the open passenger door, but her feet seemed confused about which way was down. She noticed that she was missing a flip-flop. She looked around the car for clues.

"Ivy, stop fucking around," Kyle said. His voice was mostly calm, but Ivy could hear the sand of irritation grinding in his gears. "Let's go."

"I can't find my shoe. Flop. Flipity... Shoe... Thingy."

"I'll buy you a new pair," Kyle said. "They are two dollars at the Gas-mart. Don't worry about it. Let's g--" Kyle clipped off his words abruptly.

Ivy looked up at Kyle. Kyle stared back at her, bewildered. Like Ivy was transitioning into a werewolf.

Kyle finally acknowledged Dominic. "Mallory... Did you... Did you fucking hit her?"

"Like I answer to you about anything, mother fucker."

"What is that red mark on her cheek? Ivy, did this shitstain hit you?"

"I--" Ivy couldn't sew two thoughts together if her life depended on it. She tried to read Kyle, but he seemed oddly bewildered. Ivy had never witnessed Bewildered Kyle. Kyle Kisselhoff was unflappable, but now he sure seemed to be... flappy. "I don't know."

"Get the fuck out of my neighborhood, Kisselhoff," Dominic growled. "You've been warned before and I'm not going to warn you again."

"Mallory," Kyle blinked. His voice was soft and astonished. "Do you have any idea what the fuck is about to happen when Pietr sees that you've hit his girl? Do you? I know you've wanted this fight for years, but... This isn't going to be a fight. He is -- literally -- going to dismantle you, joint-by-joint, starting at your ankles."

"Still hiding behind your goon, huh, Kisselhoff?" Dominic said. "Still can't fight your own battles, huh, pussy?"

"Yeah," Kyle gruffed. "One-on-one. Yeeeeah. That's why you won't step out on your porch to pick up the morning paper without three of your toadies flanking you. A one-on-one with you would be a dream, Mallory. A very short, very violent dream. Christ, Mallory. You've fucking done it this time. You just ruined four lives in one shot."

Kyle spun around at Pietr, who had parked the truck and was marching toward Kyle and Dominic across the parking lot. Kyle shouted something in Russian. Just that quick, Pietr turned and headed inside the clubhouse.

"That was close," Kyle exhaled. "Mallory, step aside. If I can get her in the truck before Pietr sees that handprint on her face, you might live and I might not spend the night in a holding cell."

"I'm not scared," Dominic smiled.

"Of course you aren't scared, Mallory," Kyle said, "you're not nearly smart enough for that."

The emergency exit in the tall iron fence around the pool banged open and all five of Dominic's boys sprinted toward Kyle in a dead run. Ivy glanced away from the mayhem to see Pietr walking Sadie out of the clubhouse, his big hand pulling her along semi-forcably by her upper arm. Everyone was headed toward the convergence point of Dominic's car.

"What have I done," Ivy thought. "This is bad. This is so bad."

"Take her to the truck," Kyle tried to wave Pietr away from the convergence. "Just get her in the truck. We'll walk home."

Pietr looked suspicious. He obviously knew he was supposed to be in proximity to the conflict and the mob of boys closing in on his brother.

Kyle shouted something at Pietr in Russian. He said it in an angry voice.

Whatever Kyle was saying, it made Pietr walk in the direction of the truck. For three steps. That's when Sadie jerked her arm out of Pietr's grip and started marching for the street with a pissed off expression.

Pietr watched her walk away. Apparently satisfied that his Border Collie duties were no longer required, he walked toward his brother.

"No, Pietr!" Kyle shouted. "I got this! Go home."

Pietr did not go home.

"Oh fuck," Kyle exhaled. "Here we go."

Ivy finally spilled out of Dominic's car. She shifted her weight to the foot stil clad in the flip-flop because the parking lot was uncomfortably hot for even the calloused sole of her bare foot. She tried to get to Kyle, but there was a wall of posturing boys between her and the brothers. Attempts to squeeze past Dominic's crew or maneuver around them fell flat. It became obvious that was the point: to keep her from leaving with Kyle and Pietr. They were inching backward, either into defensive positions away from the brothers or to box her against Dominic's car. Perhaps both. Dante's butt pushed into her stomach.

"Make a hole," Pietr bellowed. "Make it wide." He made a beeline for trapped Ivy. Through the picket fence of biceps and backs, Ivy noted Pietr's expression. It was grave.

"I don't think that's going to happen, friend," said Tyrus.

"Easy," Kyle said. "You know what Coach Mathis will do to you both."

"Only if some pussy rat shoots off his pussy rat mouth," Tyrus said.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure Coach has an IQ north of twelve," Kyle said. "I think he'll figure it out at the funeral visitation."

Ivy knew her brain was not where it needed to be to negotiate the chaos she created. She had never considered that there was another boy in Pietr's orbit big enough to slow down his agency, but Tyrus was Pietr's equal in build and almost as tall.

"You've got exactly one second to step aside," Pietr growled. "And then the time for talking is over."

"Easy Pee," Kyle whispered. "Don't throw your future away for the momentary joy of Hulk-smashing through the five rings of the Special Olympics. I got this."

Ivy knew she was smart enough to think her way out of this -- literal and figurative -- jam. But everything was hazy. Through the mental fog she remembered something she had seen Poke do to her brother once.

Ivy reached through the open car door and hooked her hand into the passenger seat safety belt. In one hard tug she yanked a loop of belt out of the car, over Dante's head, and let go. The retraction force of the belt was nowhere near strong enough to pull Dante off balance, just as it had not been enough to move Moochie when Poke had done it. So Ivy did exactly what Poke had done, yanking Dante's shorts down to his knees as soon as she let go of the seatbelt.

The combination of the yank on his neck and the locked knees wrapped in swimsuit toppled Dante and made the hole Ivy needed to squirt through to Pietr and Kyle.

Kyle exhaled. "Well gents," he smiled. "I'm sure you've got a bag of kittens somewhere that you need to drown, so I'll let you get back to your day."

Pietr put his hand around Ivy's shoulder, protectively, but did not take his eyes off Tyrus. Ivy's sensation of being within Pietr's force field of protection was headier than the pot. It was oxygenated relief. Kyle and Pietr backed away, as if they fully expected punches to begin at any second.

Dante freed himself of the seatbelt garrote and pulled his shorts back up. Ivy was sure the punchfest would start with him. But he just stared at Ivy and seethed.

The brothers and Ivy backed away.

"That's right, mother fucker," Dominic smiled. "You better run, you bunch of twats. Put your tail between your legs and run. And take your fat cunt with you."

Ivy's eyes popped out. "Fat?"

"Shut up," mumbled Kyle. "Just shut. Up."

After stepping backwards for twenty steps, The boys cautiously turned around and walked Ivy toward the truck. Pietr finally acknowledged Ivy.

"You okay, Darlin'?" Pietr smiled at her. The smile slid off his face like pepperoni off a hot pizza. "What happened to your face?"

"Nothing," Ivy said.

"Keep moving," Kyle mumbled.

Pietr did not keep moving. He stopped in his tracks. Something red exploded in his neck and began to wash over his face.

"What happened, Ivy?" Pietr said flatly. "Did he hit you? Is that a handprint? Did that fucker hit you?"

"Let it go," Kyle whispered.

"Shut the fuck up, Kyle," Pietr growled. "What happened, Ivy? Who hit you?"

"I fell," Ivy said. "On the concrete. At the pool."

"Fell into what?" Pietr asked. "A chair with a thumb on it?"

"Pietr..." Kyle said.

Pietr's shoulders squared on the line of hostiles. "Which one of you cocksuckers hit her?" He roared. He took determined steps back toward the fray.

"You heard her," Tyrus smiled. "She fell. Fat bitches fall. It happens. Especially the dumb ones. They have trouble with that whole walking thing." Tyrus made downward walking motions with two fingers.

"Laugh it up, Ty," Pietr growled. "I'm going to level you first."

"Pee!" Kyle ran in front of Pieter and tried to push him to a halt. Kyle's beat-up Sperry slip ons kept sliding backwards on the pavement as Kyle became the hypotenuse in a triangle. "Pee don't! Pee we've worked too hard to throw it away now!"

Pietr growled something in Russian.

Kyle said something back in Russian that sounded like a plea.

Pietr was two yards away from pushing Kyle into Tyrus. Tyrus stopped leaning back with his casual smile and hunched his shoulders forward. Tyrus stopped smiling and started bracing for a fight.

"Pee!" screamed Kyle.

Ivy watched it all unfold. It was terrible, and there was no way that this was going to end in anything less than mayhem. Even if Pietr and Kyle could take down five boys... Or rather four boys and a tank... And they just might have such skills, being as they could do everything else... Chances of them coming out unscathed were abysmally low.

Ivy heard it from thirty feet away; the sound of the punch landing. It sounded like a wet towel snapping. Ivy saw Pietr's head jerk to the side with impact. Then Ivy realized that Kyle had been the one who threw the punch.

Pietr stopped advancing. He blinked. He looked at Kyle. Pietr's tongue took slow inventory of his teeth. Then he slowly leaned over and spit a big wad of red beside Kyle's shoes. Pietr turned back on Kyle.

Kyle again pleaded with Pietr in Russian. Pleaded like how a man about to be executed pleads for his life, but with lots of hand motions to the line of boys standing right behind him.

Pietr's finger pointed at Tyrus and swept slowly across all Dominic and the other boys. "This is not over," he said softly. "I will destroy each and every one of you for this. And when I tell you that I'm going to beat your asses, I'm not talking about some chest bumping and headlocks. I promise each and every one of you that I'm not going to stop until I see teeth on the sidewalk."

"Fuuuuuck you, twatwaffle," Dominic sneered.

Pietr pointed at him. "And I'm coming for you last, Mallory," he said calmly. "So you'll have a chance to see your wall of psychotic sycophants crumble, and every time you get a call from an emergency room, you'll know I just worked my way one douchebag closer to you."

For once, Dominic didn't smile. He looked concerned.

Pietr and Kyle swept Ivy into the truck.

Ivy wasn't sure if it the marijuana had made her vulnerable emotional state worse, but she could not stop bawling. She sat in the front room on the couch that housed a folded up Desdemona, and she sobbed. Ivy felt terrible for everything she had done.

On the drive home from the pool, Kyle's jaw had been locked and smoke poured out his ears. He kept looking at Ivy angrily and shaking his head with smoldering disgust.

Pietr had just sat in the passenger seat with his jaw clenched and his face flushed, staring into to the distance a long way in front of the truck.

Then he snapped. He abruptly began screaming and punching the dashboard of the truck. Hard. Crazy hard. The vinyl cracked and plastic and chrome trim shattered under the explosive force of the punches. Ivy was more terrified by this close-proximity violence that even what had almost happened back at the pool.

Pietr covered his face in shame. His knuckles bled down his hands and arms, dripping into a puddle on his lap. For the first and only time he turned to look at Ivy. She could see the agony in his expression through her veil of tears.

"I failed you," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Ivy did not know how to respond. So she didn't. And then they were home and Kyle was running to get a first aid kit. Sadie was somewhere upstairs. Ivy could hear the shower running when she came through the door. Naturally Sadie hadn't used the guest shower downstairs. She thought she was family. Maybe she was.

Ivy pulled her knees up into her arms and tried to get the sound of Pietr's anguished screams out of her head, along with the deafening sound of the dashboard shattering under his violence. She desperately needed to blow her nose, but had no tissues.

The door swung open. Ivy looked up nervously and expectantly. But it was only Misery. Misery knew how to paw open the levered doorknobs and did not like closed doors in her domain.

"What do you want?" Ivy sniffed.

Misery stared at Ivy. She woofed.

"I don't know what that means," Ivy sniffed.

Misery barked once, loud and angry.

"Okay!" Ivy shrank. "I get it! I'm sorry, okay? Don't you pile on me too!"

Kyle swept into the room. "Beat it, Miz." He chased the dog out and closed the door behind him. Kyle stood with his hand on the doorknob and pierced Ivy with an incredibly long, dad-quality look of disappointment.

"What the actual fuck, Ivy?" he growled. "Do you have any idea how close we just came to complete and utter ruin?"

"I said I was sorry." Ivy began to cry in earnest again.

Kyle shout-whispered through clenched teeth. "Yaknow I fully expect this kind of stupid shit from Dimwit up there." He pointed to the back of the house where Sadie was. "But not from you. You're too smart for this shit. You may be thirteen, but I really thought you had your shit together."

Ivy cried harder.

By a factor of one-hundredth, Kyle softened. Just a bit. "For the love," he growled. "You've got snot on your face. Hang on." He left the room and returned in moments with a box of Puffs.

Ivy said something that resembled gratitude and she began unloading her nose into a dozen tissues.

"I shouldn't have listened to Sadie," Ivy said when she finished blowing. "I'm so sorry. I thought we'd be back before you got home from your handyman stuff. She even told me to leave my phone here with hers because she said you'd be tracking the locators in our phones."

"And it almost worked," Kyle said. "But Pietr was expecting a FedEx package and he was reviewing the doorbell cam video when he saw you two headed out for the pool."

"I could have handled it," Ivy mumbled. "I've been with handsy assholes before. I can take care of myself."

Kyle rubbed his face. "Yeah, your little trick with the seatbelt was a lesser act of genius, for sure. But Dominic Mallory isn't your average neighborhood Lothario. He's seriously demented. He's a fucking rape machine, Ivy. You don't know how close you just came to being raped. And I don't mean 'fucked hard.' I mean raped. He's a really violent piece of shit. I can give you names a half dozen girls who ended up in either a hospital, a psych ward, or sometimes both."

"He's an asshole," Ivy sniffed. "But he can't be that bad. He'd be in jail."

"No!" Kyle shouted. Ivy flinched.

Kyle started holding up counting fingers. "His dad is the Prosecuting Attorney for the Sixth Circuit. That guy is married to his step mom who is a judge for the county. Mallory's birth mother is assistant court clerk for Pasco. And his stepfather is a detective for Hillsboro, but plenty connected around here. That bastard has his own network of people running interference for him and his cadre of rape-machines. Girls don't even bother reporting him anymore. They know it's futile."

"Oh," Ivy blinked. "I didn't know."

"That's why you should fucking listen to me!" Kyle shook two clenched fists in front of his chest.

"I'm not going to apologize again," Ivy sniffed.

"Everything we worked for. All the track we've laid down for college," Kyle spat, "it all almost just went straight down the shitter. We would have crushed that asshole years ago, but even if they started an eight-on-two fight, and there were video cameras everywhere recording it, Pee and I would be the ones who ended up in juvie. That's how it works. That's how the game is rigged. And none of your 'sorrys' would undo that Ivy."

Ivy was sure she could not feel any worse. And then she did.

"Did you fuck his mom?" Ivy asked.

Kyle seemed stunned by the question. "It's complicated."

"So that's why he hates you."

"He hated me a long time before that."

"So fucking his mom was revenge?"

Kyle shook his head and wiped his hands down his face. "No. I didn't know she was his mom. She was just another drunk set of tits who threw herself at me after our set at Pirate Patio one Saturday night. I had no fucking idea who she was." Kyle's anger shifted to embarrassment. "She was just some horny fuck in the back a car in a dark parking lot."

"How did Dominic find out then?" Ivy asked.

Kyle wanted out of the conversation. He paced around and mumbled. "I dunno. One of her girlfriends ratted her out to her husband and there was a big fight or something. I dunno. Then the cop husband came looking for me to kick my ass and figured out that I was underage, and he hushed things up pretty quick. But the damage was done. But they are still together. So... You know. I didn't break anybody up. And she came onto me. So...."

Ivy looked at Kyle.

"What?" shrugged Kyle. "I didn't make Mallory into a rapey psychotic misogynist. He was dogshit a long time before that."

"Is Pietr okay?" Ivy sniffed.

Kyle froze. He weighed his words. "Pete's a long fucking way from okay, Ivy. He's ashamed that he didn't bust Mallory's skull for hitting you. He's internalizing it and that's not pretty."

"It was my fault," Ivy sniffed.

Kyle poked a finger toward Ivy. "Don't say that. Don't ever say that. It's never your fault if a guy is rough with you in the wrong way. You made a mistake. You didn't deserve to get hit for it." Kyle softened and smirked. "Spanked, maybe. But not hit." He winked.

Ivy bubbled out a laugh-cry in response. She could see the end of all the anger, the clouds clearing in the far horizon.

"What can I do?" Ivy asked.

"Nothing," Kyle said. "Just stay close to home. Keep clear of Pietr for a while. When he's ready, he'll come to you. He's way more mad at me right now than you, so just give him some space."

"Okay," Ivy nodded. "Am I still sleeping with you tonight?"

"What?" Kyle said. "Oh. Uh... Yaknow, let's just everybody be cool tonight. You can sleep on Mom's bed or the fold out. Uh, we put the good mattress back on the hide-a-bed, so it's actually pretty comfortable. Sadie will probably be walking around looking for sex organs to glom onto, so if you don't want her sexing you, lock the door wherever you end up."

Kyle was gone.

Ivy tried to wrap her brain around how Operation: Boyfriend had blown up yet again. Amazing. Absolutely A-frickin-MAZING.

Ivy looked through the window and saw three enormous Sandhill Cranes wobbling across the front lawn. They randomly stopped and pecked at the grass.

"That's what I need," Ivy muttered to herself. "I need to pet a crane. Change my luck. Things can't get any worse."

Oh, why not?

She found Kyle organizing tools in the garage.

"Hey," Ivy said, "so you know. I'm just going to step out front."

"Why?" Kye asked.

"Pet some Sandhill Cranes."

"Why?" Kye asked.

"Change my luck."

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Kyle rolled his eyes.

"I'm serious."

"Fine," Kyle shrugged. "Don't go out of earshot."

"Kay."

"Oh," Kyle said, "we've got some blueberries in the fridge that are iffy. Go ahead and feed those to your lepre-cranes. They love blueberries."

"Thanks."

"Wait," said Kyle. "Take Misery with you. MIZ!"

The dog appeared behind Ivy's legs.

Kyle pointed at Ivy. "Follow. Guard."

"Oh, for frick's sake," Ivy rolled her eyes. "She'll scare away the birds."

"No she won't," Kyle said.

Misery followed at Ivy's shins as she walked back through the house. As soon as Ivy stepped out onto the front porch, Misery lay down on the tiles and the cranes began strutting in the opposite direction.

"Wait," Ivy said softly. "I've got blueberries." She accidentally bounced a blueberry off one of the cranes' head. "Sorry," said Ivy. "I thought you'd catch it."

The biggest crane with the brightest crimson tuft between its eyes waddled over and picked up the blueberry. It twitched it into the back of his throat.

"You like that?" Ivy asked. "Lots more where that came from." She threw another blueberry. Then another. Every time the big bird ate one, Ivy threw the next blueberry a little closer to her feet. It worked. The bird was almost as tall as Ivy. As it closed in, Ivy began having second thoughts about close contact. The crane's beak looked sharp, menacing, and entirely too capable of pecking her eye out.

She nervously held out a palm full of berries. The bird looked at her hand curiously. Ivy wondered if it would hurt if the bird pecked at her palm. The bird did not eat from her palm, but instead looked up at her.

"No?" Ivy asked. "Don't trust me?" She held out the plastic box of berries. The bird pecked at it so hard that berries bounced out and flew everywhere. Suddenly Ivy was surrounded by cranes gobbling up the berries around her feet. She froze and tried not to breathe.

The big crane finished the last of the berries and looked up at Ivy.

"You like that?" Ivy asked softly. "We cool?"

The crane looked down. Then his head bumped into Ivy's knee. Once. Twice. Three times.

Ivy reached out slowly. The tips of her fingers barely contacted the silky down of the bird's red crown. That was enough for the bird. It backed up rapidly. Then all three cranes took to wing with a huge, slow downdraft of air past Ivy's face.

"Wow," Ivy said. "If a tree falls in the forest, and there's nobody there to Instagram it, did it even really happen at all."

Misery stood up on the porch abruptly. She looked west. She began to growl.

"What got into you?" Ivy asked. She'd never seen Misery bare her teeth before except to smile.

Then she saw it. It was Dominic's car, cruising down the street, packed with his gang. Ivy wondered if this was how drive-bys started. Her blood ran cold. She made eye contact with Dominic, leaning out of the passenger window. He was grinning.

"Hey Ivy," he called. The car slowed to a stop.

Ivy wanted to run, but wasn't sure that was the smartest play. Misery was having none of it. She was all teeth and made a guttural rumbling sound like a gas-powered weed whacker.

"Hey, Ivy," Dominic repeated. "Sadie said you don't have a dad anymore." Dominic scratched his chin. "She said your dad ran off to the MIddle East after he was convicted of embezzling. With some chick. HIs secretary? Is that right, Ivy? Did you lie to me?"

"Maybe," Ivy said.

"Wow, that's really uncool that you'd lie to me," Dominic said. There was something in Dominic's paternal expression that made Ivy's blood run cold. "Maybe you should come for a ride with me and apologize for telling stories."

"I don't think that's going to happen," Ivy said.

Misery positioned herself in front of Ivy, still growling hard at the car full of boys.

"You don't want me have to come find you, do you, Darlin?" Dominic said through his creepy grin. "You should totally come get right with me now."

Misery had enough. She began barking angrily.

Ivy turned and ran inside, calling in Misery behind her.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: THE BOMB

Ivy was still nervous and shaky. Especially being alone in the house with Sadie with Kyle gone to his band gig with Hurricane Hole and Pietr gone on his date with Twilly.

There was a bit of shouting between the brothers before they drove away. Pietr was in no mood to go on a date and planned to cancel with Twilly before Kyle laid into him with a guilt trip about living up to his commitment to Twilly. Then there was a lot of bickering in Russian after their words got loud.

Apparently Kyle won the debate. Pietr's expression looked like he'd been eating lemons as he stomped out the door to drive Kyle to some bar in a place called Palm Harbor and then pick up Twilly.

Sadie was occupying the television while talking on her phone to friends. Ivy didn't feel like challenging Sadie to pick a communication device; either hang up so Ivy could hear the television, or go somewhere else to talk so Ivy could watch The Next Great Talent. It was typical Sadie to hog a television she wasn't even watching.

The combination of the boys being gone and Sadie being clinically unaware of the dangers that were circling the neighborhood in cars left Ivy jittery. She sat on the lanai and listened with paranoid focus for the sound of car doors opening and closing on the street. Misery kept bumping the back door open with her head and checking on Ivy. Ivy could not love that dog any more than she did. Misery's curious look was immensely comforting.

Ivy's phone rang. It was Kyle.

"Where are you?" He asked tersely. Ivy could hear the chatty bar scene in the background noise.

"Sitting out back."

"Good," Kyle growled. "Stay there. Where is dingbat?"

"Couch."

"Good." Kyle growled. "If she gets within ten steps of the front door, text me."

Ivy didn't like Overly-Paternal Kyle, but this was the price she paid for breaking the rules. Distrust.

Kyle hung up abruptly.

Ivy felt terrible. She had been so close to glory. Kyle had announced his intent to bed her when he got home from his band gig, and now it was off. She had a mortal lock on Kyle's attention, finally, and now it was all back in play. Back in play for sneaky Sadie to steal his attention away when Ivy was making a serious effort to fuck Kyle into being her boyfriend.

She had done so many things wrong. And she still hadn't even called Tad to break up despite a solid week of opportunity.

It was time. The day couldn't get any worse, so she might as well get it over with.

Ivy sighed. She swiped open her phone. Her text pictures of Kyle and Pietr were still hanging in her chat client, unsent. Ivy kept getting distracted before sending the photos along to Poke. Ivy looked them over again. Kyle was so freaking adorable with his sexy expression and his cocked eyebrow; The sign that said: 'SUP, PAULETTE? in perfect script. Ivy's heart thrummed just looking at it. Her thumb forced the scroll down to beautiful, serious Pietr; his glasses in his hand; his piercing, serious eyes waiting patiently for Ivy to get her picture. The math equations formed a crazy pattern wallpaper on the desk under his elbow. There was another strange tingle in her chest looking at Pietr. She thought about how understanding and how awesome Pietr had been about letting her fixate on Kyle. She thought about the gentle way Pietr stroked her cheek after sex, lying in the dark.

"Stop," Ivy grumbled at herself. "You're avoiding making the call."

Ivy thumbed the button to finally send the pictures to Poke. The chat client was filled with incremental numbers sent from Poke.

"122."

"121"

"120."

It made no sense. Ivy scrolled down. Somewhere around the number 98 is where the numbers had started. Before that, at least thirty messages of "Call me!" and "Call me immediately!" and "911!!!! CALL!!! WHERE ARE YOU???"

Apparently Poke had started exaggerating with the numbers at 98, as of that was how many times Poke had attempted to contact Ivy before resorting to just incrementing numbers. Poke was dramatic like that.

"No," Ivy said to herself aloud. "After you call Tad. Stop making excuses, O'Brien. Make the call."

Ivy dialed Tad.

Tad answered on the second ring. "What?" he growled.

"Hey," Ivy was caught off guard. "What's up?"

The phone clicked dead. She must have dropped the connection. She redialed, but it went straight to phonemail.

"Hey, sorry," Ivy said after the beep. "I guess we got a bad cell tower. One of our phones dropped out. Hey, I uh.. I need to... It's really important that I talk to you. Tonight, if you can. I'll be here all night with my phone on, so whenever you can, call me. It won't be too late. Uh... It's important. Kay. Thanks. Talk to you later."

That was odd, Ivy thought.

Her text chimed. It was Poke. "The fuck is Flynn Rider? You backstage at a Disney show or something?"

Poke chimed again with another text. "Holy shit who dat hot ass blond with the laser eyes???"

Ivy smirked. She already knew that Poke would prefer Pietr to Kyle.

"Flynn Rider?" Ivy texted back.

Twenty seconds later Poke sent a google images photo of the animated hero from Disney's Tangled. Cartoon Disney Prince Flynn Rider was making the identical nose-down, eyebrow-cocked, crooked smirk smouldering expression as Kyle. Or rather Kyle was imitating Flynn Rider. Ivy's hair stood up. "That's it!" Ivy said aloud. Poke had captured the weird deja-vu-ness of Kyle that had been eating at Ivy's subconscious since the first moment she saw Kyle cruising across the front lawn. Kyle could -- indeed -- have grown a bit of facial hair and been a Disney park character walking around in a leather vest and putting his arms around smitten ten year old girls while their dads snapped photos.

Ivy's phone rang. Poke.

"Hey Blondie," Poke said. "Long time no communicado."

"Hey gurl." Ivy instinctively folded her feet under her butt, settling in for a long phone chat.

"Da fuck you been, Blondie?"

"My mom actually gave my phone to the Kisselhoff boys," Ivy said. "I just got it back." Not exactly true, but a lot less exhausting to explain than two days of chaos that kept Ivy from finishing her text to Poke.

"Oh. Who are the yum-yums?"

Ivy smiled. "Well, Flynn Rider is the nerdy little accountant douchebag who talks to grown-ups like he's an adult."

Poke took a moment to process Ivy's cryptic comeback. "No way."

"Way."

"That means that the hunkalicious blonde stud is..."

"Fatboy Pietr. Yeah."

"Mother of GOD!"

"Dem little boys grow up nice, don't they?"

"Wow!"

"And... Are you ready for this?" Ivy grinned.

"Oh shit. Which one kissed you? Please tell me it was Pietr. Please. Please. Tell me it was Pietr and tell me suh-loooow."

Ivy laughed. "A lot more than kissing."

"Holy smokes!" Poke shouted. Ivy had to pull the phone away from her ear. "You gave him a handy?"

"Poke," Ivy felt the smirk grip her cheeks, "I gave them both handys."

"Seriously?"

"I gave them each a handy while I was sucking the other one."

"Huhn? What? That makes no sense."

"I sucked them both at the same time."

Stunned silence.

"Before they took turns screwing me," Ivy continued. "At the same time. Well, you know. One screwed me while I sucked the other."

"Dammit," Poke growled in disappointment. "For a second there I thought you were serious."

"Hand on my mother's head," Ivy said.

"Bullshit," Poke growled.

"Bulltrue."

"You?" Poke said, still disbelieving. "I haven't even done two different guys in the same week, and you double-bubbled two Bachelorette finalists?"

"I've kind of been going back and forth," Ivy said. "I'm like their shared girlfriend. But yeah. Sometimes they cross swords and I've got my hands full. Very full."

"Holy shit."

"Yep."

"Holy shit! You fucking slut!"

"I'll be coming back to Georgia a much more experienced woman," Ivy said. "That's for darn sure."

"Gosh. You think you know somebody," Poke said.

"Yeah," Ivy sighed. "But don't say anything to Tad. I still haven't called him to break up. Or rather, I did, but something is weird with his phone."

A long silence ensued.

"Poke?" Ivy said. "You still there?"

"Uhhhhhh...." Poke sounded alarmed. "Uh, Ivy?"

"What?"

"You really have no idea, do you Blondie?"

"No idea about what?"

Another long silence ensued.

"Poke? What's going on? Did something happen to Tad?"

Poke's voice was terse. "Are you sitting down?"

"Yyyeah?"

"Tad hooked up with Hina Ravani."

"What? Seriously?"

"It's official," Poke said. "More than official. It's like engraved on a trophy."

Ivy was stunned. "Huh!" Her stunned confusion slowly gave way to relief. Somehow, Ivy felt a ripping pang of jealousy move through her chest. "Well that's okay. I guess. Huhn. Hina is kind of a bitch, but she's probably more Tad's speed. She's definitely putting out, so maybe his balls aren't perpetually blue now."

"Blondie, they've been a thing since before you left Alpharetta. I've been trying to tell you. Like a week after the Gary thing. Like right after the last time I talked to you."

Ivy laughed. "No. That can't be right. I talked to him since then. I talked to him right before I left for Florida."

"You chatted with him on TrueChat." Poke said.

"Yeah." Ivy said. And then the curiosity cricket bat hit her in the chest. "How did you know that?"

"And you sexted with him on video," Poke said.

Ivy blinked. "How... How... How do you know th--"

"He sent that video fucking everywhere, Ivy." Poke said. "Everywhere. Fucking Moochi and Snake both have it. My

have it. Your big pink babygate is all the fuck over this town, Ivy."

Ivy's mouth opened and closed, trying to shape words. Her scalp went numb. She couldn't seem to breathe.

"You are screwing with me," Ivy whispered.

"Why would I do that?" Poke snipped. "I've been trying to fucking call you for the past week to tell you. Like there's anything you could do about it at this point anyway."

"When... When did he..."

"The day you left for Florida. If it makes you feel any better, I don't think it was Tad. I heard Hina found the video on Tad's computer, and she's the one who took it and sent it everywhere. You can hear Tad talking in the video, but somebody blocked him out in the video. Like put a mask over his little cam box in the corner. And some of it is edited and it jumps around. Like they were trying to protect Tad from parts that made him sound dumb. Dumb-er."

"You've seen it," Ivy muttered.

"Blondie, listen to me! Everybody has seen it! I get asked about it six times a day! I can't go to the skate park, or the PetrolMart without somebody asking me questions about it. Mostly they're just creepy-fake questions to let me know they saw it."

"Ohhhhh," Ivy's head spun, "shhhhhiiiiiiiit."

"And what were you doing?" Poke asked. "Straddling your tablet? You can see like all the way up into your spleen."

Ivy pushed a hand across her numb scalp. "I am totally going to throw up."

"It gets worse," Poke grumbled.

"How could it get worse?" Ivy moaned.

"Nickname. Everybody is calling you Arby O'Brien."

"What? Why?"

"'Cause. You know."

"Poke. I don't know anything, apparently. Why Arby?"

'''Cause your cooter has... You know... Your big labia. Like its a sloppy roast beef sandwich. Arby's."

Ivy ran out of the lanai onto the lawn and threw up violently. She spat and mumbled something.

"What did you say?" Poke asked. "I didn't hear you."

"I said," Ivy spat, "I'm going to kill that fucking Sandhill Crane."

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THE WHITEBOARD

Ivy finally fell asleep between hard crying jags. She was fetal on Desdemona's proper memory foam mattress. Every time she'd drift off, a bad dream would fire through her synapses. She'd wake up and a moment later remember that her life was ruined, and she'd start crying again.

Ivy had not been so out of control with emotion since her mother told her that her dad had ran away to the Middle East with Gloria instead of showing up for intake on his prison sentence. And that her dad's bond was tied to the house and they were going to lose their home because of it.

Ivy was blinded by the bad. All Ivy could think was that there was no way she was ever going back to Georgia. Some way, somehow, she was going to live in the Kisselhoff's guest room. Poke could visit her on Spring Break. Ivy would have to take her chances being rape-bait for Dominic Mallory and his thugs by going to the local schools and walking to the bus stop. It was still better odds than the humiliation that awaited her back in Alpharetta.

Arby O'Brien.

Ivy hitched and wailed again until she dropped away from pure exhaustion.

She woke in the early hours to mattress movement. At first she thought it was Misery crawling up next to her. Then Ivy smelled Kyle.

"Shhhh," he said, "just me."

"Hey," Ivy squeaked. "What are you doing?"

Kyle pulled off his shirt. "Fucking you."

"I thought I was in Sex Time Out," Ivy said.

"Pietr's asleep," Kyle said. "So as long as you don't wake him up screaming my name, it's all good."

"What does Pietr have to do with it?" Ivy asked.

"He's the one on the ledge after the run-in with the douchebags." Kyle pulled off his jeans and threw them in the floor. "You not crawling in my bed tonight was more about not pushing Pietr's buttons than it was me being mad at you."

"But you were mad at me."

"I was. But now I'm not."

"Now you're horny."

"Fuck yeah," Kyle's smile lit a lantern in his dark silhouette. "I'm always horny. Get your clothes off."

"Didn't you hook up with somebody at the bar?"

"Did or didn't," Kyle said. "None of your beeswax. I'm here and my cock is hard. Now get your clothes off. Now."

Ivy wasn't sure what to say. "This isn't your bed," she said.

"What?"

"This isn't your bed. I didn't come to your bed. You aren't the boss of me. Not here."

"The fuck are you talking about, girl," Kyle growled. "C'mon. I'm dying for some of that tight spinner pussy of yours. I've been thinking about you all night. Get naked."

Ivy didn't move.

Kyle undressed her, impatiently and a bit rough. He pushed her legs apart and lowered into her stiff body. The tip of his cock probed her slot. "You're not very wet," he grumbled. He forced his way into Ivy. Lowering his stomach to hers. It was exactly what she had wanted for so long, but now she didn't want it at all. The big dick in a dry pussy was painful in a weird way.

"Huh," grumbled Kyle. "So that's the way you want to play it, huh? Okay."

Kyle grabbed Ivy's wrists and held them locked over his head while he began to thrust hard and forcefully. Her breasts bounced up into her neck.

Ivy tried to let go and get into the moment. She was being fucked by a beautiful boy, but her heart was too broken to engage.

Kyle stopped thrusting abruptly. "What is going on?" he asked. "You aren't really mad at me, are you?"

"No," sniffed Ivy. The dam was cracking again.

Kyle pulled up and out of Ivy. His ridgid dick smacked him hard in the stomach. "Talk to me."

Ivy opened her mouth, but all that came out was a mournful wail of hitching sobs.

"Hey," Kyle sounded concerned. "Hey sorry. Sorry. Don't be like that. Hey, I didn't... Did something more happen with Mallory than you told me? Did he really hurt you... In that way?"

Ivy shook her head in the negative, but she was crying too hard to form words.

"What?" Kyle stood up off the bed and looked down at Ivy, concerned. "What's going on? What's wrong?" His penis was deflating.

Ivy cried harder. Kyle left the room and came back in a few minutes with Pietr. They turned on the light. Ivy was still crying hard, too hard to talk.

"Did you rape her?" Pietr looked at Ivy's nudity.

"No!" Kyle said. "I don't think. I mean, I didn't do anything rough. She was a basketcase already. I think Mallory did something to her."

Pietr looked concerned and sat on the side of the mattress. "Did Mallory hurt you? Did Mallory rape you, Ivy?" he asked softly. "Tell me. You can tell me the truth."

Pietr's soft concern just made everything worse. It just reinforced how great he was and how shitty Thaddeus Lourette was, and what a terrible judge of character Ivy "Arby" O'Brien was. She shook her head no.

"That's what she said when I asked her," Kyle said. "But she's fucking hysterical."

Pietr's head snapped up at Kyle. "Hey bro. How about you turn it down to seven, okay?"

Kyle raised defensive palms and grimaced.

Pietr gently touched Ivy's forehead. "You can talk to me, baby. I'm listening. What's wrong, Ivy?" Pietr's demeanor was perfect, but it made Ivy perfectly insane and she wailed even harder. Pietr pulled back his hand like he'd been bit. He stood up.

Both boys looked like they were staring at a car crash and wondering where to begin extracting the body from the wreckage,

Ivy wanted to stop crying and maybe even hug Pietr. But the moment was all so BIG she couldn't seem to get on top of it long enough to calm down.

"Should we call her mom?" Kyle asked.

It was the worst thing he could have asked. Ivy cried even harder in terror. Both boys flinched.

"Call Zee," Pietr whispered. "She'll know what to do."

Zooey walked into the room with the boys. She looked at Ivy, concerned. Ivy knew that for Zooey to be in the Kisselhoff boys' house in the middle of the night when her parents were super strict, something humiliating had to have happened behind the scenes. Ivy felt humiliated and guilty all over again and wailed.

Just by doing absolutely nothing, she was screwing up good people's lives.

"Out," Zooey said. She had been looking in Ivy's eyes but the boys both knew Zooey was talking to them. They backed out of the room. Zooey shut the door and locked it. She turned out the light. A moment later she crawled onto the mattress and spooned into Ivy's back. Her fingernails combed into Ivy's hair, soothing her. Zooey said nothing. She asked nothing. There were no expectations. Zooey just held Ivy for a long time and let her cry it out.

Eventually Ivy ran out of tears.

Still Zooey said nothing. She hugged Ivy and stroked her scalp. Any mammal with a Y chromosome would have started asking questions or talking at that point. Zooey didn't say a goddamn thing. She was not on a timetable. She knew when Ivy was ready, Ivy would talk.

"I'm so sorry," Ivy stuttered. She snorted snot and Zooey reached back and found a tissue box on the end table beside the couch arm. She fed Ivy a big ball of tissues. Again, at best a male would have handed her one tissue. Zooey knew that one tissue wasn't going to feed the bulldog. Ivy honked a metric ton of snot into the mass of Kleenex.

"Don't be sorry," Zooey said. "You don't owe anyone an apology. At least not me."

"I fucked everything up," Ivy coughed.

"Apparently," Zooey said. "I'm guessing from past experience that you must have either had a bad run in with a boy, or you ran a homeless guy over while driving drunk."

Ivy stopped crying long enough to turn Zooey's words over in her mind.

"Oh shit," said Zooey. "Was that out loud?"

Ivy laughed. It was a cry-laugh, but a laugh nonetheless.

"I totally got you in trouble," Ivy sniffed. "With your parents. They don't know you are here."

"My dad drove me here," Zooey said. "He watched me walk in the front door."

"Really?" Ivy asked. "He let you come to your boyfriend's house at three in the morning?"

"Why not?"

"Uhm, because he's a preacher and super uptight?"

Zooey chuckled. "Precisely! And because he's a preacher, I only had to pull three words out of my back pocket: Crisis Counseling Ministry."

"He believed that?" Ivy asked.

Zooey sat up on her elbow. "Bitch, if this ain't Crisis Counseling, what is?"

Ivy laughed, harder and more sincere. "Good point."

"You don't have to say shit to me," Zooey said. "You owe me nothing. Trust me. I know what a piece of shit Dominic Mallory is. I get it."

Ivy shook her head. "No! No, it's really not him! I know the brothers told you that, but it's really not that. It's something... Something back home."

"Oh," Zooey sounded relieved. "Your Georgia boy?"

Ivy nodded and blew her nose again.

"Whew. Okay. Good. I mean... Not good, but better than I feared."

"Not really," Ivy said. "Either way, my reputation is shit."

Zooey took a deep breath. "I'm here, Honey."

There was no way Ivy could unpack it all. But somehow she did.

Zooey and a freshly showered-and-clothed Ivy stood in Pietr's room. Pietr was at his desk. Kyle was on the blowjob chair. The door was locked and Zooey was whisper-shouting to prevent Sadie from hearing.

"Don't give me that shit, Pietr Demitri!" Zooey shook her finger at him. "I know you can do it! I've seen you do it!"

Pietr looked miserable. "Zooey, that was two years ago."

"So do it again!" Zooey whisper-shouted. "Do it for her! Look at her! She's devastated!"

"It's not that easy," Kyle pleaded. "We don't even know if our client-side trojan injection even still works. Pietr wrote that hack two years ago. Microsoft and Apple and the telecoms and all the virus protection companies, they are constantly patching for those kinds of exploits. We don't even know if it will work. And besides, there's the other part you're forgetting. The con. Sandy's uncle isn't going to take that risk again for a stranger."

"Don't worry about that part," Zooey said. "I'll take care of the con."

"She lives in Atlanta!" Pietr said. "Not in Chapel Hill."

"They have a thing called airplanes," Zooey said.

"Who's going to buy that ticket?" Kyle asked defensively.

"Really?" Zooey was offended.

"We're going to buy the ticket," Pietr whispered.

"Oh that's great!" Kyle threw up his hands and flopped back into the chair.

"Don't be such a skinflint, Kyle Kisselhoff!" Zooey shook her finger at Kyle.

"I really have no idea what any of you are talking about," Ivy sniffed. "Zooey said you'd know how to fix this."

"They do," Zooey said.

"We did," emphasized Pietr. "Ivy, I can't promise you anything. It was a minor miracle that we once fixed something pretty close to what happened to you once before. I don't know that the door is still open on the plan we used. I had a... A kind of virus that I wrote. And somehow it worked for Zooey's friend. Worked way better than we ever hoped. I can't promise you that we can make lightning strike twice."

"How would your computer program even know where to go to delete that video on everybody's computers," Ivy asked.

Pietr nodded. "It doesn't know. We just count on water flowing twice in very similar directions. But it has to happen soon after the first file was spread, so we have the best chance of water flowing in the same kind of way twice. When did this guy send out the video for the first time?"

"The day I arrived here."

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure."

Pietr looked at Kyle. "Eight days."

Kyle shook his head. "No way." Kyle started counting out the ways it wouldn't work with a series of extended fingers. "Too many days gone. We don't know if your exploit still works. We've got to find the con man, train the con man, fly the con man to fucking Atlanta.... Execute the con. And the United Sisterhood of Omega Phi Mothers lands here next Saturday. No way."

"We could do it," Pietr stroked his chin. "Maybe. If the exploit hasn't been patched."

"The horses are too far gone from the barn," Kyle shook his head. Ivy's blood pressure spiked every time Kyle asserted himself to stop Pietr from trying to help.

"I know," Pietr said. "We'd need to pair it with a silent scrape of everybody's contact list and try to push through a secondary whitenoise executable."

"Holy shit," Kyle grumbled. "That's getting very black hat. We can't get caught or we're fucked. Can you even do that?"

"Maybe. If you'll help with some rootkit dev. We're also going to need a copy of the video to get the compression payload signature. Ivy, is there any way you can get your hands on a copy of the video?"

Ivy nodded. The thought of the boys or Zooey seeing her play with her pussy and cavort like a whore for that lowlife asshole Tad made Ivy feel like throwing up again. "My girl Poke has a copy."

"There's just not enough time," Kyle said.

"Stop being a pussy, Kyle!" Zooey shouted.

"I'm not a pussy!" Kyle shouted back. "And we haven't even mentioned that Wednesday afternoon, Pee has the most important day of his---"

"SHUT UP!" Pietr shouted at Kyle.

Wednesday?" Ivy asked.

"Don't worry about that," Pietr said. "Ivy, if we can do this, you are going to have to help."

"Of course."

Pietr shook his head. "No. Listen. In order for us to get the virus to travel the same path as your video, in order for water to travel the same way twice, we are going to need some bait. And you have to be the bait."

Ivy blinked. "I'd do anything."

Zooey put her hand on Ivy's shoulder. "He means we're going to have to take some cheesecake photos of you. And send them to Tad and his girlfriend. You have to do that."

"Why would I send more embarrassing pictures?"

"Because Tad will send the pictures to his same friends as the video. Especially if he thinks you are desperate and he wants to embarrass you even more for trying to win him back. It'll be a big ego thing for him. And those friends will send your cheesecake photos... and the virus to the same friends. And so on. And then... boom. Everything disappears.

"What if you miss somebody?" Ivy asked. "What if water doesn't travel the exact same path?"

Pietr nodded. "That's where the con comes in," he said. "If Zooey really knows an adult who is going to play along with this and possibly go to jail for a stranger." Pietr stared at Zooey.

"I said I know somebody," Zooey said.

"It can't be a kid," Kyle said. "It has to be an adult."

Zooey was clearly annoyed that the brothers were second guessing her. "I know somebody! I did community theater at the JuCo with this guy who is super into me. He'll do it. He's only 26, but he's nine feet tall. He's perfect. He looks the part. He'll do it! I'm sure. I'll have to fuck him, but he'll do it."

"You bring the con," Pietr said. "I'll set up the operation room and the whiteboard."

Kyle sighed. "Okay. If we're in, we're in all the way. Pee, get on the netsec bulletin board and see if your exploit is still valid. I'll look up flight times and costs. Zooey, do not waste our time with some college guy who doesn't look the part."

"I won't!" Zooey snipped.

Ivy's heart began to lighten. She had no idea what the hell was happening, but there was hope. And if anybody could do the impossible, it was the Brothers Kisselhoff.

Zooey led Ivy from Pietr's room by the elbow.

"There aren't enough words to thank you," Ivy said.

"Shhh..." Zooey said when they were on the stairs. "Uh, Honey, besides the nudie pics we have to take of you, there's something else..."

"What?" Ivy asked. "Name it."

"This guy that I need to help us?" Zooey said. "I already called to see if he was interested. You might have to fuck him too. Like both of us at the same time. Can you handle that?"

Ivy took a deep breath. "Yeah. If you're there, I can do it."

"Okay, He's not a troll. He's actually kind of cute. But don't mention to Pietr that fucking him is part of the plan. As far as he's concerned, you're just along to wait in the car if something goes wrong. Like moral support."

"Why shouldn't I tell Pietr? Why not Kyle too?"

"Because I think Pietr loves you and I know for a fact that Kyle will just cum harder on your tits if you tell him a slutty story about fucking other guys. That's why."

"You guys are so weird," Ivy mumbled.

Zooey nodded grimly. "Sweetheart, you don't know the half of it."

By sundown, Pietr's room had been transformed into a war room. The whiteboard that had may have come from Dale's garage was filled corner-to-corner with a flowchart of strange words. Some of the words already had a line through them. Akamai. Rapid 7. Arborsuite. Pietr had his glasses on and no time for chit chat as his attention was glued to two monitors filled with very boring looking grids of code.

Ivy walked around the whiteboard to see the other side of the whiteboard filled with a calendar of the boys' commitments for the next week and the rare open spots where they could concentrate on Operation Ivy. Seeing all their obligations mapped out was staggering. Pietr's two-a-day football practices. Kyle's band practices. Two mow days. Three handyman jobs, including one called "Rewire faulty attic circuit - V. Davis. Est. 3 hrs." Ivy could not believe two teen boys were working on the electricity in someone else's home. Crazy. There were evening blocks for something called "Metatag." All the things the boys did for personal development (the gym, Russian lessons, Khan academy, something called "screenplay") had been erased to open up time for Operation Ivy. Ivy could barely see the ghost afterimage of where those words had been. Wednesday had a big midday block of four hours that was just labeled "Pietr." That must represent what Kyle had called "The most important day of his life." Ivy very much wanted to ask what was going on with that orange square.

Everything on the whiteboard seemed to be flowing to a big event on Thursday. That was when their computer virus was supposed to kick in and start deleting her pictures. Then Zooey's con man was supposed to do his thing on Friday and Saturday. Sunday the mothers returned to Tampa.

All the calendar blocks on the whiteboard were color coded. Pietr was orange. Kyle was red. Zooey was blue. And there were calendar blocks for Ivy in purple marker, most of them sharing a blue outline because they involved Zooey.

Monday morning. "Buy lingerie w/Z." Next to Zooey's blue "Drive IV to buy lingerie."

Monday, 6 pm: "Photoshoot at museum."

Tues: 8 pm: "Help Z w con"

Ivy shuddered. That must be the part where she had to have sex with Zooey's stranger. It was on a calendar in two colors. It was real. She was actually going to do it. There was a time for it and everything.

Ivy knew she wasn't supposed to bother the brothers while they were concentrating on their computer coding and making phone calls every two minutes. They were both on-edge and their communication with one another was tense and made little sense to Ivy. But curiosity was eating her alive. She placed a gentle hand on Pietr's shoulder. He flinched as his concentration broke.

"Sorry," Ivy said.

Pietr looked over his shoulder, first annoyed, then patiently. "What's up?"

"I'm taking sexy photos at a museum?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"You'll understand when you get there. It's not like an art museum. It's a historic plantation home from the 1840s. We've got a contact there. Trust me."

"I really don't understand." Ivy said.

Pietr sighed."The place looks like what you think the inside of the Playboy mansion looks like," he explained. "It's very ornate and romantic. It doesn't look like the inside of a spec home." Pietr pointed at the ceiling over his head. "We need the bait photos of you to be spectacular. It's important."

"Okay," Ivy said. The uncertainty in her voice was unmistakable.

"Trust me," Pietr looked back at his keyboard. "Details are everything."

Ivy drew her fingers across the long swath of Pietr's huge shoulders. "I trust you," she whispered. And she did. She absolutely trusted Pietr with her life.

The one camper who wasn't rowing the canoe for Ivy was Sadie. She kept interrupting the brothers and trying to lure them to take her to the mall or have sex or take her to the beach or take her to have sex on the beach.

Whenever they blew her off she got a little more irritated. Sadie wasn't used to being told "no." She didn't like it much.

Zooey took Sadie to the grocery store. The plan was to cook a big meal for the five of them. Sadie wasn't into cooking for others. Sadie was into others cooking for her. As Zooey and Sadie were prepping the recipe on the kitchen island, Sadie kept wandering off from the kitchen to take another phone call. Zooey gave Ivy a frustrated look and raised her hands to the ceiling. Ivy stepped in and started chopping celery.

"The whole point of cooking was to keep Sadie busy and stop her complaining," Zooey grumbled. "We could have just ordered pizza."

"No problem," Ivy smiled. "Happy to help."

"You are a great kid, Ivy," Zooey said. "I went to the wall for you because I can tell you're going to be the kind of friend who lasts a lifetime."

"I'd like that," Ivy said.

After the low-carb version of jambalaya over riced cauliflower that tasted better than it smelled, the boys immediately went back to the war room.

Zooey pulled Ivy by the elbow into a whisper as they were loading the dishwasher. "Hey. Ivy. Can I ask you a flavor?"

"Anything," Ivy whispered back. "Just name it."

"I'm crawling out of my skin," Zooey said. "I haven't been laid right since the last time I was here. I really want some time with the boys tonight."

"No problem," Ivy nodded. "Sure." Ivy was disappointed by the realization that she was being pushed away from a one-on-one with Kyle for the ten thousandth time. But what else was she going to say? Zooey just jump-started the brothers into helping her accomplish the impossible. There was no way Ivy was going to deny Zooey some make-up sex with the boys.

"And I'm one hundred percent expecting to have Sadie inserting herself into the tangle," Zooey said. "I'm not only going to have to share the brothers, but I'm going to suck a bucketful of her pussy off their dicks, and if Kyle takes a notion that I have to lick her 'til she cums, while he rests up and recovers, then... Well, that's what I'll have to do."

Ivy squinted. "You want me to lick Sadie?"

Zooey laughed. "No! No, sorry. What I mean is that I'm already going to have to fight Sadie for some proper fuck time with the boys. Is there any way I could get you to maybe sit out tonight? Not join the frey?"

"I don't think I've even been invited," Ivy said.

"You could invite yourself," Zooey countered. "Kyle might even invite you. It isn't like there's an OSHA sign over their beds that set a maximum capacity for horny bitches. And if Kyle tells you that you have to be in the bed, then of course you have to be there. But if he just suggests it..."

"I don't want to... You know... With Sadie," Ivy said. "I'm pretty sure I've already tasted her on the boys. I don't want to be pushed face-first into her whoo-ha. So, no problem. Like I said, anything for you."

Zooey looked worried. "Uh, thanks. But, for the thing we have to do with Noah, the guy I told you about... You know that might mean that you and I have to kind of put on a show for him, right?"

Ivy nodded. "I kind of suspected that." It was a lie. That part had never crossed her mind.

Zooey looked nervous. "And that means that you and I might have to... Well, probably have to... You know. Explore each other. Right? That's kind of part of the deal of being on the girl-girl side of a threesome equation. Right?"

"You I have no problem with," Ivy said. "I'll earn my L-badge with you, sure. I'd just rather steer clear of Sadie."

"Completely understood," Zooey said.

Ivy's heart began to race so fast that she got dizzy. She felt a sheen of nervous sweat coat the underside of her boobs. Did she just agree to have lesbian sex with Zooey while messing around with some stranger boy? Was this real?

Ivy's mind flashed back to her first hour in the house alone with the boys. She remembered how effortlessly Kyle held her aloft in his arms as he cooed to her in that hypnotic voice of his, looking deep in her eyes.

"We're going to peel back a lot of the bullshit and you're going to get a rare opportunity to see how guys really think and guys really act. And then you can go back to Georgia and you can do-or-not-do anything you want with that. You're going to see and experience a lot of things that you might not be used to. Or be comfortable with at first. But we're going to trust you to be cool with us, and you've got to trust us to be cool with you."

On one hand, the awful thing that Tad did, he would have done anyway, even if Ivy had stayed in Georgia. Perhaps fate had put its hand on Ivy's head and lead her to Florida to put her in the care of the only two boys on the planet who wanted to help save her.

On the other hand, this rabbit hole of sexual exploration was getting dangerously deep, very quickly. It was way more than she bargained for that night when she forced herself to mount the stairs in the dark, found Pietr's bedroom door locked and slipped into Kyle's bed instead. A little voice inside her head kept wondering how bad it would be to be the fifth wheel in an orgy with everyone else in the house tonight.

And if Ivy had a third hand, she would use it to choke the life out of that damn Cuban Sandhill Crane who changed her luck from bad to worse. It was one of Poke's pokeisms. Whenever somebody said, "Well things can't get any worse," Poke would point a finger at their face and say "Never challenge Worse."

Indeed. Never challenge Worse.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: CHEESECAKE

Ivy had never been inside an adult toy store before. She was curious about what could possibly be behind the cheesy boudoir bustiers and panty sets in the window and the blackout panels protecting young eyes like hers from seeing into the store.

It was as sordid as she expected. The walls were lined with railboards and pegboard extensions, just like the cheap imported jewelry stores at the mall. Only instead of earrings and rhinestone-encrusted hair bows, the pegs displayed rows and rows and rows of blister packs of plastic penises. Whoever was in charge of manufacturing these plastic penises must have never seen an actual penis because precious few of them looked like an actual penis.

Some of them looked like a chain of rubber balls that had been melted together. Some of them looked like tuning forks. Most of them were pink or blue or purple or not-penis-colored.

"You know she can't be in here!" the kid behind the counter yelled at Zooey. "You're going to get me fired, Zoe!"

"That's okay, Val," Zoe smiled back. "I'm going to keep her in the dressing room. No one will see her."

"She's even younger than the last one!" the guy pleaded. "Seriously. You are going to get me in so much trouble!"

"Don't worry!" Zooey hustled wide-eyed Ivy to the back of the store. "This won't take a minute. We'll be out of here in a half hour. I promise!"

"Christ! Zooey!" shouted the man.

"Move. Move," prodded Zooey, pushing Ivy toward a door in the back of the shop.

Ivy was really curious to stop and look at some whips and leather paddles, but Zooey pushed her along.

"Stay here," whispered Zooey as Ivy loaded into the grungy changing room. "And take your clothes off. Leave your panties on. What size nylons do you wear?"

"Petite medium."

"Aces. I'll be back in a sec."

In the room alone, Ivy couldn't help but scan the cobwebbed ceiling, looking for cameras. It was that kind of place. Seedy. Creepy. Somehow still exciting and forbidden.

Zooey returned with a bunch of ridiculously sexy outfits on hangers. The whole shebang: Bustiers with demi-cup tops, and matching garter sets. She balanced a stack of shoe boxes on her hip.

"Wow. How much are these," Ivy's fingers instinctively reached for the price tag of a bustier. "I don't have a whole lot of money left."

Zooey swatted away Ivy's hand. "Brothers are paying for it. Don't worry about it. "Slip the red one on."

"Red is not my color."

"Shut up and put the red one one, bitch."

"Aye-aye, Cap'n," Ivy sighed.

Ivy slithered into the getup. She slid the frilly panties over her own. She snapped on the garter. The straps-without-stockings bounced against her thighs as she turned and regarded herself in the mirror. She looked like some turn-of-the-century harlot about to be fileted by Jack the Ripper in a BBC historical. She looked like a sorority girl in a bad Halloween costume.

"Bit of th'ole twisty-lou, Guv'nuh?" Ivy said in a cockney accent, twirling her hair. "Three farthings f'the knees. Two quid f'the bum?"

"Okay," Zooey grimaced. "Red is not your color. Try the black."

The black bustier was much more classic. Less ruffles, more dominatrix. More laces and leather. (Or at least decent pleather.) Ivy's boobs teetered in the cups, her nipples just a millimeter below the narrow lace lines. The top arc of her areolas hinted at the pinkness of the suck-nubbins below. Her tits looked like giant scoops of vanilla ice cream about to fall out of a pair of too-small cones onto the sidewalk.

"That's better," Zooey nodded. "What do you think?"

"Jeez," Ivy blinked. "Is that me? I want to fuck myself, that's so hot."

"Yeah, you look great. We find the right nylons for that and we might have a winner," Zooey said. "Here. Hold up these shoes. I want to take a picture." Zooey handed Zooey an absurd pair of platform stilettos that no woman could actually walk in. "No, don't put them on. Just hold them up." Zooey snapped a picture with her phone. She thumbed something of an explanation and sent it.

"Sending that to Kyle?" Ivy asked.

Zooey shook her head and stared at her phone. "No. The photographer."

"What!" Ivy gasped. "I'm trying to undo some embarrassing photos and you are sending more of them to some dude I don't know?"

"Relax," Zooey mumbled. "Our photog isn't a guy. It's a girl. Raquel. She's one of Kyle's. You're fine."

"What does that mean?" Ivy asked. "One of Kyles?"

"She's one of Kyle's collars." Zooey was texting something.

"Collars? What?"" Ivy asked.

Zooey looked up. "Huhn? Uh, what part didn't you understand? Raquel is collared to Kyle. Kyle owns her collar."

Ivy blinked.

"Oh you have no idea, do you?" Zooey asked dryly.

"Clearly not," Ivy said.

"You read 50 Shades, right?"

"Sure. Kyle is into bondage?" Ivy shivered. There was something about the idea of sex bondage that terrified Ivy and electrified her lower stomach at the same time. She'd never even talked about it with Poke. The mere thought that Kyle might be able to take her to that crazy place made her dizzy.

"No," Zooey said. "Well yeah, but no. Kyle is into everything. The collar thing isn't really bondage. It's just ownership. Kyle owns Raquel." Zooey's phone made a chime. "Raquel said that's a good one. A definite possibility. Take that off and try the purple one."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Ivy asked. "Can you get the zipper? And loosen that lace on the right? Thanks."

"What does it mean to be owned?" Zooey shrugged. "You know. Pretty much what it sounds like. I guess it's different between every Dom and sub. Kyle's not insane about it. He's 15. Raquel is 16. He understands that having a collared girl means he can't totally strip her of her right to say no. She has a dad and cheerleading and a job at the yogurt store and everything. Kyle doesn't ask his collars for anything crazy. They can even date other guys, but Kyle has to say it's okay. She has to get Kyle's permission."

"Wow!" Ivy's head spun. "Holy crap!"

Zooey shrugged again. "Careful. Don't rip it. I don't want to have to buy it if we aren't going to use it."

"Sorry," Ivy said. "It's so freaking tight. How many collared girls does Kyle have, anyway?"

Zooey blew air through her lips and her eyes rolled up and to the right. "Uh... Three? I think? Raquel. Yuni. You'll meet Yuni tonight, too. She'll be doing your make-up. And whatsherface, Victoria. I hardly ever see her. I think I've been in the same room with Victoria less than six times in my life. She goes to a Catholic school. Oh! And Sadie, of course. So four. Four collars. Sadie was Kyle's first collar. But that goes back years. Kyle regrets collaring her, but collaring a girl is as much a commitment for the Dom as it is the sub. So..." Zooey tightened some side laces on the purple bustier. "That's not terrible," Zooey looked Ivy over. "That shade of violet goes good with your hair. Not as good as the black though. Here." Zooey pulled a purple pair of sexy shoes out of a box. "Hold these."

Zooey snapped another picture, thumbed something into her phone and sent it.

"Are you collared?" Ivy asked.

Zooey took a long pause. "No." She said flatly.

"Why not?"

Zooey's bottom lip did something weird. "It's complicated. We talked about it. But the commitment wasn't there. Not the last time we talked about it."

"Whose commitment?" Ivy asked. "Yours or his?"

"Theirs," Zooey said. "My relationship with Pietr kind of complicates things. I'd almost consider giving my collar to Pietr before I'd give it to Kyle."

"Oh wow," Ivy said. "I didn't think about the Pietr factor. How many girls has Pietr collared?"

"None," Zooey said. She looked at her phone as it chirped. "Okay, try on those shoes. Rocky wants to see the extension of your legs and the rise of your ass with the shoes on."

Ivy held the wall and tried to get her little bubble toes into the tight confines of the high heels without falling over. "It's freezing in here," Ivy shuddered.

"Apparently," Zooey smiled, nodding at the hard nipples breaking the otherwise smooth satin sheen of the bustier cups.

"I'm going to kill myself in these shoes," Ivy grumbled. "My feet aren't big enough for six inch heels."

"Only four inches," Zooey said. "Your little feet make it look like it's higher. Jesus, I thought Yuni had small feet."

"Why hasn't Pietr collared a girl?" Ivy took small steps, testing her balance.

"Dunno," Zooey said. "Just hasn't. He's had plenty of girls who wanted to give him their collar. Why do you ask? I thought you were into Kyle?"

"Yeah," Ivy was suddenly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, still uncertain about the dynamic between Zooey and Kyle. "But Pietr is a sweetheart."

"He sure is," Zooey said. "Hold on. Pose. Put your right foot out more. Hands on your hips. Look sexy. Sexier. Pouty lips. Throw your hair back. Good." Zooey snapped the photo and showed it to Ivy. "This looks good too."

"Not as good as the black one."

"Yeah, but there are other factors. The background. The color of the room and the bed sheets and stuff. Sometimes color-contrasting the set is more important than a really sexy outfit that fades into a light or dark background."

"Oh," Ivy had no idea what Zooey just said.

"You think maybe you'd like to give Kyle your collar?" Zooey asked. "Not that I'm sure he'd take it. But I can feel him out if you want. I know he was looking for one more collar, a blonde. It's a big commitment, and you're kind of young. You might consider dating a few more guys first before you decide. There might be another boy you'd rather be collared to. Try the lamé outfit. Wait. Raquel wants to see some butt shots. Turn around. Good. Bend over. Good. More, put your palms flat on your shins. Like that. Legs a little farther apart. Wow. You've got a great ass, Ivy. You are going to crush this photoshoot tonight."

"So is there a real collar?" Ivy asked. "Like an actual bondage collar? A dog collar? Or is it like a choker? Or a necklace? Or is the whole collar thing just a metaphor?"

"No, there's an actual collar," Zooey said. "I've never been to a collar ceremony because I'm not collared. But I'm sure there's a real, actual collar involved in the ceremony. I've seen 'em. Kyle keeps those ceremonial collars. When the girls are around Kyle, you almost always see them wearing something else symbolic of their formal collar. Like a lace choker, or a thick twelve-inch matinee necklace. But from time to time, Kyle will have a collar call, where he lines 'em all up and puts on their ceremonial collar and... Oh that's not bad. The gold looks great on you. Very formal. I thought it would be too much. But it's a contender too. You are so fucking cute, Ivy. Everything looks good on you."

Ivy blinked. "What does Kyle do after he puts the collars on his girl and lines them up?"

"What do you think he does?"

"Have sex with them?"

"Fucks them blind. Yeah."

"All of them? At the same time?"

"Why are you pretending this shocks you?"

"Three?"

"Four. Five. Kyle can cum five times on a good night. He hasn't came in you twice in the same tryst?"

"Uh... I haven't really had the chance to find out."

"What does that mean?" Zooey's phone chimed. "Purple. We have a winner. Purple. Hang on. Let me grab some fishnets that match and we'll finish this conversation in the car."

"But I like the black one better."

"Suck it up, Buttercup. The artistic director says purple. Purple it is."

"Oh my gawd!" Zooey slapped her forehead. "Ivy, honey, I am SO sorry! I had no idea! I assumed you had fucked Kyle a bunch of times. I can't believe that I bumped you last night. Oh darlin!"

"It's okay," Ivy adjusted her seatbelt. It kept rubbing against the side of her neck.

"Oh, I feel like shit," Zooey said. "All those cockblocks! And fucking Sadie! And I turned around and did it too! Oh darlin'!"

"Really, it's okay," Ivy said. "I had my chance but I was a basket case. I completely understood where you were coming from last night. And like you said, it would have definitely involved Sadie."

Zooey's mouth went thin. "Yep. It definitely involved Sadie. I can still smell her perfume on me. I'll talk to Kyle. We've got to get you some one-on-one time with him. I can't believe you've only fucked him once."

"It was a good fucking," Ivy said. "So was Pietr after I adjusted to that massive club of his. I swear my contact lenses popped out on my cheeks."

"Of course it was good," smiled Zooey. "The Kisselhoff brothers are legends for a reason. Girls around here who haven't tumbled with the brothers have certainly tried. Even the girls who don't like the brothers -- and there are precious few of those -- have made a play for them."

"Molly Aardman."

Zooey turned and squinted at Ivy while driving. "I hate that bitch."

"Yeah, I know," said Ivy. "Me too."

"Yeah? Why do you hate the Aardvark?"

"She's just so..." Ivy made a pinched face.

Zooey nodded. "Exactly."

"Bitch," Ivy grumbled.

"Bitch," Zooey parroted.

Ivy and Zooey looked at each other and then burst out laughing at themselves.

Kyle and Pietr both wanted to see Ivy in her photoshoot outfit before she left for the museum. Ivy would have been thrilled to play dress-up for them, but Zooey put the kibosh on the idea. Zooey said it was "antithetical" to the whole reason for Operation Ivy. Zooey said the brothers could look at the bait pictures before they loaded their secret weapon virus onto them.

Ivy did not know what "antithetical" meant, but she made a note to herself to start looking up words the boys and Zooey used.

Before Kyle and Pietr surrendered to Zooey, Ivy saw them shoot a look back and forth at each other. It was that hivemind thing again. Ivy had a feeling that Kyle and Pietr were going to crash the photoshoot.

The parking lot of the historic home-slash-museum was almost empty when Zooey and Ivy pulled in. Ivy gasped. The house was huge. Prehistoric willows darkened the long front lawn. The house was beautiful, but when the sun set, it would look like something in a Blumhouse horror film.

"Yune and Raquel are already here," said Zooey nodding at a Camry and Prius parked next to each other. She sounded relieved. "That means my guy is holding up his end."

"Her guy" turned out to be a chubby nerd named "Robbie" who looked to be about 27. He was wearing period attire for 1850 and looked a little nervous and sweaty.

"You go on upstairs," Zooey said to Ivy. "I'll be up in a minute."

"Kay," Ivy said. She started up a curving grand staircase. As Ivy looked down over the marble railing, she saw Zooey leading the nervous boy to a chair and setting him down. Zooey pulled her top off over her head and reached back to undo her bra. It was the first time Ivy had seen Zooey's bare breasts not on a TV screen. Zooey was absolutely spectacular, prettier than any movie star Ivy could think of. Zooey knelt in front of the chubby boy who looked like he was going to pass out from nerves. Zooey and said something breathy, smiled at him and her fingers went for the button fly of the man's costume pants. Ivy didn't want to see any more. She knew what was going to happen next and she knew Zooey was doing it for her.

Raquel was a much prettier redhead than Molly Aardvark Aardman. Auburn, actually. She was small and compact and even though she was not dressed sexy, Ivy could tell she had a knockout body to go with her beautiful cheekbones and upturned nose. Raquel spoke quietly but warmly, introducing herself. Her camera had a lens on it that looked like Raquel meant business. It was big and wide.

Yuni was also very sweet, and directed Ivy where to put her bag, to take her shirt off, but not her bra, and to sit in a fold-up makeup chair, just like the starlets do in movies. Yuni was Asian, and not as busty as Raquel, but gorgeous and compact, nonetheless. Ivy didn't have to squint too hard to imagine Raquel and Yuni fucking Kyle. They were both very short, 5'3" and 5'4", and very meek and submissive. Ivy realized that Kyle's "archetype" must involve short girls. Ivy was 5' 1" and Sadie was also somewhere around the 5'4" range. (It was hard to tell with that big hair of hers.) Zooey was the outlier at around 5'6" or 5'7". And she wasn't collared to Kyle, which gave that much more credence to Ivy's short-girl archetype theory. Zooey was obedient to the whims of the brothers, but no shrinking violet. Not exactly submissive.

The part that Zooey had said about Kyle looking for a blonde girl to collar made more sense. Zooey was a caramel brunette on the darker side. Yuni was an unmistakable espresso black brunette. Raquel was a dark auburn Celt. Sadie's hair was... whatever that melange was called on the planet she hailed from.

Ivy wanted to see a photo of Victoria.

This was no amateur setup. There were lights on stands with diffusion hoods over them. The bedroom they were shooting in had gold leaf accents all over the crown molding and matching gold leaf patterns on the wheat posts of the bed frame. The wallpaper had a velvet sheen that was romantic as hell. And the bed looked like something on which a medieval queen would birth a prince. Pietr was right. It was an amazing set piece that was way cooler than taking pictures in a regular house. Her purple outfit would pop like a bottle rocket against the mustard and silver pattern in the bed clothes.

Yuni made small talk with Ivy while she drew eyeliner under Ivy's eyes. She was very sweet and didn't ask a lot of personal questions, but still made good conversation while she directed Ivy to look up or down.

Raquel kept assembling lights and stands out of a big black anchor chest, then moving the lights around as she checked the bed with her camera and a lighting meter. Every few minutes she'd ask Ivy to kneel in the middle of the bed so she could adjust lights to catch Ivy's hair in just the right way. Yuni would wait patiently and then go back to applying Ivy's makeup, blending it away as it reached her breasts.

"You have any tally lights?" Yuni asked. She handed Ivy a hand mirror and Ivy gasped her reflection.

"Oh my God. Can I borrow you, like, forever?" Ivy asked. "This is the best I've ever looked. Oh my GOD!"

Yuni smiled and nodded. "Thanks. Tally lights?"

"Pardon?" Ivy squinted.

"Pimples?" Yuni smiled. "On your butt? Or razor rash on your pussy? Any blemishes on your body we need to touch up?"

"I don't shave my pussy," Ivy said.

Yuni and Raquel both froze and turned to Ivy with huge eyeballs.

"What?" Ivy cringed. "Should I have? Shaved? Nobody told me."

Raquel looked at Yuni. "Please tell me you have some shears or a trimmer."

"I have scissors," Yuni said.

"Okay Ivy," Raquel said. "That's on me. I should have checked the goods before we started. I'm going to need you in your birthday suit." She mumbled to Yuni, "Do they not have razors in Georgia?"

Ivy nervously stripped down to her socks. Raquel snapped her fingers and pointed at Ivy's feet and Ivy rolled the socks off.

"Wow," Yuni said. "She has great feet. You could skip the shoes if you want."

"She does have good wheels," nodded Raquel. "And man, she's got some pink. I can see it already and her legs are together."

"You can turn that into something good," Yuni said.

Raquel nodded. "I sure can."

Ivy squirmed. "Am I some kind of freak? My pussy lips are way too big, aren't they?"

Raquel and Yuni both laughed at the same time. "No," Raquel said. "You are stunning. Your face is gorgeous. Your hair is unworldly, it's so curly and amazing. And your pussy has a personality. I'm jealous."

"What's the holdup?" It was Zooey walking through the door. She was self-consciously wiping at the corners of her mouth.

"We're debating Ivy's muff," Yuni said.

"What's with the--- Oh shit you're not shaved," Zooey slapped her forehead.

"Nobody told me!" Ivy felt terrible being judged for something she still didn't understand.

"Sit on the bed and open your legs," Zooey said in a bossy way.

Ivy nervously complied. The three girls stared at her crotch like art students contemplating a Dali painting.

"Landing strip," Raquel said.

"Mostly," Yuni said.

"Anybody bring a razor?" Raquel said. "Do we need the brothers to bring one?"

"It's not that bad!" said Zooey defensively. "You're not shooting her pink anyway. Can't you work around her pubes? Look at her. She's got great color. When was the last time you saw a blonde with natural blonde pubes that golden honey color."

"It's got some red highlights like her hair," Yuni said.

"It's fine!" Zooey shouted.

Everyone flinched. "She's right," Raquel said. "We can work with this. It's just cheesecake, like Zee said."

"Sorry," Ivy whimpered.

"Well at least we know you're not collared," Raquel mumbled.

This was not lost on Ivy. She was going to shower and shave her bush off the minute she got back to the Brothers' house.

"Not yet, anyway," Ivy mumbled back.

"As collar sisters go, we could do a lot worse," Yuni whispered.

"Why are we whispering?" whispered Ivy. "We all know you're collared to Kyle. And I'm not deaf, I can hear you."

Raquel smiled. "Get your slut gear on, sweetheart. Let's see what the camera thinks of you."

Raquel was perfectly patient and communicative, moving Ivy through a series of sexy poses on the bed. Some with shoes and some without. Raquel made Ivy take off her top, but had a blanket and a stuffed bear with a purple bow tie to cover her breasts with in a teasing fashion. All the photos were simultaneously downloading to Raquel's iPad via bluetooth and she occasionally stopped to swipe-check her shots. Raquel turned the iPad to Ivy and showed her the teddy bear tease shots.

"Wow!" shouted Ivy. "I look like a real Playboy model! Those look great!"

"You look great," Zooey nodded. "Can we try some handbras? And maybe a little peakaboo finger action over the hoochie?"

Raquel nodded. She had Ivy strip down to only her garters and stockings, posing with her hands strategically covering her nipples and gash. Rachel turned Ivy around for similar backside shots of Ivy covering her nipples and butthole.

Zooey stared at the iPad as the pictures appeared three seconds after the lights flashed and the camera snapped. "These are first rate," Zooey nodded. "You're an artist, Raquel."

"Wowsers!" It was Kyle, followed by Pietr. All four girls were caught off-guard and jumped. Ivy's heart leapt into her throat, thinking she'd been busted in the act once more.

"She looks amazing!" Kyle's jaw dropped.

"She always looks amazing," Pietr shrugged. "What else is new?"

Kyle snapped his fingers twice and pointed at a spot on the floor. Raquel and Yuni both dove to their knees where Kyle was pointing and dropped their eyelines to the floor. Raquel pulled her camera strap over her head and set it in the floor. Both girls latched their hands behind their back in an identical pose.

Ivy blinked in disbelief at what she was seeing.

"How goes the shoot?" Kyle asked.

Zooey swiped through the photos on the iPad while Kyle looked over her shoulder. Kyle was impressed. "Yuni. Rocky. You did excellent work. I am very pleased."

"Yes, Master," they said in unison like robots, without looking up. "Thank you, Master."

It was Ivy's turn to be impressed. The collared girls were amazingly submissive and obviously practiced at doing whatever it was that they were doing.

"And you, Sweetness," Kyle said. "You look amazing. Great job!" Kyle walked to the bed and kissed Ivy. Ivy expect an incoming peck, but Kyle locked his hand behind her neck and kissed her hard, pushing his tongue against hers and wrestling it about. When he finally broke the kiss, he moved on to a similar lip lock with Zooey. Ivy locked eyes with Pietr, wondering what he was thinking behind his stoic mask. Then Pietr leaned in and gave Ivy a much less frenetic, much more tender, lippy kiss. "You look like heaven," he whispered in Ivy's ear. Then he turned and kissed Zooey.

Zooey and Kyle broke their kiss. Kyle turned and looked Ivy up and down with a crooked grin.

"Oh my," Zooey sighed. "I know that look. Baby, my guy is still downstairs and I absolutely promised him that we wouldn't mess up the room or, you know, get any bodily fluids on the antique quilts and stuff."

"I'll be careful," Kyle smiled. "I'm sure I can find a willing girl to make sure my bodily fluids don't spill anywhere. With all these sexy little mouths in this room."

"Kyle," Zooey's voice was terse, trying to snap him out of his lecherous windup. "As you well know my bodily fluids are a little harder to aim. C'mon, baby. Don't burn my contact here. He trusted me."

Kyle did not look happy. "Okay," he grumbled. "But Sadie's back at the house if we go there. Less cock for you."

"Less cock for all of us," Zooey frowned. "By half, if that whore's involved."

"But then again," mused Kyle, "With Sadie in town, I should get Vicky here. I can't remember the last time I had every girl lined up in a collar call."

Zooey deflated. She looked at Ivy. She seemed to be weighing something.

Ivy's nipples were rock hard and her vagina was wet almost to the point of dripping. All the attention she was getting, first from the girls — then from Kyle — was wearing away at her submissive nature. There was something about the sight of Raquel and Yuni kneeling next to each other in perfect form that excited her (slightly) more than it made her insanely jealous. And that was saying something. Ivy looked at the kneeling pair of submissives and imagined all the practice and training that must have went into building them into Kyle's collared girls. Ivy imagined Yuni over Kyle's knee, her perfect little bare Asian butt wiggling, waiting, anticipating. Kyle's hand rubbing, patting, waiting for the right moment to lift and connect hard with Yuni's bottom.

Ivy shuddered.

Zooey wrapped her fingers into the open V of Kyle's golf shirt. "I'll tell you what," she said. "I'm going to go back down and keep Timmy occupied for a few more minutes while you run your girls. But Timmy doesn't last very long, so I don't know how much time I can buy you. You can't take forever, okay? No endurance records. And no wet spots on the bed. You'll need to fuck the ladies bitch, okay?"

"That was the plan," Kyle smiled.

Zooey swooshed out of the room. Kyle snapped his fingers three times and Raquel and Yuni ripped off their clothes. Every suspicion Ivy had about their bare bodies proved true. The girls were sexpots. Shaved sexpots. Big firm tits with upturned nipples. Wasp waisted.

Big hips.

Kyle pointed to the bed and Raquel and Yuni lept up on it and pointed their butts at Kyle, Yuni's little right foot hooked over the back of Raquel's ankle and gently, lovingly rubbed against it.

Kyle pulled his shirt over his head. "Bro?" he said to Pietr. "You want some alone time with Ivy?"

Pietr looked at Ivy with soulful, longing eyes. "No," he said. His words belied his expression. "Zee was right. We shouldn't make too much out of this."

"Okey-dokey," Kyle shrugged. "Ivy!"

Ivy jumped.

"What are you waiting for?" Kyle pointed at the open spot on the bed next to Yuni. "All fours. Let's go."

Ivy spun around on the bed and slid backward until she was shoulder-to-shoulder, arm-to-arm with Yuni. Kyle grabbed Ivy's butt and pushed it against Yuni's hip. Yuni's free foot came over the back of Ivy's ankle, locking her into the oneness of Kyle's three-pussy plaything. Ivy connected to the warmth of the girl's skin where it matched her arms, hips, butt and thighs. Yuni quickly turned her face toward Ivy and winked. Then she looked back at the bed in front of her. Raquel made a mewling noise and then Ivy heard Kyle's stomach clapping against her butt rapidly followed by the backbeat of his balls smacking the top of her shaved pussy.

After Pietr shed his clothes he climbed the bed from the other direction and stuffed his hard, twitching cock between the mouths of Yuni and Ivy. Ivy had seen Pietr's cock before, of course. But in the light, Ivy could make out the bulging vein roadmaps along the length and every tiny bumpy cell on his wide cock head. Ivy's mouth watered at the cock moving toward it. But submissive Yuni latched her tiny cocksucker onto Pietr's dick and more than half of disappeared somewhere in her face of tiny features. Being so close, Ivy could see the spot in her neck bulging where Pietr's cockhead was pressing. Yuni made crazy sexy grunts as her mouth bobbed and twisted over the tree root jutting below Pietr's segmented stomach. His pectorals bounced with ripple tension of the pleasure flowing through him.

Yuni somehow managed to keep her huge eyes pointed upwards at Pietr, watching his every expression. Ivy knew how hard it was to keep that kind of eyelock going for a long time. Yuni made it look easy. Like Pietr said, sex was communication. Yuni was communicating a lot.

Pietr was communicating right back in a dozen nonverbal ways. His shoulders kept rolling backwards slowly. His big, plumb balls began to slowly lift into him. His anvil chin kept lifting involuntarily. His wide glute ass swayed in a figure-8. The tension in his stance revealed itself in the popping corners of his thigh quad muscles. The big boy gently dominating the tiny Asian girl was one of the sexiest, most amazing things Ivy had ever seen.

Pietr locked eyes with Ivy. His huge hand brushed down her face and took control of Ivy's head, slowly pushing her mouth toward the base of his cock. "Plenty left for you, Darlin'."

Ivy's lips parted and closed on a warm brick of cock shaft. Her tongue felt traces of shaved stubble on the cock closest to Pietr's testicles. Her nose pressed into the neatly trimmed dark blonde pubic patch. Ivy breathed his essence through her nose and tasted his manness. Yuni's slurpy suck dribbled spit downhill toward Ivy's lapping mouth, but it didn't bother Ivy or slow her hungry need to pleasure as much of Pietr as she could. The warmth flowing from Yuni's mouth into hers felt right. Not weird at all. Pietr's big hand put gentle pressure on Ivy's hairline, encouraging her mouth closer to his balls. Ivy took the hint and lowered down to gently suck one of Pietr's nuts into her tiny mouth.

Pietr hissed. "Oh that's perfect, Babydoll," he muttered.

Yuni's mouth slid down Pietr's shaft, bumping Ivy's top lip as she raised up to take a turn at sucking Pietr's plum. Pietr gasped at the sensation of Ivy making suction with her stretched babydoll mouth. Ivy's eyes fluttered open, looking up at Pietr's face, so far away. He locked eyes and smiled.

Sex was communication.

Raquel squeaked and groaned as Kyle pounded the living hell out of her pussy. Ivy looked across Yuni to see Raquel's eyes roll back in her head and her jaw come unhinged. This was followed by the animal exhale of the female orgasm. A moment later Kyle stepped back and Raquel fell face-first into the mattress, as if she no longer had a skeleton. Kyle side stepped behind Yuni and her eyes bulged as he mounted her deftly. Ivy heard the squishy anticipation of Yuni's horny puss being taken. She grunted. Kyle took her hard. Ivy was trying to concentrate on Pietr's cock in her mouth. Pietr gently pushed Ivy's face away and skewered Yuni's mouth. Ivy watched Kyle fuck Yuni hard into a deep-throated suck of Pietr. Her eyes went thin. She struggled to get air in and out of her nose.

Kyle smacked Yuni's butt and she groaned wantonly.

Ivy leaned over and tried to get one of Pietr's balls in her mouth. With all the kinetic energy bouncing the bed, the best she could safely do was lick the side of Pietr's sack. His hand wrapped gently around the side of Ivy's head, pulling her in. Slightly more difficult that Pietr's balls were disappearing, lifting into the sides of his shaft as he came closer to sperming.

Yuni's foot, still hooked over the back of Ivy's ankle, began to tremble involuntarily.

Ivy couldn't help but notice that Kyle's collared girls sure came quickly.

And then Yuni exploded on the boys.Her orgasm cry was unworldly. It was muted by Pietr's giant dong, but also somehow amplified by the hot sex in her mouth.

Kyle wasted no time. His dick sliced through Ivy's tight fuckhole and banged against her cervix. Ivy couldn't get her breath. Then Kyle's hands clamped on her hips and he took her like she'd never been taken. He fucked her like she'd never been fucked before. Her teeth rattled at the impact. His beautiful cockhead became a battering ram somewhere in her lower stomach. It occurred to her that she was going to break. She tried to crawl forward, away from the pounding on her pussy, but Kyle's fingers tightened around the break in her hips and she went nowhere but where Kyle wanted her to be.

Somehow the uncomfortableness and the low-grade pain gave way to the bigger realization that the guy she was crazy about was taking her to town. Some of her vision returned. Pietr was sliding off the bed and walking behind Raquel, pulling her from her collapse back up on all-fours; mounting up on her. She could barely see Pietr, but she clearly saw Raquel's eyes bug when Pietr inserted his telephone pole in Raquel's miniature pussy.

From the crashing of skin against skin, Ivy could tell that Pietr was fucking Raquel a lot slower than the rapidfire BANG BANG BANG! that Kyle was perpetrating upon her fuck canal.

Had she been back in the Kisselhoff house, on Kyle's bed, it would have been enough. That slick cockhead of his, zig-zagging across her wet fuckspot... The feel of his command over her... Looking over her shoulder at his set jaw and soulful eyes... His wide chest rippling with effort... She'd have already melted into a fountain of pussy fondue.

But being part of a public orgy in a strange place was JUST SO FUCKING WEIRD! The smell of Raquel and Yuni mixed with the brother's cologne was JUST SO FUCKING WEIRD! Looking at spent Yuni watching Ivy's every expression from her side, was JUST SO FUCKING WEIRD!

Yuni seemed to pick up on this communication. She pulled herself up to her knees and kissed Kyle while he pounded Ivy's pussy. Then her fingers began down-milking Ivy's nearest nipple. Ivy found that to be as odd as anything else, but not bad. Just odd. Kind of okay. Slightly better than okay.

Yuni's hand slid down Ivy's stomach and pushed through her pubes, starting a north-south slide over Ivy's clit bump. That was much better, especially when paired with Kyle's ferocious fucking. The combo of tender girl fingertips on her outer sex and animal boy cock ravaging her inner sex was something her girlbrain could never have concocted when masturbating. But now Ivy could already tell this was going in her "spank bank." This was amazing.

Too bad that Yuni's fingertip was moving north-south. Ivy was an east-west diddler, where her clit was concerned. But then Yuni's north-south shifted into a figure-eight, picking up the sensitive under-ramp of her dripping clitoris. Ivy's butthole sizzled and she knew the waves were starting, the trembling rushing down her thighs.

"This little bitch needs you to show her who's boss," Yuni purred to Kyle. "Grab her ankle. Pull her hair."

Ivy wanted no such thing. She didn't want either Kyle's fuckstroke or Yuni's knowledgeable finger to deviate one millimeter. This was as good as it gets.

Kyle dropped one of his hip clutching hands to clasp at Ivy's ankle, lifting it slightly, then his other hand wrapped into Ivy's thick mane, pulling on her hair and forcing Ivy's chin to lift.

Whoops. Yuni apparently did know what Ivy wanted. The forcefulness of Kyle's control expanding to new frontiers of her body snapped her sex need. Waves of pleasure came too fast and too close together to park anywhere.

Ivy came. Hard.

Kyle exhaled hard and his fuckstroke slowed, but banged even deeper. He was cumming a torrent inside her.

Yuni slapped Ivy's butt, but not hard. It was perfect. Yuni's finger knew just when to surrender Ivy's clit.

Kyle backed out of Ivy with a slurpy wet plopping sound. A moment later, his warm cum began leaking down her thighs.

Raquel was making crazy sex noises as Pietr plowed her, his shoulders back, his hands forward. Pietr looked like his eyes were having trouble focusing, but they found Ivy's eyes. His fingertips left Raquel's hips and wiggled for Ivy to come closer to him. Ivy backed off the bed, trying not to leak cum on the historic bedspread. Ivy wasn't sure if she was supposed to kiss Pietr or kneel in preparation for swallowing his load. Ivy thought that was probably what Pietr wanted. That's the way they did it in pornos; The money shot.

Ivy started to kneel, but Pietr grabbed her under her armpit to keep her from doing so. He stepped back and pulled Ivy to his chest. He dropped her down on his dick and Ivy found herself being fucked by a standing Pietr once again. With the stretch Kyle had put on her pussy, this time it was nothing but pleasant. Pietr came a second later. He hissed and kissed Ivy. Ivy was still in the process of wrapping her legs around Pietr when it was already over.

There was no time for afterglow. Raquel and Yuni scrambled back in their street clothes. Kyle and Pietr high-fived one another smugly, and then pulled on pants. Ivy found her travel bag but needed help getting un-sprung from the bustier, as per usual.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: BINDINGS & BOUNDARIES

Because Zooey had a work commitment and the brothers had to stop at some kind of business client "to pick up a check" and to "have a short business meeting," Ivy caught a ride back to home base with Raquel.

Once again, Raquel was nice without being exceptionally warm. She had an introverted streak and Ivy could accept that. Ivy couldn't keep her eyes from wandering and looking at Raquel, trying to reconcile the tiny, put-together, obviously intelligent redhead in the driver's seat against the wanton, slack-jawed, bug eyed fucktoy she'd witnessed on the museum bed.

Ivy was struggling with the duality of girls like Raquel and Yuni who could be so cool and self-possessed one minute, and then be kneeling on the floor like a submissive geisha the next. Was this as weird as it seemed? Was having group sex in a line on a bed as weird as it seemed? Or was Ivy just from a different world. Because it didn't add up.

A guilty, seedy something had latched on to the top of Ivy's stomach, trying to decide if it was going to crawl upward and give Ivy a guilty slut heartburn, or if it was going to vaporize into "just the way it is" normalcy and get belched away into nothingness. Poke's tales of having sex with her brothers' older drug friends always seemed so exotic and fascinating. Once or twice Ivy had masturbated to the strange fantasy of crashing one of Moochie's Molly-parties, thinking about hooking up with an older stranger who would screw her right and then leave her without strings or consequences.

But what had just happened... It was so out there. So foreign to who Ivy considered herself to be. She was over her head with all this collared girl business. The rational Feminist part of her girlbrain was telling her to run. Why in the world would she want to be a lowly 25% of Kyle's regular stable of girls? Not to mention all the supplemental Molly "Aardvark" Ardmans and Beck Pyrtle's mothers in Tampa.

On the other hand... Kyle. It was stupid and irrational, but he was just so frickin' beautiful and cool that Ivy kept fantasizing about buying him shirts.

Shirts.

She kept picturing anniversaries and Christmas visits where Kyle was unwrapping a boxed shirt that Ivy had picked out for him at American Eagle. Kyle would say how much he loved it, then he would stand up, pull off the shirt he was wearing, exposing his perfect wide, tanned chest, and then button up his new gift shirt, smiling and saying "This is great, Ivy! I love it!"

Raquel and Yuni showed up in the daydream, uninvited. They had been there the whole time, and their gifts were nice, but Kyle didn't make a fuss about their gifts the way he did the imaginary Oxford that Ivy brought him.

"Wow! That looks amazing!" Daydream Yuni said.

"Yeah, nice job," Daydream Raquel nodded.

"Oh who gives a shit?" Daydream Sadie sneered. "Take off that rag and open my gift."

"How did you get here?" Daydream Ivy asked.

"What?" Raquel said.

"Huhn? Oh. Sorry," Ivy offered an embarrassed monkey grin. "On another planet. Oh! Oh! I love this song! Turn it up, please!"

"You like Squirrel Burners too?" Raquel asked. "My favorite band of the moment."

"Oh totally," Ivy nodded.

Ivy had a million questions for Raquel. Questions about collars and rules, and if Raquel had other boyfriends that Kyle approved, and how that worked. Questions about if Raquel and Yuni and Victoria ever socialized outside of their interactions with Kyle? And was that encouraged? Discouraged? Was there a lot of lesbian stuff required to be a collared girl? Did Kyle ever spank them? What exactly was the dynamic with a collared girl and Pietr? Did they have to obey him? Were there rules about special stuff they Kyle wouldn't let them do with Pietr? How did they learn to do all their submissive poses and stuff? Were there punishments if they broke Kyle's rules? Did the punishments involve a leather paddle and maybe some sexy leather wrist cuffs that matched their collars?

But Ivy and Raquel talked about Squirrel Burners and complained to each other about the price hikes of Opa nail polish at Sally Beauty Supply.

Compartmentalized. That's the best word for it. Raquel's sexy life was compartmentalized, and even though there was no secret between the two girls about the experience they shared back at the museum, they didn't have to fixate on it.

Fair enough. All Ivy wanted to do was unpack what had just happened, make sense of it all. Talk it out. Figure out where to file what just happened in her head: Fun? Not fun? Incredible? Sordid? Life-altering? Gross?

But that wasn't Raquel. And that was fine.

Both boys were in their respective rooms, apparently doing something on their computers that had nothing to do with Operation Ivy, when her phone chirped a text from Kyle.

"Come see me. Now."

Ivy opened Kyle's door cautiously. Kyle looked up from his computer. "Hey Sweetness," he smiled.

Ivy looked Kyle over. He didn't have that animal sex smirk. He looked harmless and friendly.

"Hey."

"What are you doing?" Kyle asked. "Get over here. I'm not going to bite you. Not too hard."

"Whatcha doing?" Ivy asked, sidling up to him.

Kyle pointed at his mouth. "Kiss."

Ivy leaned in and gave Kyle one firm kiss.

"Oh come on," Kyle grimaced. "What got into you?"

"Nothing."

"You can do better than that!" Kyle pointed at his mouth again.

Ivy kissed him several times, each kiss a little lippier and stickier than the one before it. Against her instincts, a tiny fire of longing ignited in Ivy's chest again.

"That's much better." Kyle patted Ivy on the butt. Ivy's inner fire sparked a bit more. No one was more surprised than her to learn that she kind of liked the idea of being spanked. The idea. Not the actual spanking. Symbolic butt patting was great.

Ivy looked at Kyle's monitor. There was a grid layout like the boys used for their computer code stuff. But in a big quadrant was a brightly lit photo of a middle age woman standing at a pharmacy counter. "What is that?"

"Uh, metatagging," Kyle said.

"What's that?"

"Er..." Kyle was clearly deciding how much he wanted to explain to Ivy. "A couple years back, Pee was hac-- Uh, Pietr was exploring weaknesses in network security for a couple advertising houses around town. Actually he was looking for some stock photography to use for a school project. You know, without necessarily cutting into our college fund. Stock photography can be expensive."

"Uh huh," Ivy said with suspicious disapproval at Kyle's line of bullshit.

"Anyway," Kyle continued, "Pee noticed that the photo servers at these Ad houses were a total mess. They sell these photos, but the metatags... Er... like the words that help somebody search and find a picture of a 'happy girl at a beach' or 'sad clown at a birthday party,' these advertising agencies had tens of thousands of pictures on-file that they'd never sell because their metatags were either nonexistent or they were absolutely worthless. So Pietr put together a proposal for us to metatag their photo databases."

"Oh, cool!" Ivy nodded. "Does it pay well?"

"Only a dime per metatag," Kyle said.

"Oh," Ivy frowned. "That's not good."

"Pietr and I, when we are in a groove and using Pietr's software that anticipates the metatag based on the first couple of letters and batch metatags similar photos in a set, together we can metatag about two and a half to three thousand tags per hour. We're machines."

Ivy tried to do the math in her head.

"That's a lot more than minimum wage," Kyle answered the unasked question.

"You two are something else," Ivy said, embarrassed at how impressed she found herself yet again.

"Yeah and there's a bonus structure every time somebody licenses a photo using one of our tags."

"Neat."

"And we've even brokered quite a few of Raquel's photos to the ad agencies."

"You're kidding! That's great. She's super talented."

Kyle smirked. "She sure is!" He waggled his eyebrows.

Ivy swatted Kyle's shoulder. "Perv!"

"Speaking of which," Kyle smiled, "did you have any thoughts about what you saw this afternoon?"

"What do you mean?" Ivy asked.

"You know exactly what I mean," Kyle said.

"About your girls? About Yuni and Raquel?"

"Exactly," Kyle said.

"And Victoria?" Ivy continued, tersely, "and collars?"

Kyle smirked. His trademark eyebrow raised into a question mark.

"I dunno," Ivy said. "I'm not sure I bargained for that kind of group thing."

"Kay," Kyle nodded. "Just asking."

"Why?" Ivy asked. "Did you want me to take your collar?" Ivy's pulse began to speed up, fearful of how Kyle would answer the question.

"You don't 'take my collar'," Kyle said. "You offer me your collar."

"You know what I mean," Ivy said.

"Words are important" Kyle said. "Say it right."

Suddenly Ivy was nervous. She wasn't ready for this conversation. "Should I offer you my collar?"

"Do you want to offer me your collar?"

"Would you take it if I did?"

"Are you offering it or not?"

"Answer my question first," Ivy said.

Kyle shook his head and smiled. "Games," he sighed. "Exhausting."

"Yeah," Ivy said defensively, "they sure are, Kyle. Is that what you wanted to talk about? Offering my collar?"

"No," Kyle said. "I was talking to Zoe. She mentioned that you and I hadn't really had any quality one-on-one time."

"I'm still sore from being the caboose on your bang train this afternoon," Ivy said. "I can barely walk."

"I was planning some cuddle time for us tomorrow? Is tomorrow okay? Can we please have some quiet together time tomorrow night, Ivy? After you get back from helping Zooey with her guy? Just me and you?"

Ivy looked Kyle over. He blinked. She sighed. God, if he weren't so fricking beautiful, she'd write him off. But he was. "I would like that very much," she said.

"Awesome," Kyle said. "Zooey said you're staying in the car while she goes in with the guy and does her thing. As far as you know that's true, right? You're not involved with this older guy of hers, right?"

Ivy hated to lie. "That's what I was told."

"And to make sure that you and I don't have any more interruptions, Pee and I are going to gang up on Sadie tonight and try and wear her out."

"Good luck with that," Ivy rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, well. We can try. Pee's agreed to run interference with Sadie tomorrow night. I promise, it'll just be you and me."

"Cool." Ivy nodded. "Uh, can I borrow your beard trimmer? From your bathroom?"

"Snoop," Kyle said.

"It's on the counter out in the open. It's not exactly a state secret."

"Why?" Kyle asked.

"You know. I figured you like your girls with a little less hair down-there."

Kyle nodded. "I do. You ready to shave it off?"

Ivy nodded nervously. She hadn't even had pubic hair for that long and now she was planning to shave it away.

"I'll do it," Kyle said. "I'll shave you. Take a long hot shower before we hit the sack tomorrow. Come to bed. I'll bring a razor and some towels."

"You're going to shave me?" Ivy asked.

"Why not me?" Kyle asked. "I can definitely see better and do a better job than you can."

"Okay." Ivy nodded. "Do you have a picture of Victoria?"

Kyle looked confused. "Why?"

"I just want to see if she looks like what I imagine she looks like."

"Uh, sure. Hang on." Kyle opened a folder on his computer and his fingers typed a search string of words faster than Ivy could read.

"Oh jeez," Ivy huffed, looking at the photo of the girl that appeared onscreen.

"What?"

Ivy struggled for words. "If there was ever a girl who looked like her name should be Victoria..."

Kyle laughed. "I know, right?"

Raquel was gorgeous and sexy. Yuni was gorgeous and sexy. Zooey was amazingly gorgeous and ridonkulously sexy. Ivy couldn't really measure Victoria's "sexy" because she was in a perfect royal blue school blazer adorned with crest and a pleated plaid skirt that was ironed perfectly, muting whatever curves she had. But god damn, that was one beautiful female specimen. Her hair was dark, somewhere between Zooey's carmel brunette and Yuni's black hair. It was long. Looooong. Past the boobs long and flat ironed straight. She could have just stepped out of a salon chair because the dark ends were perfectly horizontal across the white blouse. You could have put one of Gary's framing squares on those even-length ends. Her skin was flawless. She had huge, expressive eyes that seemed very far away and contemplative in the photo. You had to concentrate to even see her tiny bump of a nose. Her pouty, full lips were...

Ivy longed to kiss the girl in the photo despite hating her with the burning jealous fire of a thousand suns. Ivy wasn't sure how a girl could be cuter or more perfect than Zooey, but there she was. Victoria. She looked like an Americanized manga cartoon character of a fantasy waifu girlfriend.

"Holy crap, she's gorgeous," Ivy muttered.

"She's at a charity house rehab service mission in Hilton Head until next week or you could meet her," Kyle said. "I think you two would get along great."

Ivy considered what Kyle was really saying. "Maybe one day," she muttered. But deep in her heart something snapped. Something was telling her that she could never compete with the Victorias of the world. The Victorias always got the guy. With a little practice Ivy might be able to out-submissive, and out-suck, and out-fuck, and out-pose, and out-girlfriend Raquel and Yuni to wind up as the Last Girl Standing. But Ivy was never going to be able to out-pretty Victoria.

"Maybe one day," Kyle repeated with a smile. He pointed at his monitor. "I gotta get back at it, 'kay Sweetness?"

Ivy rolled around in Pietr's empty bed, waiting for sleep to take her. Sadie was making so much sex noise in Kyle's room that Ivy didn't really have a fighting chance to drift off. But Ivy wasn't sleepy yet anyway. She had a lot on her mind.

Ivy wasn't sure if Pietr was returning to his bed after he finished with Sadie. That seemed like it was the usual modus operandi. Ivy was on "her side" of Pietr's queen mattress. She moved to the middle so she could smell Pietr's scent a little better and to ensure that if she did drift off, Pietr would have to wake her when he crawled back in bed.

Sadie's cat-in-heat vocalizations were nothing short of annoying. Not sexy at all. Ivy thought about having Kyle to herself tomorrow night. Her heart tingled a bit thinking about it. She could offer Kyle her collar after an intimate romp. Is that what she wanted? Yes. No. Yes. He was hinting that he was interested. He wouldn't really refuse the offer if she put her heart on the line, would he?

Ivy wondered if sex would feel any different after she was shaved. Probably not. Her fingers dropped into the sheets and pulled at her soft groin hairs, feeling their silkiness and their spring.

Tomorrow was also Tuesday, where Ivy was going to have sex with Zooey's stranger guy. And Zooey. Ivy remembered watching Zooey's sex scene on the downstairs television on her second night. Ivy remembered how amazing Zooey's big breasts were. Remembered how they bounced up to her chin when Pietr fucked her like they juuuust might bounce high enough to bonk her in the face.

Pretty much a one hundred percent chance that twenty four hours from now, Ivy would know what Zooey's nipples tasted like. What were the chances that Ivy would know the taste of Zooey's pussy? High, Ivy admitted. Very high. There was no backing out at this point. Zooey had done too much for Ivy. Whatever this mystery guy expected her to do, Ivy would do. And like Zooey said, when you have a guy and two girls, the guy is naturally going to expect to see some girl-girl stuff.

It wouldn't kill her. It didn't make Ivy gay to put on a show for a boy. Not that there was anything wrong with that. It was just something that hadn't ever crossed her mind before. Poke was really cute and had a cute body, but it had never-for-an-instant crossed Ivy's mind when they were both bare in a Ross changing room that maybe it would be fun to lick Poke's pussy or wear flannel shirts and go steady with her.

Ivy fingers gently combed through her pussy fuzz as her mental movie switched back to Zooey's boobs bouncing. Ivy remembered the way Pietr stood when Zooey went to her knees on the floor to swallow his cum. Pietr had wide, flat feet, like boards attached to the bottom of his ankles. Pietr's wide stance on those gorilla feet pinged a sexy shiver through Ivy. Those big, sack-of-rocks thighs of his. His too-muscular chest. The big balls of muscles that defined the tops of his arms and the shelf of his shoulders wrapped around that thick neck of his. The intense way he looked at Zooey while she pleasured him with her eager mouth.

Ivy's fingers were on her slut button now, dipping a little to find the wetness that was leaking out near her pee hole.

Her finger dipped a little lower into her fuck tunnel, but that part of her pussy was still sore from the pounding Kyle and Pietr gave it. Fingers felt better on her grateful clit.

Ivy thought about the time Pietr spanked her. The way he picked her up and tossed her over his lap like a rag doll. The way his hand rubbed her butt before he lifted it to start the spanking. She fast forwarded to the after-spanking part. She remembered how calm and in-control Pietr was when Ivy was hysterical and crying and mad. How his mildness brought her through the bad part of the spanking to someplace new; The crazy trust of sexually giving your best to a boy who just set your ass on fire. Ivy remembered his growly, silky voice while she sucked his thick dick. She remembered his "Oh that's nice," and his "Now you're getting it." Her mouth wetted with drool while thinking about the warm feel of Pietr's twitching cock stretching her jaw and the smooth penis skin skating back and forth across the back of her tongue.

Ivy remembered the way Pietr called her a bitch, like it was their "thing," not like he was being an asshole.

Her pussy gushed loud through the pattern her fingertips were drawing around her button. She transitioned from bored, playful touching to a really needy burning feeling deep in her box and thighs.

For some crazy reason, Ivy's brain locked onto the memory of being over Gary's lap. She remembered struggling and clawing and swimming to get away, and her first real lesson in how strong men really are; how a strong man can pretty much do whatever he wants to a girl like Ivy. This time Ivy let herself remember the feeling of Gary's hand lighting up her buns. Or at least as much as she could remember of that. It's hard to remember pain as something other than an abstract. Mostly Ivy remembered the struggling and how Gary kept her right on his lap. That vague feeling of his cock harding under her bare lower stomach as the swats added up.

She mind-jumped to the way Gary looked at her afterward when she was unable to cover up. That "whater ya gonna do about it?" cocky, self-satisfied smirk of his as he eye-raped the parts of her she couldn't cover up with a sheet. Ivy's face flashed hot again with humiliation, just thinking about it. But her treacherous pussy tingled even more for some reason. Then Ivy rewound back to the spanking part again.

And then a crazy, non-sexual memory intruded. A happy memory: Gary chasing Beth O'Brien around the condo. Beth had stolen Gary's MAGA hat off his head and threatened to stick it down the garbage disposal. Gary started chasing her, first to get his hat back. And then for the sport of chasing Beth O'Brien around as she jumped and ran across the couch, up the stairs, over her bed, and back down through the kitchen. Gary probably could have caught Beth O'Brien in seconds, but it became a game to chase her and lunge and just miss enough to make Beth O'Brien squeal. Beth O'Brien's eyes were huge and she was laughing uproariously every time Gary slid around a doorway to block her and send her squealing with fake terror, running in the other direction. Ivy was writing a history paper on the living room floor, watching the spectacle and laughing pretty hard herself at grown ups acting like kids.

Gary had put his back against the basement door and waited for Beth O'Brien to patter out of the blind corner of the laundry room, where he grabbed her waist and lifted her in the air. Beth O'Brien's legs kicked like a puppy into nothingness. She squeal-laughed as Gary dropped to the couch and play-spanked Beth over the back of her jeans. Not hard at all, but it made Beth O'Brien blush and squeal-laugh like a toddler.

It was a really good memory. But also strangely sexual now, remembering Gary essentially employing his man strength on Beth O"Brien. For the first time Ivy put two and two together and wondered if maybe spanking was an intimate "thing" between Gary and her mom, the way it was with Pietr and Ivy.

Ivy thought about how confident and steely Gary could be when he was focused. Or perturbed. And how sweet he was when Ivy brought him beers or made him a sandwich while he was watching basketball. And how strong he was when she tried to extract herself from his lap. And his hardon. And how strong he was when she struggled. And his hardon. And the way Pietr rubbed her but before his hand started-in spanking. And Gary's hardon. Poking her.

Ivy's lower body turned to cold fusion and her brain short circuited. She arched her back and begged herself not to cum because Pietr would probably be back in the bed soon and she could look down and see the top of his bucket head lapping away at her sore----

"Ohah fuckmehagh fakfakfakfakffffpppphhhh...!" Ivy arched her back and creamed her fingers. She wasn't prepared to cum that hard. Her ears rang. The hairs on her head and arms flexed up.

She didn't realize that she'd been holding her breath and she heaved to replenish her lungs with oxygen, melting into the topsheet that was now soaked with her perspiration.

Ivy realized she'd just rubbed one out to a memory of Pervy Gary and her head spun with the wrongness of that. What the fuck was happening to her?

Ivy was still panting when Pietr entered the dark room. He slid in the sheets.

"You still awake? Hey," he said, concerned. "What's wrong?"

"I just had a nightmare," Ivy said. Kind of true, in a way.

"No kidding," Pietr said. "You're a sweaty mess."

"Sorry," Ivy panted.

"You okay, Darlin?" Pietr asked. "You want to talk about it?"

"No," Ivy said. "Thanks for asking."

Pietr's arm came around Ivy and rolled her into a spoon cuddle. His rock front pushed against her sweaty back. His limp man bits pushed against the back of her thighs. His fingers gently traced her hairline down to her cheek.

"That feels so good," Ivy whispered. "You're awesome, Pietr."

"I appreciate your appreciation," he whispered.

Remembering Pietr's rules for being in bed with a naked man, Ivy's hand reached under her legs to cockcheck him. She could tell from his press against her that he wasn't hard, but if that was the rule, that was the rule.

"No. Thanks," Pietr said quietly. "We're good. You're awesome."

"Youknow," Ivy said softly, "you get me. Like nobody else, you seem to understand what I want before I know what I want."

"Funny how that works," Pietr whispered.

Ivy began to let go of the day. Her body became lighter than air with every sweeping touch of Pietr's breezy fingers. "How is it that you know me so well, Pietr."

Pietr lightly kissed Ivy's ear and fell back on his own pillow. "All questions are valid," he said. "But not all answers enlighten."

"You're an asshole, Pietr," Ivy mumbled from her one foot stride between the dock of day and the rowboat to dreamscape.

"Indeed I am," whispered Pietr. "And you are the very song of my upright heart."

Ivy awoke to Pietr tapping her shoulder, standing beside the bed.

"Whanhg?" she croaked.

"C'mon," Pietr said patiently.

"What?" Ivy mumbled.

"You know what," Pietr said.

Ivy forced her eyes open. Pietr was showered and standing naked, half hard. "You're up?"

"I'm back from football practice. C'mon. I've got to get mowing. We both have a busy day ahead."

"I never heard you get up," Ivy mumbled.

"Ivy." Pietr's voice was less patient now.

"What?" Ivy asked, annoyed. Her eyes caught the upward twitch of Pietr's giant penis. "Oh," she said flatly. "Are we still doing this?" She pulled feet over the edge of the bed and managed to stand, still half asleep.

Pietr walked to his blowjob chair and sat.

Ivy rubbed her eyes and knelt in front of him. He smelled really good. Ivy struggled to remember the rules of Pietr's game. "Uhm. Master may I kiss your cock?" she yawned.

PIetr nodded. "Kiss my cock, bitch."

"Thank you, Master," Ivy said, leaning in to kiss the top of Pietr's warm wang. Within seconds, it filled with blood and pointed at the ceiling, leaving Ivy to raise up on her knees to put good kisses where a boy wants good kisses on his dick.

Pietr's cock got even harder and it curved back at his segmented stomach.

Ivy used the opportunity to kiss his balls and lick the tightening ridges on his sack.

"Master, may I please suck your cock?" Ivy asked.

"Suck cock, bitch," Pietr said.

Ivy almost had to come off her knees to latch her lips over the top of Pietr's pleasure mast. She latched her lips and his cockhead disappeared behind her teeth somewhere as she resettled into her submissive position.

Her mouth began instinctively watering as she bobbed and flattened her tongue to take Pietr deeper and deeper with every movement of her neck and chin.

"What did we say about moaning?" Pietr growled.

Ivy moaned. She was totally into sucking Pietr already. She just forgot to vocalize it.

"That's better," Pietr said.

Ivy remembered the last time, Pietr threatened to beat her ass if she forgot to moan. Apparently he forgot or that was a bluff. Ivy's pussy got very wet.

Then Ivy had a thought. A crazy thought.

She popped hard suction off the top of Pietr's cock and let it smack back hard against his stomach.

"Hey girl," he growled. "Don't drop my cock. It's disrespectful. I told you that last time."

"Whatever you say, Master," Ivy mumbled with just a touch of attitude.

She reached up and started stroking Pietr's cock, her tiny hand not able to close around it fully.

"What are you doing?" Pietr was annoyed. "I didn't say you could stroke me. You didn't ask and I didn't say you could. Back in your mouth. Suck."

"My mouth is tired," Ivy said. She waited a full beat before adding "Master."

Pietr's eyebrows pushed together. He was confused. "What? No. Back in your mouth. If I wanted a wet handjob, I could have done that myself."

"I'm tired," Ivy yawned. She was barely even stroking now.

"Ivy, knock it off," Pietr said. "That's not how this works."

"Whatever," Ivy was giving Pietr all her attitude now. "You want a handy or not?"

Pietr blinked. "Who are you, and what have you done with Ivy O'Brien?" he asked. Now it was Pietr asking in Pietr voice. Not Master Pietr in his Dom growl.

This wasn't exactly going the way of Ivy's impromptu plan. She had to think fast.

"I should probably stop." Ivy's stroking hand slowed to barely a single travel up and down Pietr's shaft every five seconds. "I probably need to save myself for Kylebear tonight. Make sure he gets my best."

Pietr's head jerked like he had been punched. "What did you just say?"

"A girl has a hard time respecting a Master who's not really a bossy master, yaknow?" Ivy sneered out of the corner of her mouth. "Maybe you should just finish up yourself. Or get Sadie in here to-- WOOOOF!"

That did it.

Pietr vaulted out of his chair and jerked Ivy back over his lap in one motion. "I'll show you Kylebear, girl!"

Ivy would have liked a little more of the "before spanking" ritual: The butt rub warmups. The anticipation. More of the rough "I'm gonna show you..." growly talk. Pietr's hand lit into her upturned ass in rapidfire smacks. Ivy kept her attitude up through four of them before her teeth clenched, her butt cheeks clenched, and her resolve shattered. Somewhere around swat number ten her legs began to kick. A few swats later, Pietr deposited her right back in the floor where she had been a minute before.

Tears were squeezing out of Ivy's eyes. Her hands instinctively rubbed away the fire on her buns.

Pietr's big finger pointed between her eyes. His jaw locked and in his most Gary-like dadvoice he growled, "Bitch, you better get that cock in your mouth this instant and suck it like your sweet little ass depends upon it!"

"Yes Master!" Ivy gulped, her eyes big. She latched a suck onto the top of Pietr's peckerhead and moaned like the internet's porny-est porn slut.

Pietr shuddered and looked down at Ivy's ministrations with big eyes.

"THhngk yewg, Mathtah," Ivy gurgled from around Pietr's cock. She stopped sucking long enough to grab the shaft and put a long, sloe-eyed lick from balls to cum-hole. "Thank you for showing me who my Master is," Ivy cooed in her sexiest drawl. "And who the little cocksucking slut bitch is." She went back to trying to force Pietr's cock past her tonsils in a hard, gurking bounce.

"Oh fuck," Pietr squinted. "Slow down. C'mon. I can't... I can't... I ccc-c-c-OH FUCK!"

Pietr's delayed cum stream finally made the trip to freedom. Ivy gulped the warmth down, moaning all the way.

"Okay, that's enough," Pietr panted.

Ivy sucked harder.

"That it," Pietr grunted. "Enough."

Ivy sucked harder. Her lips closed tight around Pietr's cum hole and sucked like she was trying to get the last drop of a Wendy's Frosty through a straw.

"Stop!" Pietr begged, leaning down to push Ivy's forehead off his dong with a loud pop. He panted and looked at Ivy incredulously.

"Thank you, Master," Ivy smiled.

"Oh Jesus," Pietr panted. "What hath I wrought?"

"That was pretty good, right?" Ivy smiled.

"I'm checking the house for body snatcher replicant pods," Pietr huffed.

Ivy grinned ear-to-ear. "Sex is communication," Ivy said. "For a minute there I wasn't sure you heard me."

"I heard you," Pietr said. "Is this a thing now? Is that how we roll?"

"Not every time," Ivy said. "But maybe sometimes?"

Pietr nodded and rubbed his balls as if it hurt him to cum so hard. "Okay," he nodded.

"I am absolutely gushing onto your carpet, Master," Ivy said. "Will you please lick me now?"

Pietr shook his head. "Nope. Save it for Kylebear."

"Oh come on! That was just a thing! Don't be like that!"

Pietr laughed. "I know. But still. Save it for Kyle."

"That's not until tonight!"

"Good," PIetr said. "That will teach you to play me so hard. And no touching yourself, either!"

"I'm rubbing one out in the shower," Ivy said defiantly.

"Oh no, you're not," Pietr shook his head.

"You can't stop me."

"I most assuredly can. What time is Zooey picking you up for her thing?"

"Six."

Pietr nodded knowingly. "Kyle and I have to mow some yards to makeup for what we missed yesterday. Then Kyle has to get to his band practice and I have to get down to Clearwater for my Veterans job. We'll be back by five."

"So?"

Pietr smiled a wicked grin.

"Oh this is bullshit!" Shouted Ivy.

Kyle and Pietr exchanged their hivemind thoughts and they both smirked.

"Jokes over," Ivy said. "Take it off!"

Kyle shook his head negative. "Nope. This is definitely one of Pietr's all-time best ideas."

Ivy had made no effort to stop Kyle from strapping a leather collar around her neck and locking it with a tiny padlock. She assumed it meant she was being promoted.

She made no effort to stop Pietr from enclosing her wrists in padded leather bondage cuffs. They were kind of sexy and she was intrigued.

But then both boys forced her wrists up to her neck and locked the wrist cuffs to fixed metal rings on each side of the neck collar. Other than that, she was nude.

"Does this mean I'm collared to you both now?" Ivy asked, her hands pulling downward below each ear, testing if she could slip out of the cuffs.

Both boys laughed loudly.

"Not hardly," Kyle said. "You are wearing a restraint to keep you from diddling yourself until we get home. That's a long way from being collared."

"You can't leave me like this all day!" Ivy whined. "Not here alone with Sadie."

"What the fuck is she doing wearing my collar, Kyle!" Sadie appeared in the doorway.

"Great," Ivy muttered. "The devil can always hear you say her name."

"Sorry babe," Pietr said. "We need--"

"Shut the fuck up, Pietr," Sadie snapped. "I'm not bound to you. Butt out."

"Watch it," Kyle's eyebrows arched up in warning.

"Kyle you cannot let her wear my collar! That's wrong on so many levels!"

"It's just for today," Kyle said.

"Well put her in Victoria's collar for today," Sadie spat.

"Yours has the three D-rings," Kyle explained. "We need to keep her hands away from our pussy until we get home from mowing. This is perfect."

"Seriously!" Sadie shouted at Ivy.

"Hey, I didn't think this up," Ivy said. "This is bullshit." Ivy turned to Kyle. "She's just going to let me out of this the moment you pull out of the driveway."

Kyle and Pietr laughed even harder. "You don't know Sadie at all, do you? And besides..."

Pietr flipped the tiny keys for the tiny locks up in the air and Kyle swatted them into his pocket.

Ivy considered what they were implying about Sadie and she didn't like the imagery that popped into her head."

"What if I have to pee?" Ivy asked.

"Oh, you'll have to pee," Pietr smiled.

"Who will pat me dry?" Ivy pleaded.

"Let your pee-pee dripping cooter air out," Kyle said. "You'll be fine."

"What if I have to poo?" Ivy asked.

Kyle shrugged. "I guess you better be reaaaaal nice to Sadie then." He smirked.

"I am not wiping her ass," Sadie growled.

"It won't be that long," Kyle smirked. "We'll be back in a couple hours."

"Like eight!" Ivy shouted. "Eight hours! I haven't even showered! I stink!"

"Smell good to me," Kyle said. "Pietr?"

Pietr sniffed Ivy's shoulder. "Mmmm. Dunno. She smells kinda ripe to me, bro. Kinda funky."

"Kyle, you can't make me sit around my bare ass on the furniture all day with ass funk," Ivy begged. "Lemme just take a quick shower and throw on some clothes and you can put me right back in this getup."

"Can't trust you in the shower," Pietr said. "That's how you ended up where you are in the first place. Remember?"

"You can watch me shower," Ivy pleaded.

Pietr rubbed his chin. He looked at his watch. "Kyle, we need to get on the road. But I'm going to take ten to clean Ivy up before we leave. Can you get the water jugs filled and the truck loaded."

"You got it, bro."

Pietr took Ivy's elbow and lead her toward the boy's bathroom. "C'mon."

"What are you doing?" Ivy asked.

Pietr leaned in the tub and started the showerhead hissing. He tested the spray with his fingers. "I'm washing a nasty bitch. What does it look like I'm doing?"

"What?"

Pietr shucked his clothes to the bathroom floor. "Step in," Pietr said. "Be careful."

Ivy stepped into the tub while Pietr cautiously monitored her waist in his grip, as if he were ready for Ivy to slip at any moment. Pietr stepped in, pulled the shower curtain closed, and adjusted the shower head until spray blasted on Ivy's tits where she stood closest to the fixtures.

"That feels good," Ivy said. She dipped her hair under the water and let the pressure clear the sweat off her face. She slowly turned in a circle while the water kissed her body. Pietr pressed a bar of antibacterial "guy soap" to Ivy's stomach and began to circle until it lathered into bubbles. Then he soaped up her tits and nipples. Ivy could swear that she felt her pussy honey flowing down her own inner thighs in thick rivulets within the thin flow of shower water, she was so horny now. Pietr pushed the bar of soap between her ass crack. A moment later his big index finger forced against the ring of Ivy's butthole and teased like it was going to push inside Ivy. Ivy tried to turn away before that happened, but Pietr kept her from twisting away.

"Ow!" Ivy protest.

"Oh hush," Pietr laughed. "I haven't even begun to test that little pink asshole of yours."

Pietr squatted and ran soapy hands up and down both of Ivy's splayed legs. Whatever resistance Ivy had left to the sex need that was percolating within her waved a white flag of surrender. Pietr's strong hands moving up and down her legs past the tickle spot on her inner-knees unglued her. She could feel the top part of her pussy throbbing.

Pietr brought his soapy hands up into Ivy's unprotectable armpits, tickling her. His hands traced back to her breasts. He looked her in the eyes. He looked serious. His penis was thickening. Ivy held out hope that she was going to get shower fucked against the wall. That would have been better than fabulous.

Pietr's hands pushed Ivy's breasts up until they slipped out, her nipples scraping down his rough palms and lighting up her Pituitary Gland like a pinball machine. His hands both continued up until they pulled in from her outer shoulders and closed outside the collar. He was firmly holding her by her neck in a grip that didn't put pressure on her esophagus or restrict her breathing, but showed Ivy his dominance and her submission.

Ivy looked at Pietr. Unable to move. Pietr lifted slightly and Ivy had to come to her toes precariously on the grip of the tub. Ivy starred nervously at Pietr, wondering where this could be going. Pietr stared back with intensity. He kissed her hard. By the time he broke the long kiss, Ivy was almost ready to beg for attention on her pussy. She was so fucking horny that her ears were buzzing.

Pietr released Ivy and squirted guy shampoo in his palm. He rubbed his palms and then worked the shampoo into Ivy's hair, rubbing all ten strong fingers into a scalp massage as he did.

Ivy moaned.

"Feel good?" Pietr asked.

"I am so fucking horny," Ivy purred.

"Apparently," Pietr said. "You're cussing now."

"If it's possible to cum without having my pussy touched, it might happen with you washing my hair. That feels absolutely incredible."

"You have great hair," Pietr said. He was now pulling the soap back into a long rope of hair behind her, hand-over-hand pulling her curly blonde mane into a soapy stalactite. "You have great everything, Ivy. You are really hot." The firm tug on her hair and the control it gave Pietr over Ivy made Ivy consider humping the soap dish on the wall for relief. Her pussy was electric for attention.

"Rinse," Pietr ordered. He pushed the soap out of Ivy's hair with his hands and then spun her around until she was rinsed from top to bottom. Pietr turned the knob and the water stopped. Moments later the shower curtain was open and he was drying her with a fluffy towel. It triggered a long forgotten memory of Ivy's father drying her off after a bath when she was a tiny girl. She felt it on her skin and in her heart. Pietr pointed the used towel to his own chest.

Ivy looked down and Pietr's cock was rock hard.

"Please Master," Ivy begged. "May I suck your cock?"

Pietr smiled. "You and Kyle will have a good time tonight," he said. "It really is overdue." He pulled a banana comb with wide tines out of the vanity. Perfect for thick, curly girl hair. He dug a hair dryer out behind it. "I'm just going to get the drips out of your hair. I'm not going to style it."

"PEE!" Kyle shouted from downstairs. "Let's GO!"

"Just a sec!" Pietr called back. He smiled and thumbed the hair dryer on.

"This is such bullshit," Ivy sighed.

Sadie turned up the volume on The Price is Right to signal how concerned she was about Ivy's opinion on her bondage plight.

Ivy looked over the back of the couch at the clock on the kitchen stove. It was only 10:45. Five minutes later than the last time she looked. She sighed. Ivy hated game shows. But even if she could have wrestled the remote away from Sadie, she wasn't sure she could point it at the television with her hands up in her ears.

Ivy sighed again. "This is such bullshit."

Sadie rolled her eyes. "For fuck's sake, girl." Sadie hit the pause button and swung her disabused expression squarely at Ivy. "You want to be a player in the brothers' game, and you're losing your shit over a fucking bondage collar? Really? They used to tie both my legs behind my ears, spread eagle on the bed, and leave me bent like a fucking pretzel until they went out to a movie and came back to fuck me hours later. You haven't seen shit. You haven't suffered shit. You haven't earned shit."

Ivy blinked.

"You are such a fucking Basic Becky," Sadie continued. "The brothers are Major League and you are Pop Warner."

"That's kind of a mixed metaphor," Ivy said. "And kind of harsh. I didn't grow up Flowers in the Attic, like you all did Sadie. This is all new to me. I'm figuring it out as fast as I can. I didn't have your mom chaperoning sex parties with the brothers since I was six."

"Ten," Sadie grumbled.

"I didn't have Gary fucking me through daddy issues of my own," Ivy continued.

None of Ivy's words made a dent in Sadie's armor.

"Well that's your fault," Sadie shrugged. "You certainly had your chance."

Ivy deflated. "Do you know if maybe there's another key in their room that you can unlock me until just before they get home?"

Sadie's eyes narrowed and she glared at Ivy with an "Oh please!" expression. Then Sadie chewed on something in her mind, as if she was trying to make a decision. She looked Ivy up and down. "I'll lick you out if you lick me first," Sadie said flatly.

"I'm good," Ivy grumbled.

"And that shit," Sadie pursed her lips, angry again. "You think you can be one of the brothers' bitches and not lick pussy? Honey, I promise you that isn't going to fly. I can't believe you've made it this long without one of them pushing your face into a twat to suck the other brother's spunk out of it. I don't know if they are going soft or if you are some kind of fucking unicorn. You might as well get over that hang up now. You're not too precious to suck a clit, honey."

Ivy felt her face flush. She tried not to show her anger. She wasn't in a good position to defend herself in a cat fight.

"Yeah, sorry," Ivy said. "I'm just pissy. I didn't mean to take it out on you. I'm not myself."

Sadie looked at Ivy with hairy eyebrows for a moment. She seemed to be weighing something. Then Sadie exhaled and tossed the remote on the couch. She walked over and kneeled in front of Ivy.

Ivy's pulse quickened. She should have stayed in the front room on Desdemona, staring at the ceiling but away from Sadie.

Sadie ran both of her hands down Ivy's bare thighs. Ivy shuddered. Sadie lifted Ivy's right foot and began to massage it slowly.

Ivy twitched. "My feet are very ticklish."

Sadie smiled. "I'd kill the Pope to have feet as perfect as yours. You've got really nice arches."

"Thanks," Ivy said.

"What size shoe do you wear?" Sadie asked. "Like a five and a half?"

"Five wide, oh shit!" Ivy shuddered.

"Does that still tickle?" Sadie asked.

Ivy shook her head no.

"Good," Sadie smiled. Sadie's hands were warm and they did feel really good. Sadie knew how to give a decent foot rub, Ivy had to admit. To herself. Not out loud.

Sadie smiled and lifted Ivy's foot until she could kiss the soft instep. Then Sadie kissed it again. Sadie's impossibly long giraffe tongue lashed back and forth across the sensitive underside of Ivy's foot until Sadie latched her puffy cocksucking lips around Ivy's big toe. Or "biggest toe" as it were. All of Ivy's toes were tiny ivory bubbles.

Ivy's inner ears sizzled with the crazy sensation.

Sadie smiled. "Oh, you actually like that! Haven't the brothers sucked your toes?"

Ivy shook her head no.

"Neither of them?"

Ivy shook her head no.

"Huhn," Sadie mused. "That's hard to believe. They both like tiny feet. Kyle has the fetish. He likes to suck toes. Be sure to have him suck your toes while he's fucking you. It's amazing. It gets him off really fast, so don't do it if you're not over yet."

Ivy nodded. "Okay," she whispered. She was very uncomfortable with the way this was going.

Sadie forced Ivy's knees apart and Sadie licked her thumb before she pushed it up into Ivy's clit. As horny as Ivy was, it was still unwelcome. But still Ivy's pussy made a wet sound that concerned Ivy.

Sadie smiled and rolled her thumb around Ivy's pink, careful to keep her long nail from damaging the goods.

"You know what I could do?" Sadie grinned. "I could invite Dominic over to play house for a little bit."

Ivy stiffened with revulsion and fear. She looked down at Sadie to make sure that Sadie was goofing. Ivy wasn't sure.

"I could invite Dominic and a couple of his friends over to scratch my itch," Sadie continued. "And with you all bound up and naked, I'm sure they'll just leave you alone. I'm sure that's what they'd do."

"That's not funny," Ivy shivered.

"I'm dead serious," Sadie said.

"The brothers would kill you."

"They can't do shit to me they haven't already done," Sadie said. "I'm not afraid of the brothers. Besides, I'm about ready to blast out of here and fly home anyway. You keep trying to suck all the attention oxygen out of the room. I bet Dominic has some attention for me. I know Tyrus does."

Ivy's blood ran cold. Sadie looked completely serious. "You wouldn't even know where they live," Ivy muttered.

"I don't have to know where Dominic lives. I've got his phone number."

"No you don't."

Sadie rolled her thumbprint in a wet circle. "Sure I do."

"Okay," Ivy said. "Whatever."

"You don't believe me?" Sadie purred. Sadie stood and picked her phone up off the couch. Sadie tapped at the screen. Sadie turned the screen at Ivy's face. It was the photo Sadie took of Ivy ostensibly waving to Gary next to Kyle's desk. "Remember this?"

"So?" Ivy asked. Her hands and neck started to sweat under their restraints.

Sadie pinch-stretched the phone glass with finger and thumb several times. She pointed the phone back in Ivy's face. Ivy's raised palm had a phone number written on it.

Ivy gasped.

"Ah ha!" Sadie shouted. "I was almost certain that was Dominic's phone number from your conversation at the pool and now I'm sure."

"Do not call him," Ivy said.

"But I'm horny and there are no boys here. Don't you want some gentleman callers to come have some lemonade with us today?"

"Please don't," Ivy said. Her pulse was spiking with every passing minute. This was going off the rails fast. Ivy tried to pull her hands out of the cuffs again.

"Oh you don't want a visit from cute Dominic?" Sadie asked with pouty affectation. "Not Tyrus? You're missing out. Tyrus's hog isn't as big as you might guess, but what he lacks in black inches he makes up for with enthusiasm."

"Sadie, seriously," Ivy began to panic.

"Well maybe if you licked my pussy a little bit, I wouldn't be so inclined to phone out for some UberMeats delivery."

Ivy's pulse throbbed in her neck. This wasn't really happening.

Misery walked around the edge of the couch and looked at the spectacle. She shook her collar tags and woofed softly.

Ivy looked at the dog and considered what might happen if Dominic came inside the house. What if they were mean to Misery? Ivy couldn't think of anything worse than that.

Ivy clenched her teeth and began to cry angry. "Okay," Ivy sniffed. "I'll do it."

"Oh look at you!" Sadie laughed. "You totally thought I was serious! I don't want it if you're going to be all kindergarten about it. Jesus!"

Ivy stood up and walked toward the kitchen, momentarily wondering how she could get her phone off the top of the refrigerator where Kyle left it. She needed to text him before Sadie did something stupid. But there was no way she could reach the phone. And asking Sadie for it wasn't really going to fly.

Ivy was nervous as an overcaffeinated meerkat all afternoon. Everytime a car door would slam outside, Ivy's heart jumped in her throat. She'd stand up off Desdemona and peer through the venetian blinds until she saw a UPS driver throwing a box on a neighbor's porch.

Once a car pulled into the Kisselhoff driveway. Ivy nearly peed on herself. A young redheaded boy got out of the driver's side. He didn't look anything like Dominic, but the mind can play tricks on a girl. Then he walked a pizza box to the front doorbell.

Ivy hissed through her teeth, absolutely metaphysically certain that Sadie had ordered that pizza just to fuck with her.

But the next vehicle in the driveway was Pietr's truck. Ivy watched them unpack the mowers and gear and Kyle's guitar.

Kyle unlocked Ivy' hands and admonished her to get clothes on and not touch herself.

No problem. All Ivy's pent-up sexy energy had blown away with a day spent in terror that she was going to be gang raped by a bunch of psychopaths who would hurt Misery too.

Ivy kind of thought she should take another shower, being as Zooey was coming to pick her up to go have sex with a strange boy. And sex with Zooey, too. But Ivy hadn't really done anything to break a sweat besides worry about Sadistic Sadie. So Ivy dressed modestly. She didn't have "date clothes" packed anyway, and Zooey had warned Ivy not to do anything suspicious to pique Pietr's radar that Ivy was a participant in seducing their "Con." For all Pietr knew, Ivy was just going to sit in Zooey's car for an hour playing apps on her phone while Zooey went inside and "sealed the deal." Ivy was just some kind of break-glass emergency friend who was supposed to stay close and call for help if anything went wrong with this guy the brothers didn't know.

It felt good to be released from bondage. But with the brothers home, it also felt not-good. When the brothers were around to protect Ivy, Ivy was very interested to find out what they knew about 50 Shades kind of stuff. If Kyle had collars and bondage cuffs in his room, what else did he have?

Ivy tried not to think too much about what was about to happen with Zooey and her guy. She managed to not be nervous. Ivy was tying her shoes when the doorbell buzzed. She almost passed out from the spike of nerves that jolted her then.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: GOOD LI'L KITTYCATS

Ivy had purposely not dressed for the date, but Zooey was fabulous. She wore a black and silver cocktail dress and high heels. Her makeup was definitely tilted toward glamorous, with her eyes perfect and her lipstick lined.

"I've got a dress your size in the back," Zooey flicked her head. "You're somewhere between a zero and a two petite junior, right?"

"Two," Ivy said. "But I've shed some pounds eating the brother's no carb/no sugar thing. I might be a zero."

"You won't be wearing it long," Zooey said. "Jump in the back and change."

Ivy crawled over the seat into the back seat, stripped out of everything including her panties, and into the dress Zooey brought her. It was pavonine blue at the hem with an ombre fade to cream at the cold shoulders. It was a pretty dress and well-suited to Ivy's color.

"Shoes?" Ivy asked.

"Ah fuck!" Zooey shouted.

"That's okay," Ivy said. "Like you said, we probably won't be wearing anything once we get through the door."

"Sorry," Zooey cringed.

Ivy started laying on a thicker layer of slut paint from a pouch and compact Zooey provided. "No big. The cream in the dress matches my offwhite Keds. Not like I'm wearing Chuck Taylors."

Zooey laughed. "What the fuck do you know about Chuck Taylors?"

"My girl Poke has a pair. They're cute on the right girl."

"I'm sure they'd be adorable on you, Ivy. Say, uh... Ivy? Can you promise me that you're not going to hate me after all this is over?"

"Wha? Of course not!" Ivy lined her eyes with a pencil that had been properly softened by the heat of the car. "I owe you everything! Whatever happens on Thursday and Friday, I know it's because you went to the wall for me."

"Yeah," Zooey said, "But you know. I'm nineteen. You're thirteen. This is like nine-kinds of illegal."

Ivy laughed. "I wouldn't worry about that. I'm taking this to my grave. I'm probably not even going to tell Poke about this part. Telling her about the brothers, yes. Maybe not this part."

"Okay," Zooey said wistfully. "I just... Yaknow... I don't want you twenty years from now looking back and hating me for putting you through this. And messing around with you."

"Wasn't your idea." Ivy thickened her eyelashes with mascara.

Zooey was quiet for a minute. Then: "It was a little."

Ivy and Zooey locked eyes through the rearview mirror. Ivy didn't understand. "What?"

Zooey exhaled. "I don't want to lie to you, Honey. I mean, Clayton was waffling, and I had to promise to do some stuff with him that I didn't want to do when we were dating... for the five minutes we dated. But I probably could have got him to do it without you. But... Youknow, you've got a thing about you and I was girlcrushing a little. And I know you're Pietr's crush, so there's all that politics and..."

Ivy's head spun. "Wait. Zooey. Are you gay? Like gay gay?"

Zooey took some time to answer. "I love The D as much as the next slut. But every now and then there's a girl who just hits that place in my heart that boys can't seem to reach."

"Oh."

Zooey slumped in her seat. "I shouldn't have said anything. I freaked you out. You've got enough on your plate without being creeped out by my lesbian confessions."

Ivy blinked. "Does this have anything to do with why you aren't collared to the brothers?"

Zooey shook her head no. And then she said. "Maybe. I really do love both brothers with all my heart. I'd die for either of them. But being collared should mean something. It means you give yourself to a boy in your totality. One hundred percent." Zooey sighed. "And I knew I could give the brothers ninety-five percent, but that was the best I was ever going to do."

"Oh." Ivy tried to rewind all of her Zooey encounters in her head, looking for clues that she had missed.

"We're here," Zooey said, pulling to a stop in front of a house that looked older and not as nice as the Kisselhoff house. "Oh, shit, before I forget, important stuff: First, you're sixteen. Got it? He was nervous about sixteen, but nobody is going to believe you're seventeen. Next, this guy is a total kinkazoid. I would have warned you, but you'd just have worried more about it, and I think you can handle his weirdness."

"What's the weirdness?" Ivy asked with and expression of frozen fear.

"Third," Zooey ignored Ivy, "he's into butt sex. Which is more about why we broke up than the kinky stuff."

"I'm not into butt sex," Ivy said.

"Honey, I know! Listen to me! He is absolutely not going to have butt sex with you. That's about the only thing I could negotiate you out of. No buttfucking you. But of course, he's going to buttfuck me. That's the big sell for all this. He's finally getting to fuck me the way he wants."

"Okay?" Ivy asked, her eyebrows arched.

"So the thing is that I want you to know that right now my butt is very, very clean. I've been on a cleanse. I think you've heard my stomach growl. And before I left the house I did five enemas of soapy water. Trust me! My keister is as clean as a surgical table."

Ivy blinked.

Zooey tilted her head back and forth, "So if he wants you to suck him after his dong has been in my butt, it's okay. I promise you. I won't even taste like pussy tastes on a dick. It'll just taste like a dick."

"Ah!" Ivy nodded. "Okay! Got it! Anything else?"

"Uh, have fun? If you can? Maybe especially with me?" Zooey looked vulnerable. "Because I really like you and I don't want you to hate me?"

Ivy nodded, very nervous.

"Oh god, he's looking through the curtains. Let's do this, girlfriend." Zooey opened the car door muttering "Jesus Horatio Christ I need a smoke."

Ivy was stunned. Clayton was black. Zooey hadn't said anything about The Con being black.

Or at least Clayton was "technically black."

His blackness had nothing to do with pigment of his skin. His blackness had everything to do with the fact that Ivy knew instantly -- without a word being spoken -- with nothing more than the door opening -- that Clayton was a nerd. He was a black nerd. A blerd, as Poke would have said.

Clayton was at least six feet, six inches tall, slight in the hips, stomach and chest, a neck like a giraffe, and his hair was a Denzel shortcut, but not a fade. He had a big goofy smile. He was wearing a short sleeved button-up white nerd shirt and gray slacks with a black dress belt. He was squinting like people squint who should be wearing glasses, but aren't for vanity reasons.

"Hello ladies!" he said brightly.

Zooey said Clayton was "kind of cute" and he kind of was. His voice had a throaty muppet quality to it. If there was any lingering doubt... Yep. Nerd. Not like Urkel nerd, but like Engineering-student nerd.

"C'mon in! You must be Eileen!" Clayton extended his hand to Ivy as soon as she was in the door.

Ivy was in the process of correcting Clayton when she caught Zooey behind Clayton giving the wide-eyed "play along" gesture.

"Iiii--- I sure am," Ivy smiled.

"Oh, great accent!" Clayton exclaimed. "Zoe said you're from South Carolina?"

"Uh... Yep. Yep. Born and reared! I mean bred! Not reared! Bred. Getting reared would... haha. Hurt. Ha. Ahem."

"Are you two hungry?" Clayton asked. "I made a big pot of homemade Chicken soup. Plenty to share."

Ivy smelled the salty herbal thickness in the air. It smelled good.

Zooey's stomach made a loud gurgling sound. "Maybe not a good idea, Clayton. Maybe... You know. After."

"Uh, okay," Clayton laughed. "I guess we're getting down to business then, huh?"

Ivy tried to imagine Zooey dating Clayton, even "for five minutes," like she framed it. What an odd pair.

"It's not like that," Zooey laughed.

But it was like that, and everybody knew it.

"Oh before I forget," Zooey pulled a big manilla-wrapped package out of her purse, "here are the credentials. You'll be impressed."

"I'll open this later," Clayton smiled, still squinting a little. "Right now I'd rather unwrap you two. C'mon in to my bedroom."

Ivy gulped and followed Clayton. His room had Spiderman posters everywhere. His shelves had elaborate Spiderman statues on his shelf, about the size of a twelve-inch action figure, but these statues were not poseable.

"Who is that?" Ivy pointed at a poster of Spiderman with his mask off, but instead of Peter Parker, the face was black.

"Mike Morales," Clayton said.

"Why is he wearing the Spiderman costume?"

"Because he's... Spiderman?" Clayton answered.

"I thought Peter Parker was Spiderman," Ivy countered.

"He was," said Clayton. "But Peter Parker died."

"Really?" Ivy flinched. "I had no idea."

Clayton smiled. "Only in the Ultimate universe. Parker is still alive in the other comics."

"Oh," Ivy was clearly confused.

"Is it okay if I kiss you now?" Clayton asked.

"Sssshhhure," Ivy nodded.

Clayton stepped forward, bent down, and gently kissed Ivy on the lips. Then again. Then again. It was a very good kiss. Clayton's breath was minty. His lips were supple. The kisses were patient. Ivy was beginning to see Clayton's appeal to Zooey.

"Hey, what about me?" Zooey said.

Clayton turned and kissed Zooey. Zooey opened her mouth first and Clayton countered. They were tongue wrestling. His hands went to her back.

"I missed you, Zooey," he said wistfully when they broke the kiss.

"I'm here now," she smiled.

"Kiss Ivy, please," Clayton said.

"Oh yeah!" Zooey smiled. She stepped to Ivy and they kissed. The kissing went from playful to smouldering in seconds. There was little lippage. It quickly became a hot tongue kiss that went on too long and not-long-enough at the same time. Both girls were breathing hard out of their noses when Clayton pushed them apart with his hands.

"Save some for me, ladies."

Clayton resumed trading increasingly passionate kisses between Ivy and Zooey. One of his hands locked on the bustline of Zooey's dress and one locked on Ivy's boob. He was heating up. Lava Monster alert, big time.

Zooey unbuckled his belt and Ivy willed herself to grab the top of Clayton's slacks and unbutton them. Unzip them. That rumbling sound took Ivy back to her stand-up depantsing of Tad. Clayton's pants fell and Zooey tugged down his boxers. Clayton was very excited.

His dick looked like a slightly thinner, slightly darker version of Kyle's. Thank god he wasn't hung like Pietr, Ivy thought. Putting Pietr's monster in a girl's butt would likely put a girl in the hospital.

Clayton's nuts were still semi loose and covered in dark fuzz. He had hair up to his belly button, which was not terribly attractive to Ivy.

Clayton unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt and then pulled it over his head. His chest was slight, but kind of nice anyway. Merely different from the Kisselhoff brothers.

"I'm going to fall over like a tree," Clayton smiled. His underwear and slacks were sitting on top of his dress shoes.

Ivy and Zooey knelt in front of each shoe and undid the laces. It was an odd submissive tableau. Was there anything more submissive than kneeling to remove a man's shoes for sex?

Clayton stepped out of his shoes and lifted his feet in turn to pull off his dress socks. "Ladies, I don't want to be the only naked person here," he said.

Zooey smiled and reached behind her head for the zipper on her dress. Ivy did the same. There was no ceremony or sexiness to the disrobing. Just get it off. Then bra off. Panties pushed down. Clayton started kissing both standing girls again, but this time his hands were all over both girls' butts. Zooey wasted no time grabbing Clayton's crank and tugging on it. Clayton moaned. Ivy lifted a hand under Clayton's balls to gently elevate them and roll them on top of her fingernails.

"Oh man, that's amazing, Eileen," Clayton moaned. He stopped trading kisses and took a step back. He looked at each girl expectantly. Zooey winked at Ivy and knelt again. Ivy knelt as well. Zooey started to pull Clayton's dick into her mouth when Ivy reached up and pulled it out of Zooey's hand.

"Hey, you need to start sharing, girlfriend," Ivy purred. "You don't get all the firsts just because you two have history."

Ivy slurped the top of Clayton's cock in her mouth and moaned. She bobbed and slurped. Ivy shot a wink at Zooey who smiled.

You're a cocksucker, Ivy thought to herself. A cocksucker without a cock in her mouth is just a sucker.

Ivy slurped and flattened her tongue to take more of Clayton's sex in the back of her throat. She noticed Clayton watching her intently.

Sex is communication.

Ivy looked up into Clayton's gaze and batted her eyelashes seductively. She tried to smile around the stretch in her lips. Clayton was melting by the second. Ivy and Zooey might actually be out of this romp in the next five minutes, if Clayton's ratcheting ballsack was any indicator.

Alas, it was not.

Zooey opened her mouth next to Ivy's and stretched her tongue out to tickle the corner of Ivy's lips and the shaft of Clayton's cock. Ivy pulled off at the tickling sensation and let Zooey go at Clayton's sex stick like she was starving to suck a cock. Zooey's eyes were huge, and her throating of Clayton was forcefull and loud. Ivy was finesse. Zooey was a vacuum cleaner. SHe went at Clayton loud and wet and wanton.

Clayton's teeth bared with the onslaught of pleasure and the spectacle of all his fantasies coming true. Two beautiful girls kneeling in front of him, each trying to outdo the other to please him.

Ivy sucked at the testicle nearest her and Clayton's big hand went into the back of Ivy's hair, encouraging her with a soft tousseling.

"Oh lordy!" Clayton shouted. He took a step back.

Ivy was sure this is where Clayton was going to start cumming. He didn't. He took a deep breath.

"You two are great!" Clayton breathed heavy. "Please get up on the bed."

Ivy and Zooey complied. Clayton had a full-size mattress, bigger than a single, but not as big as Kyle and Pietr's beds. Ivy and Zooey knelt and waited for Clayton to rummage through a drawer in his desk. He pulled out what Ivy thought were two big feather dusters and a bottle of something that looked like lube. Ivy wondered if Clayton was into tickling.

"Zooey, turn around please," Clayton asked.

Zooey went to all fours and pointed her rear at Clayton. Clayton squeezed some of the lube onto a weird plastic hotdog-thingy at the base of the feather duster. Then he pushed the lubed plastic part into Zooey's butthole. She squeaked as it stretched her and slipped inside her ass. Clayton held the feather duster part in place for a moment to make sure it wasn't sliding back out of Zooey's butt. He let go and Ivy finally understood that it wasn't a feather duster. It was a tail.

"Okay, Eileen," Clayton said. "Your turn."

"Oh wow," Ivy said, involuntarily. "Is this going to hurt."

"I'm using a lot of lube. You can take it," Clayton smiled.

"Go slow," Ivy begged.

"That just makes it worse," Clayton answered.

Ivy felt the coldness on her butthole. Then the pressure. Then the pain as Clayton screwed the plastic base of the tail into her ass. The pain peaked and Ivy yipped, louder and sharper and considerably more unsexy than Zooey had vocalized her ass being stretched. When Ivy was ready to shout "Fuck this!" and surrender to the humiliation of Tad's treachery, the pain ebbed. Followed by a crazy sensation of the plastic part being sucked into a deep spot inside her butt.

"There, that's it," Clayton said.

Ivy looked behind her. She had a frickin' cat tail sticking out of her ass. Yep, that qualified as "Kinkazoid" alright.

Clayton went back to his drawer. Ivy watched his every move, terrified at what he might pull out next. He turned around with two sets of costume cat ears on a headband. He handed each one to each girl. "Slip these on, please."

There were some combs on each side of the headband to keep the ears on. Ivy had seen cat ears before in costume stores and at Hot Topic. These actually looked like upscale cat ears. Ivy fixed them in her hair. She looked about Clayton's room for a mirror, but there wasn't one. If Ivy looked half as frickin' adorable as Zooey did in her cat ears, she was probably quite cute. Zooey was killing it as a sexy cat.

Zooey was staring at Ivy, smiling.

"What?" smiled Ivy.

"You are the world's most adorable kitty cat," Zooey said.

"Meow meow, you think so, meow?" Ivy purred. Ivy went to her knees and folded her fingers into paws. It didn't make any sense, really, but it kind of did. Ivy licked at her "paw" and then rubbed her breast as if she was cleaning herself.

"Oh that is fucking awesome!" Clayton said. His old office desk chair had rollers on the bottom and he rolled it toward the foot of the bed and sat down. He grabbed his dick and started stroking it. "C'mon you two, show me how good kitties play good with one another."

Zooey looked at Ivy. Then she leaned forward and licked Ivy's left nipple. Ivy purred and wiggled her butt, trying to make the tail swish behind her. Ivy leaned in and licked Zooey's right nipple. It felt sticky against her tongue, like the little pink texture poking out was trying to grab her back. Ivy arched her into a backbend while Zooey licked tit again and then sucked onto Ivy's nipple. The sensation sizzled in Ivy's ears. Then Zooey broke suction and licked all the way up Ivy's breast, all the way up her shoulder, and then licked her neck below her left ear. Ivy shuddered at the amazing sensation. Zooey's hands pushed under Ivy's breasts and lifted them while Zooey's tongue mapped up to the top of Ivy's earlobe. Ivy forgot to breathe. The skin all over her body went into overdrive and she put on a suit of goosebumps.

Zooey pulled back and looked Ivy deep in her eyes, forging her own connection. Zooey's lips parted and she moved in for a kiss. Ivy tried to kiss back, but Zooey's fingertips on Ivy's chin stopped Ivy inches short of a liplock. Instead Zooey's tongue pushed way out. Ivy pushed her tongue way out. The two girls trilled the very tips of their tongues against one another. Ivy began heating up in an unexpected way.

Zooey pushed Ivy on her back. The artificial tail curled up between Ivy's legs like a giant furry penis, tickling Ivy's vulva. Zooey worked her tongue back down to Ivy's breasts and took long sucks on each. Zooey didn't bite her nipples. Girls understood that wasn't a thing that girls like.

Ivy purred a low gurgle in her throat, playing the good kitty for their audience. Zooey started licking down Ivy's stomach and Ivy forgot there was anybody other than Zooey in the room with her. Zooey's eyes were big and she was stunningly beautiful. And her tongue was lashing around in the divit beneath Ivy's mons. God damn, Zooey was a good pussy licker. The electricity went everywhere in Ivy. She could feel her elbows tingling. Her knees quivering. Her toes curling.

"Meow what a sweet pussy this kitty cat has," Zooey said in her most musical feminine voice. Zooey's lips latched onto one of Ivy's labia, stretching it upwards like a short triangle of pink-white taffy.

"Oh that's so fucking hot," Clayton said. He was really pulling his dick now.

Zooey's tongue went flat and the center of it blasted a long pull up Ivy's clitoris, north-south just the way she liked it. Ivy shouted out, breaking character. "Ah fuck!" Ivy's back arched hard and her hands flew up over her head for some reason Ivy herself didn't understand, some submissive echo of genetic programming.

Zooey started sucking on Ivy's clit. Zooey knew how to nibble and suck a clit. Ivy kept looking down. As much as Ivy loved looking down at the top of a boy's head and a boy's hungry expression when a boy -- okay one of the Kisselhoff brothers -- licked her pussy, it was even more amazing to see a super pretty girl with a gorgeous kissable girl mouth down there. Boys looked hungry when they ate pussy. Zooey's expression was of rapturous completeness; not like she wanted Ivy to cum, but as if she wanted Ivy to never cum so she never had to pause her mouth artistry for a second. As if it were more important to Zooey to suck in Ivy's sex drippings than it was for Ivy to enjoy the talented mouth dancing around her nether region.

Ivy's breathing kept hitching. She found herself bouncing her own butt on the bed. Her heels kept pushing wider into the comforter, opening her folds to invite more of Zooey's creamy soft-n-rough tongue against her crazyspot.

Ivy heard the creaky office chair making its squeaky "Ehhhnn-hhyyy ehnnn-yye" sound. Somewhere in another world a tall black boy was jerking off.

The tip of Zooey's tongue circled Ivy's clit. Ivy did not know what to do with the wracking sensation of too much pleasure delivered one iota too gently to spring her resolve and set her off. All Zooey had to do was latch on and suck her clit hard for a couple seconds, and Ivy would soak the mattress with a hard cum. Ivy wanted it. Wanted it so bad, but her mouth couldn't shape the words to beg for it because there was just too much TOOMUCH bouncing around her brain. Ivy looked down again and Zooey looked so beautiful enraptured, moving her pretty kisser about Ivy's naughty parts. Zooey's tongue was very pink and feminine.

A long black dick stabbed Ivy in the mouth. She never saw Clayton walking to the bed. She just focused long enough to see the dick thrusting at her lips. Ivy was a cocksucker. And a cocksucker without a cock in her mouth was just a sucker. So Ivy sucked Clayton's cock. She sucked and slurped and licked Clayton's cock. Somewhere far up in the atmosphere above her, Clayton's face was bliss.

Zooey finally latched on to Ivy's clitoris in the hard, pumping-slidey suction that Ivy had been craving. Unfortunately Ivy was concentrating on the hard warm cock in her mouth. It was hard to suck cock from your back. Clayton was drilling down into her lips.

Ivy was on the edge of the edge; that teetering tipping point where she could cum any millisecond.

Damned if Clayton didn't pull out of Ivy's mouth and bump Zooey's head away from Ivy's crotch so he could mount Ivy. He pushed the spring of his cock downward, nestling the head in all the sloppy wetness that was Ivy's puss.

Clayton grabbed each of Ivy's tits like they were handlebars and thrust into her.

"Oh shit wow," Ivy gasped.

"It's a big one," Clayton smiled.

"Oh yes," Ivy modded, "the biggest I've ever seen." Ivy made eye contact with Zooey who grinned and winked at the good lie.

"You are one tight kitty," Clayton groaned. "You like that big black dick in your pussy, kitty?"

"Oh meow yes," Ivy purred. "Fuck your pretty kitty with that big black cock!"

Clayton banged away at Ivy, faster. Something was happening inside of Ivy. The plastic part of the tail in her ass was simultaneously pushing Clayton's thrusting meat higher into the fuckspot on the top of Ivy's fucktunnel, and making a rippling sensation on the lower side where the ridges in the plastic anchor were rippling pleasure through the thin wall between pussy and ass.

Clayton flipped Ivy to all fours. He had Zooey suck Ivy's pussy drippings off his cock for a minute. And then mounted Ivy from behind and bitchfucked her. Hard. So hard that Ivy was going to bounce forward off Clayton's cock if he didn't lean forward and grab the back mane of her hair. Clayton yanked Ivy backwards while thrusting his meat forward, punishing Ivy's little pixie pussy, deep deep deeper.

Ivy felt Clayton's free hand drop to her butt crack. She felt the warmth of the heel of his hand as it closed around the base of Ivy's tail, gripping it and — by proxy— taking control of Ivy's lower half. He started a slight stab-and-pull motion that moved the plastic finger anchor within the depth of Ivy's ass. Then bigger motions that pulled the plastic part backwards to where it started to test the stretch of the ring of Ivy's butthole. This pushed Clayton's fuckstroke even farther into Ivy's inner slutspot. It made the crazy pleasurepain sensation that baked Ivy's brain.

Ivy meow-begged Clayton to fuck her. The meow-play was silly but Ivy seriously craved the hard fucking part. Her asshole sparked hot with pain. Maybe Clayton agreed not to fuck Ivy in the ass with his penis, but he was definitely testing her virgin pink pucker with the little dildo at the base of the tail.

With Ivy being pounded on all fours, Zooey slid her shaved pussy under Ivy's face and leaned back. It's hard to lick pussy while your bones are being rattled by fuck impact. Ivy didn't hesitate, even though close-up, pussy looked more complicated than it seemed when it was the reflection of your own pussy in a mirror or a diagram in a Health Education textbook.

Zooey pulled the hood of her clit up using a splay of two manicured fingertips framing each side. The glistening queen pink pearl between the glossy red fingernails seemed like a good place to start. Ivy closed her mouth over it and sucked it, licked it, and sucked some more. The expectant expression on Zooey's face was not part of Clayton's theater. Zooey looked slightly panicked. Not fear, but slack jawed impatience.

Ivy's tongue tested the under ramp of Zooey's clit, that spot where Ivy really liked the brothers tongue to drag on its way to nerve central. Zooey's shoulders hitched forward and Ivy knew she was onto something.

Ivy pushed into the tangle of Zooey's modest labia, forcing it into a butterfly split. Ivy put big dog licks all over Zooey's twat, fully tasting her girlness. Every time Ivy's mouth came away to breathe, Zooey's pussy had a thicker sheen of horniness and her clit was a bit more distended.

"Do me," Zooey panted, "Get it! Lick it! Suck that puss babydoll!"

Ivy latched her lips over Zooey's button and sucked hard. Zooey smashed her pussy into Ivy's top teeth in a lewd grind and flipped a flag of brunette hair from shoulder to shoulder. Ivy wasn't prepared for the hot tasteless spray in her mouth. Ivy forgot that Zooey was a squirter. It was a lot of squirt.

Clayton stepped back and his cock popped out of Ivy's fuckhole. Ivy looked over her shoulder to see Clayton panting. She wondered if he spermed her. It didn't look like it.

"Oh that was hot," Clayton huffed. "I almost nutted. Eileen your pussy is so nice. You both are so fucking pretty. You're even sexier in those ears than my wildest fantasy."

"Thank you," Ivy smiled. "Why didn't you just cum?"

"And miss the main event?" Clayton said between breaths. "Zooey, get over here."

"Check," Zooey said.

"All fours." Clayton pointed at the edge of the bed.

Zooey came to bitch, her ass pointed at Clayton. Clayton yanked the tail out of her asshole and Zooey tipped. Her eyes bugged.

"Get that fine booty ready to be proper fucked," Clayton growled.

Zooey looked over her shoulder. "Lube it please baby?"

Clayton nodded and squirted a racing stripe down the length of his russet-and-rose wang. He pumped it with his hand to spread the slick. Ivy watched Clayton struggle to force his cockhead into Zooey's starfish. He must have got it where he wanted it. Ivy couldn't see Clayton's cock disappear in Zooey's ass from her angle, but there was no mistaking the agony washing over Zooey's face. Zooey's jaw unhinged and she made a crazy white scream noise.

Clayton's eyes thinned. He looked so satisfied and smug. Then he started a slow building fuckstroke. Zooey's head tried to crawl off her neck, first one direction and then another. Clayton's narrow chest picked up a sheen of sweat. His little buns thrust and his big sprawling hands rained down over Zooey's curvy, upturned butt globes.

From Clayton's stoned-ape expression, it sure seemed like in a matter of seconds, Ivy would be the only one who had not came. Not fast enough for Zooey, who was gritting her bared teeth.

"Shoulda gave it to me the first time I asked," Clayton hissed through his teeth.

"Ssssss-orry," Zooey squeaked. "Your dick is so big it's hard to take it in my ass."

"It's a hot ass," Clayton mumbled. "Hot hot ass."

Zooey pounded the bed in frustration. "Jesus!"

"Feelin' dat?" Clayton was getting more urban with each passing thrust, although he still kind of sounded like a muppet imitating a black guy.

"Oh baby," Zooey groaned through clenched teeth. "I'm feelin' every inch of it."

"Every inch of what?"

"Your big black cock," Zooey hissed. "I feel every inch of your big black cock."

"I'm gonna fuck this hot booty for an hour," Clayton exclaimed.

He sure didn't look like he could keep going for another hour. He looked like he was going to blast off any second.

Zooey looked at Ivy with a pitiful expression that communicated "Help!"

Ivy pointed her pussy at Clayton and opened her legs. She leaned back and propped herself at a relaxed angle using one arm to the bed for a support post. With her other hand she began to rub her bean in a showy way. Ivy licked her own fingers, sucking the pussy dripping off them and then pushed them back in her own folds, pulling up to a clit she frigged furiously.

Clayton's eyes locked on Ivy's naughty masterbation show. He fucked faster. Faster. Ivy frigged faster. She was pretty wet and everyone could hear her clit squishing between her blurry fingertips. Ivy wasn't much of an exhibitionist, but she was looking at Zooey's pained expression and it was actually making Ivy hornier. Zooey looked so helpless and raw. Submissive. As if Zooey was trapped in the pleasurepain place that Ivy was starting to crave with every vibration of her button.

Ivy stopped breathing. Her eyes got big. She grunted. Her ears started to spin. Clayton saw it all and he was pulled over the edge too.

"Ohgawdshithellfuck!" Clayton shouted. His thrusts tapered away.

It was over.

Clayton stumbled back to his office chair and dropped into it, making the squeaky swivel scream in protest. His shoulders relaxed. He looked at both girls and smiled.

"That was fucking awesome," he panted. "So do you want some soup now?"

When you are freshly fucked, it is kind of hard to not look freshly fucked. To that end, Ivy tried to steer clear of the brothers once she was back.

Both brothers were in the war room, Pietr on the PC with three monitors and Kyle on his laptop. They seemed super busy. Ivy just stuck an arm through the door and waved. Sadie was not in the room.

"Hey," Ivy said. "I'm back."

"How'd it go?" Pietr asked.

Ivy shrugged casually. "Zooey said everything went fine. Clayton is still committed. He's got the package you sent him and he said he'd be by on Thursday night for his briefing."

"You talked to Clayton?" Pietr asked. "You were supposed to wait in the car?"

"He walked Zoe out to her car and we talked for a minute."

Pietr looked at Ivy like he was scanning her with a optical lie detector. "You sure about that?"

Ivy didn't want to double down on the lie. Once was bad enough. "Where's Sadie?"

"On the lanai, pouting," Kyle said, not looking up from his laptop screen. "She's in full attention whore mode and she doesn't seem to care that we're in crunch time."

"She got a talking to," Pietr said. "And not the kind she likes."

"Hmm," Ivy nodded. I'll steer clear.

Kyle looked at his watch. "Ninety minutes," he said.

"What's that?"

"What do you think?" Kyle said. "Ninety minutes. Be showered and naked in my bed."

"Kay." Ivy nodded.

For as hard as Clayton had fucked her, Ivy wasn't particularly sore. Considering she rubbed one out three hours earlier, her pussy was quite anticipating the evening with Kyle. Maybe this was how Sadie started out. Maybe one day Ivy would have crazy hair and be super bold with boys and take one boy in her butt while the other fucked her senseless in the pussy.

She was on Kyle's bed, showered and nude, on time. Kyle was over an hour late. Ivy heard the war room break up. Pietr announced he was going for a run before a shower. There was more talk about "resting up for Pietr's big day tomorrow." Kyle entered his room and put away his laptop and organized some papers on his desk.

"Hey Sweetness, you ready?"

"Yes," Ivy nodded.

"Good. My balls are heavy. We're gonna have a good time."

Ivy shook her head in the negative. "No, I'm pretty sure the house is going to catch on fire, or a tornado is going to blow the roof off, or you are going to spontaneously combust into a Kyle-shaped pile of ashes on the floor. We aren't meant to happen."

Kyle smiled. "Oh, I can fuck in a tornado."

"I bet you can," Ivy smiled back.

"You still want to shave my pussy bare?" Kyle asked.

"Don't you want that?"

"I do. I think you'd look even sexier bare. If that's even possible."

"Well let's do it," Ivy nodded.

"Be right back," Kyle winked.

Ivy had no idea that having a boy shave her pussy would be so weird and so sexy at the same time. There was so much attention on her as Kyle lathered her up and carefully razored off what the trimmer left behind. Kyle kept testing the shaved mons for stubble with his fingertips. All that tender touching on-and-about her snatch heated Ivy to a low broil. There was no doubt Kyle could see her wetness. Ivy could feel it.

Kyle eventually tapped the last of shaving cream off Ivy's mound and dribbled some baby oil on it. He started a rub down of Ivy's sexterior that quickly moved into her sinterior. Ivy didn't need any lubrication, but the thick mix of oil and nature frothed up quite a lather.

Kyle gathered up the towels they used to protect the comforter from stubble and soap, balled them up, and threw them in a hamper hidden in his closet. He did a Superman jump back to the bed and landed so hard beside Ivy that she bounced off the bed. Giggles galore.

Kyle kissed Ivy slowly. They lay back on the bed with Kyle to the side and only his head hovering over Ivy's face. Kyle kissed and diddled Ivy until she wanted to scream with pent-up frustration. He knew exactly what he was doing. He was spinning up her clit. He was inserting up-angled fingers into her fuckspot. And when Ivy's temperature spiked, he was playing with Ivy's pussy lips and the ridgy-circumference of her fuckhole. He'd drop his mouth to suck her tits. She'd never been on-edge for so long without cumming or giving up in frustration.

This was what she wanted with Tad, so many months ago. Slow connection.

As if reading her mind, Kyle kissed Ivy and got up to turn off the light on the ceiling fan. He had some cool blue LED rope lights draped over the curtain rod to his window and he clicked them on.

"You okay," Kyle asked. "Too hot? Too cold?"

"I'm great," Ivy whispered.

Kyle thumbed a playlist on his ancient iPhone and a bluetooth speaker on his desk picked it up. It was a nice mix. Downtempo Michael Bubblé. Really too much of an oldie for Ivy's taste, but the thought behind it was was right. At least Kyle understood "screwing music." Stupid Tad probably would have put The Best of Gwar on his lovemaking mix.

Kyle pulled his shirt off and shucked his pants. God damn, that cut, triangular. impossibly wide chest of his. That smirky upturned corner of his mouth. Those cocky eyebrows. Those perfect stone-roll buns. Everything that took Ivy's breath away was on full display. Including his perfect, veinless, circumcised dick thickening to half-mast.

He moved to the bed.

Kyle was a boy who really knew how to mount a girl. He knew just how and where to hover over Ivy as he warmed her heart with more kisses and looked at her with adoration, the way a boy who was about to fuck you should look.

"You are so fucking cute, girl," Kyle growled.

"Yeah?" Ivy asked. She reached under Kyle and grabbed his thick cock, tugging it. "Too cute to fuck proper?"

"Just cute enough to fuck proper."

"Mmmm," Ivy purred. "That remains to be see--Ohhhhh!"

Kyle's thickness parted her and filled Ivy's need. It was wonderful. He carefully slow-screwed her with a twist of his hips at just the right moment to pivot his manhood around a corner or back across her G-spot at an unexpected angle. Just unexpected enough that the regular back-and-forth/up-and-down of his cockhead massaging that same spot never succumbed to boredom.

It wasn't Kyle cock that was slaying Ivy. It wasn't the power or the motion of his fucking. It was his eyes, burning through her. Eating her up. That crazy, hungry, needy look that was hard-coded into Ivy's DNA. Before Ivy even knew what a penis was, when she watched princess movies, she'd see the way the prince looked at the princess, and that's what she'd think about when she was drifting off to sleep; the way a man looked at you when he loved you. The way her dad used to look at her, only without the hungry horny part.

Kyle picked up speed and Ivy began to rock with the swaying motion of Kyle's forcefulness. He was doing some kind of yoga move that swooped his chest down, brushing it across Ivy's stiff antennae nipples before he arched back up over Ivy so she could see every perfect bit of him. He was going to make some beautiful kids one day. Ivy sighed and melted.

Kyle fucked her.

Kyle fucked her.

Kyle fucked Ivy. His stamina was impressive. Unfortunately Ivy's pinata cervix was losing the battle. Ivy loved being Kyle's fuck puppet, but she realized she wasn't going to cum. She almost asked Kyle if he could take a break and spank her. Ivy wanted to test Kyle's spanking technique. Surely he would rub her butt good and for a long time before the spanking started. Ivy got wetter just thinking about it and moaned a deep, rumbling moan.

"You like that fucking, girl," Kyle growled.

"Oh, so good," Ivy purred. "Fuck me. Make me yours. Fill me with your cum. Fuck me."

"Yeah, you're a little slut."

Good. This was the endgame. Ivy brought out her best whore-fu. "I am a little slut. I like when you fuck me."

"You like it when boys fuck you."

Ivy followed Kyle's lead. "Yeah, I like boys who fuck me."

"Because you're a slut."

"I'm your slut."

"And Pietr's cocksucking slut." Kyle was picking up intensity. He was going to cum.

"You don't mind if I suck Pietr's big cock, do you?"

"You can't help it," Kyle breathed. "Because you love sucking cock, don't you?"

Okay, Kyle was feeding her a script. More tramp. "Yeah, I love sucking boys' hard cocks," Ivy purred, leaning into the K sounds in suck and cock.

Ivy had a thought. It was time for Kyle to finally cum. She lifted her foot and rubbed Kyle's stubbled jaw with her toes. Kyle didn't seem to pick up on the hint. She rubbed her foot back and forth across his jaw. Kyle still just acted like he didn't care.

Ivy pushed her toes into Kyle's mouth. Surely he would suck her toes and get over on his kink.

Kyle flinched. "The fuck are you doing?" he said. He stopped fucking. "Get your foot out of my mouth."

"I thought you liked that?" Ivy was stunned by the rebuke.

"Why would I want your disgusting feet in my mouth?"

"I'm... I'm sorry." Ivy cringed.

"That's gross."

Ivy flushed angry. She realized what happened and she wanted to scratch Sadie's eyes out.

"I got some bad intel, Kyle. I said I'm sorry."

Kyle resumed fucking, begrudgingly.

Ivy tried to recover and not show how furious she really was. Why did she think she could believe Sadie, that fucking lying bitch? From now on, she was only going to take Kyle advice from Zooey.

Ping!

"Can I tell you something?" Ivy said.

"What," Kyle growled, humping his cock hard again.

"I lied. I fucked Zooey's guy with her."

"Really?" Kyle was paying attention now. "The black dude?"

Ivy nodded. "Yep."

"You fucked a black guy?"

Ivy nodded.

Kyle started fucking faster and harder. "Seriously? Did you suck his cock?"

"Of course I sucked his cock," Ivy purred. "I'm a cocksucker. It's my job."

"Did he have a big cock?"

"Oh my gawd!" Ivy laid it on thick. "He had such a big. Black. Cock. Stretched my little pussy so hard. Made me feel like such a little whore to have such a BIG. Bah-lack. Cock. Fucking me so. Fucking. Hard."

"Did you cum," Kyle was panting and humping hard.

"Like a dozen times," Ivy hissed. "I kept going off like a bottlerocket when that big black hammer showed me who was boss."

"What a whore," Kyle hissed.

"I can't help it," Ivy acted like she was pouting. "When I wrapped my lips around that big dick, I just had to be fucked hard like a little slut bitch."

"WOOFfuuuuhhhhhhh...." Kyle unloaded in Ivy. She could feel Kyle's spunk jetting against her sore pussy walls. He kept thrusting a lot longer. He dropped to kiss Ivy.

"Thanks girl," He said. He collapsed.

Ivy slid her head into the crook of Kyle's armpit and rubbed his chest.

"Gah. You're sweaty," Kyle protested.

"That's your fault, stud."

"Seriously. You're like a million degrees. Give me a minute to get my body temperature down."

Ivy sighed and skootched back to her side of the bed.

"Did you really fuck Sadie's guy, or was that a put-on?" Kyle asked.

"No, I fucked him."

"You were supposed to wait in the car. Pietr's going to be angry with Zoe."

"Oh don't do that," Ivy said. "Don't snitch. It wasn't Zooey's fault. It was my idea. She was doing it for me, and I felt like shit. It was only fair that I participated."

Kyle smirked and rolled on his side. He picked his phone off the nightstand and turned off the music. He turned back to Ivy. "You felt sorry for Zooey fucking a guy she likes?"

"Well she had to let him fuck her in the butt. So..."

"Really?" Kyle's eyes got huge. "In the ass? Zoe took it in the ass? Zoe hates it in the ass."

Ivy sighed. "You are kind of making my point, Kyle."

"Did you take it in the ass?"

"No. Just Zooey. My keister is a no-fly zone."

"So far," Kyle winked. "Man, I can't believe that Zee let a guy ass fuck her. And he was huge, you say?"

Ivy shrugged. "Not that huge. Not as big as you."

"But you said—"

"I was talking shit to get you over. You're bigger."

"Oh," Kyle seem strangely disappointed by this revelation. "But still... That's why Pietr and I couldn't collar her. She wouldn't give us her ass."

"Is that a requirement of a collar?"

"Totality," Kyle said. "That's the requirement. A girl has to give herself in totality."

"Oh," Ivy thought this over. "I actually might... MIGHT be able to take you in my butt if you went slow and used plenty of lube. Not Pietr though."

"Pee understands that," Kyle said. "He doesn't go there. Turns the fun into unfun really quickly when a girl is seriously hurt in an unfun way."

"That's cool," Ivy said. She inched back over and tried to snuggle Kyle.

"You're still really warm," Kyle protested. "And I'm super tired. We've got a big day tomorrow and then we've got to prepare for Operation Ivy tomorrow night. I've got to get some sleep."

"What big thing is Pietr doing tomorrow?" Ivy asked.

"It's just football practice," Kyle yawned. "Important football practice."

"Ahkay," Ivy said. She reached for Kyle's palm, just to hold his hand.

Kyle rolled away to the window before Ivy could lock fingers.

Ivy huffed. "We never dance together anymore," she said wistfully.

The ironic jab was not lost on Kyle. He laughed in a hard huff. A moment later he was snoring softly.

"Dammit," Ivy muttered to herself in frustration. She tried to sleep but ended up staring at the ceiling for an hour. The more she thought about how her big night with Kyle was all sex and no afterglow, the more she steamed.

She got out of bed, careful not to wake Kyle. Her plan was to go downstairs and sit on the lanai for a few minutes and enjoy the night air on her skin. That might help her relax a little and let go of her disappointment at Kyle. The real plan was for Misery to hear her, come check on her, and then lean against Ivy's leg while Ivy got her snuggle satisfaction from the dog. It was so disappointing. She had finally got what she wanted and it turned out to not be what she wanted after all. Kyle's attention was amazing when it was focused on her. But his limited bandwidth was spread across a very wide spectrum of interests and people.

Pietr's bedroom door was half open. Ivy lingered and listened to his deep breathing. Ivy could hear Sadie snoring too.

Ivy tiptoed into the room. Pietr was on his back. Sadie was face down in a pillow with only the corner of her mouth snorkeling air. Ivy thought about the toe-sucking lie Sadie used to almost blow-up her Kyle night and Ivy considered pushing another pillow over Sadies face until that bitch stopped kicking.

Pietr looked so peaceful. Ivy couldn't stop herself. She gently pulled some fingertips over Pietr's stubbled chin. He stirred and looked up at Ivy in the moonlight. Ivy started to apologize but before she could, Pietr's blank expression warmed to a big smile.

"Hey," he whispered. "Everything okay, Ivy?"

Ivy nodded.

"You sure? You have a bad dream?"

Ivy lied and nodded yes. It was the easy excuse for having woke him, and he was handing it to her.

Pietr flipped the sheet up and turned on his side, making room for Ivy along the open edge of the bed. "C'mon, Darlin."

Ivy lay down. Pietr covered her up, first with the sheet and then with his tree trunk arms.

"That feels good," Ivy sighed.

"You sure do," Pietr whispered.

Ivy drank in that heady, crazy, girl feeling of pure safety, the intoxicating feeling she used to get from crawling into bed with her father. Pietr gently stroked Ivy's hair above her left ear, which was just more sleepy happy whipped cream on top of a safety contentment sundae.

Ivy's last sensation before drifting away was that of melting into the big boy, becoming one with him.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: OPERATION IVY

Ivy's first subconscious thought was that Kyle was paying back Pietr for the fire drill. But the alarm wasn't nearly as piercing and the room was still dark. All three occupants of Pietr's bed flinched awake at the alarm chirping sound that Pietr's phone was making on the desk where it lay. Ivy, claiming the least amount of bed real estate and being wrapped in Pietr, nearly went into the floor when Pieter startled.

"What the holy fuck," croaked Sadie.

Pietr climbed out of his bed and looked at his phone. "Oh no." He sounded like he'd been kicked in the balls. "Dear God, not today. Not today."

He went to Kyle's room. "Wake up, dude." Ivy eavesdropped. "CERT Australia found our exploit while running an ANZUS drill. Norton has picked it up. Kaspersky challenged, but that's perfunctory. They'll have a patch by Thursday. We go now."

"Fuck that," Kyle mumbled. "It'll be two weeks before rack techs in the states get around to patching the DNS servers. Go back to bed."

"The rootkit worm won't be able to handshake. We can't take the chance," Pietr said. "So much depends upon the red wheelbarrow."

Ivy wondered if she was still dreaming because nothing Pietr was saying sounded rational. Worm what? Kaspersky what? What wheelbarrow was he talking about?

"Go back to bed," Kyle mumbled. "You've got your thing tomorrow. Er.. Today."

A moment later Ivy heard a commotion, followed by a thump on the floor and Kyle screaming, "HEY!"

"Get your ass out of bed, Kay," Pietr ordered. "We are operational. We are live. Let's go."

A moment later Pietr was back in his room, pulling on clothes and gathering his tech.

"What's wrong," Ivy asked.

"Nothing," Pietr growled. "Everything. Don't worry about it. I'll make it right."

Sadie leaned up. Her big balloon tits and brown saucer nipples spilled over the bedclothes. "Anything I can do for you honey?" she asked.

"Coffee," Pietr said. "We need coffee."

"You got it," Sadie smiled.

Pietr breezed back into Kyle's room and closed the door behind them.

Sadie's smile faded. "Bitch, make the boys some coffee," Sadie yawn. "And keep it quiet. I'm going back to bed."

Ivy paced nervously. Sometime after nine, the brothers called Ivy into the War Room for something other coffee refills. Ivy texted her cheesecake photo to Poke while the boys stared at their monitors and waited for their virus to phone home. It did not work.

"Fuck!" Kyle shouted. "What is going on?"

"Are you sure Poke has an iPhone?" Pietr asked. "What version of iOS is she on?"

Ivy shrugged. "Dunno. I know she doesn't update her phone when it tells her to. She says she doesn't like being bossed around by nerds."

Pietr's face pinched in frustration. "Call and find out what her iOS version is on her phone."

Ivy texted Poke. Her phone chirped. "Ten two one," Ivy relayed.

"Crimineny," Pietr exclaimed. He pulled up a revision history on his browser and scanned down the monitor with his finger. "Ahshit. That was when they switched to plaintext client certificates and they parsed contact card with the input validation they changed back in Eleven."

"That would explain it," Kyle nodded. "What are the odds that anybody other than Ivy's pal is still on iOS twelve, man. We're good. You get ready for football. I'll test with Zooey."

Pietr wasn't having it. "Nope. Water must flow the same way twice. We have to ping this through Atlanta. Variables the same. Zoe has Android Oreo. We know it's going to work with Oreo, and we know it's going to work local. We can't take any chances."

"Pee, seriously," Kyle furrowed his eye caterpillars. "Get ready to go. I can handle it."

"If it were Android, I would," Pietr sighed. "Clock is running out of time. This is iOS and I have to do it to be sure."

"Pietr, don't make me kick your ass," Kyle growled. "Get ready for football."

"This is more important," Pietr shook his head. "And you couldn't kick my ass with an Abrams tank."

"Goddammit!" Kyle shouted. He opened his mouth, but looked at Ivy. Then he started shouting in Russian.

Pietr just shook his head until Kyle said something in Russian that made Pietr shout back, hard and loud. Ivy jumped. Then it got really raucous. Lots of screaming.

"HEY!" Sadie had snuck in the room along everybody's blindside, as per usual. Everybody jumped when she shouted. She held out her hand to Pietr and yawned. It had Pietr's phone in it.

"Mother of dragons," Sadie yawned again and shuffled out.

Pietr looked at the phone display. He flinched and turned the phone to speaker.

"Hey mom!" Pietr said.

"What was all that yellin?" Asked Kelly Dawn.

"Uh... We were playing Monopoly and Pietr was cheating me out of my hotel revenue," Kyle said.

"You were playing Monopoly at nine in the morning?"

"Yes," said Pietr, looking at Kyle with a Why'd you say that, dumbass? look.

"You two haven't played a board game since the time Kyle punched out Timmy Gardener in Third Grade when you three were playing Sorry!"

Kyle made a sour face. "That little asshole couldn't just move the pawn to the space. He had to smack it every square on the board too hard when he was counting off his moves."

"So what's really going on?" asked Kelly Dawn.

Kyle looked at Pietr.

"We were fighting about a girl." Kyle said.

"Now that I believe," Kelly Dawn said.

"She was talking to me first, Mom," Pietr said, winking at Kyle. "Kyle kept horning in like he always does with his stupid Matthew McConaughey act."

"That's bullshit, Mom," Kyle shouted, winking back at Pietr. "She was totally into me first."

"Bullshit!" Pietr shouted.

"The fuck you know about anything!" Kyle shouted back.

"Boys! Boys! Knock it off!" Kelly Dawn shouted. "You are brothers! Act like it!"

"Yes, Mom," the brothers said in unison. They both smiled.

"How's the cruise?" Kyle asked.

"That's why I'm calling. I guess you've been following Tropical Storm Keith."

Kyle and Pietr looked at each other. Pietr immediately turned to Google and said, "Yeah. Of course. We've been worried about you." Pietr quickly scanned a headline. He tapped the mute button on his phone. "Moving west out of Carribean," he said to Kyle. Looks like it could go Cat One." He unmuted the phone. "We saw on the weather last night that they thought it could become a hurricane. Are you safe?"

"We're fine," Kelly Dawn said. "We made weigh from Havana a day early to outrun the storm, but it's moving faster than we thought. The Captain is taking an evasive action and we're going to dip south just to be safe. But that means the cruise is extending two or three days maybe. Will you two be okay for a couple more days without me?"

Kyle and Pietr did an high-five without actually clapping their hands at the end.

"I guess," Pietr said. "But I'm really worried about you mom."

"We've been worried sick," Kyle added.

"Don't be silly," Kelly Dawn said. "They've turned the free Wi-Fi on and issued us another raft of drink tickets. We will be fine. You've got plenty of money, so I know you won't starve. Doesn't Pietr have his football thing this week?"

"It was canceled," Pietr interrupted, cutting off Kyle who had.opened his mouth to speak.

"Oh that's disappointing. I'm sorry, Darling."

"Not a big deal," Pietr said. "Probably be rescheduled."

Kyle glared at Pietr. Ivy thought they were going to go again.

"Everything okay with Ivy?" Kelly Dawn asked.

"Who?" Kyle asked. "Oh, is she the little blonde? What happened to her anyway, Pee? Last I saw she was swimming in the retaining pond where the gators were. That was like last week."

"Dunno," Pietr said. "I thought you were watching her."

"Uh huh," Kelly Dawn was not amused. "You two are hysterical. Be good hosts, okay? Take her to a movie. Don't just dump her in front of the TV. Show her the town."

"Oh mooooom," Kyle winked at Ivy. "She's like ten years old. We have nothing in common."

"She's a lovely girl," Kelly Dawn said. "And at least there's finally one girl your brother likes who you two aren't fighting over."

Ivy preened, making a smug face. She mouthed the word lovely.

"Any luck with Ivy, Pietr?"

Pietr exhaled a moan.

"She's not into you, Pietr?" Kelly Dawn asked.

Pietr looked pained. "Nope. She's hot for Kyle. As usual."

"Oh, I'm sorry, baby," Kelly Dawn said in her most momvoice. "There's a girl out there for you."

"Thanks mom," Pietr looked at Ivy with a really sad expression.

Suddenly Ivy felt that terrible guilt feeling in her stomach. She had thought the brothers were acting for their mother. But wasn't that kind of exactly what happened, from a Pietr perspective?

Whatever football thing Pietr was supposed to do, he didn't do it. He didn't leave. They kept trying their virus on Poke, and it didn't work. Pietr was getting really snippy and stressed.

In the middle of the stress, fucking Sadie walked in the room nude and tried to give Kyle a blowjob. Kyle blew her off, and Sadie knelt in front of Pietr. Pietr was much more brusque with Sadie. She was offended. She told the boys and Ivy to fuck off and stormed out of the room.

A couple minutes after eleven, Pietr's phone started blowing up. He looked at the screen, cringed, and silenced the calls. After the tenth call in a row he turned the phone off and threw it in a drawer.

Kyle gave Pietr serious side-eye. "Hope it was worth it, brother," he grumbled.

"It's worth it," Pietr grumbled back. "Why isn't this shit working! Why?" He pounded his desk with his fists.

"I don't know," Kyle groused. "It's all there. It slides the fuck right around the VPN, It deploys. It completely seems to have no trouble with Android or Microsoft. Your iOS shit is fucking elegant. I don't know why Apple is cockblocking us."

"Wait a minute," Pietr stiffened. He scrolled up through his code. "Ivy, does Paulette have her VPN turned on?"

Ivy texted. Her phone chirped. "What is a VPN?" Ivy read aloud.

Pietr looked again at his code. "That's it. We assumed everybody is using the free iOS VPN now. But the gatecheck was pointed to the wrong subroutine if it's disabled."

Pietr's fingers blurred across his keyboard. His monitor flashed and reset. He was super serious looking. "Here we go," he said through thin lips. "Ready. Mark. Send."

Kyle looked at his monitor. There was a long, tense stretch of silence. "C'mon," Kyle mumbled at his monitor. "C'mooooon."

Pietr and Kyle both jumped out of their chairs at the same time and hugged it out. "Yes! Ah ha! We rock!"

"What happened?" Ivy asked.

"We just got the ping out of a tower substation in Peachtree Corners," Pietr smiled. "The exploit just phoned home."

"It's moving," Kyle looked at his laptop. "It scraped her contacts. It's on the move. Damn, your pal has a lot of contacts."

Ivy's phone chirped.

"Cheesecake Factory has delivered." Ivy was getting into spirit of the operational lingo. "Cheesecake Factory is a go."

Kyle and Pietr looked at Ivy.

"What?" shrugged Ivy. "I can talk cool too."

Kyle and Pietr looked at Ivy.

"Oh whatever," Ivy huffed.

Pietr asked Ivy to ask Poke to watch Tad's video now. Ivy texted.

Ivy clapped. "It's gone! Poke can't find it!" Hope soared in her heart.

Ivy's phone chirped again.

"The cheesecake is gone too!" Ivy shouted.

"Perfect," Kyle smiled. "I just got confirmation. Whoopsie, we've already got one more from Paulette's contact scrape. Three now. It's on the march."

"Give me Tad's number," Pietr said. "And this female acquaintance of his, if you have it. We can start a hard cascade now."

Tad and Hina Ravani wasted no time forwarding Ivy's cheesecake picture to dozens of friends. Within a half hour one hundred and thirty more people had seen Ivy's glamourous semi-nude pose, and sixty-six of those had the video either on their phone or a PC hard drive or both. Every instance of Ivy's nasty video chat with Tad disappeared back into the electricity from whence it came.

Kyle and Pietr could not be more pleased. Every few minutes Kyle's reporting tool confirmed another success.

"The downside is that a lot more people are seeing your cheesecake than actually saw your video," Pietr said.

"Eff that," Ivy shrugged. "I look fabulous. I should have no problem getting dates now."

"Like you ever did before," Pietr said absently.

Ivy blinked. Something inside her brain finally snapped. She slowly turned and looked at Pietr. He was wearing his dad glasses and concentrating on code.

Ivy felt like a house fell on her head. She made herself breathe.

"You really do like me," she said to Pietr. "Don't you?"

"If you say so, Captain Understatement," Pietr muttered, adjusting something on his computer monitor with trill of keys.

Ivy stood up. "Kyle, can we have the room please?"

Both boys stopped what they were doing and looked at Ivy.

"What? Why?" Kyle asked.

"For the love!" Ivy shouted. "Kyle. Get out."

"It's my room!"

Ivy slumped. "Dammit Kyle."

"What's up?" Pietr asked Ivy.

"Oh hang on," Kyle huffed. "I have to piss anyway." He walked into the hall and pulled the door closed behind him.

"Spill," Pietr looked at Ivy.

"Stand up," Ivy insisted. "Pietr took off his glasses and stood to face Ivy,

"I love you," Ivy said.

"Wha?" Pietr was confused. "What are y—"

"Shut up!" Ivy snipped. "I seriously fucking love you. A lot."

Pietr blinked. "Buuut..." His thumb hitchhiked in the direction of the hall bathroom.

"He isn't half the man you are," Ivy drilled her gaze into Pietr's eyes, trying to press in the importance of her words. "You're perfect."

"I appreciate that you appreciate what we did for you today," Pietr said softly.

"No!" Ivy stamped her foot. "Don't do that. Don't dismiss me. That's not what this is about. If none of it had worked, if your code was a total failure, you still tried. You fought for me. You've done more for many than any male on the is planet has ever done for me, and — sadly — that probably includes my pathetic, sorry-ass excuse for a father wherever he is or whomever he is fucking right now."

"Whoever," Pietr corrected.

Ivy stomped the top of Pietr's foot.

"Yowch!" Pietr barked.

"I'm not a little store," Ivy snipped. "Don't patronize me."

"Fuck that hurts!"

"Pietr Kisselhoff, you are an amazing man, a great lay, a terrific friend, and I adore you. I absolutely adore you."

"Yeah I adore you too," Pietr grimaced, "more so when you aren't shattering my Cuneiform bone."

"I know I've been an idiot. A complete idiot. I don't have any excuse. I'm sorry I... I... Whatever you want to call my extended brain fart since that first few minutes minutes I was standing on the front lawn. However you want to describe how clueless I was when you were opening your magnificent heart to me all those times."

"A dingbat blonde?" Pietr offered.

Ivy stomped the top of Pietr's foot again.

"Shit!" Pietr yowled.

"How much does that foot weigh, big guy? 'Bout one-thirty? One-forty?" Ivy stomped Pietr's other foot. "C'mon. You're good with weight. How much on your bar? Huh?"

"Knock it off," Pietr whined. "That hurts."

"Forgive me," Ivy demanded. "Not for stepping on your foot. You're an asshole and you had that coming. Forgive me for being a dumbass."

"I forgive you," Pietr shouted. "Just stop hurting me."

"No seriously," Ivy poked Pietr in the chest, "forgive me. Forgive me for being an oblivious, stupid little girl who couldn't see that she had everything right in front of her for the past two weeks and still couldn't put two and two together."

Pietr blinked. He swallowed. "I forgive you. Really. It's okay."

"Pietr do you really love me like you've been saying? Really and truly? Not a game? Do you care about me as much as you act like you care about me?"

Pietr froze. There was an interminable pause. Ivy's stomach sank.

Pietr nodded.

"I seriously couldn't handle this if I was being stupid, but only with you this time," Ivy pointed at her own chest. "I'm humiliated and broken and raw." Ivy's voice hitched, surprising herself with the emotion that bubbled up her throat. "If I was to believe another line of boy bullshit that wasn't true again. I'd jump in front of a fucking car."

"That's not necessary, Drama," Pietr whispered. "I think you're amazing."

"Okay then," Ivy nodded, "I want you to collar me."

"What?"

"Wait! I said that wrong. Pietr will you please take my collar. No wait!" Ivy knelt on the floor in front of Pietr. She took a deep breath and looked at the floor submissively, "Master, will you please, please, please, take my collar?"

"Uh wow. Hang on," Pietr said. "There's more to it than that. I can't accept your collar if I don't know how we'd do this."

"What do you mean?" Ivy looked up.

"I mean... We need to talk this out. We need to express our expectations. We need to talk about rules, about what we want from the other." Pietr hooked a hand in Ivy's armpit and pulled her to standing.

"What do you want from me?" Ivy asked. "Name it."

"I don't know!" Pietr shouted. "I... Uh... Ponytail. I want you to sometimes wear a ponytail. I like ponytails on a girl. You'd look great in a ponytail and I've never seen you in a ponytail."

"Done!" Ivy said.

"And a baseball cap. I don't even care what team it is, but a pretty girl in a baseball cap with a ponytail sticking through the back above the clasp... That's about the sexiest thing in the world. That is what I want."

"No problem," Ivy said.

"And I'm probably going to go to dances and homecoming and prom with other girls. I don't want to miss out on that stuff because my girlfriend lives in Georgia."

Ivy chewed on this. That was a lot harder to swallow than Pietr's penchant for ponytails. "Okay," Ivy said. "I get that. I understand. I agree."

"And I promise to get up to Atlanta at least once every three months," Pietr said, "if you agree not to have any other Atlanta boyfriends."

Ivy grinned from ear-to-ear. "I'd love that. No problem."

"But I expect you to go to dances too. With guys. Just not... You know. I don't want..."

"Got it," Ivy nodded. "I understand. For me it'll be an 'ance.' A dance without 'The D.' I have no problem with that."

"Uh, that's all I can think of," Pietr said. "At the moment. I reserve the right to renegotiate other stuff later."

"Awesome," Ivy nodded.

"What do you want of me?" Pietr asked.

"I want to be spanked."

Pietr shrugged. "Fine."

"The ritual kind of spanking. Where I lay over your lap for a while before you actually smack my ass. And talk shit and stuff."

"Fine."

"And you don't actually spank my ass so hard that it hurts me," Ivy said.

Pietr shook his head negative. "Nope. Doesn't work that way. When you ride the bull, you ride it all the way. You don't get to dictate terms."

Ivy sighed. "Okay. I get it."

"Anything else?"

"I want you to write me a song," Ivy said.

Pietr's eyes rolled up and to the left. "Er.. Shhhuuuuure."

"A good song."

"I can do that." Pietr seemed to answered a question he had asked himself.

"I know. And I want you to sing it to me on my birthday, even if it's over the phone. My birthday is--"

"October 17th," Pietr said. "Last year you and Poke and your friends did a photo treasure hunt at the Mall."

"Oh. Yeah. Nicely done, Stalker."

Pietr shrugged. "Anything else?"

"Noth-- Uh..." Ivy's brain tripped.

"What?"

Ivy struggled to form words. "I... I... I want to be able to fuck my mom's boyfriend."

Pietr doubled-over as if he had been punched in the stomach. He teetered and dropped back into his desk chair. "Ivy?" he asked quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

Ivy shook her head. "No. Nothing has ever happened. Well... Nothing but sexual tension. His, not mine. But I want to figure out how to get this guy and my mom back together. Being as he's fucking Sadie, I'm pretty sure that would mean that I would... You know... I'd have to..."

"Replace Sadie. Get over on Sadie."

"Yeah."

"If you're my collar you can't go to war with any of Kyle's collars. That won't work."

Ivy wrinkled her nose, considering this. "I wasn't thinking about it in terms of war. I was kind of picturing a bloodless coup."

"Is that really what you want to do? Fuck your mom's boyfriend?"

Ivy bit her lip. "It's something that needs to be done. And it won't kill me. And as weird and creepy as it sounds, there's a something there that only makes sense to me. But it makes sense."

"I can't believe you just asked me that," Pietr said.

"I can't get us started with a lie or deception," Ivy said. "I'm never going to lie to you, Master. Never. I don't have to fuck Gary, if you won't let me."

"But the challenge of stealing this guy away from Sadie and Aunt Jennifer is a big attraction."

Ivy shrugged. "You know the answer to that."

Pietr made a grim face. "Promise me that you'll stay safe and let me know if you ever think anything is out of hand. Promise you'll tell me if you don't ever feel safe with this guy."

"I promise."

Pietr sighed. "Okay." He smiled at Ivy.

"So you'll take my collar?"

"I don't have a collar for you," Pietr said.

"What?"

"How was I supposed to know I'd be collaring a girl today?"

"Oh come on! You don't have an extra collar around here?"

"They're custom made by a leather artisan. We don't buy them in bulk," Pietr said.

"Oh," Ivy snipped, "with Kyle I thought maybe--"

"Yeah, yeah," Pietr smiled. "Touché. Point taken."

"Hang on," Ivy stuck her head out the bedroom door. "Misery! Misery come here!"

A moment later the dog padded into the room. Ivy unbuckled the dog's collar, much to Misery's confused expression. She handed the collar to Pietr and kneeled before him again. She looked down at the floor submissively.

"Master, will you please take my collar?"

Pietr cleared his throat. "Ivy-bitch," he said confidently, "do you swear to give yourself to me in totality, to never tell me no, and to always respect me as your Master and your man?"

"I do, Master," Ivy said. Her voice quivered with emotion.

"Ivy-bitch, I claim you as my own," Pietr leaned down and began buckling Misery's collar around Ivy's neck. "I will keep you until my last breath, maintain you with my last dollar, and love you until the final beat of my heart."

Pietr took a step back. Misery's collar was several inches too big for Ivy's tiny neck.

Ivy looked down at the buckle on her chest. "I guess this is why you get them custom made, huh?"

Misery woofed.

Kyle walked in the room and then backed up like someone had swung a cat at his head. "Whoa! What is this?" Kyle surveyed the room, figuring out the clues. "Oh wow. Uh, Mozeltov, you two?" Kyle kept blinking in disbelief. "Really?" He asked Ivy, "because I thought you and I..." Kyle made a back-and-forth motion with the fingers of his right hand. "No? Okay. I guess I misread that, huh? Okay. Okay." Kyle nodded, but it was a begrudging nod.

Kyle obviously wasn't used to not getting the girl. Ivy and Pietr just looked at him.

"Huhn." Kyle put his hands on his hips.

"I'm sorry to rush this Ivy," Pietr said, unbuttoning his jeans, but we've still got to keep our eye on the deployment in case we missed a virus protection gate. And Zooey's con will be here for his brief in a couple hours. Pietr stepped out of his pants. "Get your clothes off, baby."

Ivy undressed as quickly as she could. She kept looking at Kyle, who kept looking at her and Pietr. Mostly her.

Once Ivy was naked, Kyle started taking off his clothes,

"Master?" Ivy looked up at Pietr, then at Kyle.

"Ivy, have you covered the transitive postulate in math class?" Pietr asked. "Pre-algebra?"

Ivy shook her head negative.

"If A is equal to B," Pietr said, "and B is equal to C, then A is equal to C. That's the transitive postulate."

"Okaaay?" Ivy shrugged.

"There will never be anything between you and I," Pietr said. "I won't allow it." He waited.

Ivy nodded.

"There will never be anything between my brother and I," Pietr said. He waited.

Ivy nodded. "So the trampoline whatever means there will never be anything between Kyle and I either."

Pietr smiled. "Exactly. But you will always be mine first and foremost."

Ivy's mouth went thin and wiggled to one side of her cheek and then the other. "Soooo... By this math thing, if there's nothing between Kyle and I, then there's also nothing between me and Kyle's collars."

"Yup," smiled Kyle.

"Which includes Sadie," Ivy grumbled.

The brothers looked at each other. Pietr spoke, "Yes. That's true. But the geography of things might buy you a little time until you're more prepared for girl-girling with Kyle's collars."

Ivy shook her head. "No, I'm perfectly ready for Raquel or Yuni," Ivy said. "Just..."

"Well you're collared now," Pietr said. "So if-and-when with Sadie isn't really up to you anyway. Consider it the cost of being collared to me."

Ivy sighed. "Okay," she said. She knew in her heart that if-and-when was likely to be measured in hours, especially since a couple of days had been added to the mom cruise.

Pietr picked up his thick, half-flaccid cock and gently tapped it on Ivy's cheek. Kyle was already quite hard, but he stepped in and smacked the front of his stiff cock on Ivy's other cheek.

Ivy waited for a boy to point a cock head at her mouth. Pietr finally did and Ivy sucked and moaned like a whore. Kyle pulled her hand to his meat and she stroked it and squeezed it while she slurped away on Pietr's hardening chub. Ivy looked up. Both beautiful boys swayed above her, looking down at her with sex-hungry eyes. Contentment filled her chest as fully as Pietr's giant dick filled her wet jaw.

Without prompt, Ivy switched to sucking Kyle and stroking Pietr.

"Good girl," Pietr smiled. "Suck Kyle's cock, pretty bitch."

Ivy moaned deeper and harder. Kyle pressed the back of Ivy's head and thrust until she gagged on his cock. He backed off for a moment and then thrust harder and fucked her throat even longer, turning her gag reflex into a panic reflex. Kyle let her head go right before she freaked out. She huffed air in recovery and her spittle sprayed her own chin and tits.

"Hey," Pietr said crossly. Ivy though he was going to yell at Kyle. "You can't take Kyle deeper than you take me!" Pietr then took Ivy's head and fucked her little throat harder than he ever had before. Ivy was gagging in no time. She concentrated on not missing any strokes on Kyle's hard cock while Pietr raped her face. Pietr also knew just when to let go.

As Pietr backed out of Ivy's cocksucking mouth, spittle bridges connected the sheen on Pietr's twitching cock to Ivy's tonsils as she sucked air.

Then Kyle was fucking her throat.

Ivy's ego shifted into a new gear, responding to the dominance of the brothers. They were using her and it wasn't a chore. It sparked a contentment.

"She's doing it again. She shouldn't be sucking more of your cock than mine," Pietr said somberly. "I'm afraid that I'm going to have to spank this bitch, brother."

"Okay," Kyle shrugged.

"And when I'm done, I think you should spank her too."

"What's with that?" Kyle asked.

Pietr said something in Russian.

"Oooooh!" Kyle answered. "Yeah, this little bitch definitely needs to learn how to take a spanking."

Ivy's pulse raced. Pietr took his place on his desk chair that had no arms. "Over my lap, bitch. C'mon."

Ivy crawled over Pietr's big warm lap. His cock stabbed her stomach.

Pietr rubbed the globes of Ivy's ass. "You serve me, bitch," Pietr growled. "You always suck me best. Do you understand?"

"Yes Master," Ivy whispered.

"When you embarrass me in front of Kyle, you're going to hear about it. Do you understand?" Pietr squeezed and pinched at Ivy's buns, warming them with alternating friction-filled rubs of his giant hands.

"I'm sorry, Master," Ivy whispered. She felt her horny pussy dripping onto Pietr's thighs. "It won't happen again."

"I hope not," Pietr growled.

The spanking was not light -- not by any stretch of the imagination — but it wasn't brutal. After Pietr was done, his hands cupped under and pinched at Ivy's sex-swollen breasts.

Pietr stood out of the chair and fucked Ivy's throat. She strained to fit a millimeter more of the hard pressure deeper than she had before.

"What is this bullshit," Kyle exclaimed. "Are you giving Pietr more suck than you gave me, bitch?" He asked.

"No sir," Ivy said.

"You certainly are," Kyle said. "I can clearly see you're sucking Pietr deeper than you suck me. Get over here, girl." Kyle sat in the spanking chair. Ivy went across his lap. Kyle's cock was pressed back into his stomach by Ivy's hip. She could feel it pulsing. "Hmmm, this tail is quite red," Kyle mused. He rubbed at the chaffed heat of Ivy's bottom. She looked at Kyle giving her his dominant glare. She looked the other way to see Pietr standing with his hands on his hips like Superman. Her pussy went absolutely ballistic. "Your Master did quite a job on this bitch ass. Very impressive," Kyle said, "but it can be much redder, I'm sure, because you still have lessons to learn."

"OH GOD!" Ivy cried out as Kyle's spankings started. Her ass sizzled with unbearable heat. Kyle wasn't breaking her, but she was already rosy and hot when his first smack rang out, sending Ivy squirming for instinctive relief. Fortunately, Kyle stopped at ten swats, but that was four swats more than Ivy's limbic brain could handle. She tried to swim. Pietr stepped around and locked Ivy's ankles in his big mitts. She wasn't going anywhere. Ivy cried and flailed.

Then Kyle's hands were mapping her burring butt cheeks, dipping in to tease her wet fuckhole. "She's a slutty one," Kyle said. "You're going to have your work cut out for you keeping an eye on this one, brother."

"Indeed," Pietr growled. "Ivy-bitch will be on a very short leash."

Kyle stood up and handed Ivy to Pietr like a newspaper. Effortless.

Pietr sat back down in the spanking chair and Ivy immediately assumed she was in for another round of swats. But Pietr lifted her into reverse cowgirl, facing away from him. He lowered Ivy's folded legs around his thighs and let gravity pull her down on his big tool. Ivy's hungry pussy swallowed it easily, but dull pain still barked at the stretching his cock put on her.

Ivy moaned and her head swiveled on her neck.

One of Pietr's hands landed sharply on her burned ass and she jumped and squealed. "Move it, bitch," Pietr growled. "Move that ass. Fuck me."

As if Ivy wasn't crazy enough, Pietr growling at her and smacking her ass shifted her into an even higher slut gear. She squeezed her knees against the outside of Pietr's thighs to lift herself and circle her bottom on his impalement. His hands wrapped around her hips and took control of her, lifting her and dropping her down over and over. Ivy's pussy began to relent and she dropped all the way down to Pietr's balls. Pietr's cock was way too deep for his cockhead to rub at her slut spot. This prompted Ivy to try and bounce herself higher before Pietr crashed her back down on his cock. She was almost there.

Kyle grabbed a handful of Ivy's hair and pulled her forward until her tiny hands were resting on each of Pietr's knees. He stepped in with his twitching cock and Ivy sucked it, moaning deep and hissing air through her nostrils. Her mouth watered at the warm hardness. It fit her cocksucking mouth so perfectly. She moaned and "mmmm"ed and slurped. Kyle's cock pulsed and ticked on her tongue. His hands owned her head, but he didn't fuck her mouth too deep. His fingers combed through her hair and his fingertips felt good on her scalp.

Both boys were groaning encouragement and barking their dominance at her.

"Suck Kyle's cock, bitch."

"Oh yeah, move that ass. Fuck Pietr with that tiny pussy, girl!"

If Ivy could just get Pietr's cock angled a bit better, or stay a little higher on his shaft for just a minute, she was going to explode. The skin on her thighs and shoulders was already making ripple waves. Her leg muscles were stiffening.

Kyle's cock was rock hard and throbbing in short, regular bursts. Ivy opened her eyes long enough to see Kyle's balls high and tight. Kyle's nuts didn't disappear into the sides of his cock before he came, the way Pietr's did. But he was definitely ready to fill Ivy's mouth, and she was ready to swallow his salty gush and serve him to the last swallow of the last dribble-drop of his milky mansplash.

She was so close.

When Kyle stepped back out of her mouth and Pietr stopped thrusting, Ivy screamed in frustration. "Guuuhhhnnn!!! Don't stop! C'mon! Fuck me!"

"Oh we're going to fuck you," Pietr growled. He lifted Ivy off his cock and spun her around to face him. He sucked her hypersensitive nipples and positioned his cock in her split with one hand while the other squeezed her recovering ass cheek. He leaned back and Ivy dropped. She couldn't drop as far down when she was facing Pietr and his cockhead was much closer to her G-spot now.

"Ew gahd," Ivy purred. "That's amazing." Without prompting she began to roll her ass, grinding a really nice fuck onto Pietr's monster. Again, with her knees fighting Pietr's big thighs, she didn't bottom out this time and Pietr's short upward fuckstroke quickly began to unwind her.

Kyle's hands locked around her hips. She felt his warmth on her back. Pietr leaned back in the chair. Ivy placed her hands against his angled chest. Kyle rubbed her thighs and ass. Ivy's pussy hummed.

Ivy froze. There it was. The pressure. Kyle's dick. On her butthole.

"Uh..." Ivy said in alarm.

"Relax, girl," Kyle warned. "It's going to happen."

"Master?" Ivy asked in a panic.

Pietr looked at her calmly. "I wouldn't expect you to do something you couldn't do. You can do this."

"But..."

Kyle did not break Ivy's ass, but the push of his incoming cock was firm and insistent.

"No! No!" Ivy begged.

"Don't use that word," Pietr warned.

"But Master," Ivy begged, "Please Mas— Mass— Massss—- OH FUCK HELL!" Ivy collapsed from the pain overload.

Kyle held steady, not moving, but one third inside her. Ivy' s fingernails reflexively dug into Pietr's chest hair.

"You got this," Pietr nodded at Ivy.

Ivy nodded back through clenched teeth, but she wasn't sure.

"You got this, baby," Pietr repeated. The confidence of his voice convinced Ivy that she wasn't going to will the pain away. She had to get to the other side of it.

Kyle started a slow motion, slow stroking half a thrust at a time.

Ivy yipped. But she wasn't going anywhere. Both boys had her locked in place with their strong hands.

Kyle made small thrusts again. Every millimeter of motion tested Ivy's stretched pink rosebud. If Pietr wasn't filling her pussy, she thought she might actually be able to accomodate Kyle. Pietr slowly rubbed her breasts. Ivy relaxed just a bit. Pietr's cock — and it wasn't easy to tell whose cock was whose when they were melding together inside her — moved a little. Then Kyle's. Then Pietr's. Kyle took a bigger stroke and Ivy yipped. But it was definitely getting a little better. It wasn't a ripping sensation anymore. It was just hard movement where hard things shouldn't be. Ivy's moans were a trill of tightly-wrapped sex whimpers, pleading and stressed. Her eyes locked with Pietr's smoky stare. Pietr's expression was calm contentment. And why wouldn't it be? He didn't have two big dicks breaking his bottom in half.

Pietr and Kyle fell into a rhythm with their one-two-fucking of her pussy and ass. Somehow it made sense to some part of Ivy's insides and she began to respond by getting wetter on Pietr. Kyle spit on the spot where his cock was stretching Ivy's asshole and a moment later her ass felt a little better for the lubrication.

"Oh Christ," Ivy whispered as the rumble started in her cervix. "Oh fuck oh Christ. I'm gonna cum. Oh Master. I'm gonna cum. Don't stop. Please Master don't stop."

"What about me, bitch," Kyle growled.

"Please don't stop either, Kyle. Sir. Oh Christ. Oh fuck. I'm so close. Fuck me. Both of you. Fuck me like a bitch. Ew. Ewwww. That's it. Fuck me. Fuck my ass.. Oh shit. I can't take it. I can't—- I can't—-"

The boys' fuck rhythm changed and they were both thrusting and pulling back at the same time. Pietr's cock had a maximum stretch on Ivy's pussy to start, but Kyle's assfucking pushed Pietr's cock even harder against Ivy's G-spot.

Ivy whitescreamed as it all boiled up and through her. Her mouth gaped and flapped, but nothing escaped her but a hiss of geyser pleasure. She felt like a tingling rope tied with pleasure knots was being pulled up through her body and out her mouth like a never-ending magician's scarf. But there was an end to the knotted metaphorical rope and it had an anchor on it that caught on Ivy's brain and her physical body jerked with the snap of the orgasm wracking her entire being. She would have screamed if she could, but it was all still squelched in the overload of pussy pleasure exploding into satisfying combustion.

In a distant echo she heard Kyle cumming in her ass. He was saying nasty things and groaning. She couldn't feel his cum spraying because her ass was already so hot with the friction of his butt fucking. Kyle stopped thrusting and Ivy was sure he came. Then he was backing out of her ass and she felt every millimeter of that, too. The slow extraction was more intense than it had been breaking it's way inside her butt.

That left Pietr and he was super close. His face told the story. His neck and chest were flushed and he was really fucking Ivy hard.

"Oh man," Pietr groaned.

Ivy felt the hotness of his cum splash into her depths. She leaned forward and kissed Pietr's gasping mouth, the pressure of his exhale communicating his gratitude for Ivy's worthy service.

Ivy tried to catch her breath.

"You've been DeePeed," Kyle said. "You're definitely going to give my girls a run for their money. That's for sure. That was fucking hot, the way you took that cock in your ass and kept humping Pee."

"I might need an ice pack," Ivy panted.

"You might need a towel," Kyle answered. "I put a ton of cum in your ass and it's not going to stay there."

"Good point," Pietr said. "Kay, grab a shirt or something out of my hamp—"

Kyle winged one of Pietr's sweaty workout shirts at Ivy and it whacked her unceremoniously across the eyes. "Whoops. Sorry."

"That was sexy," Ivy grumbled, repositioning the shirt under her ass and pussy as she carefully lifted off of Pietr's slackening dick. "I can't believe we got through that without Sadie horning in."

"Yeah," Kyle was already pulling on his pants. "That kind of surprised me, too. She's quiet."

"She's pouting," Pietr said.

"I better check on her," Kyle left the room, pulling his shirt back on.

Ivy wasn't in a hurry to get dressed. She kissed Pietr and kissed him some more. Unlike his brother, Pietr wasn't in a hurry to move on to the next chore after sex. He kissed Ivy passionately and pulled her to his massive chest to hold her. Ivy never wanted that hug to end. The warm-on-warm of their skin-on-skin was amazing and

"Bro," Kyle stuck his head back in the room. "I can't find Sadie."

PIetr sighed. "Hang on." He stood up and placed Ivy standing on the floor. He opened Kyle's desk drawer and extracted his phone. He swiped on it and checked his Friend Finder app. "She's on the lanai, it looks like."

Kyle nodded and left again.

Pietr scooped Ivy up in his arms effortlessly and cradled her like a baby while he kissed her again and again.

"PEE!" Kyle shouted, thumping up the stairs two at a time.

Pietr exhaled. "What now?"

Kyle held up Sadie's phone. "Her phone was there, but she's not. She's not in the house."

"You sure?"

"It's twenty four hundred square feet, dude. It's not the Biltmore."

Pietr sighed again. "Sorry baby," he said. "I gotta get dressed anyway. She does this."

"I understand," Ivy said. She smiled, trying not to show her irritation at Sadie's ability to fuck up a good time just by not being there. Where fucking things up were concerned, Ivy could teach an AP college credit class in being a pain in the ass.

Speaking of which... Ivy ran for the bathroom to unceremoniously take leave of the brothers' sloppy deposits.

After glurping what felt like gallons of Pietr's spunk into the toilet, Ivy was eternally grateful for the Norplant in her arm and the worrywort mother who made it happen.

A knock on the door. Pietr's voice. "You okay in there?"

"Fine."

"Your butt okay?"

"Mostly."

"No blood?"

"No."

"Good. Uh, hey listen up. Kay and I are going looking for Sadie. At the pool."

Ivy shuddered. Literally shuddered when Pietr said "at the pool." She knew what that meant.

"If for some reason we aren't home in a half hour," Pietr continued, "Some reason like we get arrested, Zooey has got almost everything she needs for her guy except the plane tickets. Those are attached to the side of the fridge with the Epcot magnet. She pretty much knows how the con works. Give him the addresses you gave us. Make sure it goes forward. It's important."

Ivy clenched. "Be careful."

"I will."

"Be careful," Ivy repeated, this time loud and almost crying.

There was a long pause. Ivy could sense his mass leaning against the door. "I'll try."

The brothers were back in twenty minutes without Sadie. Kyle started digging through Sadie's luggage.

"She may have just left her stuff and caught a plane home," Pietr said.

"Without her phone? Or this?" Kyle held up Sadie's passport.

"Well she took her purse?" Pietr said.

"That means exactly nothing," Kyle said.

"FUCK!" Pietr shouted and walked in a circle. "She's fucking with us. She'll be back before dark."

"She's got a bunch of credit cards," Kyle mumbled. "If she's fucking with us, she can fuck with us for a long time."

"Would somebody really sell a fifteen year old girl a hotel room?" Pietr asked.

"She's a natural grifter," Kyle said. "She can get whatever she wants."

"You're right," Pietr said. "If Aunt Jenny calls before we find her, we're fucked."

"Pretty much," Kyle nodded.

Ivy knew it was time to mention what had Sadie had said about having Dominic's phone number. But surely Sadie wasn't that crazy. And Ivy would have to explain the part about having Dominic's phone number on her hand. She didn't want to screw up her relationship with Pietr only hours after it began. Frickin' Sadie! That bitch was screwing everything up, including her last few days of unsupervised time with her new Master. Not to mention Operation Ivy.

The doorbell rang.

"That's Zoe and Company," Kyle said.

The briefing went well. Most of it happened behind a closed door, ostensibly to protect Ivy from knowing things that weren't exactly legal.

Clayton waved and smiled at Ivy as Zooey pushed him back out the door. He waved like a little kid waving at someone in a Donald Duck costume. Kyle smirked. As soon as Clayton was out the door, Kyle started in imitating Clayton's muppet voice.

"Well, that was spiffy!" Kyle imitated.

Ivy had to laugh. Pietr smiled.

"He's actually perfect for the assignment," Pietr said. "I'm pretty sure he won't back out. Especially with Zooey promising him a bonus."

"She gave him the booty," Kyle said.

"How do you know that?" Pietr asked.

"Ivy told me.

"How does Ivy know that?" Pietr asked.

Ivy panicked. Kyle snitched her out. She promised not to lie to Pietr. This was not something she planned to share.

"Girl talk, I guess," Kyle said. He realized he had spilled some beans.

"Ivy," Pietr asked, "you didn't go into Clayton's house with Zooey, did you?"

Ivy's mouth opened. She struggled for words. She couldn't lie, but she didn't want to tell the truth. "All questions are valid," she said. "Not all answers enlighten."

Kyle laughed uproariously. Pietr's mouth twisted into the shape of a dried apricot.

"Let's have a talk tonight," Pietr said calmly.

Ivy nodded.

"We're headed back out," Kyle said. "Going to check a couple places that Sadie might be and try to interview some Uber drivers."

"Keep your phone on and close by," Pietr said. "And of course, if Sadie shows up, text us. Even if she tells you not to. Text us."

"Of course," Ivy said.

Sadie did not return.

The boys returned after midnight and Ivy was deeply worried for the first time. When Ivy heard the truck in the driveway she ran to the front door and onto the porch. As soon as she saw the boys were alone, Ivy's blood ran cold.

The brothers looked grim.

"Let's hit it," Pietr whispered to Ivy. "I need to check our virus propagations and get ready for tomorrow. Zoe says Clayton's flight got in fine and he's in the hotel."

"What else is going on tomorrow besides Clayton?"

Pietr looked especially grim. "I've got football practice in the morning. That should be one for the ages." Pietr let out a deep sigh. "Then Clayton. Then if Sadie isn't back, we'll go looking for her again. Kyle will be driving around all day too. Uber has no record of pickup and neither do any of the cab services. Wherever she went, she walked."

Ivy thought about how fabulous it would be to crawl between the sheets with her Master and kiss and cuddle. Maybe he'd need another blowjob. She'd be happy to give it to him. Fuck Sadie and her bad decisions. It was Ivy's time to bond with her guy. But...

"I'm not so sure about that," Ivy said. She began to cry.

Pietr looked at Ivy. "Baby?"

She had not finished telling the truth about Dominic's phone number when Pietr's phone interrupted. He pulled it from his pocket and looked down. Ivy saw the name.

Aunt Jenny

Pietr's thumb hesitated. Then tapped to answer. He didn't have to put the phone on speaker to hear the anxious screaming.

Pietr lifted the phone to his ear, as close as he could get with the blast of female screeching pouring out of it.. "Yeah. Okay. Okay. Yes. Where? Okay. When? Do you have a room number? We're on our way. Yes. We'll call you in an hour. Okay. Calm down. Okay."

Pietr hung up. He looked at Ivy and blinked. "Two things," he said softly, barely more than a whisper. "One, you should have told me that right away. Two, you are not responsible for what happened to Sadie, so don't think that for a minute. If you'd told me four hours ago, nothing would have changed. But you should have told me, Ivy."

"I'm so sorry, Pietr. Where is she?" Ivy trembled.

"Where they all end up, all of Dominic Mallory's projects. Get dressed. We're headed to the hospital."

CHAPTER NINETEEN: IMMORAL TALES

Ivy and the boys had no problem getting Sadie's room number from the ER clerk, but they could not get past the security door on the wing on the fifth floor where her room was located. The kids weren't direct family and they weren't 21.

A cop in uniform and another man in a suit with his badge around his neck walked out through the security doors.

"Officer. Detective," Kyle approached them. "We aren't Mercedes's family, but we're as close as she has to it in Florida. For the moment. Can you please get us into her room to check on her?"

"You Peter?" the detective asked.

"Kyle Kisselhoff, sir. Pietr is my brother there."

"Jesus, he's a big one," the Detective smiled. "How old are you son? ‘Bout 22?"

Pietr shrugged. "I'd never lie to law enforcement, sir. I have too much respect for what you do. But if that's the right answer..."

The uniform cop softened a little. "We can't break hospital rules," he said, scratching his chin, "but Ms. Bradwell said you'd be lurking out here. Apparently her mother is..." The cop stalled out, fishing.

"Jennifer Bradwell is on a Carnival cruise to Havana. She'd be arriving tomorrow, but the ship was diverted for Hurricane Keith." Pietr said.

The cop nodded, satisfied. "Yeah, that's the answer."

"She's going to be fine," the Detective said. "But she looks pretty bad. Let me step back in and make sure it's okay with her that you go in. Just you, big guy. Big 21 year old guy. You know how girls are about their looks."

"Thank you so much, Sir," Pietr nodded.

The detective went back through the security doors.

"Did she say what happened," Ivy asked the uniform cop.

"He can't answer," Kyle said. "It's under active investigation."

The uniform cop nodded at Kyle. "Smart kid."

The detective waved Pietr back through the door. A few minutes later the Detective left through the security doors with the uniform cop. Twenty minutes later, Pietr walked back out looking especially grim.

Pietr stepped to Kyle and shook his head while rolling his eyes in an "I can't even" gesture. "It's pretty bad," Pietr mumbled. "JenJen is going to shit bricks."

"Maybe by the time the momboat gets back to Tampa?" Kyle offered.

Pietr shook his head. "No such luck. She looks like shit twice stepped-in." Pietr showed Kyle a security card he had on a lanyard. "Give me a second and I'll piggyback you in to see her," Pietr said. "The nurses on that wing are a skeleton crew and I can sneak you through when it's clear. But another thing," Pietr wrinkled his nose. He took a deep breath. "Dingbat told the cops it was three black teens. Made up descriptions and everything. They're bringing a sketch artist in tomorrow morning."

Kyle bent over like he was going to throw up. "Ah Christ. You are fucking kidding me."

Pietr shook his head in disgust. "And none of the renderings will even look like Tyrus."

"Jesus," Kyle said. "Racist bitch. That's so wrong. That's the last straw. She's getting her collar back."

Pietr held up his palms. "Nothing rash, man. There's a protocol."

"Fuck that," Kyle said. "Fuck the shun. Fuck the escalations. She's way over her skis this time."

Pietr looked at Ivy and back at Kyle and said something in Russian.

Kyle shook his head. "No. No we don't."

"You know we do," Pietr said. Pietr looked through the window in the security doors. "Looks clear, c'mon."

Pietr returned to Ivy a few minutes later, alone. "Hey," he put his palm on Ivy's thigh. "When Kyle comes out, I want you to go in and see her for a few minutes."

"I don't want to get you in trouble if I get caught," Ivy said.

"Look," Pietr said, "I know what you think of Sadie. And for good reason. But I really want you to go see her, not to comfort her per se, but that wouldn't kill you. Do it for me. You need to see this."

"Is it really that bad?" Ivy asked. "I know rape is terrible, but how gross could it be?"

"She's pretty banged up," Pietr said. "They did a number on her face."

"Oh."

"She's going to be okay, physically. As far as mentally, it's hard to say with Sadie. She's got a leather psyche, so she might bounce back from it."

"Why did she lie to the cops?" Ivy asked.

"Because she's Sadie. Because she thinks it's about her. Because she doesn't want to fly back and forth for indictments and additional witness statements and prosecution conferences and trials. She lies and it ends. For her, anyway. Some poor brother just walking down 56 to the bus stop is going to have a cruiser roll up and ruin their day because they kind of look like Kevin Hart or Common, or whoever Sadie is imagining when she gives a police sketch artist a bogus description."

"That's awful," Ivy felt herself getting angry.

Pietr nodded. "She's awful. But she's Kyle's collar. He's gotta handle it."

Kyle walked out of the security doors. He looked like he'd seen a ghost.

Pietr stood and held out his hand to Ivy.

"You're not taking her in to see Sadie," Kyle said. "Why? She doesn't need to see that. Ivy learned her lesson at the pool. She gets it. She doesn't need to see Sadie."

"This isn't about what didn't happen," Pietr said softly. "This is about Ivy understanding what's going to happen after she leaves."

Ivy did not understand. Until she walked through Sadie's door. Sadie was way worse than Ivy was expecting. She was moving around in the bed, not like she was in traction or a cast or anything. But Sadie had two bright purple raccoon eye sockets. Her left eye was swollen closed. She had big purple and black bruise cuffs around her wrist. Sadie's lips were huge and her top lip had been split and had stitches holding it together around a big weepy scab that was about as gross as anything Ivy had ever seen.

Pietr closed the door and left Ivy and Sadie alone.

"Come to gloat?" Sadie said.

Ivy couldn't believe she was actually feeling empathy for Sadie, but Sadie looked so incredibly vulnerable and bad. Ivy shook her head and put a hand over her mouth.

"Oh no drama," Sadie croaked. "I'm going to be fine. I can be released as soon as somebody can sign me out. It looks worse than it is. Be a dear and get me some more ice chips." Sadie shook a styrofoam cup and pointed at a bucket on the "doctor desk" in the room she couldn't reach.

Ivy filled the cup with ice chips and fresh water. She handed it to Sadie.

"It's a woman's plight." Sadie's busted mouth chased the uncertain straw sticking out of the cup, carefully. She latched on and took some sips of cold water. "Fucking out-of-control asshole boys."

"You don't look that bad," Ivy lied.

"Of course I don't," Sadie said. "I'm fucking fabulous. And now that you're here," Sadie swung her legs over the edge of the hospital bed, slowly and painfully like an old woman, "you can help me pee."

Ivy supported Sadie as she wobbled to the bathroom and lifted her hospital gown. Ivy gasped at the bruises on Sadie's thighs. Sadie squatted and shouted, "FUCK SHIT CHRIST ON A BIKE!" at the trickling sound of urine hitting the water. "Those rape kit swabs left me raw."

Ivy swam in surrealness. It really brought home how close she had come to being in Sadie's hospital slippers if the brothers hadn't drove by the pool when they did. Ivy remembered that she'd been seriously considering going back to Dominic's for a makesesh when she was high.

Back in bed, Sadie made a few minutes of small talk. Ivy mentioned that Operation Ivy was a smashing success so far. Sadie changed the subject to Sadie.

A nurse walked in and was surprised to see Ivy. "Honey, I don't know how you got in here, but you didn't sign in and it's not visiting hours."

"Leaving," waved Ivy. She took a long look at Sadie before she walked out.

"Remind those two apes I need my phone ASAP," Sadie nodded at Ivy. "I'm bored as fuck without it."

"Kay," Ivy nodded.

The nurse escorted Ivy beyond the security doors and watched while they closed. Pietr and Kyle were hovering in the waiting area chairs.

"Sorry about that," Pietr said. "She snuck up on me. I had to duck out. Nothing I could do."

"No problem," Ivy smiled. Then she began to cry.

Pietr stepped in and wrapped her in comforting arms. He kissed the top of her head. "Sorry," he whispered. "I needed you to see that. When you hear about what happens next with Kyle and me, I need you to understand why. I need you to understand that it has to happen. This shit needs to end."

"You don't have to be the ones," Ivy cried. "Let somebody else take care of those assholes. You don't have to do it."

"We kind of do, apparently," Pietr whispered. "It's been going on too long and nobody else has fixed it."

Kyle was staring out a window into darkness, a somber look on his face.

Pietr checked his watch. "It's three-thirty," he announced. "The sun rises in three hours. Let's get what sleep we can and we'll be back tomorrow."

CHAPTER TWENTY: GARY

Ivy heard Pietr leave the bed for football, but couldn't manage much more consciousness than it took to kiss him goodbye.

When she heard the pounding on the front door, she assumed Kyle would answer it. When the pounding and doorbell ringing kept up and Misery started barking, Ivy rubbed her eyes, got out of bed, and threw one of Pietr's practice football jerseys over her like a nightshirt. It cut her at the shins.

Ivy shuffled to the front door past Misery's sentinel growling and looked through the peephole. Her heart stopped. Gary was standing on the front porch.

Flushed with adrenaline, Ivy shouted for Alexa to unlock the door. After the lock motor made a grinding sound, Ivy opened the door. Gary opened his mouth, but seemed genuinely shocked to see Ivy standing on the other side of the stormdoor glass.

Ivy looked at Gary.

Gary looked at Ivy.

Ivy opened the storm door.

"Hey," Gary said gruffly. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"Jennifer sent you to collect Sadie," Ivy nodded. "You probably need her luggage and stuff." Ivy opened the door for Gary to come inside. Gary's eyes swept up and down the spectacle of Ivy in a boy's football oversized football jersey. Much to Ivy's dismay, she was nipping out.

Gary stepped inside. "I'm supposed to talk to somebody named Kyle or somebody named Paul."

"Pietr's at football practice, and I have no idea where Kyle is, but I guess not here," Ivy said, looking at the driveway. "Is that your new car? Did you drive down here from New Hampshire overnight?"

"Rental," Gary said. "I caught a redeye."

"Oh, of course," Ivy said. "Let me show you where Sadie's stuff is. Can I get you a cup of coffee, Gary?"

Gary seemed unbalanced by the nice gesture. He and Ivy had last met as enemies. Now she was being sweet to him. "I'd love a cup of joe," he said. "Black."

Ivy smiled. "I know how you take your coffee, Gary. Geez."

"Yeah, I guess you do. Holy Shit! Those can't all be her bags!"

"I'll help you pack up her stuff," Ivy yawned, headed for the kitchen. "It's all over the house."

Instinct and proper upbringing was screaming at Ivy to break away and put on some proper clothes. But she didn't. On purpose. She knelt in the guest room and folded Sadie's messy piles of clothes into squares, leaning over so the deep V-collar in the jersey gaped and Gary got an eyeful of her tits. Then Ivy pretended she needed to turn away and pick up some other clothes from all-fours so Gary got a moonshot look at her round bottom. It was a controlled tease. Ivy thought Gary would be a guy and do something pervy with all that reckless hinting going on.

He didn't.

When Ivy helped Gary carry out the last of the suitcases to the trunk of a rented Ford Flex, Gary nodded and thanked Ivy for her help. He looked squirmy. He pulled the keys from his pocket. Ivy could see he was at least half hard in his pants.

"Hey Gary," Ivy said. "Before you run off, can I have a minute with you to talk? Inside?"

Gary looked Ivy for a long moment before he agreed.

Ivy sat Gary on the living room couch and wedged herself uncomfortably close to him.

"What's up?" Gary asked.

"Oh don't be so suspicious," Ivy said. "I just want to talk for a second."

"I'm listening."

"Gary, you and my mom were together for a long time."

"Four years."

"Yeah. And you were really good to my mom. And me. And I know I never really gave you a chance. I never made it easy on you. Even though I probably should have been a lot nicer, considering all you did for us and all the stuff you bought mom and me."

Gary nodded slowly. Still suspicious.

"I was kind of a brat," Ivy smiled.

"You can say that again." Gary wasn't smiling at all.

Ivy gently rubbed the thigh of Gary's jeans. He was wearing a nice Ed Hardy T-shirt that was out-of-style, but still cut his chest right. His hair was a little shorter than Ivy could remember it, really short on the sides, revealing a tiny hint of frosted grey in his temples. He looked good. He had a great jaw, and a decent build for a guy who was five-ten. Scrappy. His construction worker arms had good definition. Ivy looked Gary over and could see the man her mom and Jennifer were attracted to.

In a world filled with middle age trolls, Gary was still happening. And he had a nice intensity about him.

"I wanted to say I was sorry for being a pill," Ivy said. Her fingers rubbed higher on Gary's thigh. "You were a good guy. I know my mom misses you a lot," Ivy said.

Her fingers rubbed over the top of Gary's trapped cock and Ivy squeezed. "I miss you too," Ivy said. "And I wanted to show you that I miss you."

Ivy slid off the couch and onto her knees between Gary's legs. She locked eyes on his steely gaze of disbelief. Ivy pulled the jersey off to reveal her buff little body and bare everything.

"Can I please show you how sorry I am?" Ivy looked Gary in the eyes and raised her tiny fingers to the button on his jeans.

Gary gave the smallest of nods and Ivy unsnapped the button. She pulled at Gary's jeans and he lifted his butt off the couch to facilitate the complete removal. Ivy didn't waste time getting his underwear down to his ankles and pulling off one of Gary's boots so Gary could get his legs apart for Ivy to slide closer.

Gary's cock was flushed the crimson red color of a brick and twice as hard. His dark pubes were bushier than manscaping of the brothers, but Gary was a man and older men weren't into trimming perfection like sixteen year old boys who were constantly scoring tail kept themselves.

Ivy's mouth watered anticipating the hard hot skin she was about to slide into her jaw. But she knew this had to be more than a regular blowjob or Gary would cream her tonsils and disappear back to Jennifer and Sadie.

Ivy made her tongue long and pointy. She flashed it back and forth across the collar under Gary's cockhead in big, showy sweeps. Ivy breathed hot and coated Gary's cock in warm girlbreath. She sighed deeply and looked up at Gary's wide eyes. "You've wanted this for a long time, haven't you?" Ivy smiled.

Gary said nothing.

"Oh I know you have," Ivy said. "You wanted me to do this for a long time." And with that, Ivy slid her kisser over Gary's rock hard cock and began moaning, sucking and slurping. Every time Ivy looked up and smiled, Gary was stonefaced, but he was watching every move Ivy made. Ivy took a break to lick Gary from the base of his shaft to the burning hot hole in his cockhead, over and over. Each lick slower and harder than the last. Ivy gently sucked a testicle into her tiny mouth and Gary finally tensed. At least it was a reaction.

"Are your balls sensitive?" Ivy asked.

"Be careful," Gary said sternly.

"You don't like that?" Ivy asked.

"I didn't say I didn't like it," Gary snipped. "I said be careful."

"Yes sir," Ivy said. She returned to sucking Gary's throbbing cock, taking it deep this time and moaning even more.

"Where'd you learn to suck dick like that, girl?" Gary asked.

"Boys," Ivy said. It was simple, but it also packed a punch when Ivy didn't expound. She slurped and twisted her suck in semi-circle zig-zags up to Gary's throbbing cockhead.

"Must have been a lot of fucking boys," Gary grimaced. "You're a pretty good cocksucker. Must have been a lot more going on with that kid than you let on."

Ivy smiled wickedly, licked and sucked. Let Gary's imagination fill in whatever dirty parts it wanted to see. There was no reason to set him straight.

"You sucking grown up men, too?" Gary growled.

Ivy shook her head. "No, just you, Gary. I figure I owed it to you."

"Does your mom know you suck cock?" Gary panted.

Ivy shrugged. "I don't know," she said, pulling off her suck long enough to lick and talk dirty. "Probably not. She thinks I'm a good girl. Not a girl who sucks boys' hard cocks." Ivy swallowed Gary as deep as she could and bounced her mouth to try and get deeper. Ivy's hand pulled Gary's hand to the back of her head and encouraged him to push. He did, but not much. Barely enough to gag Ivy for a second.

Ivy sucked high and hard, knowing it was overstimulation, but getting frustrated with Gary's lack of expression at what Ivy thought was a pretty decent blowjob.

That did it. Gary's mouth went thin and he lifted his butt off the couch in response to the relentless headsuck Ivy was putting on him.

"It'd be nice to have a guy around so I didn't have to waste my time on boys," Ivy cooed. "A real man."

"You think?" Gary grunted. He was trying to act cool, but he was definitely ready to cum. His balls were high and tight.

"Do you want to cum in my mouth?" Ivy asked up at Gary. "Or did you want to cum in my pussy?"

"You're a little slut," Gary growled.

"I'm just lonely," Ivy pouted. "I miss you." A thought popped into Ivy's head. Sex is communication. What is it that Gary really wants? What does his ego need to be complete?

"I miss having a big strong Daddy-man around." Ivy licked the tip of Gary's cum hole while her tiny hand slowly stroked the length of Gary's shaft. "A girl needs a proper Daddy to look over her. Watch out for her. Take care of her."

Ivy's eyes twinkled at the "take care of her" part, laying it on thick.

Gary couldn't resist any longer. He yanked Ivy off the floor and onto her back on the couch. He shoved his hard dick into her pussy. Ivy cried out with a sincere sex mewl.

"Shit, that little pussy is tight," Gary said through clenched teeth. "Those boys you're sucking must not be fucking you proper."

"Oh Gary," Ivy gasped, as his educated fuckstroke started to do a number on her insides.

"Daddy," Gary corrected. "I like Daddy."

"Oh shit yeah, Daddy," Ivy arched her back. Somehow when she pictured this moment in her head, Gary fucked her bitch on all-fours. But he took her on her back missionary. And it was better than Ivy had expected. Gary leaned in and kissed Ivy and Ivy pushed her tongue back and started frenching Gary.

"That good, little girl?" Gary asked. "Better than boy cock?"

"So good," Ivy purred. "It would be so nice to have it again. And again. You should stop by when my mom is gone," Ivy said. "Be my Daddy and keep me away from naughty boys."

"What happened to you, little trash talker?" Gary asked.

"I grew up, Daddy. I have needs, Dad— Dad— Dhuh-hadd-deey-yee oh god I'm going to cum, Daddy. Fuck me, Daddy."

"Gyah!" Gary grunted.

Ivy only got half an orgasm when Gary pulled out and painted Ivy's tits with a thin spray of cum. He pumped his own shaft and left a trail of his essence from Ivy's tits to the top of her shaved pussy.

"That was close," Gary hissed. "Almost."

Ivy smiled. "I'm on the pill now, Daddy."

"Really?"

Ivy nodded.

"I should have came inside you," Gary jerked in the afterthoes of his orgasm.

"You should have put it in my mouth so all that cum wasn't wasted," Ivy purred. "I didn't get to taste you."

Gary's rational brain seemed to come back at him all at once. He stared toward the hall that lead to the front door. He quickly began hopping back into his clothes, almost in a panic.

"You can't tell anybody about this," Gary said.

"Why would I tell anybody about this?" Ivy asked. "What happened between my Daddy and me stays between my Daddy and me. I don't want Beth finding out any more than you want her finding out."

"I'm serious." Gary pulled his shirt over his head. "C'mon. Get dressed before somebody walks in."

"I'm serious too, Daddy." Ivy stood from the couch and used the jersey to try and mop Gary's cum off her front. The jersey had too much plastic in it and wasn't good for absorbing sperm that was separating into clear and cloudy as it cooled.

"Get dressed!" Gary shouted.

Ivy stepped in, lifted her chin, and waited for Gary to kiss her. "I'll be fine. I'm getting in the shower in a second. You go and give my best to Mercedes. Tell her that she's a lucky, lucky girl to have you for a Daddy."

Gary looked nervously at Ivy. "Kid are you fucking with me?"

Ivy smiled. "Yes and no."

"Okay," Gary mumbled. "Maybe I'll see you back in Atlanta."

"I'd like that very much, Daddy."

For the first time Gary smiled. "You are killing me with that Daddy shit, kid."

"I like the way that word sounds in my mouth," Ivy said. "Dad. Dee."

Gary shook his head. "I'm out of here. I'll call you. We'll get together."

Gary practically ran out the front door before somebody could walk in and find him standing next to a thirteen year old nude blonde girl who was glistening with drying sperm from tits to pussy.

Ivy smiled.

While Ivy was in the shower, Pietr announced himself so Ivy wouldn't startle.

"Hey baby," Ivy said. "How was football practice."

Pietr sounded bad. "I've had better."

"Did you get in trouble for missing practice yesterday?" She asked as she rinsed her hair.

"A little. It's okay. I'll work my way back."

"Okay. Kyle isn't here."

"Yeah. I know. He's doing a thing. Hey, the metrics on our virus look really good. Four hundred and twenty-two deployments. They've kind of stopped and the contact cascade has slowed down. I think we got most of the videos."

"Awesome!" Ivy stuck her head out from around the shower curtain. Pietr's eyes were dark. He looked exhausted and depressed. "Want to step in with me?" Ivy asked. "I'll make sure you have the cleanest cock in Florida!"

Pietr smiled a little. "I've got to get back to the hospital. That Gary guy you want to fuck is picking Sadie up, and I want to see her off. I just want you to know Clayton called in. He showed up at the law office where Hina Ravini's dad works. Flashed his FBI credentials and took Ehsan Ravini into a conference room and scared the living shit out of him."

"Yeah?" Ivy asked.

"Yep. Hook line and sinker. Told him that he was supposed to question or arrest Hina for child pornography, but he was on a counterfeiting case that was more important. Told him that he had to follow up with a couple more people who might still be in possession of the video, and if they rolled over on Hina as the distribution source, he'd have to come back and arrest Hina and search the Ravini household. Clayton said he just about shit his pants."

"I'd like to have seen that."

"Anyway, it worked exactly as planned, from the looks of Hina's call log. She called half of Atlanta telling them that the Feds were headed the way of anybody who still had a copy of the video, begging them to delete it. Clayton's got two more stops at the gossipy girls house that you said would freak out."

"Carolyn Schneider and Yates Miller."

"Yeah. Looks like Hina did most of the work with her panic. I'm sure her dad lit a fire under her ass, the way Clayton described the way he begged. We're just about ready to call Operation Ivy a success," Pietr said. "Props to Ivy. Clayton really does look exactly like a young G-man in his suit coat and tie."

Pietr held up his phone with a photo of Clayton dressed up and serious.

Ivy looked around the shower curtain and smiled. "That is impressive"

"Does he have a big dick?" Pietr asked petulantly.

"Nowhere near as big as yours."

"Good answer."

"It's true."

"Whatever. Also, the tropical storm hit a cold front out of Mexico. It's dissipating by the hour. Momboat is headed back to port."

"Oh no!" Ivy said. "No!"

"It had to end," Pietr said.

Ivy looked around the shower curtain. "Shit," she spat. "Well Master, will you PLEASE get in this tub and shower fuck me while we can? Please?"

Pietr smiled sadly. "Okay," he said, undressing.

Ivy was doing laundry and Pietr was fixing something in the garage when the front door rang again. Pietr lifted the garage door to answer it.

A moment later Ivy heard Gary's voice and Ivy stiffened.

"She said it was in your room," Gary said.

"I'll check," Pietr said.

Ivy heard Pietr bound up the stairs. She stepped through the kitchen to look at Gary.

Gary shrugged. "Sadie left her tablet here."

"Is she in the car outside?" Ivy asked.

Gary nodded.

Ten hours hadn't done much for Sadie's face. She was loaded in the back of the rental. Her hair was as much of a compromise as a can of Aqua Net could provide a girl who was a long way from a bath or shower.

Ivy waved. Sadie looked kind of out of it. She was on some painkillers for sure.

Sadie lowered her window and motioned Ivy to come talk.

"Why didn't you collar with Kyle?" Sadie mumbled. "What are you doing with Sad Sack Sam?"

Ivy shrugged. "I love him."

Sadie rolled her eyes. "That's a terrible reason to give your collar to a boy."

"Why's that?" Ivy asked.

"Too many strings. Too much drama. It's better just to be a properly kept fuck toy."

Ivy shrugged. "Well, I'll have to deal then. The deed is done."

"Yaknow I always secretly had a thing for Pietr," Sadie said.

"Is that so," smiled Ivy, not taking the bait.

"Well look at you, little Miss Player," Sadie nodded. "Maybe you're not the Basic Becky I thought."

Ivy smiled. "No. You were right about that. That's me. Basic White Becky."

Sadie's eyes became daggers. "You know what Pietr was supposed to be doing yesterday when he was fucking around with your stupid whore video, don't you?"

Ivy nodded. "Football practice."

Sadie laughed as best as she could with her broken mouth. "Pietr's coach arranged for a talent scout from University of Alabama to come watch a scrimmage. Mainly so the scout could see Tyrus and Pietr."

Ivy went numb. "Is Alabama a good school or something? Do they have a football program there?"

Sadie rolled her eyes in her version of an "I can't even" expression. "Oh god. You're an idiot. You don't deserve him. He gave up the biggest opportunity of his future to play White Knight for you, and you're too stupid to even fathom what he sacrificed for you. Kyle said he's benched for the season now. The coach is furious."

"Really?" Ivy blinked. "That can't be true. You're lying."

The door between the garage and house opened and Pietr and Gary spilled out. They faced off and shook hands. Ivy wondered if they had been talking. Pietr smiled politely. Gary nodded at Ivy and fell into the car. Seconds later it was gone down the street.

Ivy stood next to Pietr in the driveway and watched them go.

"Did you pass up a chance at a football scholarship for me?" Ivy whispered.

Pietr looked surprised. "Man, she's got a big yapper," he groaned.

"Is it true?" Ivy asked.

Pietr smiled. "There are ten thousand scholarships out there for ten thousand colleges. But there's only one you, girl. I didn't lose anything. I won everything."

Ivy wasn't sure where the tears came from, but the hug came from Pietr, and it was an awesome hug.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: REBUKE

Kyle and Pietr stood next to Kelly Dawn and kept waving to Ivy, who was turned around in the passenger seat, waving and looking like she was going to cry at any moment. Then the car made a left on Pineshire and Ivy was gone.

Kelly Dawn stopped smiling and turned on the brothers. "I cannot believe you two were so goddamn irresponsible!" Kelly Dawn shook an angry finger. "All you were supposed to do was keep an eye on your guests! And you couldn't even do that!"

"Mom," Kyle pleaded. "You don't know—"

"Shut up!" Kelly Dawn cut him off with a finger almost poked into Kyle's eye. He flinched backwards. "I told my girlfriends that you two were responsible young men and you embarrassed me! Both of you! Do you know how humiliating that was? To be trapped at sea with Jennifer bending my ear nonstop about how her daughter was RAPED because my boys had their heads up their asses? You two are on my shit list SO HIGH!" Kelly Dawn was showing anger teeth.

The boys couldn't remember ever having seen their mother livid like this.

"I'm sorry, Mom," Pietr hung his head.

"I thought I knew you two," Kelly Dawn shook her head. "I thought you were decent, responsible young men. I guess I was wrong." Kelly Dawn stomped into the house.

Pietr and Kyle looked at their shoes and the street for a long time. Neither spoke.

"So," Pietr exhaled, "where do we start?"

Kyle pulled a stick of chewing gum from his pocket and pushed it out of the wrapper into his jaw. "Dunno. I always thought Diego was the most pathetic of the toadies. Always something particularly douchebaggy about that douchebag."

Pietr accepted a stick of gum from Kyle. "So it is writ," Pietr said, "so it shall be done."

Kyle looked at the Western sky, the early sunset spectrum melange of blues becoming pinks becoming indigo. "Ya think you can get into a JuCo with a criminal record?"

Pietr put his hand on his brother's shoulder and turned to walk up the driveway. "I guess we're going to find out."

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: I-75 REDUX

"What the heck was that?" Beth O'Brien asked.

"What?"

"Back there when we left. You looked like you were going to cry."

"Pietr and I are going steady," Ivy said.

"What? I don't think so! He's three years older than you!"

Ivy kept it together. She didn't take the bait. "He's two years and three months older than I am."

"Well, that's quite a bit of difference in maturity," Beth O'Brien said.

"Uh huh," Ivy said. "Dad was seven years older than you. Gary was five years older than you."

"That's different!"

Ivy remained calm. "Is it? Exactly who was more mature again? You or dad?"

Beth O'Brien opened her mouth and then closed it. "It's a long way between Tampa and Atlanta."

Ivy exhaled wistfully. "It sure is, Mom. It sure is."

"Long distance relationships are difficult."

"I guess I'm going to find out," Ivy shrugged.

Beth O'Brien kept looking at Ivy instead of the road.

"What?" Ivy asked. "Watch where you're going, Mom."

"There's something different about you."

"Ya think?"

"Uh, if you and Pietr think you're dating, does that mean something happened while you were staying there?"

"Pietr is a complete gentleman," Ivy said simply. It wasn't a lie.

"I kind of thought you'd be more into Kyle," Beth O'Brien said.

"Kyle is a rogue."

"What makes you say that?"

"Brutal honesty and self-awareness," Ivy said.

Beth O'Brien laughed. "Who are you?"

"Clear to merge," Ivy looked over her shoulder.

"Thanks." Beth flipped her turn signal.

Ivy "Arby" O'Brien thought about all the things that were going to happen when the car pulled back into the condo parking lot. She thought about her debrief to Poke, and the probablilty that Poke wasn't going to believe it all. Hell, Ivy didn't believe everything she'd been through in two weeks, and she livedit. Ivy thought about how the kids back in Alpharetta were going to look at her different. How some of the girls would smile and snicker. Fine. Let 'em. The best of those girls didn't have boyfriends that were half the man that Pietr was. As soon as Pietr came up to see her, Ivy would be sure they were seen at all the popular places holding hands. That would shut those bitches up. Fast. It would all work out somehow. Ivy was especially looking forward to the day that she introduced Pietr to Tad. That was going to be one for the ages. Ivy smiled.

Ivy looked over at her mother. Beth O'Brien had the slightest hint of a grin on her lips as well.

"What's up with you?" Ivy asked.

"Nothing. What do you mean?"

"You've had a secret smirk ever since you stepped out of the cab. Did you meet somebody on the cruise after all?"

Beth O'Brien looked at Ivy. "Well aren't you perceptive?"

"Spill. Who is he? What does he do?"

"It's not like that. I didn't meet anybody on the cruise."

"Oh," Ivy said. "Gary call you?"

Beth O'Brien looked seriously shocked and seriously impressed.

"I figured," Ivy said.

"It's nothing. I'm not going back with him. It was just a nice call. He wanted to apologize for some stuff, and that was nice to hear."

"Why wouldn't you take him back?" Ivy asked.

"I can't believe you just asked me that."

"You two were really good together," Ivy said. "You should hear him out."

Ivy felt Beth staring at her ear but didn't turn to look over.

"But you two—"

"Oh, I was a jerk, Mom," Ivy said. "I was busting his balls from the first time you brought him home. It's so freakin' hard to find a good guy that you have chemistry with who isn't a total a-hole. Don't avoid Gary because of me. I could try a lot harder to get along with him."

"I... I don't even know what to say."

They lapsed into a long silence.

"Are you serious about that?" Beth O'Brien asked. "Because if I get the promotion we talked about, I'm going to have to travel quite a bit more. I don't want to worry about you and Gary home alone and fighting all the time."

"That's not going to happen anymore," Ivy said. "The man paid for everything when you two were together. The least I could do is show him a little respect.

"Wow," Beth said."Maybe I underestimated the Kisselhoff Brothers' effect on you. You really might be more mature than I gave you credit for."

"Revelation," Ivy said.

"I would worry less about the Tad Lourettes of the world if somebody like Gary was around to keep an eye on you."

"Oh mother please!" Ivy rolled her eyes. "I'm SO done with little boys. From here on out, I'm only dating men."

Beth O'Brien was quiet for a long time before she muttered, "Yeah. Me too, Baby. Me too."

POSTSCRIPT ONE: PAULO

Paul Sheshinger fistbumped Marcel Duplo and tossed his dishwasher apron into the laundry bin behind the salad prep station. It was soaked. His knees were soaked. The steam of the industrial dishwasher had sapped his strength and left him aching for a little weed.

Paulo shuffled through the dark to the far end of the strip mall parking lot. His old-but-functional Dodge Dart was parked under the farthest streetlight. He admired the gleam of the rims. He loved those fucking rims. It was late October and it was finally brisk in the evening. He really felt the chill on his wet lower pants.

He tried to remember if his little brother had enough indica in his top drawer to load a bong for a couple hits of relief to his sore back.

Paulo looked cautiously through the darkness, craning his head around. Nobody. Pasco County rolled up the sidewalks early on weeknights. The Cut Above had stayed open late to finish off a Homecoming rush of kids who crashed twenty-minutes-to-close. Paul checked the clock on his phone. He had missed Colbert. Maybe something new was on Hulu.

He caught his reflection in Kathy the crabby dyke hostess's GMC truck window. He was rocking Native American braided pigtails. They looked good with his long, dark hair. He looked ghetto. He looked bad ass. He looked cartel. Yeah. It went really well with the signature driver's cap he was known for.

The Dart's windows were fogged with humidity condensation. Fucking Florida. It would take a minute to run the air conditioner and clear them. Great. More time between him and home.

Paul's keyfob had run out battery a long time ago, so he had to physically key into the car door. He sat and closed the door. Paul yawned and turned the key over in the ignition. The starter chugged but didn't turn over. He turned again and it tried harder this time, but the engine didn't catch.

"Fuck!" Paul pounded the steering wheel in frustration.

"Yeah sucks when your ride is sick."

Paul nearly shit himself. He whipped around. Kyle Kisselhoff was sitting in the backseat smiling.

"You're not there," Paul muttered. "I have a restraining order. We all have restraining orders."

"Really?" said Kyle. "You got it on you? I've never actually read it."

"Dude, I will kick your ass. Seriously," Paul said.

"Yeah? Huh. I kind of don't think so. Your voice is shaky, brah."

Paul looked around the car. He instinctively locked the door.

"Dude, why are you locking me in?" Kyle asked. "That doesn't make any sense."

"It wasn't what you think," Paul's voice was almost pleading. "I told them not to do it. I'm not into that rough shit, man. I didn't really do anything but get a blowjob for like ten seconds."

"Huh," Kyle nodded. "That's difficult to believe. Which time exactly are we talking? With Sadie? With Donna Redmond? With Olivia Jennings? Did Olivia only get ten seconds of Paulo's magic penis shoved in her mouth? What about Ollie Coover's little sister, Collins? How many seconds of your dick did she get in her mouth?"

Paul blanched.

"Oh! You didn't know that I knew about little Collins, did you? You thought that was still one of your secrets? Yeahno. Not so much. It all kind of came undone when that Kirstin chick from Channel 8 did that story. Remember? Yeah she was doing a story about Pietr and I and what bad dudes we were, and then she happened -- and this is totally crazy -- Kirstin Radford was out to dinner with her niece, talking about her assignments, and guess who her niece is? Willa Radford!"

Paul cringed and slumped forward.

"Yeah!" Kyle said. "What are the odds! You know Willa. I know Willa. And Willa knows you and your pals. And Willa tells Kirstin Radford about what happened to her. The reporter starts asking questions, and the story that was supposed to be about me, turns into a story about you! Only she doesn't use your name or Mallory's name, because you're minors. But people start figuring stuff out. Mallory's stepmom got recalled off the bench. His dad is under judicial review. And then... Paul you can't believe how many girls have approached Pietr and I since the story broke after what we did to Chad. And then we scored that sweet Pro Bono lawyer of ours. Do you know what Pro Bono means, Paulo?"

"He's... really into U2?"

Kyle blinked. "You are a treasure, Paulo. An absolute treasure. Actually it's Latin. I'm not certain of the direct translation, but it's something really close to 'dude who hates assholes more than he likes money.' And Paulo, Mr. Horowitz doesn't like you."

Paul began to sweat. His eyes checked the rear view. His head snapped from side to side.

"What are you looking for, dude?"

"You know."

"I'm afraid I don't," Kyle shrugged. "Oh, are you looking for my brother?" Big mother fucker? 'Bout yay high?" Kyle lifted his flattened hand to the roof liner. "He's pretty hard to hide."

"I don't run with those guys anymore, Kisselhoff. Seriously," Paulo said.

"Hmmm. Do tell," Kyle said, clearly not buying wwhat Paul was selling.

"Dude, seriously," Paulo said. "This doesn't have to go down like this. Nobody needs to get hurt. Don't hurt me, man. Be cool. Don't hurt me."

Kyle laughed. "Dude! Really? You think I'm going to hurt you? Hahahhaha. I'm not going to hurt you man!"

"Really?" Paul needed to piss in the worst way.

"Nyah!" Kyle flipped a palm at Paul. "I just wanted to talk to you."

"And?"

"And now we've talked, Paulo."

Paul looked at Kyle through the rear view mirror. Kyle smiled. "Are you going to unlock the door and let me out? Or do I need to crawl through the window, Paulo?"

Paul's finger nervously hovered over the unlock button. It seemed like a trap.

"Hulk!" Kyle shouted. "Smash!"

Paul's eardrum popped with the shattering sound of Pietr's fist coming through the driver's window, wrapped in boxer's tape. A giant hand reached in the car and opened the door from the inside. The door was pulled open until it maxed out the hingepoint. Then it kept bending forward until it was parallel to the front tire. Pietr looked down through the wide opening at Paulo.

"Heyya," Pietr smiled.

Paul Sheshinger's bladder let go long before he was pulled out of the car.

POSTSCRIPT TWO: IMPRESSIONS

"Collins, you got another one of your mystery boxes," Oliver tossed a small brown box on Coover's bed. "You ever going to tell me what's going on with that? Some secret admirer?"

"Just a girl thing," Collins said. "Secret message club. We get these little messages of girl empowerment and it's kind of a chain letter thing."

"Sounds stupid," Oliver said, walking out of Collins room. Collins gently closed the door and quietly twisted the lock. She put the box on her desk and opened the packing tape carefully with a pair of scissors. There were four or five layers of old tape that had been cut and the fresh new layer.

Collins tilted the box. As usual, three things fell out. Some pre-filled FedEx address labels, a piece of folded notebook paper, and a Kleenex tissue. Collins shook the tissue carefully. A tiny sliver of ivory and tobacco stain rolled onto her desk. The top was pointy. The bottom was jagged and sharp. Collins picked it up and pinched it between two fingers, feeling the razor sharp jagged bottom cut into her thumb. Collins held it up to the light. Definitely a canine tooth. Looked like a bottom.

Collins already knew what the writing on the paper would say. At the top it said, "J.S."

And then there was a series of girls names and addresses. As per usual, three of them had lines through them. Then there was Collins' name and address. Collins drew a line through her name and address. There were two more names and addresses. Collins was supposed to box it all back up and send it to the next name on the list.

But Collins didn't like to send teeth pieces go away. She pulled out the electric coil hotplate that she bought at Kohl's and plugged it in to warm up. Collins pulled out her resin molding kit and quickly made a small caste of the tooth. She put on her surgical gloves and used her hotplate to warm up her flexible mold medium in boiling water. She mixed her A and B resin compounds into tiny plastic cups. It wasn't a very big tooth, so Collins didn't mix much media. She carefully poured the mixed A and B into her fleximold.

When it was done, Collins pulled the fleximold apart and pulled out the copy of Paul's tooth. She held it in her hand. It had similar weight. The broken bottom was just as sharp as Paul's real tooth. Sharp enough to cut herself. And she'd probably use it to cut herself later. That was part of her strange ritual.

Collins put the resin tooth copy with the rest of her collection. Dante. Chad. Now Paul. There were two left, the big two: Tyrus and Dominic. She had a special place on her shelf display for those.

Collins wrapped the real tooth back in the tissue. She put the list back in the box. Found the address label for the next girl. Taped the box shut. Placed the new label, same as always for the next girl on the list: "Zooey." It would cost her 14 dollars for the postage, but Collins would pay the freight. No problem.

It was worth every penny.

POSTSCRIPT THREE: 2022. NEW MOON. 33,000 FEET OVER THE GULF OF RIGA

Pietr reached down and adjusted the shin strap on his exoskeleton for the hundredth time. It was rubbing him wrong. Even though he had one of the few custom exos in the platoon because of his size, the soft fittings were still a little wonky. That strap chafing him was going to suck, considering it may be acting up for god knows how long once they were in the AO. Maybe months.

Pietr looked at Kyle, whose eyes were closed. He was vibrating slightly with the turbulence buffeting the SC-131. Kyle's exo fit perfectly, even though it was standard issue. (To the extent that exoskeletons were now standard-issue for combat operations.) Even Kyle's helmet seemed to look better on Kyle than it did anybody else.

Major Dallas swayed in from the flight deck and touched his gauntlet comm. He spoke softly into his helmet mic and the entire platoon heard him crisply. "Alright men and women, we just cleared Estonian airspace."

Everyone exhaled.

"Yeah. First hurdle is behind us. We have no way of knowing whether it was our stealth tech or if the Stonies were bluffing. We're going to be dropping to the jump deck in 30, and this will be no gentle descent. Your assholes are going to fall out, but even though we invited the flight crew to jump with us, for some reason they want to get back to those cuties in Helsinki tonight with their can in one piece. Go figure."

Nervous laughter.

"Once you hit the ground, remember, only Bravo depoys their drones. If Ivan has ADLs we can't afford to lose all our hovertech before we take it the trucks. So Bravo only, no matter how fucked it gets or how in-the-shit you find yourself. If you aint dead, popping your overwatch drone in range of ADLs is only going to get you painted on their tech faster. As you all know, Little Kiss has blessed us with some of his non regulation tech mods to our overwatch drones. He seems to think he's smarter than the Ruskies who programmed the ADLs. That I believe. Considering the Ruskies bought the technology from the Israelis, I'm not sure."

Kyle touched the gauntcom on his wrist. "My tech is solid as your momma's promise, Major," he said.

"Little Kiss, if your tech is half as skilled as your game with the skirts, we'll be in Minsk by sundown."

Everyone laughed.

"Remember, the shitty Google interpredots are lacking-at-best with most Russian dialects, so if you need any help with captives or interregations, both Big Kiss and Little Kiss are fluent in Ruskie. For the next fifteen, you can use your interpersonals, but keep it low and stay frosty."

The Major tapped out of his comm and walked back toward the flight deck.

Pietr nervously swiped his gauntlet display to look at some personal photos that calmed his nerves and slowed his racing pulse. A beautiful blonde woman with her curly ponytail sticking out of the back of a Diamondbacks cap. Grand Canyon behind her. Gorgeous fat baby boy in her arms waving to the camera with both chubby arms.

"How the fuck did we get here, Pee?" Kyle had commed into Pietr's ear.

"I'm pretty sure we enlisted, brother."

"Why are you not starting for the Broncos tomorrow? Why am I not a famous rockstar being wooed to play the halftime show of the Superbowl?"

Pietr smiled. "A long history of making bad decisions for the right reasons."

Kyle's lips were thin. "Yaknow sometimes I think he won. We're here. He's somewhere in Portland with his dental bridgework and a cushy civilian job."

"He leads group at a meth detox hospital," Pietr said. "His singular marketable lifeskill is being clean five minutes longer than the next-cleanest twitch."

"Yeah," Kyle scowled. "Cushy."

Pietr smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Cushy."

"I am not going to die down there," Kyle said.

"Of that I'm certain," Pietr said. But Pietr wasn't certain about anything.

"Hey, you remember when we were kids," Kyle said, "and the women always yammering that once there was a woman president, there would be no more wars?"

Pietr laughed. "Not so much, huh?"

"What a crock of shit that was, bro."

A deafening explosion sent everybody jumping against their restraints. The aircraft jumped and dipped, leaving Pietr's stomach in his mouth momentarily.

Everyone's gauntlet com lit up at the same time. "Triple A," the pilot's voice warned. "Looks like Ivan knows we're here, but he can't see us. They're painting randomly trying to get a particle signature. We're going evasive. Secure!"

The plane lurched and gravity punched Pietr in the face. Then he was floating. Then his cranial fluid was in his boots. Pietr had always hated roller coasters. A hot combat zone had to be better than this bullshit.

The plane leveled out momentarily. Pietr could still hear the crackle of anti-aircraft bursts, but they seemed far away.

The major appeared on the ramp again. He touched his gauntlet and commed in to everyone's helmet.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have experienced our first casualty, and our first casualty is the plan. I hope you motherfuckers like to march, because there are Chinese J-20s inbound and we're going now. We're over Trakai, about thirty miles west of the border. We're going to have to do it the hard way."

Everyone groaned.

"Outboard! Stand up!" Major Dallas said.

Kyle and Pietr and their line stood and turned toward the ramp.

"Inboard! Stand up! Hook up!"

Kyle and Pietr clipped their carabiner into the jumpline.

"Check static! Check equipment!"

Pietr's pulse raced in his ears.

AAA exploded very near the aircraft. For a moment Pietr was sure it blew the port wing off, but the plane stabilized. Everyone spun on their static lines for a moment and then found their footing.

"Sound off for equipment check!" shouted the Major.

Hydraulics screamed. The rear door began dropping away and the sound of the air pressure rushing in the cabin was deafening. It was hard to hear the comm. There it appeared, ominously: a ramp to war. All a soldier had to do was walk the plank, and after that there was no escaping combat, so long as their chute deployed and they didn't end up making their own grave with their impact into the Earth. After a soldier's feet ran to a controlled landing on terra firma it would merely become a matter of the good fortune to always be where the bullets weren't.

Everyone shuffled toward the opening slightly until Pietr's chest was pressing against Kyle's pack.

"One at the door!" the comm blasted. The jump light turned yellow. Everyone stared at it. Any second.

"Hold, Door!" Major Dallas broke in. "Hold! Hold! On my mark. Hold!"

This was unusual. You didn't hold paratroopers on a yellow light. It made them anxious and prone to mistakes. There should have been less than ten seconds between the door call and the green light, but either the Major or the pilot was holding out for better terrain underneath them. Pietr's knees began to knock.

Against protocol, Pietr tapped his gauntlet icon for Kyle. "When was the last time I told you that I love you?" Pietr asked quietly.

Kyle tapped his wrist. "After dad died. Before the funeral. Mom stopped to pick up something from the VA. We were sitting in the back of the car. Elton John was on the radio. 'Daniel.'"

"That's too long. I love you, Kyle."

Kyle looked over his shoulder and nodded. "I love you too, brother."

Kyle turned back to stare at the jump light. Pietr left the comm open. They waited. This was crazy. They waited some more.

"I'm sorry," Pietr said. "I'm sorry we ended up here, Kyle."

Kyle looked back over his shoulder and smiled. "This isn't the end, Pee," he said. "And we're exactly where we belong."

Their comms crackled. "Okay, on mark. Light is green," Major Dallas hooked into the line.

Kyle faced forward but kept his comm open. "Like these motherfuckers were seriously going to win a war without the Kissehoff Brothers."

Pietr laughed.

"Mark! GO!" shouted Major Dallas.

Everyone ran for the ramp.

Kyle was swallowed by the darkness. Half-a-heartbeat later Pietr stepped into nothingness and everything was strangely quiet.