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Call Girl Cheerleaders - Part 2
By Richard Bissell (address withheld)

***

A guy falls into a relationship-for-money with a high 
school cheerleader that soon grows into a group thing 
that then flowers into a romantic relationship between 
him and the girls. (M/f+teens, bi, mast, oral, anal, 
orgy, prost)

***

Author Notes: Adults only, no prudes. If you don't like 
sex stories containing teenagers engaging in weird 
perversions, or you can't separate truth from fiction, 
get lost. The author does not advocate or condone 
anything that goes on in this story. 

This story is mine. You can repost it or archive it 
only if 1) you don't change it, 2) my name and this 
disclaimer remain attached, and 3) you aren't making 
money off it. That includes posting it on some slime-
ball banner farm web site. Yes, that means you! 


CHAPTER NINETEEN
----------------

I was reading the paper and enjoying a cup of coffee 
beside the pool the next morning when the phone rang. I 
normally didn't like to be bothered on Saturday 
mornings, but lately Marianne had taken to calling me 
just to see what I was up to, so I answered it. 

"Hello?" 

"Can I speak to Steven Chandler please?" 

"Speaking. What can I do for you?" 

"Well, I'm hoping you can make my day, Steve." 

The voice was feminine, husky, throaty, and vaguely 
familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. 

"Uh, could I ask who is calling?" 

"Oh, Steve. Are you telling me you've forgotten your 
first piece of ass?" 

I gasped. 

"Oh, my God. Mary Jo?" 

"In the flesh. How are you?" 

"Stunned. To what do I owe the honor of this call?" 

"Well, I'd like to say I've been pining after you all 
these years, but I don't think my husband and children 
would appreciate that. I'm calling because I'm on the 
All Saints Reunion Committee, and I am just heartbroken 
to see that you haven't RSVP'd yet. I know you live 
just up the coast, so you can't plead distance. I was 
hoping I could talk you into coming next week." 

My 25th high school reunion was a week away, and 
although I had been getting invitations and information 
in the mail, I hadn't given much thought to going. 
These things generally struck me as little more than 
"Look How Successful I've Become" affairs, and I had 
always liked to think I was above that sort of 
nonsense, no matter how successful I *had* actually 
become. 

Of course, my high school experience also had something 
to do with it. I was largely a geek and a loner back 
then, hanging out exclusively with my pothead friends. 
Mary Jo had been about the only girl who gave me the 
time of day. Going to the first few reunions by myself 
while more and more of my former classmates showed up 
with spouses only brought back those feelings of 
alienation, even if I now dated fairly regularly. 

"So what do you say, Steve? Surely you've got something 
you want to show off?" 

Yeah, right, I thought. Look at my car, my Rolex, my 
gir-- 

No. Oh, shit. Could I really do that? Did I really have 
the balls? Could I actually show up at this thing with 
an eighteen-year-old girl on my arm? I would be 
defining every single stereotype about the middle-aged 
bachelor. Every woman at the reunion would either laugh 
at me or want to slip a knife between my ribs. But the 
men--oh, dear God. The reactions I would get would be 
priceless. 

Mary Jo was still waiting for an answer. 

"Steve?" 

"Uh, sorry. I was woolgathering for a moment." I took a 
long breath. 
"Yeah, I guess I can make it. Count me in." 

"Great. You won't regret this." 

Mary Jo probably thought she knew why I was laughing, 
but she didn't. 

Marianne appeared about an hour later. She wore jeans 
and another spandex baby tee shirt, this one in neon 
hey-check-this-shit-out orange. She carried a spiral 
notebook, and after giving me a big kiss, showed me 
what she had. 

"It's chapter one of our story." 

I opened the notebook and began to read: 

I was watching football one Saturday afternoon when the 
doorbell rang. I don't get a lot of unannounced 
visitors, so I was fairly sure that this was another 
solicitor of some sort. I peeked through the peephole 
and saw that I was probably right. It appeared to be 
some teenage girl. 

What followed was a fairly raunchy recounting of that 
first afternoon, when Marianne had come by pretending 
to sell magazines. I finished it in a few minutes, 
though I had to shift in my chair to free my stiffening 
dick. 

"What do you think?" 

"Very descriptive." 

"Do you like it?" 

"Yes. Why are you pretending to be me again?" 

"Because if I write it as me, I'll get ten thousand e-
mails from guys wanting to have sex with me." 

"What are you going to do with it now?" 

"I want to type it onto your computer and then post 
it." 

"You can't use my AOL account for something like this." 

"Oh, I know. I've already set up an anonymous account 
somewhere else. Don't worry." 

She ran upstairs, and when I went up about twenty 
minutes later to get dressed for the day, she was just 
finishing up. I watched her log on to some web site, 
copy the story onto a form, and then post it. 

"There. All done." 

She lifted out of the chair and pecked me on the lips. 

"I wouldn't have pegged you for a computer geek. If 
that's the term they use these days." 

Her forehead creased in amusement. 

"It's nothing geeky. Everybody knows how to do stuff 
like this now. We use computers in about half our 
classes at school. " 

She continued playing around with my computer while I 
got dressed. When I came out of the dressing area, I 
found her lying on her back on my bed inspecting her 
hair for split ends. 

"Anything happen with Tiffany?" I asked. 

"I left a message for her before I came over here. Her 
mom said she was out at her little sister's soccer 
game." 

"What did you say?" 

"I told her I wanted to tie her daughter up and fuck 
her." She giggled. 
"What do you think I said? I just asked her to call 
me." 

I lay down beside her. 

"I've got a favor to ask you. I'll understand 
completely if you don't want to do this, because I know 
you're a little sensitive about this issue." 

She rolled on her side and looked at me. 

"What?" 

"My 25th high school reunion is next weekend. I got a 
call from a woman I used to know this morning trying to 
talk me into going." 

Her eyes widened a little, and I could see the wheels 
turning behind them. 

"And you want me to go?" 

"If you're okay with it. If not, fine." 

She looked down at the bed. She didn't say anything for 
a few moments. 

"If I go... it's going to attract a lot of attention, 
isn't it?" 

"Yes. No point in trying to pretend it won't." 

She looked up at me now, and a tinge of resentment 
colored her face. 

"I am not going to make a spectacle of myself. I 
really, really, hope you don't want to do this just to 
show me off. Randy used to like to do that, and it 
hurt, okay? It really hurt sometimes. If that's all you 
want, you can buy yourself a blow-up doll and take 
her." 

I pulled her to me, hugging her. 

"I don't. That's not it. I don't care what they think. 
I haven't even gone to the last three or four reunions 
because it's always like that. I think most people go 
just to show something off, like how rich they've 
gotten or how thin they've kept themselves. But I was 
thinking we could have some fun with this. If I show up 
with you, it will upstage everything. No one will care 
about anything else, and everyone who showed up to show 
off will be out of luck." 

Her face took on a pensive expression, but she didn't 
say anything. 

"Look. I kind of would like to go, and if I do, I'd 
like to take you. But if you go, it *will* create a 
spectacle. Nothing either of us can do will change 
that. So we might as well milk it for some 
entertainment value." 

She stared hard into my eyes. 

"Tell me that you don't want to do this to show me off 
to your friends." 

"I don't want to do this to show you off. And these 
people are not my friends. I haven't kept in touch with 
any of them." 

"So why do you want to go?" 

"Curiosity. Nostalgia. I don't know. Maybe because the 
woman who called this morning was the girl I lost my 
virginity to." 

Her eyes lit up. 

"Really? The one you told me about before? The Led 
Zeppelin concert?" 

"Yes. And she's married with kids, so don't worry about 
her carrying a torch for me." 

She bit her lip. 

"That might be interesting, meeting her. I don't know. 
What would you want me to do?" 

"Only what you were comfortable with." 

She sighed and thought for a moment. 

"I want to go with you. And, I guess, if I do, I 
shouldn't act like I have anything to be ashamed of." 

"No." 

"I think I see what you're saying. I could go and act 
all embarrassed, which would just confirm all the nasty 
things people would be thinking. Or I could go and 
dress up and have fun and show them I don't care what 
they think. That I know what they're thinking, and I 
don't give a shit." 

"Right." 

A smile spread across her face. 

"I like this idea." 

She sat up, and the grin got wider. I watched her eyes 
losing their focus as she gave it more thought. 

"You know, I think this could be cool. Really, really, 
really cool." 

She giggled. 

"Uh-oh," I said. 

She giggled again and then rolled over to pin me down. 

"I am going to turn myself into the most outrageous 
piece of arm candy you have ever seen. They will never 
know what hit them." 

"Oh, Jesus." 

"No, don't you see? If we hold back at all, it's just 
bowing to all their prejudices and bullshit. I'm going 
to throw all that right back in their faces." 

"But classy, okay? This is a coat-and-tie reception." 

"Right. I won't dress like a hooker. But I'm going to 
show off as much as I can without breaking the law." 

She dropped down and kissed me vigorously, pressing her 
big tits against my chest. 

"Now let me go see if Tiff is home so we can get ready 
for tonight." 

She hopped off the bed and ran out the front door. I 
lay there wondering what I had just precipitated. 

Marianne returned about fifteen minutes later and 
informed me that Tiffany had, in fact, agreed to show 
up and submit to her for one night. And she apparently 
hadn't required a lot of convincing, either. 

So the two of us set about straightening up the house 
and gathering the things Marianne thought she would 
need. We went out and bought a few dozen scented 
candles ("I want to put them all over the house and 
then shut off the lights."), some silk scarves, a 
blindfold, a pair of novelty handcuffs, and (this one 
surprised me, which made Marianne laugh), a set of 
nipple clips, which we got in a store near the 
University. 

Marianne went home for a few hours after that so as not 
to be gone the entire day, then returned around eight, 
having told her parents she was going out with Tiffany. 
Which, of course, she was, in a way. She arrived 
carrying a gym bag on her shoulder. 

"What's in there?" 

"I want to dress up a little for this. Plus I have a 
couple of things for Tiff." 

The bag contained a rolled-up dress bag and two pairs 
of hold-up stockings, one white and one black. The 
dress bag held an off-white silk cocktail dress, a sort 
of kimono-like wrap with a deep neckline. She smiled at 
my raised eyebrows. 

"I saw it one day and liked it. I figured I would wear 
it the next time we went out." 

"I like it." 

"You have to dress up, too. Then we'll have Tiff be our 
slave." 

I set up the candles around the house while she got 
dressed. The doorbell rang about ten minutes later. I 
went to get it, but it wasn't Tiffany. 

Instead, it was a delivery boy from a service that 
handled take-out orders from a lot of the local 
restaurants. And he had arrived with a complete dinner 
from Bernardo's. I brought it into the kitchen just as 
Marianne reappeared in her dress. She grinned at me. 

"That's for us. Tiff is going to serve us a romantic 
dinner." 

I laughed. 

"This should be interesting." 

"Yep. Now go get ready." 

I went upstairs, and just as I was finishing with my 
tie, I heard the doorbell ring again. From the voices I 
heard down below, it was apparently Tiffany. 

When I descended to the first floor, I didn't 
immediately see them. All the lights were off, and the 
house was lit entirely by candlelight. I heard their 
voices behind the door of the first floor guestroom, so 
I found a bottle of Chianti in my wine closet and 
opened it. 

The girls came out after a few minutes. Tiffany was 
naked except for the black stockings and the nipple 
clips that hung from her pretty breasts, a nice 
accompaniment to the studs in her navel and clit. I 
noticed a moment later, for it was hard to see at first 
in the dim candlelight, that she had also shaved her 
pubic hair. 

Marianne smiled. 

"You see it?" 

"Yes." 

"I told her to do it. She's not blonde or red-haired, 
so I thought you would like it." 

"I do." 

She turned to Tiffany. 

"All right, slave, serve us our dinner." 

Marianne and I sat down as Tiffany unpacked the 
delivery order. She organized everything carefully and 
then set it on the table in front of us. Then she 
poured the wine and stepped back. 

"Kneel on the floor in case we need you," Marianne 
said. 

Tiffany dropped to her knees, keeping her eyes down. 
Her breathing was heavier than it should have been, and 
her chest was flushed deep red. Her hands kept 
squirming in her lap. I couldn't tell if she was turned 
on or just embarrassed. Or both. 

I felt Marianne's foot caressing my leg. 

"Don't worry. She's enjoying this. Aren't you, slave?" 

Tiffany nodded, but said nothing. We ate slowly, and 
the food was quite good. Throughout the meal, Marianne 
kept giving Tiffany little instructions and directions, 
with which Tiffany complied without a peep of protest. 
When we were done, she cleared the dishes and piled 
them in the sink. She fetched the dessert Marianne had 
ordered out of the refrigerator, but when she went for 
the plates, Marianne stopped her. 

"No. Serve us yourself, slave. Come here." 

Tiffany glanced at the two of us in confusion, but 
brought the little container of tiramisu over to the 
table. Marianne plucked the nipple clips from Tiffany's 
breasts and dug a scoop of the pastry out with her 
finger. She placed it on Tiffany's left tit, which was 
just full and upturned enough to hold it. 

"Serve him." 

Tiffany approached me, offering her breast. I took it 
in my mouth, sucking the dessert off and licking her 
nipple until it was clean. 

"Now me," Marianne said. 

Tiffany placed another serving of tiramisu on her other 
breast, then presented it to Marianne. She licked it 
off slowly, watching my reaction and Tiffany's. We 
finished the dessert like that, making a gooey mess of 
Tiffany's breasts. I could see her fighting a grin at 
this, and relaxed a little. However she was acting, she 
appeared to be having fun here. 

Marianne licked her fingers clean when we were done. 

"Clean yourself up, slave, then present yourself 
upstairs." 

She stood and led me up to the bedroom. She slipped out 
of her cocktail dress, and she had apparently worn 
nothing under it but the white stockings. She helped me 
out of my suit just as Tiffany appeared in the doorway. 

"Kneel, slave." 

She did. Marianne produced and applied the blindfold, 
then replaced the nipple clips and cuffed Tiffany's 
hands in front of her. 

"All right slave, there are two things you have to do 
tonight before we release you. Remember?" 

Tiffany answered hesitantly, and her voice quavered as 
she spoke. 

"Yes. I'm going to eat your pussy." 

"And?" 

She took a deep breath. 

"Get fucked in the ass." 

I grinned at Marianne, and she smiled at me 
triumphantly. 

"Let's begin, then. Come here, slave." 

Tiffany crawled toward her, and Marianne pulled her 
into place. Tiffany reached up with her bound hands, 
finding Marianne's twat, and rose up to her knees. She 
extended her tongue and began to lick slowly. Marianne 
arched her back, shaking her long blonde hair back 
behind her head. She pulled Tiffany closer, and Tiffany 
forced her head further between Marianne's stockinged 
thighs. 

I sat on the end of the bed to watch them. With her 
hands cuffed together, Tiffany had nothing to grab on 
to, and she finally rested them in her lap. Her head 
was leaned most of the way back now, and Marianne stood 
with her legs on either side of Tiffany as the other 
girl licked up at her. Marianne's hands were writhing 
in Tiffany's hair, holding her close. Her teeth were 
clenched, and I could hear her breath beginning to 
whistle between them. 

The reluctance I had seen in Tiffany that night after 
the football game was nowhere to be seen now. She 
licked and sucked at Marianne eagerly, probing into her 
with her tongue. I wondered if Tiffany's earlier 
hesitation had just been the vestiges of some 
conservative socialization--a stern superego, if you 
wanted to get Freudian--and only by submitting like 
this could she let her lesbian inclinations out. 

Marianne was getting close now, rocking her hips back 
and forth over Tiffany's mouth. Tiffany attacked her 
more aggressively, almost seeming to want to swallow 
Marianne's pussy. Marianne kept her hands tight on 
Tiffany's head, even though Tiffany showed no 
intentions of withdrawing. Finally, Marianne's legs 
began to shake, she cried out against Tiffany's lingual 
assault, and then came in a rush. 

Tiffany continued licking until Marianne withdrew, 
staggering toward the bed. She crawled up beside me 
into my arms. I held her, feeling her body still 
quivering gently in the aftermath of her climax. 

"Good?" 

"Great," she gasped. 

Tiffany had dropped back onto her feet, waiting further 
instructions. 
Marianne recovered after a minute or so and sat up. 

"Tiffany. Come here." 

She crawled to the end of the bed, and Marianne had me 
sit in front of her. 

"Suck his cock. You know what he likes." 

Tiffany sat up again and bent to work. She brought her 
hands up to play with my balls as she bobbed slowly 
over my erection. Marianne sat beside us, watching her, 
occasionally reaching out to brush Tiffany's hair back 
from her face. Tiffany kept up a steady massage with 
her lips and tongue, and I closed my eyes to 
concentrate on what she was doing. As she went on, she 
forced my dick further and further into her mouth until 
her nose was almost in my pubes. She couldn't quite 
deep throat me, though she appeared to be trying, and 
each time I felt myself probing at her throat until her 
gag reflex forced me out. 

Marianne crawled up to kneel behind me, hugging me and 
pressing her tits against my back. She rested her chin 
on my shoulder and licked at my ear. 

"I want you to fuck her in the ass," she moaned. "Hard. 
While she's eating me. I want to watch you do it while 
she gets me off again." 

I twisted around to kiss her, and she responded 
eagerly, sucking on my tongue and reaching around to 
tweak my left nipple. Tiffany continued to bob rapidly 
over me. 

Marianne climbed off the bed and found the massage oil. 

"Tiffany, get up on the bed. On all fours." 

Tiffany rose from my lap and climbed up into position. 
She moaned softly as Marianne lubricated her. Her 
breasts hung down under her, and the chain from the 
nipple clips swung back and forth over the bed. I saw 
the stud in her clit peeking out from between her 
shaved labia, and I reached in to tweak it as Marianne 
worked on her. Tiffany was dripping wet by now, fluids 
almost running down her stockinged thighs. Marianne 
oiled up my dick and then returned to the bed, lying in 
front of Tiffany and spreading her legs. 

Tiffany let out a little squeak when I placed my dick 
at her sphincter, but she spread her butt cheeks and 
pushed back at me. I forced myself in, pushing her face 
forward into Marianne's pussy. I couldn't see from my 
angle what she was doing there, but from Marianne's 
reaction, she had started to work already. Marianne 
grinned at me and caressed Tiffany's head. 

I slid slowly into Tiffany's butt, bottoming out 
against her tight cheerleader ass. She groaned and 
convulsed briefly, but Marianne held her head down. 

"Don't stop... let him do it... let him fuck you... let 
him fuck you in the ass." 

Tiffany whimpered softly, but tried to open herself 
even further. I slid slowly in and out of her oiled 
butt, feeling her sphincter pinching me spasmodically. 
She had taken me a long way by blowing me first, and I 
had to control my movements to keep from coming 
immediately. In front of us, Marianne was writhing 
under Tiffany's attentions, moaning and gripping 
Tiffany's hair. 

Marianne and I watched each other closely, trying to 
synch our arousal. She licked her lips at me 
lasciviously, and I felt my cum surging in my balls. 

"Fuck her, Steve. Come in her ass. I want to see it." 

I groaned, thrusting faster, thumping against Tiffany's 
tight butt. Tiffany continued to moan and whimper 
softly, but I knew she was getting off on this, because 
each time I bottomed out, my balls would slap against 
her twat, so wet and hot that it almost scalded. 

Marianne began to grunt and hump herself up at Tiffany 
as she neared her second orgasm. I lost control at that 
point, fucking Tiffany for all I was worth. Suddenly 
she began shuddering under me, somehow coming before 
both of us, and that was enough to do it. I thrust into 
her up to root, groaned out loud, and hosed down her 
bowels with my cum. 

Marianne's shrieks of orgasm barely penetrated my 
consciousness, and I held tightly onto Tiffany's hips. 
Only when Tiffany slid forward--Marianne was pulling 
her up to kiss her--did I finally withdraw. 

I staggered into the bathroom to clean myself up, and 
when I returned, Tiffany was still on all fours over 
Marianne, who held Tiffany's head closely, kissing her. 
I saw Marianne's hand up between Tiffany's legs, 
masturbating her furiously. Tiffany began to shake, and 
stopped kissing Marianne, dropping her head to 
Marianne's shoulder. 

I walked up to the end of the bed, watching them, 
looking at my cum streaked across Tiffany's buttocks 
and the juices running down the insides of her thighs. 
She let out a cry, coming again, and her body thrashed 
over Marianne. Her arms and legs finally collapsed as 
it peaked, and she fell forward onto her friend. 

I crawled up to lie beside them. Marianne held Tiffany 
tenderly, then pushed the blindfold off her face. 

"Okay. You're officially part of the gang again." 

Tiffany giggled. 

"Fuck. That was fun. I'd like to do that again some 
time." 

Marianne looked at me, grinning. 

"Me too. What do you think?" 

I laughed weakly. 

"Be my guest." 


CHAPTER TWENTY 
--------------

For the next week, though she teased and hinted and 
giggled about it, Marianne refused to give me any clear 
idea about what she was planning for the reunion. About 
all I could gather was that she was searching all over 
town for the perfect dress to wear. But beyond that, 
all I could get out of her was, "You'll see on Saturday 
night." She came over a few times that week to fool 
around (bringing Hayley with her on Wednesday), but 
otherwise I was occupied with work for another week. 

The reunion committee had also organized a tailgate 
party at the school football game that Friday, but I 
had no interest in spending the entire weekend down 
there. I didn't really care to watch All Saints lose 
again anyway, having seen it happen too many times when 
I was still a student. 

We would be spending Saturday night at the hotel since 
the party would run too late to come back that night. 
Marianne had worked out some cover story with her 
parents to explain her absence. It felt like a bigger 
risk than was necessary, but she insisted it would be 
safe. 

On Saturday afternoon at about three o'clock, Marianne 
appeared at my door with a dress bag in one hand and a 
little overnight bag in the other. She gave me a quick 
kiss and went upstairs to get ready. She took a shower 
(I was sorely tempted to climb in there with her, but 
it would have made us late) then went out to the 
dressing area to primp herself. I showered myself and 
shaved as Marianne did her hair and cosmetics, still 
naked except for a towel. 

"What did you tell your folks about tonight?" 

"That I was spending the night at Ashley's." 

"They never seem to question these charades." 

She shrugged. 

"I don't know about you," I said. "But I'm getting sick 
of this routine. You said you wanted to tell your 
parents about us eventually. I think that time is 
approaching." 

She glanced at me briefly. 

"I don't want to talk about that now." 

"Okay. But think about it." 

She finished with her hair and went out to the bedroom 
for her dress. I was about half-dressed myself by then, 
but I stayed in the back to let her put it on and 
surprise me. 

She returned in a few minutes with a big grin on her 
face. 

"What do you think?" 

The dress -- what there was of it -- was made from some 
soft, clingy grey-blue fabric (rayon or lycra, maybe, 
though I didn't know enough about clothes to be sure). 
It began about mid-thigh, and over her midsection there 
was an oval cut-out, exposing her belly ring. The neck 
was not particularly low-cut, but the fabric was very 
loose over her body--bending over would be dangerous 
tonight. The dress swept up over her shoulders and down 
her back. 

"You like it?" 

"Very hot." 

She grinned. "Wait until you see the rest of it." 

She turned slowly, and I gasped. It was cut--that 
wasn't really the proper word because there was nothing 
there to cut--*all* the way down. The shoulder straps 
didn't come back together until they got below the 
small of her back. The fabric was bunched up in soft 
waves at the bottom, and the split of her pretty 
buttocks was just barely visible. She essentially had a 
big sign on her back that said, "I have nothing on 
under this dress." 

She completed the turn, smiling at me. 

"Is this outrageous enough?" 

I tried to catch my breath. "You're going to give some 
of those men coronaries." 

She giggled. 

"No bra, either?" I asked. 

"Nope. I was going to wear stick-ons, but this fabric 
is just too clingy. You could see them through the 
dress and it looked awful. I'll be bouncing around a 
lot tonight, but I don't care." 

"Jesus." 

I looked down at her, and I realized that each time she 
inhaled, the front of her dress below the cutout opened 
enough to see right down into her crotch. The kitten 
tat was easily visible if you looked for it, and with 
the right lighting, you could probably see everything 
else, too. 

Her eyes twinkled. 

"Think this will do?" 

I swallowed against my suddenly dry mouth. 

"Yes." 

"You don't know how long it took me to find this thing. 
But as soon as I saw it, I knew it was the one." 

I exhaled slowly. 

"Let's go." 

She completed her look for the night with a matching 
wrap and little purse and high-heeled grey sandals. The 
wrap rendered her halfway decent for the trip south, at 
least. We got to the hotel about ninety minutes later. 
The valet took my Mercedes, and we went inside. 

I stopped at the front desk briefly to check in and get 
the key to our room. 
The bellboy took our bags, and we headed off to the 
party. 

I didn't immediately see anyone I recognized, which was 
not surprising since I had not seen any of these people 
in at least fifteen years, if not twenty-five. Marianne 
had my arm, and I felt her squeezing it more tightly as 
we crossed the lobby. 

"Are you okay?" 

She nodded quickly. 

"I'll be all right. But none of these people are your 
friends, right? You don't do business with them or 
anything?" 

"No." 

"So it doesn't matter what happens tonight? I'm just 
trying to get my bearings." 

"No, it doesn't. Just enjoy yourself." 

She nodded again, straightening her back as we 
approached the ballroom. Up ahead, I could see a table 
covered with nametags being manned by two women I 
didn't recognize at all. About half a dozen guests 
milled around outside. 

"Hi, good evening," one of the women said. Her nametag 
said "Phoebe Collins," but I still didn't remember her. 

"Hi. Steve Chandler." 

"Well, hi, Steve." 

Phoebe searched for my nametag and then handed it to 
me. Then she looked at Marianne, and I watched her 
smile cracking slightly. 

"Can I get you a nametag?" 

"Sure. Marianne Mulcahey." 

Phoebe filled out a nametag and handed it her. Her 
smile was entirely forced by this point. 

"Enjoy yourselves." 

We walked into the ballroom, and I glanced at Marianne, 
who was fighting a grin. 

"It's going to be like that all night, isn't it?" 

"Probably." 

I surveyed the room, still not seeing anyone I 
recognized, but seeing a lot of people doing double 
takes when they got a good look at Marianne. They had a 
coat check room in one corner, where she surrendered 
the wrap. She gave me a nervous grin. 

"Here we go." 

She took my arm again, squeezing it tightly. We made 
our way toward the bar, and I tried not to pay too much 
attention to the numerous cases of male whiplash 
Marianne was inducing as she passed. When we got to the 
bar, I half-turned to look behind us, seeing at least 
three or four men staring incredulously at Marianne's 
butt. Most of them had dates or spouses, and I saw one 
woman subtly jab her husband in the ribs when she saw 
what he was looking at. Then she gave me a dirty look 
and turned away. 

I ordered a pair of drinks and led Marianne back into 
the crowd. After a few sips of wine, she seemed to be 
calming down. 

"How are we doing?" she asked. 

"There are going to be a lot of men here with stiff 
necks tomorrow." 

She giggled. I spotted someone I knew, a guy named Jim 
Pederson, whom I had shared a bong-load or two with 
during my senior year. His hair had once been as long 
as Marianne's but it was now clipped short and heavily 
receding. He saw me a moment later and headed toward 
us. 

"Holy shit! Steve!" 

"Jim. How's it going?" 

He shook my hand vigorously, and then took in Marianne. 
Though his eyes widened slightly, he said nothing. 

"This is Marianne." 

She extended her hand, and he shook it. 

"Nice to meet you." 

Jim and I spent a few minutes catching up, during which 
I discovered that he was now an Assistant United States 
Attorney in San Francisco ("Quite a change from the old 
days, eh?" he asked, laughing). He gave Marianne some 
repeated glances but otherwise behaved himself. 

"So, um, what do you do, Marianne?" he finally asked. 

"I'm still in school." 

"What are you thinking of doing?" 

"I haven't really made up my mind." 

A heavyset man I didn't recognize came up to us, and 
only after reading his nametag, did I realize who it 
was--Mike Taylor, who had been the quarterback on the 
football team, though he was now several decades out of 
his playing form. He glanced at me as he approached, 
but most of his attention was on Marianne. 

"Steve. How you doing?" 

"Mike. Not bad." 

He looked at Marianne, who gave him a flirty smile. A 
little tremor ran over his face. 

"This is Marianne." 

He seemed to want to shake her hand, but she kept it at 
her side. I watched his eyes going up and down, up and 
down, from her breasts to her face and back again. 

"What... uh..." he managed, "what are you up to these 
days, Steve?" 

"I'm a stock trader. I live up the coast about two 
hours. What about you?" 

"I'm an Assistant Sales Manager at a big Chevy 
dealership near the beach. I, uh..." His eyes got stuck 
on Marianne's breasts again. "I've been there a few 
years." 

A brown-haired woman came up next to him, glancing at 
me, then Marianne, then back at me with disbelief 
filling her eyes. She nudged Mike, and he started. 

"Um, honey, this is Steve Chandler. We were friends 
back then." 

That was a lie, but I was feeling magnanimous enough 
not to call him out on it, especially as I watched the 
anger filling his wife's eyes. Like a nebula being 
pulled into a black hole, Mike's attention was being 
drawn inexorably back toward my girlfriend's chest. She 
gave his wife a sly look. 

The poor woman stood it for only a second or two before 
pinching Mike's side. He squirmed in her grip, but she 
refused to let go of him. Giving the two of us a steely 
glare, she took Mike's arm in hers. 

"Can we go sit down now, honey?" 

He gave me a conflicted look as she dragged him off. I 
glanced at Jim, who was fighting a grin. Marianne just 
smiled innocently. 

We repeated that scene a few more times, mostly with 
men I had hardly known--if at all--during high school. 
Though I hadn't said anything to Marianne and didn't 
intend to, there was one person I really did not want 
to see tonight, if she even remembered who I was or why 
I would care. Another cheerleader in another, far less 
pleasant, life. I kept glancing around, looking for her 
but not seeing her. After we had been there about an 
hour, I let myself decide that she hadn't come. 

More and more of the women I saw gave me nasty looks 
when our eyes met. I had been looking for Mary Jo, but 
I didn't see her until we had been there almost an 
hour. She stood with a tall, thin man with graying 
blonde hair. She was a bit rounder than I remembered 
but still pretty. 

She spotted me a minute later and came straight over. 

"Steve!" 

She gave me a big hug and then withdrew to check me 
out. 

"Look at you! You haven't aged a bit." 

Now she noticed Marianne, and I could see her eyes 
widening. Her smile wavered for a moment. 

"This is Marianne." 

They shook hands, and I introduced Mary Jo. 

"He's told me a lot about you," Marianne said, and that 
was sufficient to disrupt Mary Jo's mild case of shock. 
She laughed. 

"Oh, no. Well, I hope it was nothing indecent." 

"It was all good." 

Mary Jo's husband appeared at her side, and she 
introduced him. We made casual small talk for a few 
minutes. 

"So, how did you two meet?" 

"I live just down the street from him," Marianne said. 
"So we've sort of known each other a while." 

Mary Jo tried to smile, but I could tell it was 
difficult. 

"How long have you been going out?" 

"Just a few months, really." 

Mary Jo had always been on the shy side, and I could 
tell that this was as far as she could bear to take the 
conversation. We spent some time talking about what she 
had been up to, and about her two kids. Marianne went 
to the ladies' room a few minutes later, and when she 
was out of earshot, I leaned toward Mary Jo and lowered 
my voice. 

"Do you know if Beth Dunbar is here tonight?" 

A knowing look passed across her face. 

"As far as I know, she's not here. She hasn't come to 
the last few. We've lost track of her, to be honest. 
You don't really want to see her again, do you?" 

"No. That's why I'm asking." 

She nodded, but said nothing else. When Marianne 
reappeared, we split up with Mary Jo and her husband 
and headed back toward the bar. 

"Are you enjoying this?" she asked me. 

"Yes. You?" 

"I'm fine. It's not as difficult as I thought it would 
be. I'm having fun." 

"Good." 

We got to the bar and ordered another round of drinks. 
After I paid the tab, I leaned in to peck her on the 
cheek. 

"I have to hit the bathroom myself. Will you survive on 
your own for a few minutes?" 

She grinned. 

"I think I'll make it. Go." 

I went toward the men's room to take a leak. When I was 
standing in front of the urinal draining my bladder, 
Patrick Getzels, another guy I had barely known, came 
up to use the one next to me. 

"Steve." 

"Pat. How's it been?" 

"Not bad. That, uh, that girl with you..." 

"Marianne." 

"Your girlfriend?" 

"Yep." 

"How old is she?" 

I grinned and zipped up my slacks. 

"Legal." 

He laughed in disbelief. 

"Oh, Jesus." 

When I returned to the bar, Marianne had no less than 
four men around her trying to get her attention, and, 
none-too-subtlety, peer into the gaps in her dress. She 
seemed to be enjoying herself, and when I approached, 
she gave me a big kiss. The men around her backed away, 
various looks of embarrassment and jealousy on their 
faces. I recognized only one of them, Bart Creagler, 
another ex-football player. 

Marianne hugged my arm and smiled up at me. Bart pried 
his eyes off Marianne's butt and extended his hand. 

"Steve, how you doing?" 

"Not bad. You?" 

I watched the other men staring forlornly at Marianne 
and resisted the urge to grin at them. 

"Pretty good," Bart said. "What have you been up to?" 

Before I could answer him, a tall, thin woman with a 
barely restrained look of fury on her face appeared at 
Bart's side. I recognized her as (the former?) Marcy 
Conrad, who had been a cheerleader at All Saints and 
had dated Bart off and on during high school. She gave 
me an icy glare before taking Bart's arm. Bart shrunk 
into himself as he realized who it was. 

"Hello, Steve." 

"Marcy." 

The other men around us had dispersed into the crowd at 
Marcy's approach. 
She turned her eyes on Marianne, a razor-thin smile 
spreading over her face. 

"And this must be your daughter." 

Bart's eyes goggled, and I had to pause a moment to 
formulate a response. 
But Marianne beat me to it. 

"No, actually, I'm his fuck toy." 

Marcy's jaw dropped about six inches. 

"Although," Marianne went on, "sometimes I'll pretend 
to be his daughter, you know, yell out 'Fuck me, Daddy' 
when we're having sex. He likes me to do that." 

Marcy stared at her, then me, utterly speechless. I 
gave her a small grin. 

"She's kidding." 

She pulled herself closer to her husband and took a 
ragged breath. 

"Um, I think I see someone I need to talk to. I have to 
go over there." 

"It was nice to meet you," Marianne said sweetly. 

Marcy just straightened herself and dragged Bart off 
into the crowd. 
Marianne grinned up at me. 

"That was deft." 

"She asked for it." 

"I guess so." 

The dinner began shortly after that, and if the people 
we sat with were uncomfortable about Marianne's 
presence, they did their best not to show it. I still 
saw a lot of people pointing in our direction and 
whispering to each other. 

After dinner, Marianne dragged me out to the dance 
floor, where the DJ was playing a succession of late-
70's disco tunes. Her braless breasts bounced freely 
around in her dress while she danced, and nearly every 
male eye in range was fixed on her, to the 
consternation of most of the women present. As near as 
I could tell, she noticed and seemed to be enjoying it. 

The music changed to a KISS ballad, and we came 
together. I linked my hands at the base of her back, 
and she slid her arms around my waist and laid her head 
on my chest. The fabric of her dress was so loose and 
clingy that she almost felt naked. 

"Were you into disco in high school?" 

"No. I hated it. I was in the anti-disco crowd from the 
beginning." 

Over her shoulder, I saw a man nearby staring at 
Marianne's butt. 

"What did you like?" 

"Led Zeppelin. Foghat. Black Sabbath. KISS. That kind 
of stuff." 

She pressed herself closer to me, purring and rubbing 
her breasts against my chest. Then she rose up on her 
toes and leaned toward my ear. 

"How much longer do you want to stay here?" 

"Why?" 

"Because, I'm very fucking horny right now." I laughed 
softly. 

"Let's go then." 

We stopped dancing, and she pulled me toward the exit. 
We paused only to retrieve her wrap from the coat check 
before heading toward the elevator. I gave the room one 
final glance on the way out, seeing at least a dozen 
men dejectedly watching Marianne's exit. I allowed 
myself a small smile of triumph as we left. 

I had gotten a suite, and our room was on the top 
floor. The bellboy had left our bags on the bed, and 
the bottle of champagne I had ordered when I made the 
reservation had apparently just arrived. Marianne 
giggled when she saw it. 

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" 

"Do I need to?" 

She gave me a sly glance but said nothing, drifting out 
to the balcony as I opened the champagne. I poured two 
glasses and joined her outside. She leaned against the 
railing, looking down at the city around us. A light 
wind was blowing, and her blonde hair fluttered around 
her face. She took her glass and took a sip. 

"It's pretty." 

"Nothing like you." 

She turned around to face me, smiling. 

"Did you enjoy that tonight? All those men drooling 
over me?" 

"It was fun to watch. But you're more to me than that. 
Much more." 

"I know. I wouldn't have done this otherwise." 

She set her glass on the railing and reached between 
us, unzipping my slacks. 
 Her hand slipped inside, through the fly of my boxers, 
and found my dick. 

I bent to kiss her as she began to stroke me. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Nothing." 

She quickly had me erect, and she pulled my dick out 
into the night air. She reached for one of the balcony 
chairs and sat down, bending forward to take me into 
her mouth. I felt her swirling her tongue around the 
head a few times before withdrawing. Then she took a 
swig of champagne and bent back down. 

I grunted, grabbing at her head when the champagne 
bubbles bit at my dick. She swished it around her 
mouth, making the sensations even worse. She swallowed 
the champagne and bobbed rapidly over me. I looked 
around us, seeing only the lights of downtown. We were 
back lit, and anyone looking up here could see this. 

"The lights," I gasped. 

She withdrew far enough to answer me. 

"I don't care. Let them watch." 

She took another mouthful of champagne and resumed her 
attentions. I groaned, swaying on my feet at what she 
was doing. Then suddenly she stood up, hiked her dress 
up to her waist, and turned away from me, presenting 
her ass for my enjoyment as she braced herself against 
the railing. 

I didn't need any further encouragement. I fitted my 
erection between her buttocks, and I felt her reaching 
between her legs to guide me in. She was almost 
searingly hot after the cold champagne, and thoroughly 
wet and ready. I pushed myself into her up to the root, 
pressing against her tight cheerleader butt. She pushed 
back against me, moaning. 

I gave in to the experience, looking past Marianne to 
the darkened city below us. I thrust at her rapidly, 
feeling her fingers brushing against my balls as she 
played with herself. I kept my hands tight on her 
waist, guiding her movements. The musky scent of her 
sex rose up between us, hot and thick. 

She let out a soft cry, arching her back to open 
herself further to me. I continued plundering her 
wonderful ass, lost in the sensations. The hand between 
her legs suddenly came up over her neck, and she was 
pulling her dress over her head and letting it fall to 
the balcony floor. In a moment, she was naked except 
for her heels, completely exposed to anyone who wanted 
to look. And I was fully clothed except for the 
erection jutting out of my pants. 

"Fuck me!" she groaned. "Fuck me!" 

I redoubled my efforts, hammering her butt as she went 
back to playing with herself furiously. She cried out 
once, twice, and her legs buckled under her. I stabbed 
forward, almost lifting her in the air, and came like 
an out-of-control fire hose. I kept thrusting at her 
until she was hanging half over the balcony, big tits 
exposed to the entire city. 

She sank toward the ground, and I bent to pick her up. 
I carried her inside and laid her on the bed. I 
stripped out of my clothes as quickly as I could and 
joined her. She rolled against me, and I could feel her 
legs still quivering in the last vestiges of her 
climax. 

She giggled. 

"That was fun." 

"You have no shame, girl." 

"If you've got it, flaunt it." 

"I've noticed." 

She snuggled against me, and we lay together for a few 
minutes before she began kissing her way down my chest. 
She took my deflated dick in her mouth and set about 
restoring my erection. In about five minutes, she had 
succeeded, and I pulled her up above me. She planted 
her knees on either side of my waist and impaled 
herself on my dick. 

She spread herself open, trying to bottom out and get 
every bit of me into her. I thrust upwards, causing her 
to grind her sex against the base of my cock. She let 
out a throaty groan. I looked down, seeing her blonde 
twat split apart on my dick and the kitten tattoo 
watching us with a grin. Her belly ring twitched back 
and forth as she rode me, moving as her abdomen heaved. 

I was a long way from coming, so I concentrated on 
helping her along. When she got within range, I leaned 
up to suck on her nipples, nibbling and biting at her 
as best I could. I soon had them as wet and swollen as 
her pussy, which was doing its best to swallow me 
whole. 

Marianne began to move faster, shuddering and gripping 
my shoulders with tight claws. Her long blonde hair 
fell down around our heads, but she scarcely seemed to 
notice. She was lost in the agonizing climb toward 
orgasm, eyes shut tightly, jaw clenched, face twisted 
in effort. She rocked rapidly back and forth over me in 
an animal rhythm, as if she had surrendered all control 
of her body to her primal instincts. 

Her movements grew more rapid and spasmodic, and little 
feline cries, increasing in volume, escaped her mouth. 
Finally, with a piercing shriek, she dug her nails into 
my shoulders, and slammed herself down on me three or 
four times. She shuddered above me for a good five or 
ten seconds before collapsing into a quivering mass of 
flesh. 

I rolled her on her side, remaining inside her. She 
curled into my arms, still shaking and shuddering. I 
pulled a thigh up to my waist and moved slowly in and 
out of her. She whimpered, nuzzling my chin. 

"Nice?" 

"Nice?" she gasped. "My God, nice." 

I kissed her. 

"Mmm." 

"Don't stop," she whispered. "Make love to me all 
night. I'll sleep when we get back." 

I laughed softly. 

"I'll try." 

She rolled on her back, pulling me above her. I 
continued my slow, steady movements, just enjoying the 
sensations of being inside her. She wrapped herself 
around me, licking my ear and nibbling my earlobe. 

"Think of all those guys looking at me tonight," she 
moaned, "drooling over me. Think of them. I bet they're 
all fucking their wives now, or beating off, thinking 
about me. Thinking about my ass... about my tits... 
about my pussy. The one you're fucking right now. 
You're where they all want to be. You're fucking me... 
oh God, you're fucking me." She whimpered again, biting 
my ear. "Don't stop. Fuck me. Oh God, fuck me--" 

She shuddered under me, whimpering through her nose, 
clawing at my back. With a sharp cry, she thrust 
herself up at me, heaving in orgasm. I slowed down as 
she coasted to the end of it, kissing her softly, 
licking the sweat at her brow. She hugged me tightly to 
her. 

"I love you." 

"I love you too, Kitten." 

We made love on into the night, insatiable and 
inexhaustible. We did it a third time past midnight, 
going at it until we were both too sore to continue. 
When we finally ran out of gas at about one-thirty, we 
returned to the balcony and lay together under a 
blanket, enjoying one last glass of champagne. 

"Why can't we do this more often?" Marianne asked. 

"Make love until neither of us can stand up?" 

She giggled. 

"No. Go out alone together. Like a normal couple." 

"I can think of two reasons, both of which think you're 
at Ashley's right now." 

I felt her tense up next to me. 

"Steve?" 

"What?" 

"What if I told you that they don't know where I am?" 

I froze. 

"What?" 

She was silent for a few moments. 

"You said it was time. You're right. I've been trying 
to tell them for a few days. I couldn't bring myself to 
do it. So I just decided to force the issue. I didn't 
tell them where I was going tonight. When we get back 
tomorrow, then I'll have no choice but to tell them." 

Oh, shit. 


CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE 
------------------

Although I thought about driving straight back that 
night, I knew it would be pointless. I could have 
gotten Marianne home by three a.m. at the soonest, 
which was still far too late. And deep in my heart, I 
knew she was right. It was time to face the music. 

Marianne insisted that we make love again before 
leaving that morning, since, as she told me, "It might 
be a while before we can do it again." So we did, and I 
tried not to dwell on the distinct possibility that it 
might be the last time, period. 

We drove back in silence. She held my hand most of the 
drive. I dropped her off at her house just after nine 
and went home. 

As the reality of this development sank in, I tried to 
get my bearings. Was I about to get busted? Did the 
fact that Marianne was eighteen now make everything 
that went on before irrelevant? 

I had an MBA from Stanford, and I had taken a few 
elective law courses during B-school, but that was a 
good fifteen years ago, and I had forgotten 95% of it. 
I didn't think they had covered statutory rape anyway. 
I had no idea what the truth of the matter was, but I 
knew someone who would. 

I went up to my office and found his number. He 
answered on the third ring. 

"Hey, Brian, it's Steve. I'm sorry to bother you on a 
Sunday, but I'm in a bit of a bind." 

"No sweat. I was up. What's wrong?" 

"Before I tell you, this is attorney-client privilege." 

He laughed. 

"What happened? You rob a bank or something?" 

"No, but I may be in some trouble." 

"Okay. Shoot. What's the problem?" 

I took a deep breath. 

"I have been seeing a certain girl for about three 
months. The problem, basically, is that she only just 
turned eighteen." 

Silence. Then the sound of a chair creaking as Brian 
sat down. 

"Oh." 

"Right." 

"What I need to know is what this means." 

"You've been screwing her, I gather?" 

"Yes." 

"Who else knows?" 

"A couple of her friends, and her sister. But as far as 
I know, not her parents." 

"When did she turn eighteen?" 

"About three weeks ago." 

"Christ." He took a long breath. "What it means is that 
you're on the hook for statutory rape. But I gather you 
know that already." 

"It doesn't matter that she's eighteen now?" 

"She was seventeen when you fucked her?" 

"Yes." 

"No, it doesn't. But her parents don't know about 
this?" 

"Not yet. But they may figure it out as of this 
morning." 

Another long groan. 

"Okay. Until they find out, you may be all right, 
assuming this girl doesn't decide to get you busted 
herself." 

"She won't." 

"You don't know that, but let's not get into that now. 
In order to prosecute you, the DA has to establish 
somehow that you had sex with her when she was 
underage. Usually that's with the girl's testimony, but 
even if she won't cooperate, they may find a way to get 
you anyway. They might just serve a search warrant on 
your house and look for evidence that you slept with 
her. Now, I'm not advising that you do anything, mind 
you, since it would be unethical to suggest that you 
destroy evidence, but you should give that some 
thought." 

"Understood." 

"Is there anyone else who can testify that you had sex 
with this girl?" 

Shit. 

"Yes." 

He groaned again. 

"Are they likely to?" 

"I don't know. Probably not." 

"Okay. Right now, we're in limbo until something else 
happens. Ordinarily, I would suggest you get as far 
away from this girl as possible, but since she's 
eighteen now, that's not really an issue anymore. My 
advice is that you do whatever it takes to keep her on 
your side. That, and you think about that thing I just 
told you." 

"Okay. Thanks." 

"Call me the instant anything happens." 

As soon as I was off the phone, I set about sanitizing 
the house. What I hadn't bothered to tell Brian was 
that a police search might well turn up evidence of all 
the dope we had smoked, and I knew that if that 
happened, I would be in much deeper shit. 

Marianne had left a few odds and ends around the house, 
so I gathered those up and shoved them in the trash. 
All the sheets and towels went into the wash. I 
vacuumed the whole house repeatedly and furiously, then 
hosed off the patio. I found an empty bag of marijuana 
under the couch in the den and burned it in the 
barbecue. 

I was dragging a bag of trash into the garage when I 
realized someone was pounding on the front door. I 
briefly contemplated pretending I wasn't home, then 
decided I had best get this over with. 

I looked through the peephole. On the porch were 
Marianne and a beefy, heavyset man I took to be her 
father. Coming up the front walk behind them was a 
blonde-haired woman in her forties. 

I opened the door. Marianne had changed into jeans and 
a sweatshirt. Her arms were crossed under her breasts, 
and she looked up at me fearfully, face lined with 
tension. Her father seemed about to erupt like a 
volcano, and he took one look at me before lurching 
through the door for my throat. 

I jumped back, and Marianne leapt to intercept him. 

"No! Daddy, stop it!" 

He was a lot bigger than she was, but her interference 
was still enough to stop him in the doorway. Marianne's 
mother ran up behind him, grabbing his arm. 

"Charles, grow up! That isn't going to solve anything!" 

Charles and I glared at each other. His face was 
flushed bright red, and he panted through his nostrils. 
His wife pulled him back onto the porch, and he went, 
reluctantly. She got him behind her and finally looked 
at me. She looked me up and down once. 

"Just how old are you?" 

"Forty-one." 

She shook her head in disgust. 

"And you take advantage of a seventeen-year-old girl?" 

"Mom, I'm eighteen now, and I can do what I want!" 

She glanced at Marianne once before looking back at me. 

"You just stay away from my daughter, do you hear? I 
have half a mind to call the police right now." 

"If you call the police," Marianne snarled, "I will 
never speak to you again." 

I looked past the three of them, seeing that Hayley had 
come up the street with this delegation as well, and 
she watched us from the bottom of the driveway. 
Marianne's mother followed my gaze and blew up 
immediately. 

"Hayley, get back to the house right now! Get your butt 
inside before I have to thrash it!" 

Hayley turned and ran back down the street. Her mother 
glared at Marianne, and then looked back at me, shaking 
her head again. 

"You've got her wrapped right around your finger, don't 
you? Got her snowed into thinking she's a grown woman 
who doesn't have to mind anyone." 

"I never told her anything I didn't mean." 

"Mom, I love him. There's nothing you can do about this 
anymore." 

Her mother's eyes flared in outrage, and she slapped 
Marianne across the face. I jumped out the door to stop 
her, and for a moment, the four of us were struggling 
chaotically with each other until her mother extricated 
herself and her husband. 

Marianne had backed away from them, against me. She 
held her cheek and glared murderously at her mother. 
Marianne's parents glared back at us, and her mother 
finally caught her breath and spoke. 

"All right. If you don't think you need us anymore, 
then you go on and stay here. Let him take care of you 
for a change. See how you like it without a family." 

She backed up the front walk, pulling Marianne's father 
with her. He resisted for a few seconds, but then they 
were leaving. Marianne turned inside the house and 
stood in the foyer, rubbing her forehead. 

"Oh, God." 

I watched her parents leave and shut the door. Then I 
hugged Marianne, and she leaned against me. 

"Give them some time to calm down. When people are that 
upset, they sometimes say things they don't mean." 

She began to cry against my shoulder. I let her. There 
wasn't much else to do. 

Marianne went to lie down when she stopped crying, and 
I called Brian back to update him on the crisis. He 
grilled me on what I thought her parents would do, and 
I told him that--for now--it didn't seem like they 
would call the police. I felt a bit guilty hoping, and 
suspecting, that they were unsophisticated enough to 
think they had nothing on me now that Marianne was 
eighteen. Were that the case, I wasn't about to 
disabuse them of the misconception. 

At about noon, with Marianne still lying down in the 
bedroom, the doorbell rang. I looked out the peephole 
and nearly had a heart attack. 

I tore open the door. 

"Jesus Christ, Hayley, what are you doing here?" 

I looked past her up and down the street. No one was 
there. She stood nervously on the stoop. 

"I wanted to see Marianne." 

"Your folks don't know you're here?" 

"No. They think I don't know anything about you. I told 
them I didn't know what she was doing. So, can I come 
in?" 

I looked up the street again and then pulled her 
inside. 

"This is not the best time for you to be here. Marianne 
is eighteen; you are not." 

"I know, I don't want to do it or anything. I just want 
to see if she's okay." 

"I'm all right." 

Both of us spun around. Marianne stood halfway down the 
stairs, looking wrung out. She brushed her hair back 
over her head as she dropped down another few steps. 

"How are Mom and Dad?" 

"Postal. Totally. They've been screaming at each other 
all morning." 

"How did you get out?" 

"I told them I was going over to Brianna's. I think 
they kind of wanted me gone anyway." 

"Do you think they're going to do anything?" 

"I don't know. They were mostly arguing about whose 
fault it is." 

Marianne sat on the stairs, and Hayley went over to sit 
on the step below her. Marianne put her arms around 
Hayley and hugged her. Hayley hugged her back, though 
she still seemed flustered by all this. 

"Are you going to stay here now?" 

"Mom and Dad want me out. What else can I do?" 

"I don't know if they really want you out. They didn't 
sound like it was settled or anything." 

"I need to stay here for the time being. At least until 
they chill out." 

"What about your stuff?" 

"I don't know. I can't think about that now." 

"I could bring some stuff over." 

"I don't want you to get in the middle of this." 

"It's okay. I don't mind." 

"Don't get yourself in trouble because of me, short 
stuff." 

"I won't. I'll be careful." 

I looked at Hayley. 

"You'd better go. Don't push your luck any further." 

"Okay." She glanced at her sister. "I'll get some stuff 
together. I'll try to bring it over later." 

"Thanks." 

She gave Marianne another hug and left. When she was 
gone, I sat down next to Marianne and put my arm around 
her. 

"How you doing, Kitten?" 

"Shitty. But it's not your fault. I'll get through it." 

"Why don't you go lie down again?" 

"Only if you come with me." 

I led her back up to the bedroom, and we lay down 
together. She lay under my arm for a long time while I 
tried to think of what to do. 

Marianne propped herself up on my chest after we had 
been there about twenty minutes. 

"You know, if you look past the fact that we've only 
been going out a couple of months, and that that's 
pretty fast to be moving in together, there isn't 
anything wrong with this. We're both adults, right?" 

"You still have to go to school." 

"So I go to school. What are my folks going to do? Try 
to stop me from graduating? What *can* they do?" 

"They can call the police." 

"But I'm eighteen now." 

I explained about my conversation with Brian. 

"Oh. Well, I bet they won't. You heard what I told my 
mom. And I'd never do anything to get you in trouble. 
I'll just tell the police we didn't do it until my 
eighteenth birthday. That we knew what the law was and 
waited." 

"I don't know if they'll believe that." 

"But they won't *know,* right? If I refuse to help 
them, what can they do?" 

I thought about that for a moment. 

"Maybe nothing." 

She lay back down and hugged me. 

"So we're fine. Everything will be okay. Just let my 
parents calm down, and it will all go back to normal in 
a week or so." 

I wasn't so sure of that, but I didn't see what else to 
do. 

I made Marianne something to eat a bit later, but she 
stayed in the bedroom. Having nothing else to do, I 
went down to the den to watch Stanford and Notre Dame 
playing South Bend. 

At around three o'clock, the doorbell rang again. 
Thinking it was Hayley with a delivery of Marianne's 
things, I went straight to the door. 

It wasn't Hayley. 

Marianne's mother stood on the doorstep with her arms 
crossed. She still seemed upset, but she appeared to 
have collected herself somewhat. 

"Where is my daughter?" 

"Upstairs." She said nothing for a few seconds. "Would 
you like to come in?" 

She stepped into the living room, still radiating 
hostility. With the tension down a few notches from our 
earlier confrontation, I got a better look at her. I 
could see where Marianne got her looks, for her mother 
was still a very attractive woman. If Marianne looked 
this good at forty, she would be doing pretty well. 

And, the more I looked at her, the more something about 
her looked familiar, and it wasn't her resemblance to 
her daughters. It tickled the back of my brain like a 
word you want to use but can't quite place, the feeling 
vague enough that you're not sure it even exists. 

She looked around the room briefly, then brushed her 
blonde hair back from her face, over her head. The 
action gave me another sense of deja vu, though a 
different one--it was the sort of thing Marianne was 
always doing. She had probably picked the habit up from 
her mother. 

Before either of us said anything else, I saw Marianne 
coming down the stairs. Her mother straightened her 
back and faced her. 

"Honey, I want to tell you that I am sorry for slapping 
you. I am still very upset with you, but that was not 
acceptable behavior." 

"It's all right." 

"I would like you to come home now." 

Marianne glanced at me. 

"I'm not going to stop seeing Steve." 

"I realize that. But, given a choice between having you 
in the house and putting a stop to this relationship, I 
would prefer to have you home. I'm not ready to have 
you leave yet." 

Marianne appeared to think for a few seconds. 

"This isn't going to be one of those things where you 
pretend to let me do what I want but make me sorry for 
doing it?" 

Her mother sniffed. 

"I'm not going to pretend that I approve of this 
situation. What kind of example do you think you're 
setting for your sister?" 

A chill shot down my spine, and I resisted the urge to 
exchange a nervous look with Marianne. Whatever 
Marianne was thinking, she kept her eyes on her mother. 

"I'm not coming back if you're going to make a lot of 
nasty remarks about me all the time." 

Her mother looked down at the floor, shaking her head. 

"I don't know how I missed all of this. Why it didn't 
occur to me to wonder where all those new clothes were 
coming from." She looked up at me. "You bought her that 
car, didn't you? That didn't even occur to me until 
this afternoon." 

I didn't see any point in denying it. 

"Yes." 

"Who do you think you are, buying a car like that for a 
girl her age?" 

"It was a birthday present." 

"Well, she's giving it back." 

"Hey!" Marianne squawked. "No way! That car is mine!" 

"The car is legally hers," I said. "All the papers are 
in her name. I'm not sure there's anything to 'give 
back' now." 

Her mother pursed her lips tightly. 

"Convenient." She shook her head again. "All right. I 
guess you're keeping the car. But Marianne, I want you 
to come home now." 

"What about Dad?" 

"This isn't up to him. He's going to find a way to deal 
with it." 

"But he's going to glare at me a lot and give me the 
silent treatment, right?" 

Her mother began to snort through her nostrils. 

"Marianne, what do you want from us? You are sleeping 
with a man who is older than I am and behaving like his 
pampered mistress. You think I don't know what he's in 
this for?" 

Marianne screeched in outrage, but I was the first one 
to get out a coherent reaction. 

"Mrs. Mulcahey, I know you may find this hard to 
believe, but I do care about your daughter. I am not 
exploiting her." 

She glared right back at me. 

"Do I look stupid to you? Do I look blind? I know what 
my daughter looks like, dammit. You think I didn't go 
through the same thing at her age? I've spent the last 
four years chasing off a succession of boys who only 
wanted one thing from her, and damned if they weren't 
going to get it." 

Marianne came down the rest of the stairs and stepped 
up to her mother. 

"Mom, you can't spend the rest of your life trying to 
protect me. You have to start letting me make my own 
decisions." 

"I realize that. This is just not the decision I would 
prefer to have you start with." She took several long 
breaths. "However, it appears I have no choice here. If 
you come home, your father and I will do our best to be 
civil about this." 

Marianne looked at me. I nodded. 

"Go home. It's the best for everyone right now." 

She reached out and squeezed my hand. 

"Thanks." 

Her mother gave me a final, frustrated, look and 
stepped toward the door. Marianne ran upstairs to get 
her shoes. She gave me a kiss on the way out, and I saw 
her mother close her eyes and grit her teeth at the 
sight of it. 

Then they were gone. 


CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO 
------------------

As Marianne had predicted, things slowly went back to 
normal, at least at first. Her parents (especially her 
father) were not happy about our relationship, but 
appeared to have resigned themselves to it. Since they 
weren't happy, neither was Marianne, and as a result, 
she spent more and more time over at my place. 

The biggest victim in this confrontation, ironically, 
was not Marianne but Hayley. Her parents continued to 
think she knew nothing about the situation, and they 
appeared determined to keep it that way, instructing 
her that she was to have no contact with me whatsoever. 
They had only just allowed her to start dating, and she 
was now suffering under the discipline they were unable 
to direct at Marianne. 

"She's pissed at the entire world," Marianne told me 
one afternoon a few weeks later. "Me especially. She 
keeps bitching at Mom and Dad about how they're 
punishing her for what I did. Which is true. They're 
being totally unfair, but they're not interested in 
anyone else's opinions." 

We were lying in bed together after making love, her 
with her head on my chest, staring up at the ceiling 
and picking at her hair for split ends. I looked down 
the smooth length of her body, between her breasts, to 
the belly ring and kitten tattoo. 

"I can understand it. It sucks, but I can understand 
where they're coming from." 

"I know. I feel bad about this, but what I can do?" 

"Nothing. What do you think Hayley will do?" 

"She's not going to rat us out, about your sleeping 
with her. Not as far as I know. She keeps asking me how 
I could tell them and ruin everything. She cries about 
it all the time. I know she really misses you." 

I had been thinking that I should be grateful about 
Hayley being under house arrest, since it reduced my 
potential liability, but I was feeling worse and worse 
about what she was going through, since it was 
essentially my fault. Or at least a large chunk of it 
was. 

"Do you think you could you sneak her over here 
somehow? Would that help?" 

"Maybe. I don't know how. Mom and Dad want to know 
where she is like every second of every day. She has to 
call them whenever she goes anywhere." 

I brainstormed for a few moments. 

"I'm assuming they know nothing about the other girls 
on the squad." 

She scoffed. 

"As if. Jeez." 

"Hayley's a sophomore, right? She'll be eligible to try 
out for the varsity squad next spring?" 

"Right." 

"So if some of the other girls on the varsity squad 
invited her over, to practice or something, would your 
folks suspect anything?" 

She rolled over onto her chest, eyes lighting up. 

"No. Not a thing. Mom's so into our being cheerleaders. 
She was one herself. I bet she'd go along with that 
easy. Especially if I stayed home to distract them." 

"Would she check up on her?" 

"Maybe, but they'll play along. That should work 
great." 

"Okay. But, you know, we can't make a habit of this. We 
have to ease her out of this situation eventually, 
sooner rather than later, I think. It's a lot more 
risky now with us out in the open." 

Her face tightened up, and she looked down. She didn't 
say anything for a few moments. 

"There isn't any way we can keep her part of this? 
Somehow?" 

"Is that what you want?" 

She nodded slowly. 

"It's what I'd like. I don't know how, but could you 
try to think of something?" 

"When is her sixteenth birthday?" 

"March." 

"Until she turns eighteen, I don't know what we can 
do." 

She looked up at me forlornly. 

"There has to be something. There just has to be." 

Marianne called me the next day at work and explained 
what she and Hayley had set up. Giselle and Ashley had 
called Marianne's mother to ask if Hayley could come 
over to talk about trying out for varsity that spring, 
and she had agreed. They were going to hang around 
Ashley's in case Mrs. Mulcahey called to check on 
Hayley. Marianne would stay home, and Hayley would come 
over to my house. 

She arrived just after I got home, coming straight into 
my arms to hug me. I held her, caressing her back 
slowly. 

"I missed you." 

"I missed you too, Little Kit." 

"This sucks so hard. Please tell me I can keep seeing 
you. Please. I'll die if you won't let me keep seeing 
you." 

"It's going to be hard. You know this is against the 
law." 

"I don't care. I love you." 

"Unfortunately, that doesn't help us." 

"Can't you think of something?" 

"Marianne and I are working on it." 

She squeezed me tightly, whimpering in distress. I 
reached down and picked her up, carrying her up to the 
bedroom. She lay quietly as I undressed her, removing 
her jeans and baby tee shirt. When I had her down to 
bra and panties, I sat back to look at her. She was as 
beautiful as her sister was, just slightly less 
developed. They were alike enough that I had a hard 
time separating what I felt for them, and if I wasn't 
completely sure I loved Hayley too, I knew I cared 
about her happiness and did not want her to get hurt, 
whatever happened with the rest of this. 

She pulled me down to kiss her, and we necked and 
fondled each other for a few minutes. When she was 
naked, I rolled her on her stomach to inspect the cat 
tattoo on her butt, now largely healed. 

"Do you like it?" 

"It's very cute. Just like you." 

"A little kit." 

"Yep." 

She rolled back over and slipped her arms around my 
neck. 

"Marianne's your kitten. I'm your little kitten." 

I kissed her softly. 

"Right." 

"I love you so much." 

I looked down into her pretty blue eyes, only a shade 
or two lighter than that lapis bracelet she still wore 
all the time. I brushed the blonde hair back from her 
face. 

"I love you, too, Little Kit." 

I went back to kissing her slowly, playing with her 
firm breasts until I had her nipples standing straight 
out from her chest. I slid down and took one in my 
mouth, reaching down with my left hand to stroke 
between her thighs. She squirmed as I explored her sex, 
caressing her gently as I suckled her breasts. She 
writhed on the bed under me, making those little 
whimpering noises she always made. 

When I felt her getting wet, felt a little squirt of 
moisture emerge onto my fingers, I lowered myself the 
rest of the way. She reached down for my hands, and I 
opened her up with a gentle lick. I felt the little bud 
of her clitoris with the tip of my tongue, wiggling 
back and forth over it. I dipped down, wetting myself 
with her fluids, tasting her. I kept up that slow, 
steady, circular motion until she was rolling her sex 
at my face, moaning softly as if she were in pain. I 
sped my movements now, matching each roll of her hips. 
Her abdomen began to twitch, her hands clamped down on 
mine, and a moment later she was shivering in orgasm 
under me. I kept up my attentions until she let out a 
sharp cry and pushed me away. 

I crawled up beside her, taking her in my arms, feeling 
the tremors of climax still coursing through her body. 
She came back to life a few moments later, descending 
toward my erection and taking it deeply into her mouth. 
She gripped the base tightly and bobbed over me, 
swirling her tongue around and around the head. I 
gripped her blonde hair in my hands, closing my eyes, 
concentrating on what she was doing. 

I could stand it for only a few minutes, and I finally 
pulled her off. She lay on her back beside me, opening 
herself for my invasion. I was inside her in a moment, 
and she rose off the bed, wrapping herself around me, 
pulling herself up to make fulcrum of her sex as she 
often did. We rocked together, grinding against one 
another. She bit at my shoulder, whimpering softly. 

She clung to me, pressing her firm little body against 
me. Her hips rocked with my thrusts, and I struggled to 
hold myself off the bed with my arms. Finally, I leaned 
back, kneeling and sitting on my feet, bringing her up 
into my lap. She pulled my mouth to hers, kissing me 
deeply. She began shudder as she hung suspended on my 
erection. She bit my tongue involuntarily, and another 
orgasm shivered through her body. 

We thrashed around on the bed like that for a good ten 
minutes. I held myself off, knowing that she had 
several weeks of denial to make up for, and only when 
she had come half a dozen times probably, and lay back 
exhausted on the bed, surrendering to me, did I allow 
myself to come inside her. A few deliberate thrusts 
were all it took, and she held me on top of her, not 
letting me roll off for nearly a minute. 

We lay quietly together afterward. I played with her 
hair, inspecting the various shades of blonde from her 
neck to her ears. She let out one of her contended 
little giggles and hugged me. 

"How you doing?" 

"Great." 

"When are you supposed to be back?" 

She glanced at the clock. 

"Maybe an hour. So we have plenty of time." 

She sat up beside me and pulled her hair around behind 
her shoulders. 

"Steve, I don't want to get you in trouble. I know this 
is dangerous. But I can't help that I love you." 

"I know." 

"If there's anything we can do to keep seeing each 
other, will you promise me you'll do it?" 

"I'll do my best. That's all I can tell you. I don't 
want to hurt you and Marianne. That's all I really care 
about." 

She smiled. 

"Thanks." 

We made love a second time, and she went home around 
seven. Marianne came over about half an hour later, and 
we lay together on the couch in the den. 

"Thanks. That really helped." 

"How is she?" 

"A lot happier than she's been since we came out. When 
I left, she was lying on her bed with a big smile on 
her face. A real post-you-know-what glow." 

"I'm glad she's happy. But I don't know where we go 
from here." 

Marianne hugged me. 

"I had an idea. It's... it's an extreme idea, but it's 
the only thing I can think of." 

"What?" 

"I'm thinking you may not want to know the details of 
this. At least until I get a few things ironed out. And 
maybe not even then." 

"Uh-oh. It's nothing illegal?" 

"I don't think so." 

"You don't *think* so?" 

"It's more ugly than illegal." 

I struggled with myself for a moment or two. 

"But it might be illegal?" 

"I'm not a lawyer. I don't know." 

"Marianne--" 

She sat up next to me, looking hard into my eyes. 

"Steve, do you trust me?" 

Good God, what a question. 

"Yes." 

"Do you believe that I would never do anything to hurt 
you or Hayley? That I would never do anything that 
would put us in danger of being separated?" 

"Yes, but--" 

"Then let me do this. It's the only way." 

"Are people going to get hurt?" 

"People will get hurt if we do nothing. Hayley will be 
devastated if she has to stop seeing you. And I don't 
want to boot her out of this just for our own 
convenience. You do recognize that she's getting hurt 
because we came out of the closet for our own sakes, 
don't you? She's worse off now that we're safe. We're 
hurting her to benefit ourselves. We owe it to her to 
do what we can to help her." 

I gritted my teeth. She had a point. 

She took my face in her hands. 

"Steve, I'll ask you again. Do you trust me?" 

I sighed. 

"Yes. Do what you have to, I guess." 

She kissed me. 

"Thank you. This won't be easy, but we'll be better off 
afterwards." 

I didn't see either of them for a couple of days, 
during which I stewed over the situation and tried to 
fathom what on earth Marianne was up to. It wasn't that 
I didn't trust her; I just wasn't sure she knew what 
she was doing. No matter how many times I turned the 
problem over in my head, I could not see a solution. 
How in God's name was she going to get her parents to 
consent to my sleeping with Hayley, if indeed that was 
what she was doing? 

Maybe she wasn't trying to secure their consent, but 
just trying to get them to back off? But she had talked 
about it like it was a permanent solution to the 
problem, as if we could go back to being one happy trio 
afterwards with no worries about the legalities of it. 
None of it made sense. 

Marianne and I went out for dinner on Friday night, and 
I could sense the tension in her as soon as she walked 
through the door. 

"Anything you want to talk about?" I asked her once we 
were on our way to the restaurant. 

"No. I'm sorry, babe, but I think you have to wait 
until it's over." 

"But it's happening?" 

"Yes. This weekend probably." 

"Do I need to call my lawyer to make sure he's on 
call?" 

She shook her head. 

"No. This won't involve you no matter what happens. It 
will either work or it won't, but if it doesn't, it 
won't implicate you at all." 

"What about you?" 

"No. I'm not the one doing this. You'll see. Please be 
patient." 

We ate a slow, quiet dinner together and tried to avoid 
the issue hanging over our heads. We returned to the 
house around ten o'clock and drifted toward the 
bedroom. This had been a casual night out, and Marianne 
wore only jeans and one of her cropped spaghetti-strap 
T-shirts. I took her in my arms and kissed her, then 
picked her up and carried her to the bed. 

She kept her arms around my neck and pulled me down on 
top of her. We necked and fondled each other for a few 
minutes, losing most of our clothes in the process. I 
began by kissing and nibbling most of her sensitive 
spots, licking around the underside of her breasts, 
running my tongue down to her navel, giving the kitten 
tat a quick kiss before descending between her thighs. 
She was already quite wet when I got there, and I had 
to lick at her vigorously before I could generate much 
friction. I brought her to two quick orgasms before she 
pushed me off. 

When she had caught her breath, she slid down to take 
me in her mouth. She sucked on me slowly, licking and 
kissing the shaft and head. She ran the tip of her 
tongue around the head a few times before taking most 
of it into her mouth, pushing it to the back of her 
throat until her gag reflex forced it out. She did that 
a few times, then began bobbing rapidly over me. She 
kept up this steady suction, and I stopped her after 
few minutes when I was getting close. 

"Could I get you off like this?" 

"You don't want to have sex?" 

"It's just like I like doing it, and I haven't done it 
in a while. We could make love later." 

"Okay. Go for it." 

She went back to work, sucking rapidly on the head with 
her lips and tongue. Under such eager attentions, I 
reached the brink rather quickly. Marianne gave my 
balls a gentle squeeze when she felt me beginning to 
come, then pushed me to the back of her mouth to 
swallow up my cum as it spurted forth. She continued 
sucking on me until my erection began to subside, then 
climbed up to lie beside me. 

"Happy?" I managed. 

She giggled, hugging me. 

"Yep. You?" 

I nodded weakly, returning the hug. 

We made love in earnest about half an hour later. 
Afterward, Marianne lay beside me for a few minutes 
before sitting back and pushing her hair over her head. 

"You need to go?" 

"No. I can spend the night. It's not a problem." 

"Your mother doesn't care?" 

"It's more that she didn't really object when I told 
her I was going to do it." 

"Have they noticed your belly ring yet?" 

"Yes. But under the circumstances, it's not their 
biggest concern." 

"And what is?" 

"That their little girl has finally discovered sex." 

That gave me pause. 

"You mean they think--" 

She grinned, nodding. 

"Mom did. At first. She was like, 'I wanted your first 
time to be something more special than this,' and I had 
to go, 'Um, Mom, Steve wasn't my first.' She got kind 
of miffed about that." 

"How much did you tell her?" 

"Nothing. She didn't want to know any more." 

"She never figured out what you were doing before?" 

"No. Like I told you, they didn't pay that much 
attention to what I did, never mind what she said about 
having to beat the boys off with a stick. That's is why 
she's being so hard on Hayley. I think she wants to 
correct her 'mistakes' with me." 

I pulled her back, and she crawled above me, letting 
her hair and big tits hang down in my face. I kissed 
each nipple once and then pulled her mouth to mine. 

"I wouldn't characterize you as a mistake." 

She giggled, but I stifled it with a tongue. 

We slept in, and I didn't really wake up until the 
phone rang at about nine-thirty. I fumbled for it on 
the nightstand, knocking a few things over before 
getting a good grip on the handset. 

"Hello?" 

"Steve? It's Tiffany." 

"Oh. Hi. What's up?" 

"Not much. Marianne is there, right?" 

"Yeah." 

"Can I talk to her?" 

"Hold on." 

Marianne had awoken beside me, and sat up against the 
headboard. She took the phone and listened, running her 
fingers through her hair as Tiffany told her something. 
I could hear Tiffany's voice but not what she was 
saying, and whatever it was she had called about took 
several minutes to explain. Marianne just nodded, and 
said "okay" a few times, and I slowly realized what 
this probably involved. 

Marianne finally said, "Okay. Let me know if anything 
else happens," and hung up. She dropped the phone and 
stared blankly at the opposite wall until I nudged her. 

"Kitten?" 

She looked over at me slowly. 

"It's done. I may burn in Hell for this, but it's 
done." 


CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE 
--------------------

I was too stunned to say anything, and I lay there 
staring at her until she was ready to explain what had 
happened. 

She rolled over toward me, taking my hand in hers. 

"I need to tell you a story first, so you understand." 

"Okay." 

"This happened about five years ago, when I was 
thirteen and Hayley was ten. Our parents have never 
really been happy together, at least not as long as I 
can remember. I didn't really understand everything 
until recently, until I got some perspective by 
watching my friends' parents and seeing how different 
things were with them. I don't think my folks have 
loved each other for a long time. I know they're 
staying together for my sake and Hayley's. But five 
years ago, they almost got divorced." 

She paused, sighing and looking down at the bed. 

"This isn't easy to talk about. I'm sorry." 

"It's all right. Take your time." 

"My folks were fighting a lot back then. Every dinner 
seemed to end in an argument and with me and Hayley 
hiding in our room together. I spent a lot of time 
holding Hayley while she cried and asked me what was 
going on. I didn't know what to tell her. I mean, I was 
only thirteen. I had no idea why our folks were 
fighting so much. 

"Very slowly, it dawned on me that my mother was 
accusing my dad of cheating on her. He had been gone a 
lot, always working late. I thought I understood it, 
but at the same time, I didn't. I didn't know anything 
about sex beyond the basics then, and this book my Mom 
gave me about 'the facts of life,' you know, always 
talked about husbands and wives. As if only married 
people had sex. So I didn't know how my dad could be 
doing it with another woman. I guess I thought that 
only happened on TV. 

"Anyway. One day, everything blew up. My mom had gone 
to the grocery store and caught my dad screwing some 
sixteen-year-old checkout girl in his office. 

Everyone was screaming at each other, and Hayley and I 
hid in our closet crying. My dad left and moved into an 
apartment, but all my Mom would say was that he 
couldn't live with us right now. She wouldn't tell me 
what had happened, even though she had to know that I 
had heard her yelling at him, you know 'I caught you 
fucking her' and all. The neighbors probably heard her. 
But she just acted like me and Hayley didn't know what 
was going on. She sighed again and didn't say anything 
for nearly a minute. 

"One afternoon, about a month after my Dad moved out, 
we got excused early from school because of a fire in 
the cafeteria. It wasn't anything big, but they sent 
everyone home early just to be safe. So Hayley and I 
get home at about two o'clock, when we usually got back 
around three-thirty. And when we get back, there's this 
strange car in the driveway. We go inside, and I can 
hear something going on in my parent's bedroom." 

"Oh, jeez." 

"Yeah. Right. But wait. See, I heard it first, but 
Hayley was right there with me. I knew somehow, I was 
old enough by then to know what must be going on, you 
know, because I could hear my mother moaning and 
talking to someone. But Hayley is just ten, and she 
thinks Mom is hurt or something. So she goes running 
for the bedroom before I can stop her. And we both 
burst in there together." 

"Oh, my God. And she was in bed with someone?" 

"Yes. But, you see, this is the thing." She paused 
again, looking up from the bed. "It wasn't another man. 
It was a woman she worked with." 

My jaw dropped. 

"Oh, Jesus. What happened?" 

"All of us freaked out at once. My mom and her friend 
flew apart and pulled the sheets over themselves. 
Hayley starts crying. She doesn't even know what is 
going on, but she starts crying anyway. I grab her and 
pull her out, back to our room. 

"I'm probably the only one who is halfway stable, and I 
try to calm her down, but she's just going crazy, you 
know? Wanting to know why Mom is naked with this other 
woman and why Dad is gone. Mom comes in a few seconds 
later gone completely postal about why we're home so 
early and that we don't understand what was going on. I 
don't even remember much of what happened after that. 
Just that we were all crying and yelling at each 
other." 

"What happened?" 

"When Mom finally calms down, she tries to tell us that 
we can't tell Dad about what we saw. I think now she 
was worried about the custody issues if they got 
divorced, you know? She tried to make us swear to keep 
it a secret. But I wouldn't. I told her I was going to 
tell Dad unless they got back together." 

"And they did?" 

"I don't know if it was because of what I said, but 
yeah. They were in counseling for a while, and Hayley 
and I went along. The counselor got us to talk about 
what had happened, and gradually I think we found a way 
to deal with it. We just don't talk about those days 
now, and I think my folks are in this kind of armed 
truce. I have a feeling that they're still cheating on 
each other, but they decided to stay together for the 
sake of me and Hayley." 

"Your mother is a lesbian?" 

She nodded. 

"I don't know if I inherited that, or what. I wonder 
about it sometimes. Not that it really matters, I 
guess. But, yeah, she is. I pretty much know that for 
sure now." 

As this story gradually sank in, I suddenly remembered 
how we had gotten to this point. 

"Okay. I'm glad you can share all this with me. But 
what's the point here?" 

She pursed her lips and took a deep breath. 

"Steve, you know I love you." 

"Yes." 

"And I want you to know I did this because I love you. 
Because I love you, and I love Hayley, and this was the 
only way I could think of to make it work." 

I swallowed hard. 

"Go on." 

"At various times in the last year or so, I have 
noticed both my father and my mother giving Tiffany a 
certain amount of a certain type of attention." 

Everything dawned on me in a flood. 

"Oh, my God." 

"And, since that night last month, Tiffany has gotten 
seriously into being my fuck toy. Even if we haven't 
done anything since then. Just little things she says 
and does around me. When I was thinking about what to 
do, somehow this idea came to me. I asked Tiffany if 
she would do it for me, and she said she would." 

All I could do was lie there and listen to her, aghast. 

"Wednesday afternoon, when Hayley and I were at 
cheerleading practice, Tiffany skipped out and came 
over here to my house. She pretended she was dropping 
something off for me, but she stayed to talk to my Mom. 
She acted like she had been jonesing for her for a 
while, and my Mom bought it. She did the same thing 
with my Dad last night at work. That was what she just 
called about." 

"Why?" I gasped. 

"Because Tiffany is only seventeen. That means that my 
Mom and Dad are now just as guilty as you are. They 
can't do anything about Hayley because they could get 
busted too." 

"Did she *tell* them this?" 

"No. But she did joke around with them about it being 
statutory rape. Just so they get the point. She said my 
Dad kind of freaked afterward, wanting to know if she 
was going to say anything to anyone. She said she might 
tell me if he got weird about it." 

I stared blankly across the room as the full scope of 
what Marianne had done unfolded in my head. She reached 
out and hugged me. 

"I did it for us. It was the only way." 

I rolled on my back and stared at the ceiling. 

"I need to think about this." 

She sat up, jaw vibrating softly. 

"Are you mad?" 

"I'm in shock. I don't know what I am." 

"But everything is okay now. They can't stop Hayley 
from seeing you now." 

"You would really do that? Blackmail your own parents?" 

"Only because they're trying to break us all up. I'll 
only do it if they make me." 

She threw herself across my chest, beginning to cry. 

"Steve, please! Don't be mad at me. Think about how it 
was. Hayley was going to cut out of this completely. 
Now she can come back like it was before." 

"I can't be a party to this." 

"You aren't! You don't have to do anything! This is 
between me and Tiffany and my folks." 

I closed my eyes and sighed, listening to Marianne 
sobbing against my shoulder. I put my arms around her 
and held her. She continued crying for several minutes. 

"Kitten. Listen." 

She withdrew a little, eyes red, and looked up at me. I 
brushed the tears from her cheeks and kissed her nose. 

"I love you. That has not changed. But you need to give 
me some time to deal with this." 

"Okay." 

"You said yourself that this was an extreme solution. 
You can't expect me to swallow all of this in one 
gulp." 

She nodded weakly. 

"I know. Should I go?" 

"That might be best. Just for now." 

She sat up, pushing her hair back over her head and 
wiping her nose. Then she looked back down at me sadly. 

"Are we breaking up?" 

That sent a stab through my gut, and I pulled her back 
down to me. 

"No. We are not breaking up. I just need a little time 
to absorb all this." 

"Okay. I love you." 

"I love you too, Kitten." 

She got up and got dressed. We gave each other a final 
hug, and she left. 

I don't know how long I lay in bed staring at the 
ceiling. If I had been walking a tightrope with 
Marianne and Hayley before, I now on a knife-edge. I 
just shook my head at what Marianne had done. However 
much she tried to act like an adult around me, she was 
still only eighteen. Only a teenager could have come up 
with a scheme like this and thought it would work. What 
did she expect to have to do? Tell her parents, "Let 
Hayley keep screwing Steve or I'll tell everyone you 
screwed my friend?" She would be tossing a lit match 
into a barrel of gasoline. *Anything* could happen. 

I didn't see any of them for a few days while I tried 
to get my mind around this. By the middle of the next 
week, I still didn't know what to do, but I began to 
feel as if the time for ruminating over this was coming 
to an end. I realized that I needed to know more about 
this. I wanted to talk to Marianne, but my emotions 
were still in too much turmoil. She would probably 
start crying again, or want to go straight to bed, 
neither of which would go very far toward clearing my 
thought processes. 

So I called someone else. It took some work to track 
down her number, but I found her Thursday afternoon. 
After a brief conversation, she agreed to come over 
that night. 

I was just finishing dinner when she showed up. 

"Hi." 

"Thanks for coming over." 

"I'm guessing this isn't another sex slave session you 
have in mind here." 

"No. I need to talk to you about a few things." 

I showed Tiffany into the den, and she sat on the 
couch. I took the spot at the far end. 

"Marianne's folks, right?" 

"Right. I'm not passing judgment on any of what 
happened, okay? I know you had your own reasons for 
going along with the idea. I'm just trying to get a 
handle on it." 

She nodded. 

"Okay. What do you want to know?" 

"You don't have to go into a lot of detail, but I'd 
just like to know what happened." 

She pulled her feet up under her butt and leaned 
against the back of the couch, facing me. 

"Well, there's not much to tell. Marianne called me 
last week telling me she needed to ask me a big favor. 
I sort of flirted with her about it, you know, 'Are you 
asking me as your friend or ordering me as your slave?' 
So she told me what she had in mind. I thought it 
sounded pretty crazy, but I told her that if she wanted 
me to do it, I would. So, last week, I went by her 
house like I was coming over to see her. I spent some 
time talking to her mom and kind of flirting with her. 

"She tried to play it cool at first, but once I touched 
her the first time, I was sort of pretending to arrange 
her hair like I was suggesting she change it somehow, 
she pretty much lost it. And afterward, she got all 
guilty and upset, telling me I couldn't tell Marianne 
and that it could never happen again and that I had to 
understand that she had a 'special understanding' with 
her husband. All that kind of shit, you know?" 

"But that clearly wasn't her first time?" 

"Oh, no. She really knew what she was doing. I mean, 
the sex was great. When it came to, you know, eating 
me, she was the best I've had by far. No offense." 

"None taken." 

"It was only afterward that she got all weird about 
it." 

"What about her father?" 

She laughed. 

"I told you how he grabbed my butt once, right?" 

"Yes." 

"He took a lot less work than she did. I just went by 
the store where he works, flirted with him a little, 
then asked to see his office. And he came on to me 
before I did anything else." 

"How was it?" 

"Shit. I mean it. Worse than the first guy I slept 
with, which I didn't think could possibly have been any 
worse. It was over in less than a minute, you know? I 
hardly had time to get wet enough to do it. I teased 
him about it afterward, and he completely freaked out, 
saying he never did stuff like this before and I 
couldn't tell anybody and all, especially Marianne. I 
made fun of him, and turned into this little boy 
almost, getting all red and embarrassed. I had a good 
laugh about it when I got home." 

"And neither of them had a clue what you were really 
doing?" 

"Not as far as I know. Her dad, shit, I have no problem 
with fucking with him over this. He's a toad. But her 
Mom..." 

She sighed. 

"I do feel bad about her. There was something weird 
going on in her head while we were doing it. I don't 
know what it was, but it was something. I would have a 
tough time getting her busted over what we did. I do 
like her. She can be pretty cool when she's not gone 
all mother-y." 

"Huh." 

"So what are you going to do now?" 

"I don't know. I need to think about this some more." 

Tiffany went home, and I tried to digest what she had 
told me. No solutions presented themselves that night. 
But the next day at work, I decided that I could not 
let this situation fester any longer. I had to shoulder 
my responsibility to unravel this mess. And I could see 
only one way of doing it. 

I knew, from having seen a little office notepad 
Marianne had had with her once, where her mother 
worked. I got the number from information, and after 
gathering my courage for a few minutes, made the call. 

"Elizabeth Mulcahey." 

"Mrs. Mulcahey, this is Steve Chandler." 

She didn't respond for a few seconds. 

"What do you want?" she asked icily. 

"I would like to have lunch with you this afternoon. 
There are some things we need to say to each other." 

"I have nothing to say to you." 

"Well, I have a great deal I need to say to you. And I 
think you will want to hear this once you see what it 
is." 

"Which is what?" 

"It's not something we can discuss over the phone." 

"I am a busy woman, Mr. Chandler. I do not have time to 
listen to whatever snow job you want to put over on 
me." 

"This isn't a snow job. There are just certain things I 
think you need to know about." 

I could almost hear her fuming over the phone. 

"All right. I suppose I have no choice. Do you know 
where I am?" 

"Yes. I've been over to that office park a few times." 

"There is a little sandwich shop on the first floor of 
my building. I will be there at noon." 

"Fine." 

She hung up. 

I got to the sandwich shop at eleven-fifty and ordered 
a turkey and swiss on rye. I sat down in the corner of 
the patio to wait. At a few minutes before twelve, I 
saw Elizabeth Mulcahey coming around the building from 
the main entrance. She gave me a steely glare as she 
approached. Again, there was that odd twinge of 
familiarity about her, though I was still unable to 
place it. 

"Hello." 

"Hello," I said. "Why don't you get your lunch first?" 

She nodded and went inside, returning a few minutes 
later with a salad and an iced tea. 

"All right. Say what you have to say." 

I took a deep breath and began. 

"What I'm about to tell you is not going to make you 
happy. It will probably make you very, very unhappy, 
but I have been put into a situation where I see no 
other choice but to tell you. The alternative is too 
precarious and ugly for me to be comfortable about 
allowing it to continue." 

I had to look away from her for a moment. 

"I know about you and Tiffany. What happened between 
the two of you was part of a prearranged plan between 
her and Marianne." I looked back at her now, seeing her 
face gone white. "I did not find out about it until 
afterward. Tiffany has also slept with your husband. 
Marianne thought this would provide her with something 
to hold over your heads." 

Elizabeth turned away from me, closing her eyes 
tightly. I watched her swallow hard and try to compose 
herself. She took a ragged breath. 

"Why? She had you. What else did she want?" 

I couldn't answer her for a few seconds, and I had to 
force the words out of my mouth. 

"Because she was afraid of what would happen if you 
found out about Hayley." 

Her jaw dropped and her eyes bulged in their sockets. 
She stared at me in horror, looking for anything that 
would deny the picture I had just put in her head. I 
just looked back at her. 

Then she slapped me, hard enough to make the other 
customers turn and stare at us. She did it again, and I 
grabbed her hand. She struggled with me, trying to pull 
free, and I let go of her after a second or two. She 
fell back into her chair, pushing it away from the 
table as she gasped for breath. 

"You... you... how could you?" 

I had to tear my eyes away from her. 

"It's not something I'm particularly proud of. Marianne 
brought her into this, and she wants her to continue 
being a part of it. When she told you about us, I 
thought it would be enough to ease Hayley out. But 
apparently neither of them wanted that. I don't know 
whether it's just adolescent infatuation, but Hayley 
has convinced herself that she loves me, and Marianne 
does not want to force her out. I know about your 
husband's history, and I know that may have something 
to do with this." 

"And now you're going to blackmail me with what I did 
with that girl so you can continue doing this?" 

"I'm not trying to blackmail you. I'm trying to get you 
to see the situation that Marianne has created." 

I looked back at her now, seeing her wiping tears out 
of her eyes. She looked away from me, across the front 
lawn of the office park. 

"Does she know you're here?" 

"No. She thought she could just set this up and then 
dump it on you if you ever found out about Hayley. But 
I decided I could not let her try to blackmail her own 
parents." 

She laughed bitterly. 

"Oh, you're just a wellspring of morality and ethics, 
aren't you?" 

Something about the sneer she shot at me, the precise 
angle to the curve of her lips, stabbed through my gut 
with a twinge of long-forgotten adolescent angst. I had 
seen that look before (On her? On someone else?), but 
it was just out of reach. The memory was like a puff of 
smoke, too intangible to grasp. 

"I don't pretend to be perfect. I'm just trying to 
straighten this out with the fewest number of people 
getting hurt." 

"And what do you want me to do?" 

"Think about where we are. If Hayley has a fit about 
this and tells someone, or you turn me in, what you and 
your husband did will probably come out too. I don't 
think that the county Department of Child Services will 
look very kindly on this situation. I don't think 
Marianne has thought this through, but *all* of us 
could get busted for this, including her. She's 
eighteen now, and they might just charge her with 
aiding and abetting statutory rape. So all of us get 
arrested, and Hayley gets taken out of your house and 
put in foster care. That is not an improvement on this 
situation." 

She swallowed hard. 

"You are asking me... to allow--" and she shot these 
words at me like daggers "--my fifteen-year-old 
daughter... to continue sleeping with a man who is 
older than I am." 

"I'm not asking you to do anything. I just want you to 
appreciate the reality of it." 

"So I do nothing, and you get to go on screwing my 
daughters." 

"And you get to continue having a halfway-normal 
relationship with them, and you get to continue 
whatever arrangement it is you've worked out with your 
husband." 

"Very nice for you." 

I took a sip of my drink to clear my throat. 

"I would like you to recognize something. Before you 
showed up here, you knew about none of this. I could 
have let it continue the way it had, sneaking around 
and pretending Hayley hardly knew me. I could have 
tried some other method to end this thing with her and 
risk having Marianne dump what she had done on your 
heads. 

"Instead, I came here and confessed to having sex with 
your daughter. Do you recognize how far out my neck is 
here? What a risk I am taking with this conversation? I 
am doing it because I care about Hayley and Marianne. I 
care about their emotional and mental health. I could 
not allow Marianne to do something she would regret the 
rest of her life." 

"You act as if she forced you into doing what you did 
with Hayley." 

"No. She didn't. But no one forced you to sleep with 
Tiffany either." 

She closed her eyes and shook her head. 

"I know why Marianne picked her for this. She couldn't 
have been blind to how I was acting around her. But she 
doesn't know everything. Tiffany... when I was 
Marianne's age, long before I truly realized who I was, 
there was a girl I knew who was a lot like her. I had 
an enormous crush on her for a long time. It wasn't 
anything I understood until later. 

"She was straight, so there was no chance of anything 
happening even if I had understood what I was really 
feeling. And when Marianne became friends with Tiffany, 
all this baggage from my childhood came welling back 
up, all the uncertainty and misery I had struggled 
with, all the unrequited emotions I had had for this 
girl. Everything I thought I had dealt with in the past 
few years. I'm sure Marianne sensed some of this, since 
she knows enough about me. So when Tiffany came on to 
me last week, it was a like a dam broke. I don't think 
I could have stopped had there been a gun to my head." 

I nodded slowly. 

"For what it's worth, I've talked to Tiffany about 
this. It wasn't a callous seduction on her part. She 
feels bad about it. I think she does like you on some 
level." 

"For what little that's worth now," she said angrily. 

"I want to tell you something that I have never told 
Marianne. I was never sure how she would react to it. 
It was something similar to what you've just told me. 
When I was in high school, there was a girl I knew, a 
beautiful blonde cheerleader like Marianne. For 
whatever reason, I developed a crush on her like you 
did with that girl. But I was a nobody, a random 
pothead who hung out with the other losers.

"So instead of just ignoring me, she toyed with me for 
nearly a month, pretending to flirt with me and then 
embarrassing me. The one time I got up enough courage 
to ask her out, she pretended to agree. And when I 
showed up that night, she had gotten the football team 
to lie in wait for me. They beat the crap out of me and 
then threw me in a dumpster behind the local grocery 
store, full of rotting garbage. I had to limp all the 
way home smelling like an open grave." 

For some reason Elizabeth's face had gone completely 
white, and she stared at me as if she had seen a ghost. 
But I went on with my story. 

"And when I met Marianne, that whole awful experience 
came back to me. Except that she's nothing like that 
girl beyond the way she looks. I won't pretend that the 
age difference isn't some level of turn-on for me. But 
that is why. Because girls like Marianne treated me 
like shit when I was her age." 

The shock on Elizabeth's face finally penetrated my 
retrospection. She gasped for breath as she stared at 
me. 

"What's wrong?" 

"Where did you go to high school?" 

That was it, the one little trigger I needed. Something 
snapped in my head, and everything rushed back into me 
in a flood. I suddenly realized why she seemed so 
damned familiar. 

The two us stared at each other as if we had never met. 
Except, of course, we had. 

"My maiden name was Dunbar," she said slowly. "And you 
used to have long hair, didn't you?" 

"Jesus fucking Christ." 

"That was me. The cheerleader who got you beaten up." 

"Yes." 

"My God. I am so sorry. I felt so bad about that 
afterwards. I never meant for them to take it that 
far." 

I struggled against my shock, and Elizabeth looked away 
from me, still shaking her head in amazement. After a 
few moments, I finally regained enough composure to 
make some sense of this incredible coincidence. 

"You know, I sometimes think that human beings aren't 
half as rational and intelligent as we think we are. 
That we're really nothing more than disorganized 
bundles of experiences and neuroses, just waiting for 
other people to come along and push our buttons. People 
like Marianne and Tiffany. I know this relationship is 
distasteful for you. But I do love your daughter. I 
would never do anything to hurt her, or Hayley. I am 
sincerely here to resolve this dilemma without their 
getting hurt." 

She nodded slowly, sighing. 

"So what do we do?" 

"Nothing. We go on the way we have been. Hopefully this 
thing of Hayley's, whatever it is, will run its course 
in a few months. She's too young to know what she's 
really feeling. You can go on with whatever you've been 
doing. If you were to call Tiffany and want to see her 
again, I really think she would be receptive. She said 
some very nice things about you. And your husband can 
continue doing whatever it is he's been doing." 

She laughed softly. 

"Screwing the checkout girls." She shook her head. "How 
much did Marianne 
tell you about us?" 

"Just that you nearly got divorced five years ago 
because you caught him with one of his employees. And 
that she caught you with a friend of yours." 

She nodded. 

"That period was when I finally realized who I was. But 
I realized also that I did not want to get divorced, 
for Marianne and Hayley's sake. We agreed that we would 
simply live together as roommates and conduct our own 
business, as long as we did it discreetly. I think now 
that I underestimated the effect it would have on the 
girls. I think we could have handled this better, not 
set that sort of example for them. I shouldn't have 
pretended they wouldn't notice. But that's water under 
the bridge." 

She looked away from me again, staring off into the 
sky. 

"I know Marianne cares about you very much. That is 
what has made this so hard. That I was losing her 
because of the mistakes I had made." 

She exhaled slowly. 

"I'll go along with this. For their sakes. But if you 
ever, *ever,* hurt either one of them, no force on 
Earth will prevent me from making you pay for it. No 
matter what they do to me." 

"I know that. That's why I'm here." 

"Don't worry about my husband. He pays no attention to 
what we do unless something forces the issue. I think 
he's already decided that he's going to ignore what 
Marianne does. Because it only makes him feel guilty 
about these girls he exploits at work." 

She turned back toward me and leaned forward over the 
table. 

"I want to say one last thing. If you were somewhat 
younger, maybe twenty-five or so, I would have no 
objection to this relationship. I've always thought 
Marianne needed someone older and more responsible than 
she is, to give her the sort of support and guidance 
she's never gotten from her father. I just wish you 
were younger. I just wish she didn't feel like she had 
to go looking for a surrogate father. But I guess you 
can't have everything you want." 

"I don't know that that's the sort of relationship we 
have." 

"It's how it looks to me. But that's neither here nor 
there at this point. 
She's an adult now. I can't really stop her from seeing 
you." 

She stood up. 

"I need to get back to work. I'll speak to Marianne and 
Hayley this afternoon." 

"Thank you. I mean that." 

She nodded once, and then she was gone. 


CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR 
-------------------

I wasn't sure what to expect when I got home that 
night, but Marianne's Bug was parked in my driveway. 
When I entered the garage and shut off the engine, I 
could hear the stereo in the den playing at high 
volume, blasting out my old copy of "Dressed to Kill." 
Gene Simmons and the crew were chanting: 

 I want to rock and roll all nite 
 and party every day! 
 I want to rock and roll all nite 
 and party every day! 


I came into the house, and there I found Marianne and 
Hayley dancing around together in the den. They danced 
up to me, arms in the air and bodies jerking with the 
music, and hugged me. Marianne gave me a big kiss, and 
Hayley did likewise. 

"I love you," Marianne said over the stereo. 

"Me too," her sister said immediately. 

"You're not mad?" 

"No," Marianne said. "I love you more than ever. 
Because you took such a risk for us. I know now that 
idea was insane. I could never have had my parents 
thrown in jail. My mom and I talked about going back 
into therapy, to deal with all these issues we've been 
ignoring. But she also said she thinks she finally 
understands what I see in you. That she thinks she can 
trust you not to hurt us." 

"I hope so." 

I held them both and began dancing with them. They 
giggled and squirmed in my arms, pressing themselves 
against me. I kissed one, then the other, groping at 
random breasts and buttocks. When I tried to shove a 
hand up Hayley's baby tee, she pulled it over her head. 
Her bra hit the floor a moment later. 

Marianne pushed me back toward the couch, and I sat 
down with a girl straddling each leg. Marianne was 
topless in a few seconds, and I contented myself with 
kissing them and playing with their big tits for a 
little while. Hayley, if I was not mistaken, had grown 
a bit since I had first met her. She was still as firm 
as she had been, but I suspected she would be moving up 
to D-cup bras fairly soon at this rate. 

Marianne withdrew a little while I was in the middle of 
tweaking two pairs of nipples. 

"I feel like something different." 

"Like what, Kitten?" 

"Something we haven't done before." 

Hayley giggled. 

"We've done a lot." 

"I know. So I'm trying to think of something new." 

"Whatever happened with your English teacher?" I asked 
Hayley. 

She giggled again. 

"I don't know if she ever figured out what it was, but 
we left a big stain on the wood. I saw her rubbing her 
desk with a paper towel and sniffing the stain that 
Monday morning. I had to run away to keep from laughing 
at her." 

"Oh, God. The poor woman." 

I could see from the look in Marianne's eye that she 
had come up with an idea. 

"What would you think of going down to the beach?" 

"And doing it there?" 

"Yeah. In the dunes. There's a lot of places that would 
work. I used to go there with the boyfriend I had 
before Randy." 

"That would be cool," Hayley said. 

"You two would have to get dressed." 

Marianne grinned. 

"No, see, what I was thinking was that we could go down 
there nude." 

Hayley's eyebrows shot up. 

"What?" 

"I can't drive my car around naked," I said. 

"No. You wouldn't. Just me and Hayley will go nude. If 
we go in the Jeep, the back windows are tinted enough 
to hide us. You could drive us off the lot into the 
sand, then we could jump out when it was clear." 

Hayley giggled nervously. 

"What if someone saw us or something?" 

"That's the point. The risk, you know? Come on." 

She poked Hayley in the stomach. 

"Don't be a wuss. You were cheerleading commando right 
after you fucked Steve that night." 

That was enough peer pressure to convince her. They 
both stripped out of their clothes while I searched for 
a beach blanket. Then, giggling nervously, they ran 
naked into the garage and jumped into the back seat of 
my Grand Cherokee. I climbed into the driver's seat, 
sparing a brief glance at the nude, nubile flesh behind 
me before starting the engine. 

Luckily, Daylight Savings Time had ended a few weeks 
earlier, so by the time I got to the beach, it was 
already quite dark. Hayley and Marianne had been 
giggling and looking around at the other traffic during 
the entire trip. 

I drove to the end of the public parking lot, seeing no 
one around (but then, it was 8 o'clock on a weeknight), 
then drove the Jeep over the curb into the sand. This 
was only about the fourth time I had used the 4WD since 
buying the thing two years before, but the Jeep handled 
it well enough. I took us about a hundred yards down 
the beach and parked between a couple of high dunes. 
There were houses up on the cliffs above us, but they 
were a good two hundred yards away, and with a new moon 
out, it was far too dark to see anything down here. 

When I shut off the engine and the headlights, Marianne 
opened the door nearest the ocean. She looked around, 
then hopped out onto the sand. She stretched her arms 
above her and did a pirouette. 

"Woo!" 

Hayley hesitated for a few seconds before joining her. 
Marianne took her arms and tried to get her to dance in 
a circle. Instead, she squealed in nervous excitement 
and ran over to me, pressing herself against me. 

Marianne walked up to us, blithely unconcerned about 
her nudity. In the darkness, her blonde hair was almost 
silver, and she looked like a sylph descended from the 
sky. 

She pulled Hayley away from me. 

"Come on. Relax. There's no one to see you." 

I scanned the cliffside above us, seeing nothing. 
Marianne let out a whoop and ran down the beach toward 
the water. I watched her naked form cavorting at the 
edge of the surf. Hayley remained next to me, though 
she appeared to be growing used to the situation. 

I stripped out of my clothes, then took her hand. She 
followed me down toward the ocean, and Marianne ran up 
to us. 

"This is so cool! I feel so free." 

She took Hayley's hand again, and this time Hayley went 
with her, laughing excitedly, as she ran around on the 
beach. I watched them as they played together, all long 
legs and tight buttocks, full breasts bouncing around, 
silver hair fluttering in the wind. The two people I 
cared about most in the world--and they had come from 
the person I had once despised more than anything on 
Earth. I would probably never tell them about my 
history with their mother. It would serve no point now. 
Ancient history, water under the bridge, whatever you 
wanted to call it. It would do nothing but confuse 
them. 

I realized I had an erection long after it must have 
happened. They bounced back toward me, and Marianne 
laughed. 

"Is that for us?" 

"If you're looking for one." 

Hayley glanced nervously around. 

"We can't do it all the way out here." 

"I know," her sister said, "we'll go back to the car." 

Marianne took my hand and pulled us both back toward 
the Jeep. She got the beach blanket out of the car and 
we spread it out in a hollow between a pair of dunes. 

I lay on my back and they lay across me, kissing me and 
pushing their breasts in my face. I sucked on four 
nipples alternately for a few minutes before Marianne 
descended to take my erection in her mouth. Hayley 
tried to join her, but I instead guided her above me, 
getting her to squat over my head. I extended my tongue 
and began to eat her as Marianne sucked on me. 

The night was cool, though not uncomfortably so, and 
the contrast between the night air and Marianne's hot 
mouth was almost painful. I had to concentrate entirely 
on licking up at Hayley to keep from coming 
immediately. Hayley rode my tongue slowly, rocking her 
hips back and forth. I took her firm cheerleading butt 
in my hands, caressing her and holding her close to me. 

Marianne withdrew, and I felt her straddling me. A 
moment later, I was sinking into her tight wetness. 
Hayley reversed herself to lean against her sister, and 
we were soon all pleasuring each other. I sucked 
Hayley's clit and lips into my mouth, rolling her clit 
around with my tongue. Marianne rode me steadily, 
grinding herself against the base of my cock, keeping 
me deeply within her. Hayley and Marianne leaned 
against each other's shoulders, gently caressing each 
other's breasts. 

Hayley came first, well before Marianne or me. She 
shuddered over my mouth, letting out a soft cry as her 
thighs battered my ears. I kept up my attentions, and 
she came again about a minute later, throwing herself 
to the side. Marianne dropped all the way down onto me 
once the way was clear. I put my arms around her, 
kissing her deeply. 

We rolled over next to Hayley, who lay there quietly 
watching us. Marianne pulled her legs up to my sides, 
and I pushed the last bit of myself into her. She bit 
at my ear, whispering obscenities that I hoped Hayley 
couldn't hear. She urged me on, moaning at me, and 
suddenly spiked up off the blanket at me, digging her 
nails in to my butt. She squealed once, quickly, before 
the sound was lost in the night breeze. Her climactic 
thrashings were enough to finish me off, and I joined 
her a moment or two later, heaving my cum into her. 

I rolled off Marianne to lie between them when I had 
recovered. They snuggled against me, seeking the shared 
warmth of our bodies. My cock, damp with cum and 
Marianne's fluids, soon grew cold and limp in the sea 
air. I sat up, looking around us, but seeing nothing. 
The noise of the surf had been more than enough to mask 
the sounds of our lovemaking, but I wasn't going to 
take any chances. 

"This is pretty neat," Hayley said. 

"What did I tell you?" Marianne said. "Never doubt an 
older sister. We know about stuff like this." 

Hayley smirked at her, and I lay back down between 
them. We soon fell into another joint grope. Marianne 
slid down my chest and went to work on restoring my 
erection. Hayley stayed up top, and we kissed and 
fondled each other for a few minutes. I pulled her 
beautiful breasts up to my mouth and suckled both until 
her nipples were hard and tight. 

Marianne pulled back and got her sister's attention. 

"Your turn." 

Hayley giggled, straddling me, and I slipped into her, 
moving from the cool night air into the damp furnace 
inside her. She pulled her legs up, letting me bottom 
out as Marianne lay down beside us. She laid her head 
on my arm and caressed my chest as Hayley rode my cock. 

Only a minute into it, she rolled to one side and 
pulled me on top of her. I positioned myself between 
her thighs and began making love to her in earnest. 
Marianne lay still, watching us and smiling at me. 
Hayley wrapped her legs around my butt, pulling me in 
further. Both of us were growing tired, and we took our 
time with it, moving slowly and letting the sensations 
build. Her release, when it came, was deep and quiet, a 
tense shudder underneath me. She bit lightly at my 
shoulder and let out a soft whimper. I loosened the 
brakes and sped my thrusts. 

Marianne suddenly sat up and reached behind me, finding 
my balls. She began playing with them gently, but the 
effect was dramatic. My legs thrashed uncontrollably, 
and I drove roughly into her sister. Hayley cried out, 
holding me tightly. I groaned, and as Hayley shook in 
orgasm under me, I spurted off violently into her 
loins. Marianne giggled at what she had done and lay 
back down beside us. 

I took them home around ten. Hayley got dressed and 
went back to her house, and Marianne and I went to bed. 
We lay down together, holding each other. 

"What exactly did your mother tell you?" 

"She sat us both down in the family room and told us 
how she had talked with you and that she knew what was 
going on. I almost had a heart attack. I thought she 
was about to tell us that she had you arrested or 
something, except that she wasn't acting mad or upset." 

"How did she seem?" 

"Sad. Tired. I don't know. That actually scared me 
more, because I had no idea what could have happened. I 
mean, I hadn't talked to you in almost a week, and I 
was getting really worried. Really, really worried. 
Then my mom just says, 'I know what you did.' I almost 
died." 

"I'm sorry. I needed some time to work through all 
this." 

She hugged me. 

"I know. I wasn't mad at you. I was mad at myself for 
being so dumb. I thought I had lost you because of it." 

I returned the hug, stroking her head. 

"So what did she say?" 

"She told us how you guys had talked and how you had 
decided just to let things be for now. I was scared to 
death because she obviously knew what I had done to her 
with Tiffany. I felt so bad about it that I started 
crying. But Mom told me she just didn't want to talk 
about it, that what was done was done, you know. She 
told me how she had done some stupid things in the past 
because she was in love with someone." 

"What about your dad?" 

"He doesn't know. Mom said we would just leave him out 
of it. So I guess we will." 

"You don't think he'll notice?" 

"No. God... Steve, this will sound so awful, but I'm 
closer to you than I've ever been to him. He just, it 
seems like he tries to avoid us, me and Hayley. There's 
always been like some sort of wall between us. He'll 
get mad at us when we do something wrong, but he's 
never been very affectionate or friendly." 

"I'm sorry." 

She nuzzled my neck. 

"It's okay. I have you. That's all that matters." 


CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE 
-------------------

Marianne and I went out on our usual Friday evening 
date that weekend, though Hayley came along with us. 
Far from being jealous of Hayley's increasingly 
frequent presence, as I had once feared, Marianne 
seemed to be adjusting quite well to having her around. 
Granted, the usual sisterly teasing and jibes were 
always there, but it was never anything that struck at 
the heart of our relationship, whatever it was. As long 
as Marianne had her share of private time with me 
(something I was careful about), she didn't seem to 
mind much at all about bringing Hayley along. 

We went to dinner down by the beach and then walked 
through the neighborhood outside the University. We 
window-shopped for about half an hour, drifting 
randomly around, before passing the tattoo parlor. 
Hayley slowed down and lingered in front of the window. 

"Steve?" 

"Hmm?" 

"Could I...?" she glanced at Marianne, "could I get a 
belly ring?" 

Marianne laughed out loud. 

"Go for it," she said. "I don't care." 

Hayley smiled nervously at her, then looked back to me. 

"Can I?" 

"I guess so. Sure." 

"It's going to hurt worse than that tattoo," Marianne 
said. "It's not like getting your ears pierced." 

Hayley fidgeted for a few seconds. 

"I wanna do it." 

"Okay," I said, "let's go." 

We went inside, and while Hayley lay on her back 
awaiting her operation, Marianne and I leaned against 
the counter and watched. 

"Do you like that clit stud Tiffany has?" 

I gave her a wary look. 

"Not on you." 

She grinned. 

"You don't think it would look good?" 

"I'd have to think about it." 

She giggled. 

"I'm kidding. There's no way I'm letting anyone shove 
needle through my clit. But I was maybe thinking of 
getting a tongue stud like Ashley's." 

She licked her lips. 

"You know what those are good for, right? I'd think 
you'd enjoy that one, at least." 

A frisson of anticipation ran down my spine, and my 
teeth went on edge. 

"Yeah." 

She giggled and nuzzled my shoulder. A few minutes 
later, Hayley reappeared with her belly ring. 

"It didn't hurt that much. What do you think?" 

She held up her baby tee so we could get a good look at 
it. She had gotten a little gold ring just like 
Marianne's. 

"I like it." 

"It looks good on you, short stuff." 

"Thanks." 

I paid the bill, and we resumed our window shopping. 
Hayley kept checking out her navel about every five 
seconds until Marianne laughed at her for doing it. 

Not far down the street was a trendy sex toy/video 
store that seemed to cater to the same crowd I had seen 
hanging around the tattoo parlor. Both Marianne and 
Hayley laughed and leaned against the window to look 
inside. 

"Can we go in there?" Hayley asked. 

I glanced toward the door, where I saw the expected "No 
One Under 18 Admitted" sign. 

"You may have to stay out here, Little Kit." 

She pouted, but she didn't argue. Marianne took my hand 
and led me into the store. We spent a few minutes 
browsing the adult videos and bondage gear before 
Marianne suddenly shrieked in excited embarrassment. 
She ran down the aisle and grabbed something off the 
shelf. As I approached, I saw what she had found: a 
strap-on dildo. 

"Have you ever used one of these?" 

I laughed. 

"Me? I don't exactly need one, I think." 

"No, I mean like with another girl." 

"No." 

"Can we get it?" 

"Seriously?" 

"Yeah." 

"What for?" 

"I don't know, like to use with Tiffany or Ashley." 

"You want to use it?" 

Her excitement dropped a notch or two. 

"Does that weird you out or something?" 

"Not really. It's just a surprise." 

"Oh. So can we?" 

"I guess so." 

She took my hand and led me to the counter. The 
salesman was jaded enough not to give either of us a 
second glance as he bagged it up. We found Hayley 
waiting dejectedly on a bench outside, but she jumped 
up as we came out of the store. 

"What did you get?" 

Marianne opened the bag to let her see. Hayley's 
forehead creased in confusion. 

"What... what is it?" 

Marianne giggled and leaned in to whisper something to 
her. Hayley's eyes swelled after a few seconds, and she 
looked at Marianne in amazement. 

"No way." 

"Way." 

Hayley looked back in the bag, then back up at the two 
of us. 

"Wow. Jeez." 

She remained in a state of dazed shock for several 
minutes as we walked back to the car. Marianne had 
opened the box to examine the thing on the drive home 
when Hayley suddenly spoke up. 

"Are we going to use that tonight?" 

Marianne looked up in surprise, glancing at me, then at 
her sister. 

"Uh... I don't know. Do you want to?" 

"What did you get it for, then?" 

"For like, with the other girls." 

"But not me?" 

Marianne glanced at me again. 

"Why? Do you want to try it out?" 

"Could we?" 

Marianne shrugged. 

"I guess so. Why not?" 

My head spun momentarily -- but no, that's not really 
it, I thought a split-second later. They wouldn't 
really be having sex. It wouldn't be much different 
than playing with each other's tits when we all made 
love together. Less than that, right? They wouldn't 
even really be touching each other. 
Not much, anyway. 

The girls seemed intrigued by this idea, so I kept my 
thoughts to myself. We drove the rest of the way in 
silence. 

Once we were inside, Hayley and Marianne went straight 
upstairs. They sat on my bed, and examined the dildo 
together. Hayley turned it over in her hands while 
Marianne read the little instruction book that came 
with it. The dildo was one of those thick, veined, 
silicone rubber pseudo-penises, not just a hard rod of 
plastic. I saw Hayley wrinkle her nose and sniff the 
thing briefly as I hung up my sport jacket. 

"How does it work?" Hayley asked. 

Marianne showed her something in the manual. 

"I think it's kind of like a jockstrap." 

"Huh." 

"What have you got in mind here?" I asked. 

Marianne giggled, then took the dildo from Hayley and 
hopped off the bed. 

"I'm going to go put it on. You guys get undressed." 

Hayley and I helped each other out of the remainder of 
our clothes, then lay down on the bed. She lay on her 
back, propping herself up on her elbows and looking 
nervously toward the bathroom where Marianne was 
getting ready. 

Hoping to calm her down, I rolled next to her and took 
her in my arms. She kissed me as I played with her 
breasts, squeezing them and pushing them around on her 
chest. I bent to suck on her left nipple, and slid a 
hand down between her thighs. I ran my finger through 
her neatly trimmed blonde pubes before finding her 
clit. I gave it a tweak, and she convulsed under me, 
biting my tongue lightly. 

I continued playing with her after I heard the bathroom 
door open. Marianne tickled my feet, and I looked up. 

It did indeed look like she had on a jockstrap, albeit 
one with a seven-inch rubber penis sticking out of it. 
Hayley's eyes bulged, but she said nothing. 

"Roll over," Marianne said. "Get on your hands and 
knees." 

Hayley complied, and Marianne climbed on the bed behind 
her. I sat up to watch as Marianne reached between 
Hayley's legs, feeling her way forward. I noticed that 
she had rubbed the massage oil all over the dildo, and 
she now eased the oily rubber penis into her sister. 

Hayley moaned, inhaling sharply as Marianne sank into 
her. 

"How does that feel?" 

Hayley only whimpered, putting her head down on the 
pillow. I reached out to caress her face as Marianne 
began to fuck her slowly. Hayley moved with her, 
rocking back and forth, and after a ten or twenty 
seconds of it, reached between her legs to play with 
herself. She braced herself against the headboard as 
Marianne began thrusting harder. 

"Get in front of her," Marianne said suddenly. "Get her 
to suck you while I 
fuck her." 

Hayley moved back a little to let me in, and I slid 
over. She grabbed my cock with her free hand and 
immediately swallowed it up. She bobbed as eagerly as 
she could go, and I could feel the force of Marianne's 
thrusts through Hayley's mouth. 

"Is this doing anything for you?" I gasped. 

Marianne grinned. 

"Well, physically, not really. But it's still hot." 

Hayley moaned around my erection, pushing back harder 
at her sister. Marianne resumed her thrusts, and Hayley 
sucked harder on me. She began to whimper, bouncing 
back and forth between us, impaling herself from two 
directions, on my dick and Marianne. Marianne responded 
by fucking her faster, and I could see Hayley's hand 
going like crazy between her legs. 

A few seconds later, she let out a squeak, bit down 
lightly on my dick, and shuddered in orgasm. Marianne 
continued fucking her, and Hayley suddenly reared up, 
embracing me and kissing me as her sister did her from 
behind. I reached under her, finding her wet twat split 
open by the dildo, and began masturbating her myself. 

Marianne's rapid thrusts caused Hayley to press closely 
against me, and I felt her beginning to shiver with 
another orgasm. She squealed into my ear when it 
peaked, and then threw herself to the side, falling off 
of the dildo. She held my arm tightly, shaking in the 
aftermath. 

Marianne crawled forward and kissed me. I reached 
between her legs, past the dildo, and found her 
dripping pussy. She purred as I stroked her. 

"That was pretty cool." 

"What do you want to do now?" 

She reached over and stroked Hayley's arm. 

"You want to try it?" 

"On you?" 

She laughed. 

"Who else? Yeah." 

"Okay." 

Marianne took the thing off and helped Hayley into it. 
Then she ran back to the bathroom, returning with the 
massage oil. 

"I want you two to fuck me at the same time. I'll get 
on top of Steve, and you do me from behind." 

"You mean, like, in your butt?" 

"Right." 

She oiled up the dildo again, ignoring Hayley's look of 
nervous apprehension, then oiled herself. I had 
remained on my back, and Marianne crawled over me. She 
lay down on top, kissing me and writhing against me. I 
felt her reaching between us, and a moment later I was 
sliding into her wetness. 

She pulled up her knees, opening herself to Hayley, who 
crawled around behind her. 

"Are you ready for this?" she asked me. 

"Are you?" 

"I'm going to try. I've always fantasized about doing 
it like this. Since I'm not going to do it with another 
guy now, this is the next best thing." 

I felt Hayley closing with us, then Marianne tensing 
up. 

"Gently, okay? I'm really tight back there now." 

I couldn't see much from my angle, but I felt it when 
Hayley thrust slowly into Marianne's butt, because 
Marianne shuddered and dug her nails into my arm. Then 
I felt the dildo moving against my cock, separated by a 
thin layer of tissue inside her. The sensation sent 
chills down my spine. 

Marianne whimpered softly, but pushed back against both 
of us. 

"What do I do?" Hayley asked. 

"Fuck me. Gently, but fuck me." 

Hayley began to thrust slowly in and out of her 
sister's ass. I couldn't move much at all in my 
position, because Marianne held me tightly in her arms 
and between her knees. I didn't want to hurt her, so I 
lay still. And the stimulation I was getting from 
Hayley made my participation unnecessary. 

Marianne writhed slowly between us, moaning, gripping 
my arms, biting at my shoulder, kissing me weakly, 
digging herself against my cock. Hayley kept up a slow, 
steady thrusting, and I was soon getting more and more 
heated up. I was unable to stop myself from thrusting 
up at Marianne slowly, and she pushed back at me, 
rolling her hips. She whimpered again, and moved more 
purposefully. 

The novelty of this encounter soon dulled my perception 
of it, and I lost myself in the sensations. Hayley sped 
her thrusts, and Marianne began rocking rapidly back 
and forth. Her hands her claws on my shoulders, and her 
face was twisted into an agonized grimace as if she 
were being tortured. Her movements sped up, and soon 
she was thrashing between us. 

She let out a shriek, digging her nails into my arms so 
hard it hurt. A titanic wave of climax seemed to be 
washing over her, and she finally threw herself 
violently forward across my chest. Hayley stayed inside 
her, staying where she was. She grinned down at me. 

"This is actually pretty cool. I think I can kind of 
see what it's like to be a guy now." 

Marianne whimpered softly against my neck, hugging me. 
Hayley withdrew, going into the bathroom to clean up. I 
stroked Marianne's back affectionately. 

"You okay?" 

"Sore," she managed, "but happy." 

"Good." 

"Did you come?" 

"No." 

She rolled slowly on her back, pulling me on top of 
her. 

"Come now. Use me." She giggled. "Just fuck me. I'm too 
tired to come again anyway." 

Taking the hint, I began thrusting into her. I had been 
hard for so long without release that my erection 
ached, and the sweet friction of her wet pussy swept 
over me, consuming me in pleasure. My cum was rapidly 
boiling in my groin, spinning, surging, then finally 
spurting helplessly into her. She held me close, lying 
still under me. I fell onto her body with a gasp. 

"I love you," she whispered, "I love you." 

"Mmm. You too." 

Then the phone rang. I had no intention of answering it 
until I leaned over and glanced at the Caller ID. 

"Who is it?" 

"Your mom. I better get it." 

I reached for the handset just as Hayley came out of 
the bathroom, naked, holding the strap-on dildo. I had 
to close my eyes and compose myself before speaking to 
their mother. 

"Hello?" 

"Steve, it's Elizabeth. The girls are there, aren't 
they?" 

"Yes. Do you want to talk to them?" 

"Let me speak to Marianne." 

I gave her the phone, and she listened for a few 
moments. The color slowly drained out of her face. 

"Okay. We'll be right over." 

She hung up and gulped, staring at me in distress. 

"My dad just got arrested. They caught him with some 
girl at the supermarket." 


CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX 
------------------

The girls got dressed rapidly and then went home. I 
briefly considered going with them before deciding 
against it. Having nothing better to do, I sat in the 
living room watching a movie in case they needed me for 
something. 

I was about to go to bed at one-thirty when the phone 
rang again. 

"Hello?" 

"Steve?" It was Marianne. "I didn't wake you up, did 
I?" 

"No, I was waiting up. What's going on?" 

She sighed weakly into the phone. 

"My dad is still in jail. He won't have his bail 
hearing until tomorrow morning, and my mom is making 
noises about not bailing him out." 

"What happened?" 

"It was the dumbest piece of luck. He was screwing this 
checkout girl in his office, she's sixteen or 
something, and one of the new checkers walked in on 
him. I guess most of the employees know enough about 
him not to barge in on him, but she didn't. Apparently 
she let out a scream when she caught them, and as it 
happened, this is the really dumb thing, there were two 
cops in the store at the time. I guess they were 
stocking up on doughnuts or something. But they were 
right nearby, so they went to check out what was going 
on." 

"And they arrested him?" 

"Yeah. And, according to the D.A. we talked to, because 
he's so much older than her, he could be getting like 
ten years in jail. The girl is claiming he pressured 
her into it, which I can believe, so they may decide to 
get tough with him." 

"I'm sorry." 

She sniffed, and I could hear her starting to cry. 

"I mean, I hate him for doing this all the time, and 
how he never pays attention me and Hayley, but he's 
still my dad, you know? How can my dad be in jail?" She 
sobbed and gasped for breath. "What am I going tell 
people?" 

I cringed, listening to her sobbing into the phone. 

"What can I do? Just ask." 

She bawled and gasped for another few seconds before 
she could answer me. 

"Can I come over?" 

"Absolutely. Come." 

She hung up the phone without saying anything else, and 
she came though the door less than a minute later. She 
ran right into my arms and resumed crying. I held her, 
rocking her back and forth for a minute or two before 
picking her up and carrying her upstairs. We lay down 
on the bed and she hugged me tightly. 

Her tears dried up after about ten minutes. 

"How is Hayley?" 

She sniffed. 

"Hysterical. She and Mom were lying down together when 
I called." 

"Your mom doesn't want to bail him out?" 

She took a deep breath and sat up. 

"I don't know. She was saying things like 'I can't take 
this anymore,' and 'I've had it with him.' I think... I 
think she might just divorce him this time." 

"I'm sorry." 

She took another breath and exhaled. 

"I understand how she feels. I almost... I don't know 
if I can face him again after this." 

"You didn't get to see him?" 

"Mom did. Hayley and I couldn't." 

I wanted to ask her the question I could not ask her, 
which was why she was so upset with her father when he 
was doing nothing more than what I was. Maybe she held 
her father to a higher standard; maybe she didn't like 
seeing the situation from another perspective. Maybe 
she just didn't like the idea of her father having sex, 
or maybe it was just the cheating issue she cared 
about. Whatever it was, I had no choice but to keep my 
mouth shut. 

Marianne spent the night, curled up tightly beside me. 
Elizabeth called us the next morning, and explained how 
she had decided that Charles Mulcahey was not setting 
foot in her house again. Charles got himself bailed 
out, but by then Elizabeth had packed his bags and put 
them out on the curb. They had a screaming fit with 
each other that afternoon, after which Charles went to 
a motel. 

In the days that followed, I saw more of Marianne and 
less of Hayley. Hayley appeared too shocked by this 
event to think much of me, which didn't surprise me. 
Marianne, on the other hand, needed me more than ever, 
and I provided what moral support I could. 

Elizabeth filed for divorce a week after her husband's 
arrest. 

With this cloud hanging over all our heads, we tried to 
keep a low profile. The other girls on the squad stayed 
away, and the only one I ever saw was Marianne. 
Thanksgiving approached with her father still gone. I 
wasn't sure what to do, but I didn't want to intrude. 

On Tuesday before Thanksgiving, while I was at work, I 
got a very interesting phone call. 

"Elizabeth Mulcahey," my secretary said through the 
intercom. 

I grabbed the phone. 

"This is Steve." 

"Steve, this is Elizabeth. How are you?" 

"Fine. How are things going?" 

She sighed. 

"The girls are still in a state of shock. Hayley will 
hardly talk to me since I started the divorce 
proceedings. Thanksgiving is going to be very difficult 
this year, as you can probably imagine." 

"I'm sorry. If there's anything you need me to do, just 
ask." 

"Well, that's why I'm calling." She paused for a moment 
or two. "Steve, I know the moral issues here are rather 
murky, but I'm trying to do what's best for my 
daughters. I was thinking it might help them if you 
could come for dinner on Thursday. I'm hoping I'm not 
catching you too late." 

It took me a few seconds to get over my shock. 

"You mean for Thanksgiving?" 

"Yes. I think Charles's absence would be less striking 
if you were there." 

"Well... um, I don't have any other plans. I guess, if 
you want me to come, I will." 

"I would appreciate it." 

"Do they know about this?" 

"Marianne dropped a couple of hints. Hayley doesn't 
know." 

"If they're okay with it, it's fine." 

"I'll ask Hayley and let you know. Thank you." 

Elizabeth called me back later that afternoon and told 
me that Hayley had agreed to have me there. I asked her 
if I could bring anything, and she suggested I bring 
the drinks. 

I showed up at three o'clock on Thursday afternoon 
wearing one of my better suits and carrying two bottles 
of my best Mondavi Chardonnay. Marianne met me at the 
door in a long white dress and gave me a hug. 

"Thanks for coming." 

"I'm still kind of shocked about this." 

"Me too. But I think Mom is really trying to move on." 

"What about you?" 

She looked down and nodded slightly. 

"I'm trying." 

We returned to the kitchen, where Hayley and Elizabeth 
were finishing the dinner. Hayley gave me a quick hug, 
and I gave Elizabeth the wine. 

"Thank you. If you want to open it, the corkscrew is 
over there." 

I put one bottle in the refrigerator and opened the 
other. I poured two glasses, watching the uncertain 
look in Marianne's eyes. 

"Mom?" 

Elizabeth glanced at her, then me. 

"I guess so, honey. Just one glass, though, all right?" 

"Thanks." 

I poured Marianne a glass, then surveyed the dinner. 
The turkey was out on the counter, and Elizabeth was 
finishing up the creamed spinach and mashed potatoes. 

"Anything I can do?" 

"Just make yourself at home. We'll be ready in a few 
minutes." 

I went back out to the living room with Marianne. She 
sat next to me and took a sip of her wine. 

"Have you talked to your dad?" 

She shook her head. 

"He still hasn't called. I don't know if he doesn't 
want to talk to Mom or what. I don't know what I would 
say to him, frankly." 

She leaned against me, laying her head on my shoulder. 
I nuzzled her briefly, and then, seeing nothing else to 
do, turned on the football game. The Cowboys were 
leading the Redskins 24-14, and I watched until 
Elizabeth called us to dinner. 

The food was pleasant enough, but the atmosphere 
hanging over the dinner dulled my enjoyment of it. We 
confined the conversation to the current events at 
Marianne and Hayley's school, and to banal shoptalk 
about my job and Elizabeth's. I did my best to eat my 
fill, but it was clear that none of the women had much 
of an appetite. We scarcely made a dent in the turkey. 

Marianne and Hayley served the dessert, a store-bought 
pumpkin pie. I made some coffee while they set up the 
plates and then returned to the table. 

When we had all taken our seats, Elizabeth sat back in 
her chair and took a deep breath. 

"There is something I need to tell all of you. Steve, I 
asked you here tonight because this concerns you as 
well. This was a very difficult decision on my part, 
but I think it is the best for all of us." 

I glanced at Marianne and Hayley. Both faces were lined 
in concern. 

"Your father is going to plead guilty to molesting that 
girl. Because she is alleging that he pressured her to 
have sex, the D.A. will not agree to probation. Your 
father will be going to state prison for two years. He 
may be out sooner than that, but that is the sentence 
he is going to agree to on Monday morning. 

"He and my lawyer have been in contact about the 
divorce. He will not interfere in my request for full 
custody. The property issues will take some time to 
unravel, but the divorce will be going through." 

Hayley had sagged in her chair and begun to cry quietly 
into her lap. 
Marianne just looked at me sadly, then looked back to 
her mother. 

Elizabeth took another ragged breath. 

"I have been thinking for a long time about going back 
to school and finishing my degree, and this disaster 
that your father has precipitated seems to be enough of 
a reason. I would, ultimately, like to attend law 
school and move up from being a legal secretary to 
being an actual lawyer. I was hoping that I could get 
accepted to the University for the spring semester, but 
unfortunately that did not happen." 

Marianne gasped, throwing her hand over her mouth. 
Hayley looked up in shock. Elizabeth reached out and 
took both her daughters' hands. 

"I have, however, been accepted at U.C. Santa Cruz. If 
we can make this work, I want to start there in 
January." 

Marianne came out of her shock. 

"Mom, you can't..." 

Elizabeth cut her off. 

"Marianne, wait. Just listen. I am not going to pull 
either of you out of school and move you to Santa Cruz. 
I know that would be too difficult for both of you, 
particularly you, since you are about to graduate 
yourself." 

She paused and looked at me, and suddenly I realized 
where she was going with all of this. 

"What I hope we could do is have the two of you move in 
with Steve. I know how you feel about him, and I have 
begun to understand why. I think this would be the 
least traumatic solution for all of us." 

Three jaws were nearly on the table by this point. 
Ironically perhaps, it was Hayley who spoke up first. 

"We could do that?" 

"I think so. I asked my lawyer about it, though I left 
out a lot of the details. He pointed out that Marianne 
can live where she likes, since she is eighteen, and he 
said there is nothing legally wrong with leaving you in 
her care. You would simply be living with Steve at the 
same time." 

The three of them glanced around at each other, but it 
took me a few seconds before I realized that six eyes 
had finally come to rest on me. Waiting for an answer. 

"Uh... wow. Um. I need to think about this." 

"Take all the time you need," Elizabeth said. "I know 
this is a surprise." 

I laughed weakly. 

"That's putting it mildly." 

Marianne reached out and squeezed my hand. I glanced at 
Hayley, who stared at me with a look of yearning so 
intense that I had to look away from her a second 
later. 

"I have the room. That's not a problem. It's just..." 

"I would be just a couple of hours away. I won't make 
you become their father. I intend to stay as involved 
in their lives as I can. I just need this break to find 
myself. I have been so emotionally dead for so many 
years living with Charles. And with him in prison, I 
have to put the house up for sale. It's that or lose it 
to the bank. Under these circumstances, I can't go back 
to school without seriously disrupting the girls' 
lives. Not without your help." 

I looked back at Marianne, seeing that her eyes were 
beginning to fill with tears. I realized suddenly that 
she might be thinking I was hesitating because I didn't 
want her around after what had happened. I returned the 
squeeze she was giving me. 

"Look. It's not that I don't want them living with me. 
It's just that this is a major-league commitment. I've 
been living alone for almost fifteen years now." 

"We won't be any trouble," Hayley said. "I'll clean up 
everything. We won't make a mess of your house. I'll do 
all my homework and everything I'm supposed to do. You 
won't have to check up on me." 

Marianne didn't say anything, but I could see it in her 
eyes anyway. I think she knew that if she said anything 
and I hesitated, she would break down completely. 

I took a moment to steady myself. 

"I think... I think we can do it. At least give it a 
try." 

Hayley squealed and bounced in her seat. She was 
sitting across from me, otherwise I think she would 
have jumped into my lap. Marianne came out of her chair 
and hugged me tightly. I looked past her shoulder at 
Elizabeth, who just reached for my hand. She tried to 
say, "Thank you," but all she could do was mouth it. 

Marianne released her grip on my neck. 

"I'm going to make you the happiest man on Earth," she 
whispered. 

I squeezed her waist. 

"You already have." 

I stayed to help clean up, but Marianne went back home 
with me after dinner. We drifted up the stairs into the 
bedroom, glancing at each other but saying nothing. I 
lifted the dress over her head, then took off her bra 
and panties. She undressed me as well, then linked her 
arms around my waist. 

"I know this is a big step." 

"It is." 

"I'll do everything I can to make it work. I promise." 

"I keep wondering about the sleeping arrangements. 
Having both of you in here may be problematic." 

She smiled. 

"Hayley wants her own room. She asked me when we were 
doing the dishes if I thought you would mind. I guess 
not, right?" 

"No. She needs her own room." 

"But I get to sleep in here with you?" 

"Right." 

She hugged me, giggling. 

"I'm going to be living with you." 

I smiled down at her. 

"You really are." 

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" 

I laughed. 

"You're asking *me*?" 

"Yes. You said yourself that you've been living alone 
for fifteen years." 

"I have been. But since I met you, I think I've 
realized how lonely I had gotten. I'm not sure where 
this is going to take us, but I'm willing to take the 
trip." 

"Me too." 

I pulled her close and kissed her. She melted against 
me, pressing her big tits against my chest. I felt 
myself stiffening between us, and when I shifted to 
give myself more room, Marianne reached in to take my 
erection in her hands. She stroked me gently as we 
kissed, a light, silky touch that sent shivers down my 
legs. 

She lowered herself to her knees and took me deeply 
into her mouth. I felt myself probing at the back of 
her throat, and she began to bob slowly on my erection. 
I stood there, rigid, holding her head and letting her 
make love to me with her mouth. She withdrew and ran 
her tongue around the head a few times before plunging 
back down. One hand played softly with my balls, and I 
could see that the other had disappeared between her 
legs. 

I stood her attentions for only another minute or so 
before pulling her up. She giggled, leaning against me, 
and I picked up. I tossed her on the bed, making her 
shriek with laughter. I crawled after her, she spread 
herself open for me, welcoming me into her. She was 
already wet but still deliciously tight. She rolled her 
hips back, making the tendons on her thighs stand out 
as I forced every inch of myself into her. She grunted 
as I bottomed out, digging her nails into my butt. 

I lunged forward, burying my tongue on her mouth. Her 
arms came up around me, holding me tightly as I thrust 
at her. She matched my every movement, rolling her hips 
with every thrust. I penetrated her from both 
directions until she began convulsing, biting at my 
tongue involuntarily. I lifted up from her body, 
watching her big tits rolling around on her chest. I 
bent to take a perfect nipple in my mouth, and she 
cried out, arching her back. Her hips spiked up at me 
hard, and a tremor began in her abdomen. Her thighs 
began to shake, then batter my waist. She let out a 
shriek, clawed at my back, and came. 

I slowed my thrusts as she coasted down, gasping for 
breath. She shivered under me, even that contact too 
much for her sensitive flesh. She pulled me back down 
and kissed me slowly. 

"I love you," she said softly. 

I kissed her back, beginning to move again within her. 
I felt her squeezing me as best she could, and I 
reached under her to take her tight butt in my hands. 
The flesh of her buttocks tensed, then relaxed, then 
tensed again, moving with my thrusts. 

She bit at my earlobe. 

"Come in me... I want to feel it... I want to feel you 
inside me." 

I moved faster, my approaching climax aching in my 
balls like molten lava. Every bit of her around me was 
wet and overheated, only making my crisis worse. I 
drove harder, beginning to thump against her, making 
her breasts shake with each thrust. Her breathing 
accelerated, and she looked up at me, nodding rapidly, 
whimpering, knowing what was about to happen. 

I grunted, then cried out, pounding myself at her, and 
then my cum was erupting into her shuddering body, 
triggering another orgasm a split- second after mine. 
We held each other, shaking in the aftermath, trying to 
catch our breath. 

I stayed on her, in her, until the heat of this 
encounter finally faded. I rolled off beside her, and 
she snuggled under my arm. 

"I love you, Kitten." 

She hugged me, giggled contentedly. 

"You've got me," she said. "I'm all yours now." 


CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN 
--------------------

Bit by bit, the girls began their separation from their 
mother. I had a spare room upstairs that I had been 
using to store my random junk, so we moved that out and 
prepared it for Hayley. We spent the second week of 
December painting it yellow and redecorating it for 
her. 

Charles Mulcahey went off to prison, never saying good 
bye to his family. Elizabeth prepared to leave for 
Santa Cruz and put their house up for sale. Marianne 
and Hayley moved their belongings into my place, and 
the harsh masculine aura that had pervaded the place 
for so long began to fade. That first morning after 
they moved in for good, I lay in bed watching Marianne 
sleep beside me and wondering how long something like 
this could last. And how long I really wanted it to. 

We had Christmas together (I got them both earrings, 
Marianne a pair of diamonds and Hayley a pair of gold-
and-lapis ones to match the bracelet she still wore 
24/7), and Elizabeth left for college just after New 
Year's. Marianne and Hayley returned to school, and 
though Marianne reported a certain amount of gossip 
about our living arrangements, on the whole fewer 
people seemed to care than I had expected. 

The second week in January, I came home from work on 
Friday to find Marianne and Tiffany lounging around the 
den. Marianne had on her usual hiphugger-jeans-and-
cropped-top ensemble, while Tiffany wore a pleated 
schoolgirl skirt and a black baby tee. 

"Hi, Steve." 

I kissed Marianne. 

"Tiff. What's up?" 

"Just hanging out." 

"Where's your sister?" I asked Marianne. 

"The J.V. squad all wanted to go to the movies tonight. 
So I was thinking the three of us could go out." 

I got a beer out of the refrigerator and opened it up. 

"You have anything specific in mind?" 

They glanced at each other, grinning. 

"You remember my idea about getting my tongue pierced?" 

"Oh yeah." 

"That's what I had in mind. You're okay with it, 
right?" 

"It's going to leave you out of commission for a while, 
isn't it?" 

She smiled. 

"That's why Tiff is here. We felt like doing the slave 
bit again tonight. She'll do what I can't, and whatever 
else we feel like doing." 

Tiffany giggled. 

"She has to be dressed appropriately," I said. "Wearing 
nothing but black stockings and a pair of nipple clips 
will attract some attention." 

"I know," Marianne said. "We're going to do something 
else. Go change and I'll show you." 

I went upstairs and changed out of my suit. After 
freshening up and putting on a pair of khakis and a 
button-down shirt, I descended to find out what my 
girlfriend was up to tonight. 

I found them waiting in the den where I had left them. 
They hopped off the couch when I came in. Marianne 
reached into her pocket and pulled out a long silver 
chain with a clip on one end. 

"Tiff will just go like she is, with one addition. I'm 
going to have her on a leash tonight." 

I looked down at the chain in her hands. 

"How will that fit around her neck?" 

Marianne grinned evilly. 

"It's not going around her neck." 

She turned to Tiffany and dropped down to one knee. She 
lifted Tiffany's skirt, whereupon I saw that a) she had 
nothing on under it, and b) she had continued to shave 
her pubes. Marianne clipped the leash to Tiffany's clit 
stud and let the skirt drop back down. She stood up and 
wrapped the end of the chain around her finger. 

"Ready. Let's go." 

Wicked smiles creased both of their faces. I looked 
Tiffany over and gulped. It wasn't *that* clear what 
was going on, but plenty of people would know enough to 
get the point. That chain, after all, was clearly 
connected to *something* under Tiffany's skirt. 

"Uh... I'm not sure where we can go like this." 

"We won't go to Bernardo's. As long as we just go down 
by the University, it won't cause a crisis. People will 
stare, but that's the point. They won't call the cops 
or anything." 

I laughed weakly. 

"Okay. Let's do it." 

I followed them out to my Jeep. Tiffany got into the 
back, allowing Marianne to run the leash up between the 
front seats. I backed out of the driveway and headed 
down toward the beach. 

When we got to the University area, Tiffany followed 
dutifully behind us with a sly smile on her face. 
Marianne held the chain in her hand as if she were 
leading a dog. A few people did double takes as we 
passed, and a lot of them stared (or laughed), but no 
one freaked out. As Marianne had said, this was one of 
the few places we could get away with this. 

We went to a walk-up pizza parlor for dinner, and 
Marianne held onto Tiffany's leash the entire time. Now 
and then, she would give it a gentle tug, making 
Tiffany giggle and squirm. 

As we finished up, Tiffany leaned forward over the 
table with a nervous look on her face. 

"Um, guys, I was thinking." 

"What?" I asked. 

"Could I, you know, maybe get something done too?" 

"Pierced, you mean?" 

She nodded. 

"You can't do your tongue," Marianne said. "It's on 
call tonight." 

Tiffany shrieked with laughter, then covered her mouth 
and lowered her voice. 

"I know. Not that. I was thinking of doing my nips. To 
go with the rest of it, you know?" 

Marianne and I glanced at each other. 

"You're going to start setting off metal detectors," 
she said, "but that might look cool." 

"This isn't something you just thought of?" I asked. 

"No. I've been thinking about it for a while. I wanna 
do it if it's okay with you." 

"Fine by me," Marianne said. "Something else to attach 
a leash to." 

Tiffany laughed again, glancing around in 
embarrassment. When we were done eating, we walked over 
to the tattoo parlor. More people checked out the 
leash, but this time we got only smiles and sly looks. 
One guy with long hair and a collection of tats took in 
the two girls and the fact that Marianne was holding my 
arm, then nudged me and grinned. 

"Nice." 

"Thanks." 

We leaned against the counter and watched the action 
for a few minutes. 

"Are you ready to do this?" I asked. 

Marianne nodded. 

"Just nervous. Ashley said it's going to hurt a lot." 

Tiffany grinned. 

"I don't think it could hurt worse than my... um... you 
know." 

Marianne smirked and gave the leash a tug. I got the 
attention of one of the artists and explained what we 
wanted to do. He looked over the two girls. 

"You both eighteen?" 

They displayed their driver's licenses (Tiffany had 
turned eighteen in December, shortly before Christmas, 
so I didn't have to pretend to be anyone's father this 
time), after which the artist nodded and led us to the 
rear of the store. 

"Who's first?" 

Marianne held up her hand, and he directed her to a 
chair. The prep work took several minutes, and Marianne 
held my hand tightly. Finally he wrapped her tongue in 
a swath of gauze and pulled it out of her mouth. I 
couldn't watch when he slid the needle through, but I 
knew from the cracking of the bones in my hand what was 
going on. I could hear Marianne whimpering softly and 
gasping for breath. 

When I looked back, the stud was already in place, and 
the artist withdrew his equipment. Marianne closed her 
mouth tightly and began to cry. I hugged her and tried 
to comfort her as the artist explained what she need to 
do the next few weeks as it healed. 

I sat down in another chair, and Marianne sat in my 
lap, shaking and shivering and occasionally spitting 
blood into a paper cup. Tiffany took her place, pulling 
off her top and bra while the artist found some studs 
to match the one in her navel. If I wasn't imagining 
things, Tiffany was actually getting excited about 
this. I could see a flush spreading over her chest, and 
she was breathing rapidly, looking back and forth 
between me and the artist. 

Something very weird occurred when he pierced her 
nipples. Instead of reacting in agony as Marianne had, 
Tiffany just arched her back and shuddered, gasping for 
breath. Her legs convulsed and shook under her, and 
when he was done, had I not known any better, I would 
have sworn she had just had an orgasm. 

Tiffany had very pretty breasts, not quite as nice as 
Hayley and Marianne, but close. Between the new studs 
in her nips, the one in her navel, and the definite 
"bad girl" cast to her face, the overall effect was 
positively perverse. 

The artist let them rest for a few minutes, and 
Marianne eventually recovered enough to get back to her 
feet. We walked slowly back to the car. 

"I'm guess you won't be talking much for a few days," I 
said. 

She shook her head and hugged my arm. She kept her grip 
on Tiffany's leash, however, and Tiffany followed 
closely behind us. 

When we got home, I distributed some Advil as the girls 
retired to the den. Tiffany removed her top as soon as 
we were inside. Her red, swollen nipples stood out like 
they were about to pop off her chest. 

"How you doing?" 

"I'm fine. They're sore, but they don't hurt that 
much." 

Marianne whimpered, and I stroked her arm. 

"We don't have to do anything tonight if you're not up 
to it." 

She shook her head again and made a writing motion with 
her hands. I went to get a pen and a pad of paper. She 
took it and scribbled something rapidly. 

"I'm okay," she wrote. "Just stay away from my mouth. 
Tiffany will do what I can't. That's why she's here." 

"You sure?" 

She nodded and climbed to her feet, taking Tiffany's 
leash. She led us upstairs and directed Tiffany to 
disrobe, which she did immediately. Then she motioned 
for Tiffany to kneel in front of me. 

Needing no further encouragement, Tiffany dropped to 
her knees and went looking for my dick. Once it was 
exposed, it went right into her mouth. Marianne smiled 
at me and began slipping out of her clothes. When she 
was nude, she walked around behind me, hugging me. I 
caressed her arms as Tiffany bobbed slowly over my 
erection. 

Marianne took off my clothes piece by piece, then knelt 
beside Tiffany. She kept her mouth shut, but used her 
hands to play with my balls and caress my leg. 

Tiffany was sucking on me eagerly, swirling her tongue 
around the head, taking it deep, then dragging her 
teeth back up over the underside. I closed my eyes and 
let the two of them work on me. 

Tiffany kept up her steady suction until I pulled her 
off, feeling the cum beginning stir in my balls. 
Marianne got to her feet and led me to the bed. She lay 
on her back, and I watched as Tiffany crawled up behind 
us, between Marianne's legs. She got herself into 
position, hands under Marianne's buttocks and bent to 
lick at her friend. 

I kissed Marianne's face and neck as Tiffany ate her. 
She nuzzled me as best she could, and I was careful to 
avoid her lips. Her breathing grew heavy and ragged 
from what Tiffany was doing, and I slid further down to 
suck on her nipples. 

When I had both wet and erect, I looked down to watch 
Tiffany. Her tongue was dipping and fluttering all 
around Marianne's clit, and she worked her middle 
finger in and out of my girlfriend. Marianne was 
beginning to writhe and moan under us, and her hips 
rolled at Tiffany's face. I laid my hand flat on her 
stomach, feeling the tremors moving within her. 

Tiffany sped her attentions, spinning the tip of her 
tongue around and around, then lapping rapidly against 
Marianne's sex. Marianne was gripping my arm tightly, 
and finally she began to shake under us. Her hips 
bounced rapidly at Tiffany's mouth, then she let out 
shriek and came. 

We let her rest for minute, and I pulled Tiffany up 
between us. Knowing that Marianne would not be able to 
do much for her, I took up that burden myself. I slid 
down between her thighs as Marianne rolled under her 
arm. 

Tiffany was already dripping wet, and when I got down 
close enough to examine her, it appeared (from the 
stickiness all over her shaved labia and inner thighs) 
that she had been like this most of the night. I had to 
dig into her with my tongue to get any friction, but 
that appeared to be what she wanted. She put her legs 
over my shoulder and pulled my face as close to her as 
I could get. 

Marianne simply caressed Tiffany's stomach, apparently 
seeing nothing else she could do, but after I had been 
eating Tiffany for a few minutes, Tiffany reached for 
Marianne's hand. She pulled it to her breasts and laid 
it over the new piercing on her right tit. 

Marianne looked at me in concern, but Tiffany pressed 
Marianne's hand down. Very gently, Marianne began to 
tweak the stud in Tiffany's nipple. 

The effect was dramatic. Tiffany let out a gasp and 
arched her back, throwing her hips at my face. I 
redoubled my attack in response, and Tiffany groped for 
Marianne's other hand. Getting the message, Marianne 
sat up and used both hands to play with the new 
piercings. 

Less than five seconds into this, Tiffany screeched, 
launching off the bed in orgasm and almost strangling 
me with her thighs. She clawed at the sheets on either 
side of her, thrashing around like she was having an 
epileptic fit. It went on for about five seconds before 
finally subsiding. Marianne let go of her nipples, and 
I leaned back, stretching my neck. 

Tiffany was out cold for nearly a minute before her 
eyes fluttered open. Marianne stroked her arm 
affectionately. 

"Are you okay?" I asked. 

Tiffany nodded, gasping. 

"Shit. I've never come like that in my life." 

"The piercings... that didn't hurt?" 

"It did. It's what got me off so big." 

"You know, when you had them done, I would have sworn 
you came in the middle of it." 

She giggled. 

"I did. I told you I have a thing about pain." 

Marianne laughed, though I saw her wince at the same 
time. 

"I guess so." 

Tiffany sat up. 

"You guys do it. I'll help. Come here." 

She slid down the bed and got Marianne to squat over 
her face, presenting her pretty butt to me. I knelt 
behind her and Tiffany guided me in, running her tongue 
along the underside. I took Marianne's hips in my hands 
as Tiffany licked up at us. 

Marianne was still very wet, and I had held off far too 
long. With Tiffany eagerly eating both of us and 
Marianne butting back at me with each thrust, I didn't 
last very long. But Tiffany got Marianne off just 
before I came into her like a fire hose. When I 
withdrew, she pulled Marianne's hips down and let my 
cum ooze down into her mouth. She lapped up at her 
friend until Marianne rolled on her side. I crawled up 
and lay between them. 

As we lay resting, I heard the front door open 
downstairs. Not wanting to startle Hayley, I got up and 
put on a robe. Marianne and Tiffany lay together, 
holding each other lightly. 

I found Hayley in the kitchen getting a soda out of the 
fridge. 

"How was the movie?" 

"Pretty good. We had fun." She grinned at me. "Were you 
guys in bed?" 

I nodded. 

"Tiffany is here." 

"Did Marianne get her tongue pierced?" 

"Yep. Don't tell me you're thinking of it." 

She shivered. 

"No way. It would hurt too much." 

"It did, from what I could tell. She's going to be 
taking it easy for a while." 

She put her arms around me and hugged me. I could smell 
the theater on her, mixed with the girlish perfume she 
favored. I returned the hug. 

"How you doing, Little Kit? I know this has been harder 
on you than Marianne." 

"I miss my dad." 

"I know. You just have to realize that parents are 
people, too. They make mistakes just like anyone else, 
and sometimes they don't realize how much they're 
hurting the people who care about them." 

"I don't know what I would be doing without you. I know 
Mom has to go find herself or whatever it is she's 
doing, but it's hard." 

"I know. But you're a strong enough person to get 
through it." 

She squeezed me. 

"Thanks." 

She stayed where she was, so I continued to hold her. 

"You know something?" 

"What?" 

"My dad never hugged me. Never. He didn't like to touch 
us. I wonder sometimes..." She paused and gulped. "This 
is so awful to say... but I wonder sometimes if it was 
because of what he was doing with those girls. That we 
made him uncomfortable." 

I hugged her tightly. 

"Don't go there, baby. Don't go there. It won't 
accomplish anything. You just have to move forward. 
Don't try to get inside his head. He made some 
mistakes; that's all you need to worry about." 

She sniffed. 

"Okay." 

"Why don't you just go to bed? I'll see what the other 
girls are doing." 

"Can I sleep with you guys tonight?" 

"Sure." 

We went upstairs, and I found Marianne and Tiffany 
still lounging on the bed. 

"Hi, Hayley." 

"Hi." She looked at Marianne. "How's your tongue?" 

Marianne just shook her head. Tiffany sat up and ran 
her fingers through her hair. 

"I guess I'd better go. I'll see you guys later." 

Marianne rubbed her arm, and I gave her a kiss as she 
got dressed and left. Hayley went into her room and 
returned in her nightshirt. She lay beside Marianne, 
and her sister gave her a hug. I went to brush my 
teeth, and when I returned, Hayley was lying across 
Marianne's stomach as Marianne played with her hair. 

"You guys okay?" 

Marianne nodded and motioned for me to get in bed. They 
separated, and I climbed between them. One rolled under 
each arm. I turned out the lights, and we fell asleep a 
few minutes later. 


CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT 
--------------------

Marianne's tongue took a few weeks to heal, but one 
night in February, she finally announced that it was 
time for a test drive. She pulled me into the bedroom, 
removed my pants, and sat me down in the armchair 
across from the bed. The first time she took me into 
her mouth and put her tongue stud to work, I had to 
grope at the chair and clench my teeth to keep from 
groaning out loud. She got me erect very quickly, and 
commenced a bobbing and massaging action with her 
tongue, constantly rubbing the stud against the 
underside of my dick. 

I was ready to come in less than thirty seconds, 
something I probably hadn't done since I was her age. 
She giggled around her mouthful and slowed down a bit, 
but didn't relent with the massage. When she finally 
let me come a few minutes later, it was so intense it 
almost hurt. She finished me off and then climbed into 
my lap. 

"What do you think? Good idea?" 

I grunted, trying to nod. She giggled and hugged me 
tightly. 

Marianne had adjusted to our new living arrangements a 
lot better than her sister had. Though I didn't want to 
think too hard about it, Hayley had attached herself to 
me even more firmly than before. I didn't want to 
psychoanalyze her, but I knew she was hurting a lot on 
the inside. 

I finally asked her whether she might want to talk to a 
therapist about her parents, and after a day or two, 
she agreed. I mentioned it to Marianne, thinking that 
it wouldn't hurt if she went too, and the two of them 
were soon going to see a doctor friend of mine twice a 
week. Though I hadn't brought the issue up, both of 
them promised not to say anything to get me in trouble. 

Elizabeth called a few times a week, and I often talked 
to her myself, just to give her an adult's perspective 
on her daughters. She thanked me profusely for getting 
them into therapy and promised to pay me back one day 
when she was able. I told her not to worry about it, 
but she insisted. 

Hayley's sixteenth birthday was March 3rd, and as it 
approached, and we got her ready for her driver's 
license, she began dropping none-too- subtle hints 
about wanting her own car. 

"Steve, my God, you can't," Elizabeth said over the 
phone. "Just tell her she has to share Marianne's car." 

"The problem is that she doesn't understand why 
Marianne got to have her own car but she can't. And I'm 
not sure what to tell her." 

"You didn't buy it for her until she was eighteen. Just 
tell her to wait." 

"She's sixteen. You know that two years is an eternity 
at that age." 

Elizabeth sighed. 

"Well, it's your money. If you want to do it, I guess 
you should." 

I got Marianne alone that night and brought up the 
issue. Her lips pursed as I explained what I had been 
thinking. 

"Don't do it just because she's being whiney about it." 

"I'm not. You know how unhappy she's been. I'm thinking 
this might cheer her up. At least it would give her 
something to get her mind off your folks." 

She was pensive a moment. 

"Yeah. That's true. I don't know. If you think it would 
help her..." 

"What do *you* think? You know her better than anyone 
else." 

Marianne sighed. 

"I guess you're right. She needs something else to 
think about." She nodded, looking up at me. "Go ahead 
and do it. She deserves it." 

Hayley's birthday was that Saturday, and Elizabeth came 
down from Santa Cruz for the weekend, staying in the 
guestroom on the first floor. Her appearance at first 
startled me, for she had shed her trim law office work 
clothes for a loose, casual look completely devoid of 
make-up or hair styling--a look that said "lesbian" 
fairly clearly to someone who had known her in her 
married life. I gathered, from the things she told us 
about school, that she was most likely "out" around the 
campus. 

We went to the Department of Motor Vehicles first thing 
Saturday morning, and Hayley posed proudly for her 
license photo. Wanting to surprise her, I had not said 
anything about my decision regarding the car. 

We went out to brunch afterward, and Hayley continued 
to push the issue as subtly as she could manage, which 
was not particularly subtle. 

"I can drive myself around now," she said over brunch. 
"But that's going to hard to do since Marianne will be 
using her car most of the time, right?" 

The rest of us snickered. 

"You can borrow one of my cars when you need to," I 
said. 

"Steve, you can't let her drive the Mercedes," 
Elizabeth said. "And she's too inexperienced for that 
big Jeep." 

"You're probably right." 

Hayley squawked in protest, and I watched her eyes 
filling with tears of disappointment. Her mother smiled 
at her. 

"Honey, sharing Marianne's car won't be that bad." 

She pouted and whimpered in frustration. Marianne 
pretended to comfort her, but Hayley pushed her arm 
away. She remained in a snit the rest of the meal. 

We left the restaurant and drove home. When we reached 
the main boulevard outside the neighborhood, I 
continued driving, past the entrance. I looked in the 
rear view mirror and watched Hayley's face perk up. 

"Um." 

"What?" 

"Where are we going?" 

"I feel like going for a drive." 

Elizabeth and Marianne tried to remain still, but I 
could tell that Hayley sensed the sudden shift in 
energy. But she kept her mouth shut for the moment. 

I drove down toward the beach, where the car 
dealerships were lined up along the freeway. Hayley's 
eyes had by then swelled to enormous proportions, and 
when I stopped the Jeep in the middle of the road to 
make a left turn into the Ford dealership, she let out 
a squeal of excitement. She bounced in her seat with 
her hands clasped on her chest. 

When I pulled into the lot and parked the car, she was 
bouncing up and down in her seat looking around at the 
cars. Elizabeth, who was sitting next to her, put her 
hand on Hayley's arm to get her to calm down. 

"Honey, you know this is a big responsibility." 

"I do! I'll be so careful with it! I won't do anything 
wrong! I promise!" 

"And you know that Steve is doing you a very big 
favor." 

"Yes!" She gasped for breath a few times. "Can we get 
out and look now?" 

The rest of us laughed, and we got out of the car. 
Hayley ran around excitedly looking at the cars on the 
lot. I knew she wanted a Mustang convertible, which was 
why we were here instead of somewhere else. I 
intercepted the inevitable salesman when he appeared, 
and deflected his attempts to guilt-trip me into 
spending more than I wanted to. But eventually we found 
a car Hayley was happy with, a cherry-red model priced 
about the same as what I had spent on Marianne's Bug. 
We dickered over the details for about an hour before 
signing the papers. The salesman handed the keys to 
Hayley with a flourish, and Hayley appeared ready to 
faint from excitement. 

She and Marianne drove home in the new car, and 
Elizabeth and I followed in my Jeep. 

"They're happier than I expected them to be," she said 
when we were about halfway home. 

"They seem to be doing all right, considering 
everything." 

"I know you've done so much for them, so I don't want 
you to take this the wrong way, but it hurts a little 
to see them like this." 

I pondered that for a moment. 

"Because it makes it seem like they don't need you as 
much as you thought." 

She nodded. 

"They do. Trust me. They're trying to keep a stiff 
upper lip because they know how important this dream of 
yours is to you. But they do miss you. A lot. We talk 
about it all the time." 

She took a deep breath. 

"Thank you." 

"You're welcome." 

She smiled at me. 

"Marianne would marry you tomorrow." 

A chill ran through my stomach. 

"I know. But it's too soon for her. One day, maybe." 

"If it happens, can you please not refer to me as your 
mother-in-law?" 

I laughed hard for several seconds. 

"All right. I won't. I promise." 

Hayley would have slept in the car that night if we had 
let her, but she spent nearly every available minute in 
it for the next few weeks. I indulged her and let her 
drive us around whenever we went anywhere, although I 
did it in part to keep an eye on how she was doing. She 
was the envy of most of her friends, particularly the 
rest of the J.V. squad, though I was unsure how much 
she had told them about where it came from. 

A few weekends later, as she did nearly every Friday 
night these days, Hayley went out with her friends and 
her new car. Marianne and I planned to go out alone 
until the phone rang about six-thirty that evening. She 
came into the bedroom while I was getting dressed. 

"That's Giselle. Do you mind if she comes over?" 

"And goes out with us?" 

"Yeah. Ashley's got something going on with her folks, 
and she's bored." 

"I guess so. Sure." 

She went back to the bedroom, and I listened to her 
talking to Giselle. She returned to the dressing area 
about a minute later and began pulling off her clothes. 
She got down to bra and panties and poked through her 
closet for a minute. 

"What do you think I should wear?" 

"Whatever you feel like." 

"I don't know what I feel like. What do you want me to 
wear?" 

I laughed. 

"Dangerous question." 

She smiled. 

"I'll risk it. I feel like being a Barbie doll tonight 
anyway. Dress me up." 

I laughed again. 

"Okay." 

I looked through her closet for a moment or two before 
looking back at her. I made a dismissive wave with my 
fingers. 

"Get all of that off. Let's start from scratch." 

Her bra and panties hit the floor in a matter of 
seconds, and she stood there smiling at me. I had to 
take a moment to admire her, from her long blonde hair 
to her deliciously curvaceous silhouette, firm breasts 
and butt, all of it perversely accented by the little 
gold ring in her navel and the kitten tattoo under her 
bikini line. Every time I looked at her like this, I 
was consumed by two inconsistent desires: to lock her 
away forever so no one else could touch her, or expose 
her to the world so they could all see how damned lucky 
I was. 

She saw all of this going through my eyes and smiled. 

"I could just go like this if you want." 

And she probably would have had I asked her, but I 
wasn't going to. 

"Next time," I said, and turned back to the closet. 

Marianne had turned into something of a clotheshorse 
since becoming my steady, and I saw a fair amount of 
stuff I had never seen her wear. After poking through 
it, I found something I liked, a loose, gauzy slip 
dress. It wasn't quite see-through, but the pale blue 
fabric would not cover very much. I pulled it out and 
showed it to her. 

She took it and held it against herself, smiling. It 
fell no further down than mid-thigh. 

"You do realize that is really supposed to be worn with 
something under it, like a T-shirt?" 

"It is?" 

"Yeah. But do you want me to wear it like this?" 

"Try it on." 

She took it off the hanger and pulled it over her head, 
letting it drop down over her. The fabric clung to her 
chest, and the neckline was so low and loose that she 
would expose herself simply by bending over. Even 
without doing so, the shape of her full breasts was 
quite visible. 

She posed for me, turning a circle on her toe. 

"A bra just isn't going to work under this either, you 
know. A visible strap would be all wrong for this 
look." 

I gulped. 

"And without a bra, you might as well not bother with 
any panties." 

She grinned. 

"Works for me. Anything else? This might look a little 
classier with nylons." 

"Stockings?" 

"Of course. Hold-ups or garters?" 

"Hold-ups." 

"Done." 

She went to her lingerie chest and extracted a pair of 
ivory thigh- highs. She bunched one up, then sat on the 
chair by her dressing counter and pulled it carefully 
up her shapely leg. The sight was so erotic that I had 
to glance away for a second lest I be tempted to seize 
her on the spot. The end result, when she was done, was 
quite delicious. 

"You aren't going to be overdressed for Giselle?" 

"I told her to dress up a little. We're still going to 
Bernardo's, right?" 

"Right." 

"Okay. She should be fine." 

I finished with my tie, and while Marianne worked on 
her hair, I called Bernardo's to change the reservation 
from two to three. The maitre 'd told me it wouldn't be 
a problem. 

Giselle arrived about fifteen minutes later. She wore a 
short black skirt and a long sleeved peasant blouse in 
red silk. She gave Marianne a brief once-over and 
grinned. 

"Nice. Maybe illegal, but nice." 

"I didn't feel like underwear tonight." 

Giselle looked pointedly at the hem of Marianne's 
dress. 

"Nothing?" 

"Nope." 

Giselle glanced at me, smiling. 

"Now I don't feel so daring." 

I laughed softly. 

"You never wear them. I forgot about that." 

"We've all kind of ditched the panties lately," 
Marianne said. 

"We?" 

"The gang. I told Tiff she can't wear them anymore, at 
least until I say so. I've been doing it when I wear 
skirts. I'm not sure what Ashley is doing, though." 

"I haven't talked her into it yet," Giselle said. 

We climbed into the Jeep and headed down to the beach. 
The maitre 'd greeted us warmly (he knew Marianne by 
now) and led us to our table by the window, which they 
had already reset for three people. He helped Marianne 
and Giselle into their seats and expressed his wishes 
for a pleasant evening before withdrawing. 

"This pretty nice," Giselle said. 

"We come here a lot," Marianne said. "They know him, so 
they always kiss our butts like that." 

After ordering dinner, Marianne and Giselle fell into 
gossiping about school. 

"I know you guys probably don't want to hear this," 
Giselle said, "but people are starting to talk about 
Hayley." 

"What do you mean?" I asked. 

"I was talking to my little brother, he's a sophomore 
too, and he was telling me how people are starting to 
talk about how she never seems to date anyone. That she 
goes out with her friends, but she never goes out on 
dates." 

"What are they saying?" Marianne asked. 

"Well, just understand that I don't think anyone means 
this seriously -- I didn't get that impression from 
Phillip -- but they're starting to joke about your 
living arrangements. Like she must be sleeping with 
Steve too." 

My heart skipped a beat or two. 

"But they're not serious?" I asked. 

"I don't think so. But think about it: she's one of the 
cutest girls in the whole grade, and she hasn't had a 
boyfriend since last year. I mean, she's the head of 
the J.V. squad. People expect her to be dating. The 
fact that she isn't is making people talk, even without 
considering who she's living with." 

Marianne glanced at me in concern. I shrugged. 

"I don't know what there is we can do about it." 

"She'll never go out with someone just for appearance's 
sake," Marianne said. "She's not like that." 

"Not to mention that it would be unfair to the guy." 

Giselle picked at a crumb on the tablecloth. 

"I just thought you'd want to know. I don't have a clue 
about what to do either." 

The food came a little bit later, and we spent a few 
minutes discussing what we had all ordered. 

"What ever happened with that story you were writing?" 
I asked Marianne. 

"The porn thing? I'm still doing it." 

"You're writing a porn story?" Giselle asked. 

"Not just a porn story. A story about what we've been 
doing. I've been posting it on the Internet." 

Giselle's eyebrows went up. 

"You don't think people will recognize you?" 

"No. I changed all the details or just left stuff out. 
In the story, I'm a redhead. Plus the twist is that 
I've been writing it from Steve's perspective. It's 
been really popular. I've gotten like four hundred 
emails about it." 

"And people read this stuff online?" 

"It's a whole subculture. I'll show you when we get 
back. They have discussion groups, regular reviews, all 
sorts of stuff. Some of the people who do it take 
themselves a little too seriously--I mean, I once read 
this review that actually compared some story to 'The 
Great Gatsby,'--but if you don't fall into that trap, 
it can be a lot of fun." 

"Huh. Am I in it? Could I read it?" 

"You're in it. But don't worry. I made you out as the 
babe you are." 

The rest of the dinner was uneventful, though I enjoyed 
all the looks and glances the girls were getting from 
the other patrons. Giselle's blouse kept slipping off 
her shoulder, making it fairly obvious that she wasn't 
wearing a bra. Most of the time, she left it there for 
several minutes before moving it back up. Meanwhile, 
Marianne's big breasts would bounce and jiggle in her 
dress whenever she moved around. Now and then, she 
would pretend to stretch in her chair, drawing every 
male eye within range to her chest. 

"Show off," Giselle muttered at one point. 

"It's not like I can do much to hide them." 

"You're certainly not trying." 

Marianne giggled and glanced at me. Giselle leaned 
forward and looked down at the table. 

"I've been thinking of getting breast implants 
someday." 

Both of us looked at her in surprise. 

"Don't," I said. 

"Yeah, don't," Marianne said. "Seriously, you don't 
need to." 

"That's easy for you to say." 

"I'm serious. When you're forty, you'll be glad you 
don't have boobs like mine. I've heard my mom complain 
about it. I'm kind of worried about it myself, to be 
honest." 

"Work with the look you've got," I said. "Don't try to 
turn yourself into someone else. Implants may look 
nice, but after a few years, they don't feel natural 
anymore, if they ever will." 

Giselle looked up at me. 

"Really?" 

"Really. They can get hardened with scar tissue or 
stretch your breast all out of shape. I'm speaking from 
experience here. I've known women who had it done and 
later wished they hadn't. Breast implants are more 
trouble than they're worth as far as I'm concerned. If 
you do it, you may really regret it someday." 

"Huh." 

Marianne stroked her arm. 

"You've got nice boobs. Don't mess with them." 

"You do," I said. "Forget implants." 

Giselle shrugged. 

"Ashley thinks so too, but..." 

"She's right." 

Giselle nodded. 

"Okay. You're right. Thanks." 

I paid the check and we left. Hayley was still gone 
when we got home, and the three of us moved upstairs. 
The girls watched me as I hung up my jacket and pulled 
off my tie, giving me sly looks and glancing at each 
other. Both of them slipped out of their shoes, and as 
I returned to the bedroom, Giselle was playing with one 
of the straps of Marianne's dress. Watching my 
reaction, she pulled one strap slowly over Marianne's 
shoulder, then the other. Marianne pulled her arms 
close to her body and allowed the dress to fall to the 
floor, leaving herself naked except for the stockings. 

Still looking at me, Marianne unzipped Giselle's skirt 
and slid it off her hips. Giselle's peasant blouse was 
long enough to conceal her, but Marianne began 
unbuttoning it slowly until Giselle's neatly trimmed 
sex was exposed. 

I pulled off my shirt just as Marianne slipped a hand 
into Giselle's blouse, fondling her breast. Then she 
pulled the fabric aside, exposing a nipple, and bent 
toward it. She extended her tongue and flicked it over 
the little nub of flesh. 

I quickly removed the rest of my clothes. Marianne 
leaned back, though she now had her left hand between 
Giselle's thighs. Her index finger moved slowly back 
and forth. 

"I think I know what I'd like to do," she said. 

"What's that, Kitten?" 

"Remember that thing we got the night Hayley got her 
belly ring? That we've never gotten to use otherwise?" 

"Ah. Yes." 

"What?" Giselle asked. 

Marianne pushed Giselle's blouse off her shoulders, 
leaving her naked. Then she took my arm and pulled 
it to Giselle. 

"Warm her up. I'll be right back." 

I led Giselle to the bed. She was smiling but clearly a 
little confused. 

"What is she doing?" 

"You'll see." 

I pulled her down beside me and embraced her. She let 
me kiss her, and I began playing with her little 
breasts. I crawled above her, moving down to suck on 
her nipples. 

"Marianne was right," I said softly. "You'll be glad 
you have these when you're my age." 

She smiled. 

"Thanks." 

I got both nipples wet and erect before sliding down 
between her thighs. She moaned and arched her back as I 
stuck my tongue into her, lapping up her sweet fluids. 
She was distracted enough (as I intended) that she 
didn't see Marianne returning to the room. Marianne 
stroked my leg, and I looked behind me, seeing her 
standing there wearing the strap-on. I rolled to the 
side, and she climbed onto the bed to take my place. 

Giselle looked down and gasped, then shrieked in 
laughter. 

"Oh, my God! Where did you get that?" 

"At that store by the University." 

She pushed Giselle's legs apart and lowered herself 
down, taking the dildo in one hand. Giselle continued 
laughing. 

"Oh, God. Wait." 

Marianne worked the head of the dildo against Giselle's 
labia as Giselle grabbed at Marianne's shoulders, 
tensing in anticipation. Marianne pushed forward into 
her, and Giselle groaned, arching her back. 

"Oh, Jesus." 

"I'm going to fuck you, girl. Just spread 'em and take 
it." 

Giselle shrieked in laughter again, but opened herself 
for Marianne. I lay beside them, trying not to laugh, 
as I watched Marianne begin thrusting into her. Soon 
they were humping at each other, kissing passionately, 
rubbing their breasts together. Marianne stayed deeply 
inside her, only withdrawing a few inches each time. I 
wanted to join them, but I didn't know what to do until 
I got an idea about a minute into it. 

I crawled around behind Marianne, who instantly 
realized what I wanted. 

"Oh God, yes, fuck me." 

I poked my erection between her buttocks, finding her 
wet sex between the straps. She tried to spread herself 
as best she could, and I forced myself into her. She 
moaned, pushing down at Giselle. 

Now the three of us were all fucking each other, with 
Marianne trapped in the middle. She began withdrawing 
as I did and let the force of my thrusts push her back 
into Giselle. Pinned on the bottom, Giselle could do 
little but thrust up at us, but I could tell from her 
reactions how much she was getting off on this. 

Soon we were all moaning and grinding back and forth at 
each other, the two girls kissing and groping at their 
breasts and buttocks. Giselle got there first, 
thrashing and clawing up at us. Marianne came next, 
arching her back and shuddering against me. With two 
girls coming under me at once, I lost it rather 
quickly, spurting off as deeply into Marianne's belly 
as I could get. 

I rolled off of them, but Marianne stayed on top of 
Giselle. I lay there resting as the girls finally 
separated and giggled over what they had done. Marianne 
took off the dildo, offering it to Giselle, but she 
wasn't interested in trying it on, at least tonight. 
They started making out again, and I stayed out of it 
for now, watching them finally end up in a sixty-nine 
position, frantically licking and sucking at each 
other. 

By that time, I had gotten up again, and I crawled 
around behind Giselle. Marianne looked up at me, 
grinning, and wiggled her tongue stud over Giselle's 
clit. Then she extended her tongue into her friend, 
guiding me in. I slid my dick along the stud, still 
marveling over how something so simple could feel so 
good. 

The girls got each other off before I came myself. 
Marianne wriggled out from under Giselle, and Giselle 
rolled over, letting me get on top of her. Marianne 
climbed around to squat over Giselle's mouth, facing 
me, and commenced kissing me and tweaking my nipples as 
I finally finished myself off. 

The girls stayed in bed, but I got up to clean myself 
up and put on a robe, as I had a few things I wanted to 
do in my office before I went to sleep. Hayley came 
home a few minutes later and stuck her head in the 
door. 

"Hi." 

"Hey. You have fun?" 

"Yeah." She looked past me at the computer screen. 
"What are you doing?" 

"A little project I'm working on." 

"Are you going to make us a lot of money?" 

"Hopefully." 

"Cool." 

She kissed me good night and then went to bed. 

This "project" of mine was not quite as little as I had 
led Hayley to believe. A month or two ago, I had come 
across a stock I thought was badly undervalued. The 
company owned the patent on what it claimed would be 
the next generation of Internet routers, and though its 
IPO had gone well initially, rising from 24 to 62, it 
had since fallen to just under 12. 

After researching it, I kept thinking that something 
had to happen eventually. When the stock bottomed out 
at 10 3/4 three weeks ago, I had quietly bought up 
almost a million dollars worth. It was a significant 
chunk of my net worth, but I had been in the mood for a 
gamble lately. I reflected that I might not be wearing 
gold chains, but hanging around all these young girls 
was still affecting my perspective. 

I reviewed the performance of the stock over the last 
week, seeing that it had scarcely moved. It had no 
reason to move yet, though; the company hadn't done 
anything different. What I was hoping for was something 
out of left field. So far it hadn't happened. 

I shut off the computer and leaned back in my chair. I 
had been so deep in thought that I hadn't realized that 
I could hear Marianne and Giselle talking in the 
bedroom through the air vent. 

"...I just hope you realize how fucking lucky you are." 

"Hey, I have my own problems, okay? My life is not 
exactly a bowl of fucking cherries right now." 

"I'm sorry. That's not what I meant. I didn't mean 
about your dad getting busted. But you are pretty lucky 
to have someone like Steve to help you deal with it." 

"Yeah, well, I know that." 

"I'm not talking about all the stuff he's bought you, 
either. How many guys do you know who are as cool as he 
is? You know, I was serious about getting implants 
tonight before we talked about it. You know how my dad 
and brother are always laughing at me for having little 
tits." 

"I know. That's pretty lame of them." 

"My brother calls them 'tater tots,' and my dad just 
laughs at him. When I brought it up tonight, I half 
expected Steve to make a joke about it, you know? Just 
because he's a guy." 

"He'd never do that." 

"But my dad is like that about everything with me. He 
makes fun of me for wanting to go to college, you know? 
He's always saying how I don't need an education, I 
just need to find some guy to knock me up and trick 
into marrying me. He actually thinks that's funny. 
Steve gives me a thousand bucks for college, and my dad 
gives me shit like that." 

"Wow." 

"I swear, the only goddamn thing in the world he cares 
about is whether my little brother gets a football 
scholarship. Believe me, I'd move in here in a 
microsecond whether my dad got busted or not." 

The whole world seemed to pause half a beat as that 
remark sank in. I exhaled slowly, waiting for 
Marianne's response. I hoped she would be able to 
handle it without hurting Giselle's feelings. But then-
- 

"So move in with us. You're eighteen and we've got the 
room. What the fuck are your parents going to do?" 


CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE 
-------------------

I waited in my office until Giselle emerged to say good 
night. She gave me a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek 
on her way out. 

"Bye. Thanks for dinner." 

"See you later." 

I checked on Hayley, seeing that her light was out, and 
only then went back into the bedroom. Marianne was in 
bed in her nightshirt, inspecting her hair for split 
ends. I put away my robe and brushed my teeth before 
joining her. 

She rolled over next to me when I got in bed. 

"What do you think of Giselle?" 

I was too tired to play games. 

"I overheard your conversation. Somehow it drifted in 
through the air vent." 

Her face paled a little, but she stayed put. 

"And?" 

"You're serious about this." 

"Steve, she needs us. You heard what she was saying 
about her father?" 

"Yes, but--" 

"If you'd ever met him, you would understand. I mean 
he's not--" She gulped and looked away from me. "He may 
not have the same problems my father does, but he's not 
a very nice person. He can really be mean sometimes. 
Really, really mean. I've seen him reduce Giselle to 
tears with some offhand remark. And he's said nasty 
stuff to me too, trying to be funny. You can probably 
guess what about." 

"Your breasts?" 

"Right. Like, 'Hey honey, you ought to get some of what 
Marianne there is getting, then maybe you wouldn't 
still look like your brother.' Stuff like that. It's no 
wonder she wants to get breast implants." 

I sighed. 

"I appreciate that. But I am not running a home for 
wayward girls here. You and Hayley are a special case. 
It doesn't mean I can bring in the rest of you." 

Her jaw began to vibrate. 

"We have the room, don't we?" 

"That isn't the point." 

"You can't afford it?" 

I gritted my teeth. 

"I probably could. But come on. Look at what you're 
talking about. You want her to move out of her parents' 
house and in with us? Before she's even out of high 
school?" 

Her eyes darkened. 

"I'm in the same place she is. Do you have a problem 
with that?" 

"No, but--" 

"What? She wants to do it. She knows better than we do 
what her parents will do about it. I'd like to help her 
out. I mean, she's one of my best friends, and I care 
about her. She's pretty responsible. She'd carry her 
part of the load. She wouldn't be a burden. And she has 
a job, I bet she'd kick in for the expenses." 

I exhaled, staring at the ceiling. 

"You really want this?" 

She crawled onto my chest and set her chin on her arm. 

"Is it that much of a problem? She's eighteen. It 
wouldn't be illegal or anything." 

"What if her father shows up on our doorstep with a 
shotgun?" 

"He won't." 

For some reason, I started laughing. How had I ended up 
in this situation, three gorgeous teenage girls wanting 
to live with me? And I was trying to argue my way out 
of it. For a good reason, I kept telling myself. 

Marianne caressed my forehead. 

"Please? Couldn't we just try it?" 

"What about Hayley? You know she's in an emotionally 
fragile state right now." 

"I'll talk to her. But I bet she'll be okay with it. 
She likes Giselle." 

"Liking her and living with her are two different 
things. But... I guess... see what she thinks. Just 
make it clear that this is your idea, not ours. I don't 
want her to feel outnumbered. And don't lean on her 
about it, okay?" 

"I won't. I'll be nice, I promise." 

Despite her resolve, Marianne did nothing the rest of 
the weekend, and I spent much of Monday at work 
wondering what she was about to precipitate. I kept 
telling myself that this was insane, then I would think 
about the fifty million men in America who would 
probably leap at the chance to switch places with me. 

Okay. Giselle was eighteen. That at least wasn't an 
issue. What about appearances? This was beginning to 
look like I was accumulating a harem. Except the girls 
didn't seem to care, and all of this was their idea. I 
hadn't suggested any of it, right? I wasn't coercing 
any of them. 

Then we had Giselle's parents. Her father might be a 
jerk, but I had a hard time thinking he wouldn't care 
about her moving in with me. Then I had a thought: He 
wouldn't know the reality of it. He didn't know that I 
had been sleeping with Giselle -- that I had deflowered 
her, for Christ's sake -- all he would know was that 
his daughter was moving in with her friend and her 
friend's boyfriend, taking one of their spare rooms. 
From that perspective, it might not be enough to have 
him reaching for his shotgun. If in fact he owned one. 
This wasn't the same thing I had gone through with 
Elizabeth and Charles Mulcahey. 

Maybe, just maybe, if Giselle was already trying to do 
things on her own (since she had a job, right?), and if 
her father was halfway serious about just wanting her 
married and out of his hair, her parents might be 
willing to put up with the situation. 

The one wild card was Hayley. If she seemed at all 
reluctant about it, I was going to veto the idea 
immediately. I had too much of a responsibility to her, 
bordering on assuming her parentage. I really felt like 
she needed my undivided attention right now, and 
bringing Giselle into the household was not going to 
help. 

When I got home that night, I found Marianne in the den 
watching television. She looked up at me but said 
nothing. I bent to kiss her. 

"Well?" 

"I told her. I can't tell what she thinks. You should 
go talk to her." 

I went upstairs and into Hayley's room. She was lying 
on her bed staring out the window. I sat beside her, 
and she sat up and hugged me. She squirmed into my lap 
and laid her head on my chest. 

"You understand that I'm very ambivalent about this 
idea. It's something Marianne and Giselle thought up." 

She nodded. 

"If you're not 100% okay with it, it won't happen." 

She took a slow breath. 

"I like Giselle. She's cool. And I understand about her 
folks." 

"None of which are necessarily reasons to have her move 
in with us." 

"If she did, it would be just a roommate thing, right? 
She'd take the room downstairs?" 

"I think so." 

"It wouldn't be like it is with us? She wouldn't be..." 
She paused, smiling. "She wouldn't be one of your 
kittens, like me and Marianne?" 

"No. Absolutely not. No one is going to take your place 
with me. Your spot is secure. I like her, but I don't 
feel half of what I do for you." 

She hugged me. 

"I love you." 

"I love you too, Little Kit." 

She sat in my lap for another few moments. 

"I guess it's okay. I don't mind then." 

"You're sure?" 

She nodded, then got off my lap. I kissed her forehead 
and then went to change out of my suit. Marianne 
appeared a few minutes later. 

"What did she say?" 

"She's okay with it, provided it doesn't interfere in 
this little family arrangement we've got going right 
now. Giselle cannot be equal to the two of you." 

A serious look spread across Marianne's face, and she 
stepped up to me, putting her arms around my waist. 

"No. She most definitely is not going to be equal. Now 
and then, I have no problem with her coming up here to 
fool around the way we have been doing. But I am still 
number one no matter who else comes into this house." 

"Yes." 

"I am your girlfriend. You have some special 
relationship with Hayley that I can't quite find a 
label for, but everything beyond that is just fun and 
games. It's me, Hayley, and then everyone else." 

"Absolutely." 

"I like Giselle, but I don't love her like I love you 
and Hayley. I told Hayley that, and I think she gets 
it. I'm going to keep telling her so she doesn't get 
insecure." 

"Good." 

She smiled slyly. 

"I don't mind creating some kind of harem thing here, 
but we have to have some ground rules. I am the mama-
san of this little cathouse, okay?" 

I laughed. 

"Or kitten-house. I get it. You're number one. Don't 
ever worry about that." 

A few days later, I came home to find Giselle moving 
into the guestroom downstairs with Marianne and Hayley 
helping her. She had brought along a suitcase and two 
big cardboard boxes, which proved to be her entire set 
of belongings. 

I got a beer from the refrigerator and took a long swig 
to calm my nerves, listening to the girls chattering 
about how to set up Giselle's room. 

I stepped into the doorway, and Hayley came over to hug 
me. Giselle gave me a weary smile. 

"Thanks. I really appreciate this. I know it must be a 
lot to take." 

I shook my head. 

"How did you manage it? Did you just walk out?" 

"Um, no." 

She glanced at Marianne, who sat back on the bed, 
brushing her hair over her head the way she always did 
when she wanted to gather her thoughts. 

"Her folks don't know yet. She and I went over to her 
house this afternoon before anyone got home and packed 
up her stuff. She just left them a note." 

"Oh." 

"They don't know exactly where we are. So it's not like 
her dad will be storming over here." 

Thank God my phone number is unlisted, I thought. 

"But what do you expect them to do?" 

Giselle shrugged. 

"I don't know. I guess we'll see." 

That night, when everyone was in bed, I went around the 
first floor to check all the doors and windows the way 
I normally did before turning in. Giselle was in the 
downstairs bathroom, and she came into the kitchen as I 
was getting a drink of water. She wore long flannel 
pajamas, and her hair was tied back with a scrunchie. 

"You settling in all right?" 

She nodded, leaning against the counter across from me. 

"I want to say something, just so we're clear." 

"Okay." 

"I know we have a history, okay? Whatever else I ever 
do, you're the guy I gave my virginity to. That does 
mean something to me, but I want you to understand that 
I'm not here to disrupt your relationship with 
Marianne. Or with Hayley. I don't ever want to do that. 
You guys really have something special, and it would 
kill me to bust that up. I don't want to get in the 
way. If it ever gets like that, I'll go. I'll get out 
ASAP." 

"I think we should be all right. Marianne and I have 
talked about it. It's Hayley you ought to worry a 
little bit more about. She's still having problems 
because of what happened with her folks." 

"I know. Whatever I have to do, I will." 

"Thanks." 

I bent forward and kissed her on the forehead. 

"Go to bed." 

She giggled a little and went to her room. When I 
crawled into bed and turned out the lights, Marianne 
reached for me under the covers. I thought at first she 
just wanted to snuggle, but when she reached into my 
shorts, I realized she wanted something more. 

I pulled off her nightshirt, and she slithered under 
the sheets to remove my boxers. I felt her mouth 
enveloping my dick and the stud in her tongue going to 
work. She quickly had me erect, and she kept up a slow, 
steady massage against the underside of my erection, 
moving the stud in broad circles over the head. I 
finally had to pull her off, and she crawled onto my 
chest, straddling me. I reached between us to make the 
connection and sank slowly into her wetness. 

She lay on my chest, moving slowly up and down. I 
caressed her smooth buttocks, reaching around to feel 
myself going into her. Then she lifted up a little and 
kissed me. 

"Are you happy?" 

I pushed up at her slowly. 

"Hmm?" 

"It's a simple question," she said softly. "Are you 
happy?" 

"When I'm making love with you, you have to ask me 
this?" 

She giggled, pushing back down at me and squeezing me 
gently. 

"I mean in general." 

"Yes. Very happy. I have you; I have Hayley. I just 
want you two to be happy too. If you're happy, I'm 
happy." 

She rocked her hips against me gently, moaning. 

"I am. Most of the time. I'm dealing with my dad. The 
therapy is really helping. I think it's helping Hayley, 
too. But I still miss my mom. I wish she was closer." 

I pulled her down and kissed her softly. She continued 
rocking herself against me, and I reached up to caress 
her full breasts, moving my fingers over her stiff 
nipples. 

"I know. I understand." 

"I could go to school with her. If I got in. But then 
I'd have to leave you." 

Marianne had applied to U.C., and I knew she had picked 
Santa Cruz as one of her potential campus choices, 
though it wasn't at the top of her list. 

"We could move." 

She froze. She didn't say anything for a second or two. 
In the darkness, I couldn't read the look on her face 
above me. 

"Do you mean that?" 

"I can do what I do from just about anywhere. The 
company might not be happy about it, but I think they 
would let me." 

She dropped down and hugged me tightly. 

"Thanks." 

"That's the future. We'll talk about it later." 

She giggled, moving her hips again. 

"Right. Later." 

Giselle's attempt to avoid her parents lasted all of 
about eighteen hours. Her father was waiting for her at 
school the next morning, and they went straight into a 
meeting with a counselor. Marianne called at lunch to 
fill me in, informing me that the school had declined 
to get involved, citing the fact that Giselle was no 
longer a minor. 

"I'm betting that he's going to follow us home, though. 
So, if you think you could, it might help if you came 
home early. We have cheerleading practice after last 
period, but we should get home around four." 

"Okay. I'll see you then." 

I left the office at three-thirty, getting home just 
before four. No one was home, so I changed out of my 
suit, not wanting to look any older than I really was. 
At four-o-five I heard the garage door going up. I 
opened the garage door to see Marianne's Bug pulling 
into the third space. Giselle was in the passenger 
seat. Out on the street, her father was pulling up in 
his car. I stepped into the garage, but Giselle was 
already getting out of the car to face her father. 

I came up behind Marianne, who stood in the garage 
doorway. Giselle stood a few feet away from us as her 
father came stalking up the driveway. He was not a 
large man, in fact he looked an inch or two shorter 
than she was, and he wore jeans and a knit shirt with 
"Sears" stitched over the breast. 

"Daddy, go away. I'm not your responsibility anymore." 

"You're going to get in that car right now, young 
lady." 

"No." 

He stepped up to her, trying to grab her arm, but she 
evaded her grasp. 

"Let go of me! Go away!" 

He finally seemed to notice me, and he gave Marianne 
and me a quick appraisal. 

"And just what are you getting yourself into here?" 

"I'm just renting her a room," I said. "But I'm 
becoming inclined to ask you to get off my property." 

"Not without my daughter." 

"Daddy, I left because you don't give a shit about me 
anymore. All you care about is Phillip and his 
goddamned football scholarship." 

He glared at her, fuming, but she went on before he 
could say anything. 

"Can you name a single one of my friends besides 
Marianne? Do you pay attention to anything I do? Has it 
ever gotten through to you that I really do want to go 
to college? How much it hurts to listen you talk about 
my future as if all it adds up to is getting pregnant?" 

Giselle had started to cry in the midst of this tirade, 
and she wiped the tears out of her eye now. 

"Fuck you! You want to know something else about me? 
I'm a lesbian! I've been fucking girls for six months 
now. I bet you never even noticed, did you?" 

Her father's eyebrows shot up, and he lost a step or 
two back down the driveway. 

"That's right. Your daughter's a dyke. A lesbo. So no 
one's ever going to get me pregnant." 

He stepped further away from her, panting for breath. 
He glanced at me, then back at his daughter, who stood 
there sobbing into her hand. Marianne went to her, 
pulling her into the garage, and the two of them went 
inside. Her father's eyes went unfocused, and he looked 
dizzily around the front yard. 

"I think you should probably go now," I said. 

To my surprise, he nodded slowly and walked unsteadily 
back to his car. He got inside and drove away. I 
watched him go with a distinct feeling that we would 
never see him again. 

I found the girls inside. Giselle lay on her bed 
crying, and Marianne sat next to her trying to comfort 
her. Giselle calmed down in a few minutes, and then 
began laughing weakly through her tears. 

"I think that should do it." 

"The lesbian bit, you mean?" I asked. 

She nodded. 

"My dad is like... the poster-boy for heterosexual 
panic. He won't be able to think straight for a week." 

"I'm sorry." 

"He was going to find out sooner or later. Might as 
well tell him now." 

I left the girls together after that and went to my 
office to finish up on the things I had bailed out on 
at work. Hayley got home about ten minutes later, and I 
listened to them talking down below. Then she came up 
to my office, still wearing her uniform from practice. 

"Hey." 

"Little Kit." 

She sat on the corner of my desk. 

"They told me what happened. That was pretty lame. I 
feel sorry for Giselle." 

"Yeah." 

"So I guess she's here for good now." 

"Looks like it. Still sure you're okay with this?" 

She nodded. 

"I'm getting used to it. It's kind of like a slumber 
party." She giggled. "Plus sex." 

"Right." 

Giselle insisted on making dinner that night, and the 
other two girls did the dishes. After that, they 
watched television or did their homework while I 
puttered around in my office. Hayley reappeared just 
after ten-thirty in her pajamas. She hung on the door 
jam, letting her blonde hair swing around her 
shoulders. 

"Steve? Would you spend the night with me tonight?" 

"Sure." 

She smiled. 

"Thanks. I'll be waiting." 

"Give me a few minutes." 

Marianne apparently knew about this idea, and I kissed 
her good night before heading for Hayley's room. Her 
door was shut, so I knocked gently. 

"Come in." 

Her lights were off, but enough moonlight came through 
her blinds to illuminate the room. She was under the 
covers, waiting for me. I slipped into bed with her, 
and she snuggled against me. I quickly realized that 
she was naked already. No real surprise there. 

We kissed and fondled each other for a few minutes, and 
I soon found myself suckling her big breasts. She had 
almost the same shape to her that Marianne did, just 
slightly smaller. She sighed quietly as I worked her 
nipples back and forth with my tongue, getting one, 
then the other, standing up in damp arousal. 

I reached down and found her belly ring, giving it a 
light tweak. She giggled, hugging me, and I reached 
further down to the prickly nest between her thighs. 
When I began to play with her, she pulled me up to kiss 
me, shivering and biting at my tongue when I tweaked 
her clit. 

Her hand found my erection. She stroked me softly as I 
masturbated her, gnawing on my shoulder. She was soon 
warm and wet against my fingers, and I slipped one into 
her. She gasped, squeezing my hard-on tightly. I pushed 
my middle finger all the way into her, pulling it back 
against her clit. I worked my palm against her sex for 
a minute or two before she shivered against me in 
orgasm. 

The tension gradually left her body, and she rolled 
onto my chest as I lay on my back beside her. Her hand 
had remained on my erection, and she slid under the 
sheets to take me in her mouth. Her technique was not 
as expert as her sister's, but she clearly enjoyed what 
she was doing, and that was enough for me. I pulled her 
up after a few minutes and rolled her on her back. She 
pulled me on top of her, and I penetrated her slowly. 

I bottomed out inside her, enjoying the warmth and 
tightness for a moment. I looked down at her, realizing 
that she was staring up at me. 

"Steve?" 

"What, baby?" 

"Do you really believe me when I tell you I love you?" 

I just -- I think -- barely managed to prevent her from 
sensing my shock at such a question. She might have 
felt my erection suddenly weakening inside her, but I 
hoped she wasn't paying attention. 

"I believe you, honey." 

"Do you promise?" 

"I do." 

"I'm sixteen now. I'm not a kid. I think I know what's 
love and what isn't. I've had crushes before. This 
isn't a crush, okay? I really love you." 

I kissed her as firmly as I could. 

"I believe you, Little Kit. And I love you, too." 

And, I realized as I answered her, I meant it. 
Something in her voice just then had convinced me. As 
we began to make love again, losing ourselves in each 
other, one small part of my mind tried to reflect on 
this development. Having someone genuinely in love with 
you was nothing to lament, I thought, even under these 
circumstances. Maybe even if -- but no, I thought. I'm 
not going there. I won't cheapen her like that. She 
deserved better than to have me try to psychoanalyze 
her feelings, not when I was making love to her, for 
God's sake, not when she was shuddering in orgasm 
underneath me, holding me tightly and gasping against 
my shoulder. 

Not when, on the brink of orgasm myself, I realized I 
would kill anyone who tried to hurt her. I would hunt 
them to the ends of the earth. 

Just take it for what it is, I thought. She loves me. 
That should be enough. 

Continued in part three...

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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 48