Potential - Book 3

by EroticScribbler

©Copyright 2018 by EroticScribbler

Chapter 20 - Mothers Know

Evan looked at his mother's text again, "Went to the airport. Go do any work you have to do. Everything is going to be all right. I love you." Electronic communication without emojis was void of emotion and often misinterpreted. Evan tried to picture his mother typing the message. Had his father been standing there, forcing her to hide her feelings between the lines? No, Evan imagined his mother hiding in the bathroom, crying while her thumbs dashed across the letters. His father might walk in and read it, so she had to hold back what she really wanted to say. Was everything going to be all right because his father would be in China, or did she plan on handling his father again? That hadn't turned out well, and Evan had no intention of ever letting it happen again.

The black eye was a dull ache that Evan hardly noticed, but his crushed pride hurt like a broken arm that would end his racing career before it started. Sadness and anger competed for control of Evan's mind. He hadn't taken a swing or even tried to get out from in front of his father's fist. Had his mother's tits stunned him, or hadn't Evan expected his father to punch him?

Eventually, he would have to tell Deana how he fucked up their mother's newfound happiness, but Evan planned on postponing that as long as possible. He left the house right after his parents, too early to do anything except drive around and spin his thoughts as a spider's web of shoulda, coulda, and woulda. In his mind, Evan walked through the scene over and over, each time the outcome was more favorable for his side. Yes, he fought back, gave it to his father in words and fists, pulled Candy's shirt closed over her chest, wiped away her tears, hugged her, and kissed Candy while his father lay unconscious on the floor.

When Evan reached Miss Style's house, there was no point in announcing himself because she knew he was coming. Nobody had seen him since his father decked him, and if possible, Evan would keep it that way until the evidence was gone. Deana, Gloria, and Candy didn't need to see the purple-black sign of weakness painted on his face. More than that, Evan was afraid to see his mother's neck. Had his father punched her, too? He couldn't stop picturing Candy in a giant pair of sunglasses and a scarf tied around her neck.

In the old barn that doubled as Miss Style's garage, Evan decided to handle the lawn first. That would give him an opportunity to step on an imaginary rake before he saw anyone. Unfortunately, unlike in the cartoons, a shiner wasn't instantaneous, but it would be plausible later when he saw his sisters. Also, if he were extra toasty after the yard work, he could accidentally fall in the pool while cleaning it.

Before Evan opened the side door of the garage, he heard a splash. Miss Style must know I'm here, he thought, so that meant she wanted him to see her in a bathing suit. Or, if she was a freak like Miss Tonya, Style might be naked.

The plunk, plunk, plunk sound of a steady kick increased with each of Evan's long, hurried strides. The rhythmic sounds were interrupted by a slosh and water droplets splattering, so he paused for a moment. When the plunking and splashing resumed, Evan imagined the woman had gone under, reversed directions, thrust off the wall, and glided like a torpedo below the surface. He ascended the grass slope, approaching the green, Cosmopolitan style three-rail aluminum fencing. The height was designed to keep kids out. Evan lifted his right foot over and grabbed the top rail, throwing his left leg so his body rotated over the fence. His sneakers met the concrete that framed the pool without announcing him. All Evan saw were the stroked arms and the uplift of water that the kicking feet caused.

After scanning the large backyard, Evan quickly crossed the ten feet of patio and looked down into the pool. It wasn't Miss Style. If there had been any logical context to support what Evan saw, he would have recognized the ass that cut a wake through the water, but seeing a naked person in the communion line at church would have made more sense than what he saw in Miss Style's pool. It was like seeing Mrs. Henderson, the cafeteria lady, in Walmart without her uniform. His brain would signal recognition but wouldn't tell Evan who she was.

The powerful body moving through the water like a seasoned swimmer activated pleasure sensors, but the red ponytail, slapping side to side, triggered Evan's mental search engine. One lap, two laps, two and a half-Evan's brain gridlocked, wondering what the fuck Darlene was doing there.

Darlene stopped swimming and rolled over in the water. Her tits briefly broke the surface, then the redhead went under. Her bathing suit had a pale flesh tone that matched her skin, making her appear naked. Evan gulped when Darlene propelled herself with frog-like leg thrusts. He waited without making a sound.

The water stirred, and Darlene's hands wrapped around the shiny chrome ladder. Evan took a deep breath as she pulled herself up. Her head was tilted back, and her eyes were closed. Water and white flesh spilled from the bikini top. The small triangles were stretched thin under the weight, revealing the deep red rings of Darlene's nipples. Evan watched the centers plump and bulge.

The redhead pressed her hands against the bridge of her nose and squeegeed her face. Evan looked into that spellbinding spot between Darlene's hips. The strings that looped over the rounded knobs of her hip bones were practically lost in the V-shaped grooves carved into her groin. The rest of the bikini bottoms were too small to cover the girl's bush if she had one.

Evan saw a moment of surprise before Darlene's face went back to the disinterested expression he was used to. Without speaking, Darlene dug into her top, hoisted, juggled, and stuffed as much tit as she could into the bikini top. As far as he was concerned, all she did was take what had overflowed at the bottom and made more spill out into Darlene's cleavage. He imagined her biceps would bump what pushed out to her sides when her arms swung. Her nipples were still growing.

Darlene said, "Evan, hi," in a tone that suggested she was annoyed at him.

Evan might have responded with an unintelligible sound, but it didn't matter because Darlene turned away from him and started walking. The strings holding her top in place cut into her sides. He wanted to untie the bow and watch her gorgeous melons drop, bounce, and roll outward.

The bottoms were a meaningless patch at the cusp of Darlene's ass cleavage. Her cheeks were fully exposed, moving with her ass as if she wore four-inch heels. Evan watched the sway, the rise and fall, and the jiggle. It was an erotic GIF.

Darlene reached the lounge chair with a towel on it and bent at the waist with her feet close together. She paused longer than necessary to pick up the towel. Her thighs touched all the way up to the gap at the top of her legs, where a textbook porn pussy threatened to burst out of her swimsuit. Evan had been imagining what the redhead looked like without clothes for a long time, and now he pretty much knew. It wasn't a huge, traumatic letdown like finally seeing Candy's tits had been.

While drying her face, Darlene straightened up and turned around. "Were you staring at my ass?" she asked and flipped the towel over her shoulders like a cape but didn't pull it around her chest. The red areolas were cresting, shoving their hard centers out against the bikini top.

Evan licked his lips, and his first unfiltered thought spilled out, "Who wouldn't?"

Darlene almost smiled and started toward him. He tried to swallow, but the walls of his throat stuck together. There was no reason to be nervous, but Evan was. When Darlene was too close, she looked up at him and said, "At least you're honest."

Evan's thoughts scrambled with a sense of déjà vu. Hadn't he already been close enough to notice how blue Darlene's eyes were, and minus some freckles, how familiar her face was? "What are you doing here?" he asked.

Darlene said, "Swimming," and started to walk away without saying anything more, just like at school.

He heard another voice coming from behind him, "Darlene, remember what we talked about."

His head snapped around. Miss Style was coming up the stone path toward the gate, glaring at Darlene. She was fully dressed in what looked like business attire; unfortunately, not a bikini. He turned his head back, and Darlene was directly in front of him. She said, "I'm sorry," her chest bumped against him, "it's not your fault. I shouldn't act that way."

The kiss was so unexpected that Darlene's mouth was moving away from his before Evan realized how good her lips felt. He wanted a do-over, but she left without adding another word. Miss Style smiled and ran her fingertips across Darlene's stomach as they passed each other. Evan watched the redhead's ass until she reached the door and disappeared into the shadows of the screen porch.

"You know, Darlene?"

"I certainly hope so," Miss Style said. "If I didn't, a strange girl was swimming in my pool and just went into my house."

It was annoying, even though a sarcastic response was what his stupid question deserved. "How?"

"We're friends."

Evan waited for more, then asked, "What did she mean? It's not my fault?"

"That's not important now," Miss Style said. "Would you do me a favor?" Evan's mouth opened, then closed when he realized it was like when his mother asked questions. "Give Darlene a ride home. I have to run." Miss Style reached into her pocket and pulled out a Ben Franklin.

"Thank you, of course, no problem, as soon as I'm done here."

Miss Style's hands slid up Evan's forearms and squeezed. "Thank you. You're a sweetheart. Sorry, I won't be here to watch you work, but I know you'll do a great job. Thanks for taking care of Darlene. Have fun."

Evan was afraid his brain wasn't capable of saying anything intelligent, so he nodded and watched the woman leave. Something about Style excited him, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Deana was awake enough to know that it was a knee touching her stomach. It made her smile even though she knew waking up with Rebecca's body touching hers would be a hard habit to break when school started again. They'd have to go back to the occasional weekend sleepovers. Deana didn't open her eyes. She wanted to prolong the lazy, hazy period between fantasy and reality and make sure Rebecca woke up in the same mood she was in.

With a growing smile, Deana slid her hand up Rebecca's thigh. Her sleepy mind anticipated fondling Rebecca's ass. Moving under the nightshirt, Deana found the round cushion. Her heart rate increased. The globe overflowed her hand, and Deana's fingers dove deep into the gap between the two halves. They hadn't been lovers for long, yet Deana already knew her girlfriend's butt by touch, and it wasn't Rebecca's ass in her hand.

No wonder Evan was always handling Gloria's butt, Deana thought as she peeked through the strands of black hair draping her face. Gloria was sprawled face down like someone who had fallen from a building, legs, and arms bent at crazy angles. Her head wasn't on the pillow; it was stuffed under it. The knee in Deana's stomach was connected to Gloria's left leg, which jutted out at a forty-five-degree angle from her body. It was one thing to appreciate another girl's well-defined ass, but touching it shouldn't make her warm between her legs. Did her body's response confirm Deana's fear?

Deana reluctantly moved her hand away from the ass that felt as good as it looked. A bit of envy stirred in her heart. "Wake up," she whispered and lifted the pillow off her sister's head. "Wake up, bedbug."

"Aw." Gloria's head turned, and her eyes fluttered. "Oh, Dee." Her legs pushed straight out, and her body arched in a long stretch. "Mmm."

"Why are you in my bed?" Deana asked.

Gloria pushed up, fell on her side, and did a few full-body shimmies to finish turning over on her back. "You mad?"

"Nah." Deana stuffed the pillow under Gloria's head and asked the question, even though she knew the answer, "Did you have a dream?" She turned on her side, facing Gloria.

Gloria's face scrunched with concentration. "Mm-hmm."

Deana knew she was Gloria's second choice, and that didn't bother her because she knew about the dreams. "Why didn't you go upstairs?"

"Something happened to Evan in my dream. It might have been a fight, but he's not home." Gloria fidgeted, moving closer to Deana. "Dee, what's a meddler?" she asked. "Is it a bad thing?"

Deana took a deep breath, put her arm over Gloria's stomach, and summoned the courage required to play the role of big sister. "Meddler, that depends," she said. "Who said it?"

"Never mind." Gloria looked away. "I, ah, I know."

"Gloria, we don't have secrets. Sister's tell-all," Deana lied.

Gloria shivered and hugged her chest. "Daah, Dad-"

Deana's question was out before she could stop it, "Did he hurt you?"

"No, no." Gloria's head shook repeatedly. "He was in a bad, really bad mood. He said mean things, that's all."

"Good." Wasn't it ridiculous to be grateful that their father had only said mean things? "What did he say?"

"Dee, I'm scared. What if he makes me leave? What if he sends me and Mom back to the trailer park? He said that."

Deana refused to cry. "He'd never do that, but if he did, he'd be all alone because I'm going with you. Evan, too."

"He's mad at her and me," Gloria said. "He said I'm a meddler just like Mom. What did he mean? Did Mom do something?"

"What else did he say?"

Gloria rolled toward Deana. They were face-to-face. "Why was he so mad at Mom?"

"Listen to me," Deana said, "don't worry about that. He's talking stupid. You're not any of those things. Neither is Mom. She saved us from him. Saved me and Evan. If it weren't for her, we would have been alone, stuck alone with him. Nobody to love us and protect us. She saved us." The tears had their way, and Deana hated her father for making her cry again. "Mom isn't a meddler. She's a hero. I'm sorry you had to get dragged into this with us."

Gloria used the sheet to dry Deana's tears and said, "I'm not sorry. I love you. We're a team."

Their hug was powerful, and they trembled, neither willing to tell the whole truth. Gloria burrowed her face in the crook of Deana's neck, and their legs tangled together.

"Deana?"

"What?"

"Does kissing Rebecca feel good, um, make you feel good?"

Deana squinted her eyes. "What makes you think I kiss her?"

"Um, I guessed."

"You been spying again?" Deana asked.

Gloria rolled on her back and stared at the ceiling. "Not really. I notice things, and I-"

"You notice them because you're looking where you shouldn't be looking. Now admit it, you were spying."

"Dee, I swear, I wasn't spying. I might have forgotten to knock and might have seen something, but it wasn't actually spying. I learned my lesson last time."

"Did you close my door right away, or did you keep watching? If you kept watching, then that's spying."

Gloria said, "I think you're trying not to answer my question."

"Is that so," Deana said.

Gloria smiled triumphantly. "It's so!"

"How much did you see?" Deana asked.

"Enough to know you been kissing a bunch."

"You snoop-a-doodle. One of these days, you're gonna see something you wish you hadn't seen."

"Maybe I already did, but answer my question already."

"Yup, it does. Kissing Rebecca makes me feel good. Why, you wanna kiss her too? She's totally into you. Said you got a better ass than me." Deana took her turn wearing the victory face. Her little sister would learn to mind her business one way or another.

Gloria flipped on top of Deana. "Really? Will you be jealous if I do?"

Deana stared at Gloria's face, searching for a hint of sarcasm. All she found was the blue eyes and face that reminded Deana of their babysitter before-

"Are you, um, are you in love with Rebecca?" Gloria asked.

Deana sighed and put her hands on Gloria's butt. "Do you go up to Evan's room like this . . . without underwear?" She honked the shapely ass playfully, but it still stirred something in the pleasure zone where her orgasms started.

"Please don't treat me like a kid, Dee, please. I'm not. You know that, don't you?"

Deana wished she didn't know how grown-up Gloria was. "I'm sorry. I'll try and remember." Her face flushed as the words came to her lips, "Yes, I love her. We love each other." Had she just admitted to being a lesbian?

"Aren't you scared?" Gloria asked.

Deana nodded and brushed Gloria's hair off her face. "You think I'm bad?"

Gloria shook her head with tears building at the rims of her eyes. "I did it, I did it, too, but I'm not in love. I did it because it felt good. Does that make it, make me bad?"

Deana wrapped her arms around her sister. She could feel Gloria's heart thumping through their crushed breasts. "Gloria, there isn't anything bad about you. I love you."

"Thank you. I love you more, a thousand times more than anybody."

"Don't tell your mother that."

"I love her too, but it's different, a different kinda love. You know?"

"I do," Deana said. It was that mutual suffering that made their bond of love so strong. They knew each other's secret, but neither would say it out loud.

Darlene had been in the house the whole time Evan worked, then, as if she had been watching, she came out ready to leave as soon as Evan finished. Once they were in the car, Evan got the impression Darlene would rather walk. The first ten minutes of the drive were painfully quiet. He glanced her way often. Darlene's presence was tangible, and it drew Evan in, even if he didn't want to be drawn. All but three inches of her pale thighs stuck out of her denim mini-skirt. Her knees were raised, swaying side to side, taunting him, but it was Darlene's profile that kept his attention. The redhead who had been called Carrot Top, and worse, had a very pretty face.

The rural two-lane road didn't have any subdivisions, just plenty of large plots of land, farms, broken-down shacks, rusty trailers, and an occasional fruit stand. Evan had no idea where they were going, so he broke the silence, "When do I turn?"

"Look for Sunny Haven on the left," Darlene said. "There's a big sign. You can't miss it."

"Okay." He wanted to kiss those lips again. "What did you mean, it's not my fault?"

"Nothing," Darlene said.

Evan took his eyes off the road and gave her a hard, searching look.

"We don't have time for that now," Darlene said, continuing to stare straight ahead.

"We have a few minutes," he said, "and there's always tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Darlene pushed her feet against the floorboard, lifted her butt, and tugged on the skirt. "Tomorrow, there's no tomorrow. We'll be strangers again tomorrow."

"What? I'm not like that, not that kind of person."

"No, but you're not from the same world as me. You hang out with your people, and I hang with mine."

"Wait a minute." He reached for her. "You don't give me much credit. I'm not a dick or a stuck-up cheerleader. That's not the best example, but you know what I mean."

"That would be crazy, though, and sexy. One of my fantasies."

"Nice change of subject," Evan said, his anger building. "My sister tries that, too."

Darlene said, “Deana? How is she and that little wildcat friend of hers?"

"Wildcat? You mean Rebecca?"

"Yeah."

Evan had no intention of dropping the subject, but he was intrigued by what he assumed was a description of Rebecca, not a nickname. "Why do you call her that?"

Darlene's expression suggested she was surprised he didn't know. "I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually."

"Oh," was all Evan said.

"About that other thing," Darlene said. "I didn't mean a guy in cheerleader's clothes." Some of the stiffness seemed to go out of Darlene, and she turned her body toward Evan. "I meant a girl with a dick. You ever seen a shemale?"

Evan considered how serious Darlene sounded. "I have the Internet."

"I had this dream," she said. "It was so real that it was more like a vision. Since then, the idea of a sexy woman with a cock turns me on. I fantasize about it. Big breasts and a sexy round ass, plus a dick. What would you do if we were dating and you thought we were going to do it, but you found out I had a big cock?"

"You been with many women?" he asked.

"Nice try," Darlene said. "Answer my question."

Without looking at her, Evan answered. "If you were actually you, and I was going with you, I'd probably faint."

"That's a cop-out. Here's what I think you'd do. You would turn me around and fuck me in the ass while you jerked me off."

Evan realized the fuckin' redhead was one of the girls from the internet that he fantasized about. In his fantasies, though, he never felt like he was in over his head. Darlene was all he'd heard, imagined, and more. Evan blew out hard, hoping she'd talk about anything else.

"I guess that sounded crude," Darlene said. "Sorry, sometimes I let out thoughts that are better kept to myself. You think I'm a slut?"

Darlene caught Evan off guard again. "No." His stomach twisted. "I think you're honest and matter-of-fact." Special was the word that Evan almost said. "Nothing wrong with that."

"That's nice, thank you. Your mom raised you to be one of the nice people."

"Stepmom, you know she's my stepmother, right?"

"A stepmother is still your mother. She must be special."

Evan saw the sign for Sunny Haven. It was large but unimpressive. He made a left into the trailer park, thinking about Darlene's words and how their conversation had made another drastic turn. It was weird how she used the word he had been thinking. What did she mean by special? "She is."

Darlene pointed at a tan and white double-wide trailer. "Over there."

The wooden steps up to the door looked like they had collapsed and been thrown back together without nails.

"Okay, thanks for the ride. See ya," Darlene said like a stranger he had picked up hitchhiking.

Evan felt rejected. "Hold on, wait up," he said and jumped out of the car.

Darlene stopped at the foot of the precarious steps and said, "Don't you have something you need to do?"

Evan stepped closer, challenging. "Why the cold shoulder all of a sudden?" She told me her most bizarre sexual fantasy, he thought and added, "Not even a kiss goodbye?"

She glanced in the direction of the door, then looked down at the dirt. "Evan, I didn't lose a glass slipper, and you're not gonna take me back to the castle. You see how it is. Don't make it hard. It's not like I can invite you in, or you're going to call me. It'll never work." She started turning away.

Now Evan was angry. "Wait." He yanked Darlene toward him. "I told you I'm not like that." He pulled her mouth to his. Darlene responded with aggression. To Evan, it didn't feel like their second kiss. It was familiar and passionate. He squeezed her face between his hands and stared into her eyes, looking for a sign. "What is it about you?"

"It's my aura," Darlene said. "It makes guys want to fuck me." She pushed away. "As much as I'd like to get fucked right here on my porch, it can't work. Go back to your world."

Darlene was inside before Evan spoke, "No, it makes me want to love you." His words were only heard by the mud-stained front door. He never thought having a lot of money could be a disadvantage.

Inside the trailer, Darlene leaned against the door until she heard Evan's car drive away. Like she could really let him love her, even if he wasn't her cousin by marriage. The boy had no clue what kind of girl she was. Darlene walked toward the woman on the couch and said, "I'm home." When there was no response, she added, "Did you notice I was gone?" She'd notice if the assistance checks stopped coming, Darlene thought and continued down the narrow hallway into her room. The door shook the flimsy wall when she slammed it. "Fuck, how the fuck!"

Style is right, Darlene thought. It wasn't Evan's fault. He didn't even know, and Candy might not be her aunt. If she was Aunt Candy, why didn't she stay in touch, invite Darlene over, and act like an aunt? It had something to do with her husband, Darlene thought, but what?

Darlene turned in a circle, searching her paneled room for something, anything that could make her feel better. Being bad was her medicine, and she needed a huge dose, a Boy George-sized dose of bad medicine. The bed hit the wall when she threw herself on it. Darlene sat Indian Style and pulled her journal out from under the pillow. There was a pair of shiny scissors inside the cover. The cool steel warmed quickly on her inner thigh. Could she cause enough pain to distract her from reality?

When Evan drove away from the Sunny Haven trailer park, he was wondering what kind of psychological mystery drama he had stumbled into. That morning, Darlene's name wouldn't have caused a twitch on his emotional meter. She was just some girl he used to know in school. Evan had forgotten about her red lips, the body that was on par with his mother's, and the redhead's high step, ass-shaking walk. He had moved on to girls he could actually have sex with, talk to, and fall in love with. Darlene had only existed in Jason's fantasy world, where Jason probably had threesomes with her and Becky. How quickly things changed in Evan's life.

The fuckin' redhead was an enigma, and she still rejected him, but she had become a challenge again. Evan wanted to understand her. He needed to strip off the layers of peculiarity and find out who Darlene really was and how she knew Miss Style. However, Evan might have been looking for a conquest so he wouldn't have to pursue the two lovers who would break his heart in the end.

A droplet of blood filled the divot created by the scissors. Darlene thought back to when she was young and first discovered ways to escape. Masturbation had been her first avenue. It was as if she had been born sexual; she couldn't remember being taught or experimenting; she always knew where to touch herself. It felt good, but her friends thought it was wrong. Their parents told them it was bad. If adults saw it as deviant behavior, it worked for Darlene because being bad was good. She loved seeing the shock or disgust on someone's face when she got caught touching herself or worse.

Darlene could remember the day as if it had just happened, but she couldn't remember whose birthday party it had been. It certainly wasn't hers; foster kids didn't have clowns at their parties. The clown had been blowing up long balloons, making animals, and handing them to some of the girls, but he stared at Darlene for a creepy moment before giving her one long balloon. The second it was in Darlene's hands, rubbing against her skin, the thought came. She pressed the long balloon against the front of her body, between her budding breasts. Her nipples swelled, and the evil thought festered in her dirty little mind. Casually, she slipped the uninflated tip between her lips, sucking air into it and flicking it with her tongue. That was exciting, and it made Darlene squirm like a kid with ants in her pants.

When the birthday girl started opening her presents, Darlene snuck out of the room and ducked into a bedroom. It was the first birthday party anyone had invited her to, and Darlene saw how wrong her life was. She'd never had a party for any of her birthdays and didn't remember ever getting a present she liked. The realization was painful, and Darlene needed a shot of emotional Novocain.

She wanted to get naked but only pulled her pants down and rubbed the head of the balloon on her crotch. Nothing that fat had ever been in her, and Darlene didn't expect it to fit, but she pushed it between her spread legs anyway. The balloon flattened and bent. Darlene used a fingertip to tuck the uninflated rubber tip between her tingling pussy lips, sliding it up and down. The limp tip glistened with her excitement. She fingered some of the floppy end inside her narrow opening and gently pumped the long, phallic clown prop into the pink groove. Desire and need turned to frustration, which made Darlene squeeze.

"Ohhhh, God," she cried out. Her tight sphincter stayed closed, but air rushed through and inflated the top of the balloon inside her body. Lubricating juices surrounded the intrusion. Darlene took a deep breath, twisted and wiggled more of the clown cock into her body, and flattened the balloon against the mattress with both hands.

The air that had been under Darlene's hands was suddenly forced inside her body. Slippery with crazed excitement, the expanding rubber stretched and filled a void that hadn't existed before. She bit her tongue to keep from screaming but didn't lift even a finger to ease the painful pleasure.

The clown, handing her the balloon, flashed through Darlene's mind. She should have been upset by his uninspired offering, yet she took it happily with a smile. Whether it had been developed or she'd been born with it, Darlene didn't know, but the sixth sense was there. She had known what the clown wanted, and now she was taking it the only way he had been willing to give it to her.

Darlene went crazy, squeezing and ramming the clown's cock into her. It stretched her deeper and wider and created a huge hunger that Darlene would never be able to satisfy.

The balloon finally popped and triggered the most incredible orgasm Darlene had ever had. She looked down and saw a burst of fluid squirting out of her pussy. She held herself open, thrashed her clit, and sprayed the bed again. Eventually, Darlene would call it making her honey squirt, but that day she thought she had pissed.

It was a shame playing with herself didn't work anymore. Darlene lifted the scissors and prepared to stab her leg harder than the last time.

The redhead-induced amnesia didn't last long enough. Ten minutes after Evan left Darlene, his brain had returned to his mother's face, the red ring around her neck, and his failure to protect her. His eye hurt again.

Evan's phone rang, and Jason's name flashed on the display. Talking to his friend was as good an excuse as any to delay going home, so Evan pulled off in a strip mall parking lot. "Hello."

"Hey, dude, what are you doing?" Jason asked.

"I was driving back from Miss Style's house. Now I'm stopped in the parking lot by Wendy's, talking to you."

"Well, did you ask her about us skinny dipping?"

Evan shook his head. "Jeez, no, I told you I'm not gonna."

"Was she even there this time?" Jason asked.

"Ah, yeah, yeah, but only for a minute. She had someplace to go. Paid me and took off." Evan was thinking about Darlene again.

"Bummer," Jason said. "What time are we leaving tomorrow?"

"I'm grounded. My father wasn't cool with me racing. He was pissed."

"What'dah ya mean you're grounded? No way! I told you not to tell him. It's always better to do it and say you're sorry later. We got those girls, and you gotta race. You can't be grounded."

Evan put the phone back to his ear once Jason stopped ranting. "I'm grounded!"

"Race, racing, what about racing? You gonna blow off the one thing you're good at just because your dad was mad?"

"I bet-" Evan caught himself before saying, I bet Becky thinks I'm good at more than one thing. Then he thought about Miss Tonya and Jayda and realized he couldn't boast about any of the girls he'd had sex with, and now he wasn't going to tell Jason about Darlene, either. "Calm down," he said.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. The thing is, you cannot be grounded. This is supposed to be the best summer of our lives. We got two horny girls who will do anything. Think foursome, one better than threesome."

"Jason, I'm not interested in KK. Besides, my father punched me in the face. He's pissed like I've never seen him pissed."

"He actually punched you!" Jason said. "Your head didn't come off?"

"It felt like a car ran me over when I woke up this morning. Still hurts. I got a black eye."

"He punched you, wow. What happened?"

"What do you think happened? I went flying and crashed onto the floor."

"Yeah, I figured that, but I mean, did you talk back or argue first?"

"Um." His mother's torn blouse, breasts, and the look of terror on her face flashed through Evan's mind. "No. Maybe he was drinking, I don't know, but he's never punched me, not like that, not in the face. He told me if I wanted to race, I'd have to support myself."

"You want me to ask my mom if you can stay here? Becky would love it."

"No, no, not yet anyway. Listen, you can't tell anyone, not even Becky. I don't want Deana worrying about it."

"What about your mother? Does she know? What did she say?"

"No, my mother wasn't there. She doesn't know. I guess she might know now if he told her, but I'll talk to her later."

"That's good," Jason said. "You don't want to get her in the middle. Punched you, wow, and you lived. Amazing."

"Yeah, thanks. I gotta go."

"Grounded, but you're going to race-"

"I'm allowed to work and go out if my mother tells me to, that's all."

"Isn't your dad leaving for China? If he's halfway around the world, how could he find out?"

Evan huffed. "I gotta go."

"Fine," Jason said.

Instead of ramming the steel into her leg, Darlene opened her journal. It was sad that she hadn't started writing stuff sooner. Seeing it on paper was better than in her mind. She started flipping through the notebook, looking for the day that changed her life.

Darlene had been thumbing for a ride that day after shoplifting at the mall. Hitchhiking and shoplifting were dangerous thrills, and even though Darlene thought of being raped or killed, it didn't deter her. She had expected the short skirt and tight T-shirt to attract some horny guy in a pickup truck, but it was a white Acura that pulled over. It was too good to be true. A woman was driving. When the window didn't come down, Darlene opened the door, leaned in, and said, "Hi."

The lady in the car said, "Hello," and cleared the seat. "Hop in."

Darlene got in and closed the door, then took a good look at the driver. Her blouse was opened far enough to expose a large portion of her left tit. It was white, too white for someone with jet-black hair. "I'm Darlene."

"Yes, you are." The woman extended her hand. "Very nice to meet you, Darlene," she said in a voice that dripped with honey. "I'm Style, Style Pioneer."

Does she know me? Darlene wondered, shaking the woman's hand. It was strong and held on too long for a hello handshake. "Nice to meet you, too."

Style Pioneer's eyes were hazel with a blue ring around the iris. Like a snake's eyes, Darlene thought.

Darlene realized her hand hung in midair between them. Style said, "You have the most beautiful eyes."

"Thank you," Darlene said, taking a deep breath and then releasing it, along with all of the relief she felt about being picked up by a woman. Handling horny guys, Darlene could do that, but this Style Pioneer made her nervous. Darlene could feel her, if that was possible, without touching someone.

The woman asked, "Where are you going?" but the car was already moving toward the interstate entrance ramp.

Darlene said, "Sunny Haven-"

"Really? Today is your lucky day," Style said. "I live out that way. Have to go right past it."

They talked for twenty minutes. Style was friendly and had a girlish smile. She won Darlene's trust even though she rarely trusted adults. When the woman asked if she wanted to see her new house, Darlene ignored the hairs tingling on the back of her neck and agreed.

When the car turned and started down the long driveway, Darlene thought, this is how psycho-killer movies start. What choice did she have now?

"Welcome to my castle," Miss Style said.

Darlene got out of the car and turned in a circle. The house was huge and had a presence like the woman who owned it. Something was jingling. Darlene turned and saw a giant black dog coming toward her. She looked over the car with questioning eyes. The goth-looking woman smiled and said, "Don't worry, sweetheart, he's friendly."

The massive dog stared up at Darlene. She cautiously held out her hand. The dog ignored it and shoved his snout between her legs and sniffed. Instead of preventing what she knew was coming next, Darlene shivered as the tongue shot out and dragged across her crotch. Too bad she was wearing panties.

"Brutus," Miss Style said and pulled him back. "I'm sorry."

Darlene felt something twisting deep inside her body. Her cheeks flushed, and she realized she was leaning against the car. If her new friend wasn't there, Darlene would have yanked her underwear off and spread her legs. "It's okay," she said, "he's just being a dog."

"I know, but that's not the first impression I wanted you to have of my house."

The crappy old mattress creaked and jerked Darlene out of her reminiscing. She was disappointed to find herself in the trailer where she lived, not at Miss Style's, where she always wanted to be.

Evan wasn't sure why he didn't tell Jason about Darlene,but after they were off the phone, he told himself it wasn't important compared to being grounded. The truth was that Evan didn't want to share Darlene with Jason. She had been his challenge before Becky started bringing Darlene over to Jason's house.

It was time to go home and talk to his mother, but Evan drove his grandmother slowly. He was afraid to face Candy and look into her eyes, the eyes which had shown terror. Would there still be red marks on her neck?

Evan's thoughts went back to imagining what his father might have put Candy through, and then Evan mentally shifted gears to Deana. She would ask questions, and he would lie. Wouldn't she know he wasn't being honest? Deana would be upset, maybe mad at him for causing their mother pain. Man up, he told himself, and pressed the accelerator to the floor, just making it through the yellow light.

In the driveway, Evan was relieved because his mother's car wasn't there. That feeling was immediately followed by shame. It was bad enough he got Candy involved and couldn't protect her. Now, he didn't have the balls to talk to her.

When Evan got in the house, he went to Gloria's room and asked, "You drawing more porn?"

"No!"

"What is it then?"

Gloria turned around in her chair, and her eyes widened. "I knew something happened to you."

"Huh?"

"Daha, your eye, in my dream, something happened, a fight or something."

"You and your dreams," he said. "It was a big bad rake I was fighting with. I stepped on it, and pow, right in the eye."

"Oh," Gloria said.

"Oh? Are you disappointed I didn't get beat up?"

"No, you didn't, you kick some ass in my dream. See." Gloria picked up the pad and shoved it in Evan's face.

He took a step backward so he could take in the whole drawing. The degree of detail was astonishing. The shirtless medieval warrior was pointing a club at the sky. Every muscle on his body rippled, and his foot was on the neck of an incapacitated giant. Evan swallowed hard, wishing he had lived up to his sister's expectations. "Seriously," he said and pointed at the long ridge up the front of the caricature's shorts.

Gloria's shrug and head flip said, yes, seriously, so Evan moved on. "Where's Mom?"

"She's up to something with Miss Tonya," Gloria said.

"Up to something? What does that mean?"

"You know, doing whatever adults do when they don't want kids around."

Evan thought for a long time before asking, "How do you know?"

"She dropped me off and went to Miss Tonya's house. Jayda is at Alex's."

"Oh," he said. "Deana?"

"At Rebecca's."

"Ooh, so we're finally alone," he said flippantly.

Gloria stood on Evan's feet, threw her arms around his neck, and pulled herself up until the tips of their noses touched. What Evan saw stunned him. He grabbed his sister's butt, and her legs started wrapping around him as he lifted her. Gloria's interwoven fingers held the back of his neck, and she leaned back as far as her arms allowed. Evan was still staring, knowing why Darlene's blue eyes had seemed so familiar. It was scary to think his sister reminded him of the redhead.

"What should we do?" Gloria asked as she pulled herself in.

Evan wanted to hold his mother, and Gloria would make an excellent proxy, but he didn't know what would happen if she started kissing him. He might curl up with his sister on the bed and cry, thinking about Candy, or his love for Gloria and his lust for Darlene might merge. Were all of his needs, desires, and emotional connections becoming one sticky glob? "I don't know what you're gonna be doing," Evan said, "but I'm going to take a shower." He extracted himself from Gloria's clinging arms and legs and pretended she hadn't offered to wash his back.

Deana and Rebecca were wearing identical yoga pants when they walked into Rebecca's kitchen. Deana sat at the table. Rebecca collected Deana's hair and dropped it over the back of the chair, exposing Deana's neck. She kissed below Deana's ear and put her hands on her shoulders. "Is everything okay?"

Deana tilted her head back and made eye contact. "Yeah, why?"

"I don't know. You seem a little glum," Rebecca said, massaging Deana's neck.

"Mmm." She lowered her chin to her chest. "This morning, I was thinking about how much I'm gonna miss this when we go back to school."

Rebecca's fingernails gently raked across the top of Deana's chest. "Vacation just started. Don't spoil it by thinking."

Deana smiled and watched Rebecca's hands inching toward her breasts. Her nipples tingled in anticipation. Rebecca cupped her tits and lifted them. "They seem bigger."

"Is that bad?" Deana asked, putting her hands on top of Rebecca's and helping her feel herself up.

"No, I was just making an observation, that's all."

Deana took a deep breath and said, "Gloria knows about us."

Rebecca stuck her face in front of Deana's. "You told her?"

Deana shook her head. "She saw us."

Rebecca lifted her foot over Deana's body, straddled her, and then sat on her lap, facing her. "How and how much?"

Deana shrugged. "Not sure. Enough to know we like kissing. Maybe more, she's sneaky."

"Will she tell?"

"Not a chance."

Rebecca leaned back and put her elbows on the table. "How can you be sure?"

Deana sighed, wishing she didn't know. "She's great at keeping secrets . . . like me."

"Okay, so why do you look concerned?"

"Um, she wants to kiss you."

"What!" Rebecca said. "She told you that?"

"Sort of," Deana said. "I was joking to throw her off, not thinking, and I might have said you were into her. She took it the wrong way."

Rebecca was speechless for a few seconds, then she said, "You told your sister I was checking her out?"

"No, but were you?"

"Not like that, but it's hard not to notice her, kinda like your mom. She's hot too."

"Well, Reb, they both think you're hot."

"I swear I got goosebumps thinking about-"

"Stop thinking," Deana said.

Rebecca looped Deana's hair behind her ears and tilted her face up. "Are you worried about Gloria knowing or what she thinks?"

"No."

"Why not?"

She wrapped her hands around the tumbler's throat and said, "She likes kissing girls, too."

Rebecca's nipples turned into cones under her T-shirt. "Please tell me you kissed her."

Deana tightened her grip on Rebecca's neck and said, "I never kiss and tell," then she pulled their mouths together.

They made out until Rebecca had Deana's shirt up and was twisting her throbbing nipples. "Stop, not here."

Rebecca huffed. "Shit, kissing you is the most erotic thing, it sets me on fire. Fuck, I can't get enough of you."

"Mmm, I'm glad you feel that way because I love kissing you, too, but shouldn't we wait until your parents leave before you strip me and fuck me on the table?"

"I'm not sure I can wait that long," Rebecca said.

"Me neither, but we should at least go in your room."

"I rather do you on the table," Rebecca said and humped her crotch on Deana's thigh. "Have you for dinner . . . like Evan did."

"That can be arranged," Deana said with a smirk, "as soon as your parents are gone." She sucked and nibbled Rebecca's plump lower lip, then the lesbian kissing frenzy resumed, and Rebecca's hand went back to Deana's tits.

Later, when Candy came home, she went straight to her room and got in the shower. Evan used the time to mentally psych himself up. Not wanting to return to the scene of the violence, he waited in the kitchen for his mother.

Gloria strolled into the room and sat on his lap without an invitation. "I love you," she said.

Evan thought he might have raised his brow like Deana's questioning stare. "Thank you. I love you, too."

After an awkward few seconds, he gave her a raspberry on her neck and got the giggling squirm he wanted. The tip of Gloria's finger gently brushed his cheek. "Does it hurt?"

"No, not really," he said. "Can you do me a favor and give me a few minutes alone with Mom?"

"Why?"

"I need to talk to her about being grounded and see how mad she is and how mad Dad is."

Gloria mumbled, "Very," then added, "I'll go to my room and call Jayda and Alex with your phone." She grabbed his phone off the table. "Thanks."

Evan rubbed his head and watched her leave, figuring Gloria had heard what had happened from their mother. His anxiety increased.

Deana heard it first, but before she could say anything, Rebecca yanked her hands out from under Deana's shirt.

"Rebecca?"

Deana had to strain her neck to look behind her, where Rebecca was looking. "Hi, Mom," Rebecca said without showing surprise on her face.

"What are you girls up to?" Mrs. Stevens asked.

Deana's cheeks were burning, so she turned away. "Um, this is embarrassing," Rebecca said and looked at Deana. "Can I tell?" Before Deana could respond, Rebecca continued, "Deana has never kissed a boy. You know how her dad is. So I was, um, was showing her how."

Rebecca smiled nervously. Deana waited, expecting the worst.

Mrs. Stevens said, "Okay, but maybe do that in your room. We wouldn't want your father to get the wrong idea."

"Okay, sorry, it was a spur-of-the-moment thing. Deana didn't want to do it. She's really embarrassed now." Rebecca got off Deana's lap. "Look how red she is."

Mrs. Stevens looked at Deana with a smirk. "Yes, yes, you are, Deana, but no need, I understand these things."

Deana faked a smile and nodded.

"We're leaving soon," Rebecca's mother said. "There's plenty of stuff to eat. What are you two doing tonight?"

Deana shrugged and deferred to Rebecca, who said, "More practice, maybe. Deana needs it."

"You have anyone in particular that you're getting ready for?" Mrs. Stevens asked Deana.

She shook her head, but Rebecca was nodding furiously. "Yup, she does, and I'm a little jealous. He's really cute, but he's not interested in me."

Deana knew Rebecca wouldn't tell, but she could still feel her heart pulsing in her throat and hear it beating in her ears.

"Good," Ms. Stevens said. "We'll most likely be home late, so don't wait up."

When Rebecca's mother walked back to her bedroom, Deana punched Rebecca's shoulder. "Idiot!"

"Ouch." Rebecca rubbed her arm. "I had to say something."

"Yeah, I guess you did. We wouldn't want your mother to know, too."

Rebecca said, "I still can't believe Candy caught us like that and didn't freak out."

"She smiled like she was happy for me," Deana said. "That's weird, isn't it?"

"Kind of cool if you ask me," Rebecca said and grabbed Deana's crotch. "Fuck, you're excited."

"You're turning me into a horny slut who gets off on almost getting caught."

"Nah, you always were. I'm only helping you realize your full potential."

"I swear, as soon as they leave, I'm gonna fuck you up," Deana said.

"I can't wait that long." Rebecca shoved her hand down the front of Deana's yoga pants.

Deana's eyes met the tumbler's challenging stare. Rebecca smirked defiantly and Deana arched her back, pushing her groin forward. A spike of adrenaline warmed her face and released more lubricating juices. The door to Mrs. Stevens's bedroom was in sight over Rebecca's shoulder. If she opened it, Rebecca's body would be a shield, and Deana would pull her friend's hand from her crotch. Yeah, it's safe, she decided and let Rebecca think she was worried. "Stop, Reb. Don't do that here . . . your parents, please, stop. We might get caught." Why not give the tumbler a minute of excitement?

As Deana expected, just like when they played truth or dare, the little wildcat pushed the limits and grabbed a handful of her moist pussy. She had always thought her brain dictated what her body did, common sense ruled, but when one of Rebecca's fingers slipped into her fleshy channel and smashed her clit, Deana wasn't sure anymore. "Ah, your mom . . . Rebecca, your mother might-"

Rebecca cut Deana off with a quick thrust across her clit, and Deana's body showed her what it thought about common sense. She grabbed Rebecca's neck with threatening hands, ready to choke her, but instead, steadied herself so she could lift her right foot to the chair. She turned her knee out, and the tumbler's middle finger sliced through the wet slit. Deana raised both brows and put on her most effective, you better stop expression but didn't speak, and Rebecca didn't stop. Her arm threw short, fast jabs into Deana's pants. Each downward punch sent her curved fingers around Deana's pubic bone, across her clit, and into her cunt.

"Let go, baby, cum for me," Rebecca whispered. "I love watching you get off. It makes you even more fuckin' beautiful."

Not only had common sense taken a back seat to pleasure, but Deana's brain was riding in the trunk. Her body took over, and like the involuntary beating of her heart, Deana's nipples exploded with sensation. She pumped her pussy against the finger-fucking hand. If Rebecca's parents came now, they would get to see her in the throes of orgasm.

"Holy shit," Rebecca said, "you're gushing, gushing all over my hand."

Deana wasn't sure what was happening, but she couldn't take anymore. She clung to Rebecca for support and clamped her thighs shut on the tumbler's hand. It might have been the best climax of her life.

Evan was prepared for sunglasses and a scarf around his mother's neck. She would be upset and mad at him, and he would apologize a thousand times. That's what Evan was expecting when he faced the doorway into what his father deemed the adult annex. Evan could not have foreseen nor equipped himself for what happened next.

The woman who entered the kitchen wasn't wearing sunglasses or a scarf. All of Evan's preparation had been a waste of time. His rehearsed apology was a stupid tongue twister that clogged his throat. Who was that woman staring at him from the other side of the kitchen? Evan was paralyzed.

What had once been blue jeans were now shredded as if her bulking thighs had burst them and the legs had fallen away. A belly button ring would have complemented the ZZ Top T-shirt that was tied in a knot below her chest. It acted as a sling for Candy's huge breasts. Makeup had been replaced with a youthful shine, and his mother's strawberry-blonde hair was pulled back in that ponytail Evan loved. The transformation that had been underway for weeks was now complete. Candy was back.

There seemed to be an invisible force field holding them apart. Evan leaned against it, but he couldn't move. "I, ah, I'm-" He tried to wet his lips, but his tongue was too dry, so he forced his words, "I'm sorry."

The invisible force reversed, and they almost ran at each other. Evan's tears boiled over before he collided with Candy. "Mah, oh, Mom, I'm sorry, I swear I didn't mean to-"

"Shh, don't, don't, Evan, it's my fault. I shouldn't have."

"No! I was the one who shouldn't have. I shouldn't have let that happen to you. I'm sorry I didn't help you."

"Please don't say anything, not yet." Her arms tightened around Evan. "Just hold me."

Evan held her head in his hands, pressing it against his shoulder. Her hot tears soaked through his shirt. A fist of pain grasped Evan's heart. He had loved Candy with the incomprehensible love of a child. If she had died like his mother had, Evan would have been crushed, broken, and empty. Then he would have healed, but Candy hadn't died. It had been like sand blowing off the dunes, a little at a time. His Candy had been taken away. He hadn't noticed at first, then she was gone. No, not gone, held prisoner by his father. Candy had been locked inside a box called Mommy. Once Evan realized who was behind the facade, it was a knife constantly cutting into his broken heart.

The minutes passed like hours while they hugged. Candy was supposed to be the warrior, the strongest person in the room. Evan wished she'd stop crying because it was making him angry. Candy drew in a huge breath and wiped her face on his shirt.

"Honey, you did what you love, what you're good at. Cindy told me how good you are. You didn't do anything wrong." Candy's arms restricted his chest, and a sob caught in Evan's throat. "It's all my fault. I'm sorry."

Evan's anger turned into fury, and he pushed back, holding his mother by the shoulders. "It's his fault, all his fault! What did he do to you? Did he hurt you?"

"Nothing, he didn't do anything." Candy mumbled with her face pressed against his chest, "I shouldn't have done this."

"What," he asked, "what shouldn't you have done?"

"I made a mistake, a huge mistake," she said. "I swear I didn't know. I thought I could make it work. It will. It's gonna work. I'm gonna make it better."

Gloria's warrior image of Candy seemed to come alive and snatch Evan out of the raging flood that was sweeping him away. He believed her even though his mind couldn't lay hold of any logical reason he should. "I know, I know," he said.

Candy turned away and walked toward the stove. A transparent veil of threads hung in front of the sharp curves that the short shorts couldn't contain. The babysitter was back. "You want some herbal tea?" Candy asked.

Evan stared like she had asked him if he wanted a shot of Jack Daniels. The strawberry-blonde in the cutoffs and the ZZ Top T-shirt walked back to him. His eyes followed the swish of her tits like a hypnotist's pocket watch. He didn't see his father's wife anymore.

"Sweetheart, listen to me." Candy was a foot shorter than Evan, but the woman who wrapped her arms around his body felt like a giant, like the teenage girl who always took up for him. "I love you," she said.

"I've always loved you," Evan said.

"I know," she said. "We need to talk. I'll make dinner, then later we'll talk."

Evan watched Candy pour the water into her cup, fascinated by the transformation that had occurred.

When Mr. and Mrs. Stevens were leaving, they found the girls on the couch. Rebecca was lying across Deana's lap, her ass up like the middle of an inchworm. Deana saw them but did not stop her hand in time. It cracked against Rebecca's right cheek.

Mr. Stevens smiled and said, "You'll just hurt your hand. Her backside is as hard as her head."

Rebecca huffed. "Thanks, Dad."

Mrs. Stevens said, "He's right. Spanking never worked."

Deana was glad they saw it as fun and games. That was until Rebecca's mother poked her head back in the house and said, "Maybe if you pull her pants down, you might be able to teach her a lesson."

Once her mother closed the door, Rebecca twisted around and said, "Nah, that never worked either, but I don't mind if you try." She shoved her ass up again.

Deana lowered the stretchy pants in bite-size increments until the tumbler's butt was fully exposed, then she grabbed the excessive mound of pussy that was bulging between Rebecca's thighs. "I got a better idea," she said and pulled Rebecca's vibrator out from between the cushions. "Me and Henry are gonna fuck you up now!"

Evan was in a Gloria/Candy sandwich on the couch. He had waited impatiently through a spaghetti and meatballs dinner to hear what his mother had to say. He sensed there was more to "I made a mistake, a huge mistake" than the racing thing. His growing curiosity was becoming a painful need to know, but it wasn't the right time to ask, so he did his best to enjoy the moment.

It had been so long since they had watched TV together. They used to do it all the time. Evan could remember being curled up next to Candy, snuggling. Then, little by little, his father had built that box, her prison, and it shut Evan out. Now, sitting with Candy, having her leaning against him, he felt all the tiny increments of painful loss as one. He wanted to hug her, squeeze her, and tell Candy how much he had missed her, but it wasn't the right time for that, either. Candy had to speak first.

Once Gloria had fallen asleep, Candy started talking about her childhood and his and their lives together in the early days, the good ole days when she was just their babysitter. She opened up to Evan and unpeeled layers of mystery. She had never spoken so freely about his mother, Sandra, and it became obvious how much Candy had looked up to Sandra and how much she loved her and missed her.

"My mother wasn't there for me, especially after my father died. She was a drunk," Candy said.

Evan's respect and awe for Candy were magnified, and he started falling in love with her anew. He could have spent the night on the couch listening to her, looking at her, and asking questions, but Candy told him it was getting late and they could talk more another time. Evan was disappointed. He still didn't understand why she thought it was her fault.

"Your mother gave me a camera for my birthday, and I used it to take tons of pictures. I'll get you those pictures and all the other pictures I had. Then I'll answer any more of your questions." She squeezed his leg and kissed his cheek. "My sister has them. She said she would find them. I'll get them from her."

Evan said, "You don't talk to your sister, do you?"

"I didn't, but I saw her. She moved back here from California, and I saw her." Candy's eyes glistened.

"You missed her," he said.

"Yes, honey, yes I did." A tear escaped from each eye and trickled down Candy's cheeks.

Evan got up, took Candy's hand, and pulled her to her feet. "Thank you for talking. I love you."

"Love you, too, and I'm sorry I waited so long."

"I know, Dad-Whatever." He looked at his sister sprawled on the couch. "I'll get her."

Evan picked Gloria up. Her limp body was hot against his. He hoisted her and crossed his arms under her rump. Her head rested on his shoulder, and her legs dangled in front of his. She grunted and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Good night," Candy whispered and kissed Gloria's forehead. "Good night, Evan. I love you."

Evan faced his mother, and Gloria was between them. He leaned in and touched his lips to hers, looking into Candy's eyes. "Good night," he whispered and slowly moved back, his intense stare unwavering. It was right there in his mother's eyes, written on her face, and it flowed into him with absolute clarity. There was no doubt in Evan's mind that it was the truth. If they ever kissed again, they wouldn't be able to stop. He wasn't afraid of his father anymore, and making love to that man's wife didn't bother him, but Evan was scared. He wasn't afraid of sex with her; he wanted his Candy as much as he had ever wanted her. The fear stemmed from something he knew, but it was a knowing that hadn't yet come to its fullness.

Without another word, Evan and Candy went in opposite directions. Candy went through the kitchen, and Evan went toward Gloria's bedroom. When he reached her door, he paused, then continued down the hallway, up the stairs, and into his room. He tucked Gloria into his bed. Fuck you, Dad.

Rebecca needed to turn on the ceiling fan and turn off the overhead light, but she wasn't ready to cast Deana's naked body into darkness. After two hours of illicit sex, Deana had fallen asleep in the middle of a conversation. Now, the Italian goddess was smiling contently in a REM state. Rebecca wanted to touch her twitching lips and read Deana's thoughts.

The first time she noticed Deana's lips or wondered what the small lumps on her chest felt like, being bisexual, gay, lesbian, or whatever weren't things Rebecca thought about. Maybe she didn't even know about them back then. By the time Deana kissed her on the front lawn, Rebecca was sure she was bisexual, and she wanted Evan and Deana. Sure, part of it was the taboo of a threesome with twins, but she had feelings for Evan, always had. What happened?

Rebecca hadn't anticipated or been prepared for this. They had loved each other since they were little girls, and she had wanted to kiss Deana for years, but now she was in love with her. Not strong feelings or a crush. It was a feeling so powerful it could make Rebecca smile when she was sad, laugh when she was mad, or cry after climaxing. Being away from Deana for a day was uncomfortable. After two days, it hurt. Would she be able to share her lover with Evan now?

Before Deana fell asleep, she told Rebecca it was time; she was going to let her brother take her virginity. For some reason, it had become more urgent, and Deana wanted it to happen before her father came back. Rebecca thought something was amiss in Deana's world, but it might have been jealousy clouding her judgment. If she hadn't loved Deana so completely, Rebecca would have tried to talk her out of it. Then again, fucking Evan was still something she wanted to do while Deana watched.

Deana's body jerked, and she murmured. Rebecca wished she could climb inside Deana's dream and see if it was her or Evan who was making Deana smile contently. Fuck the light, Rebecca thought and laid half of her body on Deana's, snuggling with her girlfriend. Deana's crotch warmed her thigh. "Baby, I didn't mean to fall in love with you, but I did."

When the teenager trapped in the twenty-seven-year-old woman's body reached the bedroom, she stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, seeing herself for the first time since donning the silly outfit. If Candy had taken a good look at herself before leaving the bedroom earlier, she wouldn't have had the courage to face Evan looking like a slutty schoolgirl, but she was glad she had.

Candy put a hand on her stomach, circled her belly button with the tip of a finger, and grabbed the lip of skin at the bottom, imagining a gold shaft with a diamond head. Her husband would go ballistic if he found her sporting a belly button ring when he returned from China. Candy smiled and thought about all that could change while he was away. The potential was intoxicating, but in a traumatizing way, like losing your cherry; you can never undo it.

She pinched a nipple so hard it made Candy's devilish smirk turn into a grimace. When she released it, it throbbed and swelled. A ridge formed across the shirt from one swollen bud to the other. Candy thought about how her stepson's eyes constantly darted to her chest and how Evan stared at her ass when she walked away from him. Miss Tonya was right. Candy still had it. Why didn't it work on John anymore?

Evan hadn't stopped paying attention for one second, and he had hung on her every word. She leaned against him on the couch the way Evan used to huddle up against her when they watched TV. Back then, when Candy imagined the future, it looked like it had been tonight. Evan and her together, in love, making love, and making a baby. Her stepson had awoken all those old hopes and dreams along with the passions and desires she had been denying and stuffing.

Candy's mind tingled with excitement. She felt like a kid sneaking around behind her parent's backs, hiding some secret or doing a naughty thing. If she continued down the path she was on, there would be so much naughtiness to hide. There would be a mind-blowing passion and lovemaking that would rock her world like never before. Candy could go back in time and fall in love like a teenager, and they could make a baby.

The problem was that Candy couldn't throw caution to the wind and get swept up in a sandstorm of youthful love and lust. Sure, it would be exciting, supercharged with fear, but she understood the potential for serious harm. There was a life-threatening danger involved. Would Candy take that chance?

Deana's dream was incredibly lifelike, but it lacked the fears that accompany real life. So what if she was naked in the middle of a plush, green carpet of grass? Who cared if the warm oil that flowed over her sensitive flesh spilled on the satin blanket? Evan was massaging her. Somehow, his hands were touching her everywhere at the same time. He was saying, "I love you, I love you, I love you." It was heaven.

Her brother was naked, and his giant erection pointed at the sky. Deana knew he was going to take her virginity, but it didn't matter that the birth control might not be working yet, or if it hurt, or if their mother ran to them screaming, "Stop, stop . . ." The only thing Deana cared about was that Evan would be the one.

His cock head smeared the warm, slippery fluid up and down her pulsing folds of pink flesh, taunting her unprepared hole. She smiled at Rebecca when she realized her best friend and lover was looking over Evan's shoulder. Rebecca's knowing expression reminded Deana that she had revealed her secret. They both knew that once her brother pushed his cock inside her body, her greatest fear would lose its power.

The knob of her brother's dick was on the brink of crushing the last wave of resistance, and a blackbird screeched. Deana's breathing stopped, and her eyes popped open. It wasn't a bird. It was that internal alarm system telling Deana she had waited too long. This was it, the time her father would finally do the unthinkable.

It wasn't the floorboard, or her door, or her father. Deana's heart started beating again. She shielded her eyes against the ceiling light and squinted. Mrs. Stevens was standing there. Deana remembered where she was but couldn't form a coherent thought, so she didn't speak. Rebecca's mother pointed at the light switch, and Deana nodded. Darkness flickered like a black screen being waved in front of her face, but before Mrs. Stevens finished closing the door, Deana's eyes used the light coming from behind the woman to snap a blurry picture of her surroundings. No wonder Rebecca's mother had that look on her face.

Deana decided not to tell Rebecca until morning, so she gently covered their naked, intertwined bodies with the sheet. She wasn't nearly as embarrassed as the last time their affair had been discovered.

Chapter 21 - Envy or Jealousy. What's the difference?

Envy occurs when we lack a desired attribute enjoyed by another.

Jealousy occurs when something we already possess (usually a special relationship) is threatened by a third person, and so envy is a two-person situation, whereas jealousy is a three-person situation. Envy is a reaction to lacking something. Jealousy is a reaction to the threat of losing something (usually someone).

Unlike the previous day when Deana woke up next to Gloria, today, she knew whose body was touching hers. She lifted her head and opened her eyes to a room warm and bright with the morning sunlight. The sheet and blanket had been thrown off the bed during the night. One of her legs was straight, and the other was over Rebecca's hip and groin, angling down between Rebecca's legs. One of Rebecca's legs was bent ninety degrees at the hip and knee; her thigh was stuffed in Deana's crotch. She smiled, thinking about the night of lovemaking, dropped her head back into the pillow, and stared at the ceiling. Some of it was lovemaking; the rest was wild sex, or, as Rebecca put it, "Fucking your brains out." That must have happened to her brain because Deana couldn't remember how many best orgasms of her life she had or when she fell asleep. Now, she was exhausted and planned to close her eyes for a few more hours, but before that happened, Deana remembered something. It hadn't been a dream. She needed to wake Rebecca and prepare her before she saw her mother.

The tumbler's flat stomach, small breasts, and cone-shaped areolas made Deana's heart thump. How long had they been in love? For years, they had walked the edge, terrorized by their confused feelings and how their bodies reacted when they got close to each other. They played games, wrestled, teased, and tested the limits. They kissed under the pretense of practice so they'd be prepared for a boyfriend. When Deana was eleven, Rebecca would pin her to the floor, demanding she cry uncle. Deana always refused for as long as possible. The press of Rebecca's body on her groin would make her tremble. The sensation was as close to an orgasm as it could get. One time, Deana had wrapped her legs around Rebecca's back and humped her crotch upward, acting like she was trying to free herself. That night, she cried and blamed her confused sexual desires on her father.

It doesn't matter, Deana thought. It was still terrifying, but their love was undeniable. She ran her fingernail from Rebecca's belly button to her throat. Brown, pea-sized buds mounted atop each reddish-brown cone. Twisting or sucking one would rouse her friend, but Deana thought Rebecca deserved a more intimate and loving wake-up call, so she put her face close to Rebecca's. The faint shadow of freckles below her eyes made Deana teary. "You're so fuckin' cute. I love you," she whispered and touched her nose to Rebecca's, then slid it up and down. She kissed each eyebrow, and Rebecca's eyes fluttered. "Mm."

"Sorry," Deana said, "I couldn't resist."

"Don't be. I thought I died and was waking up in heaven."

Deana thought it unlikely but said, "Good." A lifetime of dogma would be hard to overcome. She placed her lips on the tumbler's little button-nose and looked into her eyes. Her emotions were too strong to express with words, so she kept her mouth shut and kissed Rebecca's cheeks, chin, and lips. Then she kissed Rebecca's ear and let a wisp of breath escape.

"Ah, Dee, if you're trying to make me love you more than humanly possible, too late for that."

"I don't know what I'm doing, but I don't ever want to stop. I love you so much it hurts, it fuckin' hurts."

A salty droplet fell on Rebecca's cheek. She dabbed it and touched it to Rebecca's plump lip. Rebecca said, "Taste like a happy tear."

"I don't think happy is a good enough word to express what is happening inside me right now. Forgive me if I explode and splatter all over your room."

"I wouldn't forgive you because I'd have to live without you."

"Are you as scared as I am?" Deana asked.

"Probably, but we'll figure it out. Now, kiss me already?"

Deana got on top of Rebecca, between her legs, then held her arms down. "First, say uncle."

Rebecca's naked inner thighs flew up and clamped around Deana's butt. "If that's the way you want it." The tumbler easily freed her arms, bucked upward, and flipped their bodies over, then she held Deana down and forced herself between her legs.

"Mm, now that feels right," she said and brought her feet up to Rebecca's hips. Her clit ground across the stiffness of Rebecca's pubic bone, then her crotch settled under the warm mound of flesh. She rotated her legs, crossed her ankles behind Rebecca's back, and locked herself to her lover. Rebecca's strip of curly hair teased her pussy lips. The submitted position didn't terrify her anymore, and she wasn't going to make any pretense of resistance.

The recurring dreams all ended the same, and they all jolted Evan out of his sleep. It was frustrating, but he'd quickly dive back into the dream, hoping for a different outcome. In the last dream, he had been holding the younger version of the woman who became his mother. Her hair was damp, and the smell of her shampoo was pungent. She had his cock in her hand, and he expected her to guide him into the most beautiful pussy his brain could create. They confessed they had always loved each other and wanted each other, but his father had kept them apart. Their time had finally come. The deep groove of her labia encased his cock head. One thrust and-Damn it, he woke up again.

The sunlight was shining through the window. Evan sighed, closed his eyes, and turned on his side, putting the morning light at his back. He inhaled, imagining the smell of Candy's wet hair. The fragrance was strong, too strong to be in his mind. Could his mother be standing by his bed after taking a shower?

Rebecca broke up the make-out session and said, "Before we get too far into what I hope we're gonna do, I gotta pee."

"Wait. I have to tell you something first."

"How much you love me?"

"I could do that, but something else, too. Remember how you said it was cool that my mom caught us and didn't freak?"

"Ah, yeah."

"Well, last night, your mother opened the door, and we were sorta naked and not under the covers. Maybe even in a position that suggested we had been doing something."

"Oh," Rebecca said without much concern.

"I mean, we were obviously touching inappropriately. Don't you think-"

That was a preview of Potential - Book Three. To read the rest purchase the book.

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