Transformations: Nice Guys Club
Copyright© 2004 by Shrink42
Sex Story: Chapter 1 - No one plans on being a hero. Few purposely set out to do anything special. Sometimes, just acting on what you believe sets you apart. Sometimes, taking friendship a step farther makes you stand out. Fortunately, the cynical order of finish for nice guys is not a universal axiom.
Two months ago, Eric Kasten and his mother were just barely existing in a home terrorized by his angry, drunken father. The physical abuse had been steadily increasing to the point where Eric had several times stepped in to spare his diminutive mother blows. Not that he was much better able to stand the blows. At 15, he was only 5'7" and skinny, with no particular athletic talent.
Eric just could not stand to see his mother hit, and was willing to absorb the punishment himself. There wasn't much he could do about what went on in their bedroom, but he made a point to be near her elsewhere when his father was in a foul mood.
Sandra Kasten, now going by Sandie, was an educated professional with a management job. Abuse was totally unaware of social or economic status, and intelligence and education did not make it easier for a woman to abandon a marriage, even a badly soured one. She and Eric had talked about fleeing, but she was the larger breadwinner, and considered the house more hers than his.
Eric loved his mother dearly, though it was not obvious to an observer and he did not express it openly. He had learned to stifle his emotions, a trait that had helped diffuse several potentially dangerous confrontations with his father. Though naturally sensitive and expressive, he had of necessity adapted a stoic personna that threatened to become the real Eric.
Then one night, things got out of hand and Eric struck his father in his mother's defense, hastening the man into the unconscious state the booze had him destined for. That was the last straw, and they packed and left, ending up at the home of Dex Madison.
Dex was hosting several abused women from the shelter which was overflowing at Christmas. The two plus weeks at Dex's turned Eric's life around, very much for the better. There, he unleashed his sensitive side and provided critical support for his distraught mother. Then, he shared the hot tub naked with Kirstin, one of the abused women, indulging in sexual play for the first time. Next, he joined Dex as naked breakfast servers in an attempt to ease the fear of male genitals that most of the women carried. Later, he lost his virginity to his mother, then began the wonderful relationship with Morgan that was still going on.
As he walked the school hallway on his way from lunch to his next class, Eric thought of Morgan, and the date they had for that very night. At twenty-one, Morgan was way out of his league, but circumstances had thrown them together at Dex's and they each met a need in the other. They both knew long-term plans were unrealistic, but living in the here and now was terrific.
At Dex's, Morgan had dropped her faux lesbian image and had a torrid introduction to sex with Dex until yielding to Elise, now Mrs. Madison. Morgan had taken the leadership role in trying to help the women recover, and had been thoroughly impressed by Eric's concern for the women and his treatment of them. Having her libido unleashed, Morgan needed someone, and Eric was happy to fill the bill. She complimented him on being like a young Dex, and despite his frail build, the comparison held true surprisingly well in bed.
Eric's first intercourse was with his mother, at Dex's, at a time when Sandie's self-image threatened to disappear. Shortly afterward, Sandie met Harv, a principal in the firm providing security and transportation for Dex's big holiday bash. It was love at first sight, but Sandie had to be discreet because of divorce proceedings. Her only chances to be with Harv had been at group events at Dex's house. Back at home, her recent discovery of good sex made it impossible to stay out of Eric's bed, even though she wanted to be faithful to Harv.
Morgan had asked Sandie's permission before bedding her son, and having Eric and Morgan sleeping together in her home helped Sandie rationalize her own incestuous behavior. The three of them talked openly about the situation, and all understood that mother and son were fast approaching their last coupling.
Eric's musings were interrupted by a disturbance in the lightly-traveled hallway ahead. Eight or ten students gawked as a black guy in gang colors and heavy tatoos slapped a slim, attractive black girl, sending her reeling against the lockers. Two other black boys, obviously backup, stood close behind the first. They watched with seeming unconcern, but their presence seemed to guarantee that no passerby interfered.
As he came closer, Eric recognized the girl as a near-dropout, generally regarded as a street pro forced to attend school. Like the other onlookers, he had no desire to get mixed up in the situation. As he reached the group, fully intending to walk on past, he noticed blood trickling down the girl's face from a cut eyelid. Just then the boy hit her a solid blow to the stomach, doubling her over. She struggled to keep from falling, somehow succeeding amid a torrent of verbal abuse from the boy.
The experiences with his father and the stories he heard at Dex's were still at the front of Eric's mind. The greatest satisfaction in his young life, beyond even the great sex he was enjoying, was the feeling of helping his mother and the other abused women. Protection of women had become central to his manhood. It had caused him to grow up in the space of the Christmas holiday, and it had become his driving force.
Without conscious thought or planning, Eric stepped between the girl and her attacker. Moving quickly and instinctively, he pulled her upright and dragged her sideways, away from the startled youth. Fortunately, she was not heavy, and she was in no condition to offer any resistance to his efforts.
"Hey, man! Wachoo think yo' doin? Dis 'tween meen da bitch! She owe me! Get away fo' ah cap yo fo' messin wif her." Incongruously, Eric remembered thinking that no one really talked that way - it must be for show.
During the bad times with his father, when he knew he would be beaten, Eric had perfected a way of withdrawing into himself, ignoring danger or pain while still doing what was needed to protect his mother. Retreating to that same place, he now used every ounce of strength he had to propel the girl back down the hall toward the cafeteria, crowds, and, hopefully, safety.
He knew the boy was yelling at him, but he shut it out. He felt a hard, painful blow to his kidney, but he managed to stay upright and shut out the pain, too. Still aware enough to protect himself somewhat, he raised his arm to deflect another blow that hit the side of his face, opening a cut to match the girl's.
It had probably been less than fifteen seconds since he stepped in, and they had not moved far down the hall, given the girl's doubled-over condition. Fortunately, two teachers, a man and a woman, saw the commotion and came running toward them. Despite his anger, the attacker decided the fight was no longer worth it, and he and his backup retreated back the other way, attempting to look completely casual and triumphant.
The female teacher saw who the girl was, and an unmistakable look of disdain crossed her face. To her credit, however, she did move in to support the girl, realizing she was hurt. Besides representing safety, encountering the teachers reminded Eric that he could get in trouble for his good deed.
Memorial High was operating under the typical mindless zero tolerance policy that infected much of the public school system. Government education having largely failed in its attempts at any kind of individual handling of students, the focus was on equality and uniformity of treatment. Violence in school was undeniably a very bad thing, and efforts to eradicate it were sincere. The failure in logic occurred in not recognizing that violence would happen no matter what, and it arose from a myriad of causes.
The most extreme of the accused-rights advocates would never admit it openly, but their position is this: it is the victim's duty to be robbed, hurt, or killed and let the law take care of the accused afterward. They view self-defense or defense of loved ones or property as an unacceptable infringement on the rights of the accused - taking the law into ones own hands - appointing oneself judge, jury, and executioner - vigilantyeeism. Obviously, nothing could be worse than that.
As nearly any reader can conclude from the news, the zero tolerance policy seems to end up punishing students for ludicrous technical violations more often than it does for serious offenses. A bureaucracy tends to focus on the easiest problems first, often never getting to the important ones. Students, including Eric, understood this very well.
Eric believed himself to be fairly anonymous, and had the sudden urge to disappear. "She needs the nurse," he told the teachers, and kept on walking. There were restrooms on the other side of the cafeteria. Blood was starting to trickle down his neck and he felt some nausea building, both from the adrenalin backwash and the kidney punch. He made it to the restroom before the blood reached his shirt, and he managed to stifle the urge to hurl his lunch.
The bleeding staunched easily with cold water. Cursing the useless air dryers, he grabbed some toilet paper and spent a few minutes making sure the bleeding had stopped. He had been quite early for his next class, but had lost that cushion and had to hurry. Tardiness was treated almost as harshly as fighting at Memorial.
Eric's hopes of his intervention going unnoticed lasted only halfway through his class. Someone apparently recognized him, and the rumor mill at Memorial was generally recognized as the fastest communication system known to man. The summons to Mrs. Grunewald's office came as a disappointment but no real surprise.
Walking into the office, Eric noticed a sympathetic look from the middle-aged black woman who had been the secretary through several principals. In the principal's office, he encountered no such sympathy.
"Mr. Kasten, you are aware of the policy against fighting, are you not?"
"But you chose to involve yourself in a fight, anyway?"
"No, Ma'am. I did not get in a fight. I helped an injured girl get away. That's all."
"Then how did you get that cut."
"The boy attacking her hit me as I helped her away."
"So you WERE in a fight, then."
"No, Ma'am. I did nothing but help the girl. I did not even speak to him."
"The policy is clear. You were involved in a physical confrontation and must be suspended. I hope you will learn to obey the rules from now on."
Disrespect was not part of Eric's nature, but with his growing self-confidence, he could not completely stifle his outrage. "Mrs. Grunewald, if that had been your daughter being beaten, should I have walked away as your rule requires."
The principal's face darkened and she almost shouted her response. "How dare you! The rule is clear. Besides, that girl is a known trouble-maker with a terrible reputation."
"So if she was a white honor student I wouldn't be suspended?"
At that, Mrs. Grunewald almost choked. She wholeheartedly espoused the liberalism that was essential to advancement in the education system. She had slipped up, and this impudent student had caught her. "Mr. Kasten, I should increase your suspension for your attitude."
"Attitude? Look, I saw a girl getting badly beaten. I didn't stop to worry about the fighting rule. I didn't check to see if she was the Prom Queen or the school slut. I couldn't live with seeing her beaten. If you can, then I pity you!" As he left the office, he noticed the door was not completely closed. The secretary was staring at him with open mouth and moist eyes.
Mrs. Grunewald hurried out after him. "Mr. Kasten, stop right there! You're to wait for security to escort you out."
"Security should be too busy arresting the guys who beat that girl. I know my way out." As he walked through the outside door, he saw the on-duty officer assigned to the school hurrying toward the exit with his walky-talky to his ear. He didn't stop walking until he reached the convenience store two blocks away.
Eric took the school bus to school, and it was a good seven miles to his house. He was unfamiliar with the city bus system, and he was becoming stiff from the kidney blow. He had Dex's number and called it, not wanting to upset his mother. Morgan answered and he told her a summary of what had happened. She insisted he stay right there and she would pick him up.
In less than ten minutes, Harv pulled up instead, their office being close to the school. As they drove toward Dex's, Harv got the whole story, carefully covering every detail. At the house, Morgan dragged him right to the hot tub, and he got to tell the story again to her and Dex, who joined them.
The soak felt good on his tender back, and Morgan was very attentive. Dex left after he heard the story, then returned a little later to tell them that Marty was there. Eric looked puzzled, then realized that his instinctive action had now escalated into a legal battle.
"Hey, there's no need to get a lawyer involved. I'll just do my suspension and be done with it."
"No, Eric, we can't let it go at that," Dex told him. "You saw an injustice and stopped it. An injustice was then done to you, and we're going to stop it. I was in a similar situation fifteen years ago. Believe me, Marty will take care of it."
Things had gone far beyond what Eric was comfortable with, but his respect for Dex was such that he went along. Marty's interview was brief but thorough, and as she left, she told him she would take him to school in the morning.
By the time the commotion died down, Eric was feeling pretty wrung out, and movement was rather painful because of his back. On top of that, the area of the cut high on his cheek was developing into a lurid bruise.
Morgan had stayed right by Eric since he had arrived. By agreement, they tried to be circumspect with each other when there were other people around. It was not that they were ashamed of their sexual relationship, just that neither wanted to come across as a star-struck lover. She was finding it hard to stick to her resolve at that point.
Eric's actions had shown so much of the character Morgan had seen developing in him, she thought she would burst with pride. And pride wasn't her only reaction. She barely restrained herself from attacking him in the hot tub, and she vowed he would get very, very lucky that night. She just hoped the bruises would not slow him down too much.
Actually, Morgan had left Eric for a while as he talked to Marty. She had called Sandie and arranged for her to come for dinner and spend the night. She told her what had happened to Eric and assured her he was all right. Harv was contacted and was more than willing to pick Sandie up, take her home to pick up necessaries, and spend the night with her at Dex's.
Morgan simply told Eric that their scheduled date had been rearranged, and told him the plan. Since he almost viewed Dex's as his home, he made no objection at all. A couple other times, he had slept with Morgan while his mother slept with Harv in the same house. It was a credit to mother and son that they talked freely about their own sexual relationship and its impact on their other interests.
Sitting down to eat in Dex's kitchen always brought back memories. When he met his mother's eyes across the table once, he could read the grin she gave him. She was thinking of the mornings he and Dex had served breakfast naked to the women from the shelter, of which she was one. Morgan probably knew why he blushed spontaneously at the thought, and his mother certainly did.
Morgan seemed to know everything about him, like she was in his mind. He didn't know if he was just transparent, or if she was that perceptive, not that her really cared. He still had to pinch himself every time he thought about Morgan, it all seemed so unreal. Here he was, a scrawny, nondescript Sophomore who had hardly spoken to most of the girls in his classes before Christmas. Yet, this babe who was so sexy he got hard just at the passing thought of her couldn't seem to get enough of him.
Morgan had assured him over and over, and he believed her, that it was not just because he was available and she was horny. Her little shows of affection when they were nowhere near bed told him she valued him as a person. Never considering himself anything special, he was still trying to grasp her feelings for him.
Eric felt some of the same amazement over his mother's feelings for him. She had always been proper - circumspect was the perfect word. Yet, just days after they had fled, she initiated sex with him, dismissing anything but her need and their shared joy. It had been years since she had to be motherly to him, and maybe that was part of why it happened. Yet, during those same years, he had not been at all demonstrative about his feelings for her.
It could not be just the removal of the specter of his father's abuse, either. She had quickly found Harv, and they were now lovers when they could manage it discreetly. Still, she came to Eric many nights when they were alone together, and he was fairly sure Harv knew about it. The sex was incredibly intimate. He always had the feeling that every part of their bodies and minds were connecting as he entered her. The first few times, he could almost feel her drawing strength from him. Later, the strength flowed both ways.
Sex with Morgan was different than with his mother in many ways. The best way he could describe it was with his mother, there was depth and intimacy. With Morgan, there was energy and sheer joy.
Sandie's trim body was wonderful, but Morgan's was unbelievable. Dressed, Morgan was attractive, but naked she was delicious - that was the best description he could come up with. Her proportions fit neither the centerfold nor runway model templates, but the overall image screamed SEXY. The color and texture of her skin and the luxurious cushioning layer beneath it cried out for touching. He caressed her somewhere almost constantly when they were together, stopping only when it was inappropriate because of other people present. She fed on it.
Typically Morgan, she sensed his reverie and apparently the subject. She was sitting next to him, and she slid her hand right to his crotch. Taking a moment to locate the bulge of his glans, she fingered it gently until she felt him begin to squirm.
Conversation was spirited as always when that group assembled, and they all made a point of including the two sheltered women who were staying there at the time. About nine o'clock, Morgan whispered to Eric "You've had a hard day and you've got school tomorrow. What I've got planned for you is going to take a loooooong time. So if want any sleep at all, we'd better get started."
Not that he cared to argue with Morgan anyway, but her plan sounded perfect, and he rose, offered her his hand and towed her toward the hot tub. The best times at Dex's always seemed to start in the hot tub.
No surprise at all to Eric, Morgan insisted on streaking to her room, and the mild exhibitionist episode obviously stimulated her. In her room, Eric saw the large towel spread out on the bed, and automatically knelt beside it, assuming he was going to give her a massage. Running his hands over her delightful flesh was always a pleasure. But she had a different plan.
"Huh uh! You're the wounded warrior. Tonight I do all the work. Lie down on your stomach."
The experience was a first for Eric, and it took him about ten seconds to decide it made taking the punch almost worth while. As he luxuriate under her strokes, he understood why she always ended up at a fever pitch of arousal after a massage. And she was only doing his back, so far.
Well, his back and neighboring areas. After doing his back and buttocks, carefully avoiding the kidney area, she started at his feet and worked up. Reaching the top of his thighs, she moved his legs a little farther apart and with a single finger, stroked the area right behind his scrotum firmly. His cock sprang up so quickly and so hard it fairly raised him off the bed.
Morgan having planned it all out beforehand, Eric was writhing with the pleasure of her massaging finger when he felt another, very slippery finger working into his rectum. That was beyond any of the light finger rimming they had indulged in before and took him by surprise. It was alarming but undeniably stimulating and just the way she was going about it made objections seem pointless.
Her finger was all the way in very quickly, and she dropped the other hand under his sac, holding it firmly. Suddenly, he felt a different pressure that felt like it was right behind his testicles. Before he could even try to figure out what was happening, he was coming.
After an endless succession of pulses, he was able to gasp out "What the Hell?"
"Prostate massage," she whispered between licks on his ear. "Boy, is that a feeling of power!" and she giggled. "Don't worry. There's plenty of towels." She sat and caressed his back lightly for a while, then had him turn over. Fetching a wet rag from the bathroom, she cleaned him up, then had him lay on a dry towel.
"Wish you had a trigger like that," he said as he looked at her beaming face.
"Well, I sorta do," she replied.
"You mean there's something you haven't showed me yet?"
"Oh, you've found my G-spot before."
"Oh, right. Hey, my tongue needs a workout. Any ideas?" It had taken him only a couple of sessions to learn how much a little teasing and playfulness added to her arousal. That was one big difference between her and his mother. Sandie was all serious intensity when they made love. He knew instinctively that levity would break the mood for her.
Morgan flipped around into the sixty-nine position with the agility of a gymnast, and he grabbed her hips to pull her pussy right up to his mouth. He was so absorbed as he began his assault that he hardly noticed she was only caressing him gently. If her G-spot was in any way analogous to his prostate as far as stimulation, he was determined to 'do unto others.' It took some contortions, but he soon had a finger searching the front of her channel while he kept his lips and tongue busy on her clit.
It was not certain that he found the spot, but it was certain that he got her to climax. With Morgan, there was never any doubt. With her, he always got the impression of energy with legs. When she climaxed, the energy release was massive. During recovery, she laid her face right beside his cock. He, in turn, stroked her opulent ass cheeks, one of his favorite pastimes.
While she still had energy, Morgan was always loathe to savor the afterglow for too long. Soon, she got up and knelt beside him and reached for a condom packet on the nightstand. Saying "Ta daaa!" she threw the packet back over her shoulder with a flourish. "That was my treat for you tonight. Good reward for my warrior, huh?" With that, she straddled him and worked her way down onto him.
Cowgirl was a position Morgan loved, and they used it frequently. Tonight, though, Eric had a desire for more closeness. Reaching up to hold her by the shoulders, he pulled her down onto his chest. He brought his knees up between her legs and started a rhythmic thrusting by pushing down with his feet to raise his ass off the bed. With her legs spread, the friction was decreased somewhat, promising more staying power from him. With each thrust he made, there was a small amount of pain from his bruised back. He had the feeling he could keep going for quite a while.
Always eager to participate, Morgan was not content to let him do the work, and soon, she was slamming herself backward against him each time he pushed. This was another characteristic of their love-making. The first coupling was always hard and fast, sometimes almost frantic. Though he tended more to gentleness by his nature, Eric knew that was what she wanted and needed. It certainly was not unpleasant to him.
They pounded at each other for several minutes, Eric hoping he could bring her off first. Even with the pain and her spread legs, the stimulation still built too fast, and he exploded before she got there. It was their first time without a condom, and that undoubtedly sped his ejaculation. Much to Morgan's delight, Eric was often able to stay hard, even after his second come. In that state, he was able to stroke for a very long time, sometimes driving her to multiple orgasms.
When Eric stopped shuddering, she could soon tell that he was not shrinking and squealed out "Goody!." Forgetting about his sore back, she rolled them over, wrapped her legs around his thighs, and made it very clear what he was expected to do. Hard duty! For well over ten minutes he plowed into her, taking her over for one gigantic one and several minor ones.
When he could no longer support himself on his arms, he made to roll off to the side, but she did not want separation of any kind. She held him in place and told him to let his weight down. In weariness, he laid his head on her shoulder and she softly stroked his hair.
Boisterous and frenetic as Morgan always was at the start of love-making, she reached a point where she became the epitome of tenderness and intimacy. These were the times when they talked, touched, and generally enjoyed all of each other. After fifteen or twenty quiet minutes, Morgan insisted it was time to visit the hot tub again, naked en route, of course. Back in bed, he entered her from behind as they lay on their sides. They kept talking, punctuating with slow, easy strokes. When both sensed it was time for sleep, he accelerated the pace to one more mutual release.
It turned out not to be much of a battle at all. Marty got an injunction, which she personally delivered to Mrs. Grunewald the next morning as she accompanied Eric back to school. The principal was actually grateful for the injunction as it gave her an escape from a firestorm.
Race relations at Memorial were reasonably good. The black students, however, remained highly sensitive to any kind of perceived bias. Somehow, probably through the secretary, Eric's actions and his suspension had become a racial issue, and Mrs. Grunewald had become the 'bad guy.' To a vocal, committed liberal, this was the ultimate disaster, and her solid afternoon of angry phone calls had been a painful education for her.
Eric had been quite content with his status as a nobody, and would have been more than happy to return to it. Such was not to be, however. Fortunately, though the whole school seemed to know his name by the next day, relatively few knew him by sight. The whispers, glances, and congratulations from strangers were almost harder to take than the blows from the attacker. The cut on his face had developed a prominent purple frame around it, and this seemed to accentuate his heroism.
After lunch, he took his usual route to his next class and encountered the attacker and his buddies. Even as his adrenalin rose and he began his mental withdrawal, he mused on how unobservant he had been, as he probably passed them every day. To his surprise and great relief, all three of the boys snarled at him but walked right on by.
The day settled down, his few close friends basking in the increased attention Eric suffered through. By the last hour, he was optimistic that his fifteen minutes of fame had mercifully ended. As he stood at his locker, however, he was approached by a tall black boy with muscles on his muscles, and a white boy with almost as many muscles. Wondering if being a good Samaritan was worth it after all, he turned to face his visitors.
"How come you took up for that girl?" the black boy asked.
"I couldn't just stand there and watch her get hurt."
"Didn't you know her reputation?"
"I'd heard some stuff."
"But you did it anyway?"
"I didn't stop to think about that. Whatever she did, she didn't deserve that. Even if the rumors were true, she's somebody's daughter, maybe somebody's sister."
"Yeah, she's MY sister, CeCe, and unfortunately, some of the rumors are true. I'm Ben Patterson and this is Terry Torvold." Eric felt rather sheepish that he didn't recognize the All-State linebacker who was headed for Michigan on a full ride next year. Terry was a Freshman, and already touted as a future college prospect.
"Sorry I didn't recognize you guys. I usually see you in helmets."
"Hey, no problem," Ben assured him with a chuckle. "I think today you're better known than us. I want to thank you for helping my sister. That took some kind of guts. Those were some bad dudes, you know. Weren't you afraid of getting hurt?"
"I didn't really stop to think about any of that. Besides, I've had my share of beatings - they're no big deal."
"Oh? I'd like to hear about that. By the way, you don't have to worry about them coming after you. The word is out that you're strictly hands off."
"Geez, I never though about that problem. Guess I really stepped in something, huh?" He flashed back to the non-encounter after lunch and understood why nothing had happened.
"Well, I'm glad you did."
"Say, Eric," Terry spoke up for the first time, "come on over to my house for dinner tonight. Ben will be there, and it sounds like you have a story we'd like to hear." Still suffering from a feeling of unreality, Eric agreed and got directions.
Since Christmas time at Dex's, Eric had been exposed to lots of women. He still could not hide his awe when he met Terry's mother, Shannon, and his sister, Janie. After dinner, when Terry's two cousins, Caitlyn and Jordan Randolph, and his girlfriend Trish McNamara came over, his new-found confidence was strained to the limit.
Eric noticed that Ben treated Terry's Dad, Alex, almost with reverence. He later learned that Alex had personally supervised Ben's development from a lightning quick but rangy Freshman into the probable future NFLer he was. It was also obvious that Ben was a frequent and welcome visitor, as all of them shared easily in playful banter, even though Ben was the only Senior among them.
It was a little upsetting when the whole group asked to her Eric's story. Sensing his unease, Shannon told hers first, revealing details that should have made the others blush. Instead, each of them entered in and added things from their own perspective with no apparent bashfulness.
When it was finally his turn, he found himself telling more than he ever thought he would to strangers. All of them, especially the girls, asked questions that made him blush, but they were so open and non-judgemental, he talked on and on.
When he was finally done, there was an exchange of questioning looks and nods among the girls. Janie then walked up to him, hugged him, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Eric Kasten," she proclaimed in voice she tried to make officious sounding, "you are hereby officially inducted into the Nice Guys Club. You join charter members Terry Torvold and Ben Patterson You are now the third." The girls, including Shannon, all stood and clapped. His embarrassment only seemed to fuel their fun.
Eric noticed that Terry and Ben did nothing to ridicule or make light of the girls' little ceremony. Keying on that, he asked how the other two had made it into the club.
Janie spoke right up. "Terry is just the best brother and cousin we could imagine. There was some specific stuff I can't really talk about where he was just awesome. Then he chose brains over boobs and invited Trish to the dance when he first met her. She was the one who insisted on the club idea."
Ben's reason for admission was more involved, but very touching. Like too many black children, he and his two younger sisters were raised by a single mother. They went to church regularly, and she taught them manners and values. That the older of his sisters, Celia, or CeCe, had strayed was a great sadness to the family, but they never gave up hope for her to straighten out.
Ben believed he could trace the beginning of CeCe's downfall to her pre-teen years. She fell into puppy love with a boy who treated her like dirt. She seemed to think that was normal, and did whatever he asked. Her path from there on was all too familiar.
Desperately wanting to keep his youngest sister from the same fate, Ben began, with his mother's advice and approval, taking the ten-year-old on regular 'dates.' He treated her like a princess, all the time emphasizing to her that she should always expect that treatment from boys and never tolerate anything less.
The girl, rather than being reluctant to go out with her brother, began to regard her dates as the high point of her life. As she expressed her glee to her cousins, Ben's aunts talked him into taking them out on similar dates.
To make a long story short, Ben was soon going on 'dates' with fifth or sixth grade girls at least twice a week. There were more than a dozen girls in the group. He chose that age because they were young enough that no one would think of it a real romance. The girls' parents were always totally aware of everything that happened.
The dates involved things the girls liked. Movies were very popular. Carnivals, concerts, sports events, or just lunch and shopping at the mall were common choices. Almost always, he took just one girl, reasoning that he wanted them to learn about good dating, not gabbing with their friends.
The girls were plenty old enough to get ideas about affectionate activity with their hunky escort. Ben became adept at gently but firmly counseling them about how boys would respond to their actions. It was a fundamental principle of his dates that they be totally platonic.
Whether Ben's efforts were effective or not would not be known for several years. The girls' parents, however, were certain they saw changes in their daughters. His younger sister appeared to be avoiding the traps that CeCe had fallen into. That alone made it all worthwhile to Ben.
He took unbelievable amounts of crap from his buddies and his teammates, and more than a little abuse from adults who did not understand. Those things deterred him no more than the feeble efforts of the linemen who tried to block him every week on the football field.
Terry found out about Ben's dating education program as soon as he made the team, and of course told the girls. They could not wait to get him over to induct him as the second member of the club.
Eric arrived home after his induction to find his mother wearing just a light robe, which she had not bothered to close in the front. He was used to her very private exhibitionism, understanding that her self-confidence and self-image were still in the rebuilding process. She looked very sexy, and he made sure to tell her so, as he always did. He also showed her so with his natural, unavoidable erection.
Almost sheepishly, Eric told her about the dinner at Torvold's and the little ceremony. Far from being amused, her eyes got a little watery as she hugged him. She said it was nice to see that other people recognized it, too.
Then, Sandie stepped out of character. He was sitting on the sofa, and she knelt in front of him and unbuckled his pants. Telling him to raise up, she pulled his jeans and his underwear down, then giggled as she had to stop and remove his shoes to get everything off. Once he was bottomless, she straddled him and guided his cock into her passage.
This was a new level of friskiness and adventure for Sandie, and Eric thought it a very good sign. There was no doubt in his mind that their previous sex had been heavily weighted toward healing. That was not a bad thing, as he wanted to help her any way he could, and was in need of healing himself. This encounter was much more light-hearted - it had a feeling of celebration. If that meant the need for healing was diminished, that was a very good thing.
The tight, smooth warmth of his mother's sheath around him was not conducive to cerebral activity. The sight and feel of her taut body atop him cried out for contact instead, and he pulled her close and kissed her warmly. She continued to surprise him by starting to plunge up and down on him with almost Morgan-like vigor. He was thrilled, and returned her efforts eagerly. He came long before she had a chance to reach her peak, but was able to remain hard enough to stay within her. Having experienced his endurance before, she never broke her stride and was rewarded with her own completion several minutes later. She took him with her for his second.
When both of them had settled down, Sandie seemed almost apologetic about her forwardness. He hastened to assure her how much he loved it and how anxious he was to do it again. He slipped up a little there, because both of them had scrupulously avoided the subject of future sex between them. It was understood she would at some point, probably quite soon, declare herself monogamous with Harv. Thinking about it, Eric could not feel either sad or jealous, and not just because he had Morgan.
The night she was attacked in the hallway at school, CeCe Patterson had stayed away from home until very, very late. That was not at all unusual, but Ben had hoped the encounter might scare some sense into her. It was a heartache he and his mother had lived with since CeCe, now a Sophomore, was in grade school.
It was one night later, and Ben was just returning from Torvolds.' His mother knew about the Nice Guys Club ritual, and he told her about CeCe's rescuer being inducted. She asked about Eric and he told her the story, which left her shaking her head. Some of the things that had happened did not square with her religious beliefs, but she could not find it in her heart to criticize a young man who had risked so much for her wayward daughter.
Ben loved his mother deeply. He was not willing to accept her beliefs completely, but he respected her for holding them and respected her by living in a way that pleased her, including attending church faithfully. He loved football, but his driving force for playing was the NFL money he intended to share with her. Unlike too many sons, he was acutely aware of what it cost her to provide the opportunity for him. Ordinarily very principled, he was determined to make it into the NFL draft as early as possible. He did not want to risk his mother's retirement on a career-ending injury.
Knowing how much it hurt his mother, Ben could not help the anger at CeCe. He did love her, but she seemed to be going out of her way to kill that love. Salacious remarks about CeCe in the locker room were a thing of the past since Ben had conducted a few attitude adjustment interviews. Still, it was perfectly clear what all the guys thought. It hurt him badly, particularly because it made his mother seem like a bad parent.
After their customary hug and words of endearment, Ben went off to bed. He had fallen asleep facing away from the door when he felt a body against his back, felt moisture soaking through his shirt, and heard sobbing.
There had been zero physical contact between Ben and CeCe for years: no hugs, no pecks on the cheek, not even playful scuffling. Any attempt by Ben at even normal interaction was rebuffed with sarcasm and profanity. He knew instantly that it was CeCe hugging his back, but was confused about how to react. Despite his love for her, the desire to get even with some kind of rejection was very strong. But for all the time he had spent trying to educate his little 'dates, ' how could he do that to his own sister, slut or not.
Nervous about that level of intimacy with his own sister, Ben nevertheless worked his way onto his back and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. Now, it was the front of his shirt getting soaked, but he did not even notice in the import of the moment. Her crying went on for a long time, but she never said a word.
After ten of fifteen minutes, Ben saw their mother in the doorway watching them. He thought she should be horrified at seeing her son and daughter in bed like that, but some combination of wisdom and desperation kept her from entering or objecting. She soon closed the door and left, giving Ben a little reassuring wave as she did.
Without ever speaking, CeCe ran out of tears and fell asleep. To his disgust, he could not help thinking he understood why the guys were after her so hard. She felt absolutely wonderful lying there practically on top of him. As he chided himself for his thoughts while trying to figure out what was going on with her, he himself fell asleep.
In the morning, Ben was alone in his bed, and he only saw CeCe briefly. He risked being late for school to talk to his mother a few minutes. She knew it was the first time CeCe had come to him, and told him she knew nothing wrong would happen.
"What if she comes in again, Mom?"
With a big sigh, she replied "That's the first contact any of us have had for a long time. Whatever you do, don't reject her."
"But isn't it wrong for a brother and sister..."
"I can't believe God would be angry if letting her sleep in your arms somehow gets her back to us."
The next night, CeCe again came into Ben's room. He had not been able to fall asleep, and immediately pulled her to himself. This time, she spoke, and it nearly froze his blood. "Ben, I want to die. I'm just too chicken."
With an enormous effort of will, he remained motionless, said nothing, and just hugged her. The sobbing started again, and once again ended in sleep.
CeCe did the same disappearing act again in the morning. Ben debated briefly whether to tell his mother what his sister had said. Their relationship had always been based on trust, and she was trusting him in a very touchy situation. When he told her, she sagged back in her chair and murmured a brief prayer, then said "Ben, stay as close to her as you can. You're the only one with a chance, now."
It was very hard for Ben to concentrate at all during school. After second hour, he asked Terry if he could do a favor, and Terry agreed. Then, after third hour, he hurried to CeCe's usual route to lunch, that is, when she bothered to come to school.
Interaction between brother and sister at school had been even less than at home. In her first week, she had angrily told him to pretend she didn't exist, or else, and he had acquiesced. He had, however, made sure he knew everything about her schedule and her routes.
He was more nervous than asking for his first date when he caught her in the hall. When he asked her if she would eat lunch with him, she did not answer, but she did nod. Terry had arranged for Eric, Trish, and Trish's friend Lindsey to be waiting at a table for them. The girls had forsaken several other lunch mates at Terry's request. As they approached, CeCe hung back, but Ben got bold and put his hand on her back to propel her to a chair.
Terry and Trish knew Ben very well, and Eric was a new friend and fellow Club member. Lindsey did not know the others, but she and Trish were best buddies. She was perplexed, but if this is what her friend wanted... When she recognized the black girl, she was barely able to keep her expression friendly. Apparently, CeCe did not recognize Eric as the boy who had rescued her because she remained mute through all the introductions.
Ben and the others kept up light conversation while CeCe ate with her head down. But she was there! It was a victory of incredible proportions to Ben. During the meal, she glanced at Eric a few times with a strange look on her face. Suddenly, she dropped her fork and blurted out "Why?"
Eric had seen her glances and had an idea that recognition was dawning. He smiled at her briefly and replied "I've seen my mother beaten too much. I couldn't stand to see any more beatings." At her questioning look, he went on to tell a summary of his story.
When Eric stopped talking, CeCe seemed to have dropped some of her shyness and blurted out "I... I thought only Black men..."
"Nope," Eric told her, "that's one of the few things that is truly color-blind."
His answer looked like it pleased CeCe. She just stared at him with her face immobile, then "Th... thank you."
CeCe said no more, but did wait for the others before leaving.
CeCe came to him as soon as Ben was in bed that night, and actually started talking. "That guy,... how do you know him? He's not on the team."
"When I heard what he did, I found him to thank him. Terry invited both of us for dinner." When she didn't reply, he took chance. "Can I ask you something without you getting mad?"
"Um, I guess."
"Would you talk to someone if I set it up?"
"You mean, like a shrink? Where would you get the money?"
Her response could not have pleased him more. She was not rejecting the idea! Of course, maybe she thought she did not have to because the money made it impossible. "If you let me take you, I'll find it somewhere." That brought a return of the customary tears, but not nearly the volume from before.
At school the next day, Ben found Terry in the hall.
"Hey, Terry, that Psychiatrist you talked about - is she awfully expensive."
"I suppose. She's the best. Who... ? Ohhhh! You mean she agreed to go?"
"I think I sorta conned her. She never thought it could happen, so she agreed." With that they headed for their separate classes.
As Ben once again guided his sister to his friends' table for lunch, Terry whispered in his ear "She has an appointment for right after school."
"So soon?" Ben hissed back.
"Influence!" Terry grinned.
"But, I can't afford it, yet!" Ben objected.
"All taken care of."
CeCe responded to a few questions during lunch, but only briefly. Once again, she did stay in her seat, and to Ben, that was an incredible change. As they were leaving, he told her "I'll meet you right after school."
Ben was a stickler for the rules, but he had given in on one point. A local booster had a car, a rather old one, but serviceable. He made it available to Ben's mother, but it was fully insured for Ben to drive. Most days, he had it at school.
After school, CeCe was very hesitant, but did get in the car with Ben. Although never afraid he would hurt her, her personally imposed separation from him was hard to get over. It had been a long time since she let him do anything for her. Yes, she had slept in his arms for three nights, but that was like another world. This was her every day reality and it frightened her. Only after they were on the way did he tell her where they were going. She relaxed a bit when she heard the doctor was a woman, but Ben was sure she would have bolted from the car if she could.
He walked her carefully into the office, pleased that she did not resist, and they waited only three or four minutes before Julia came out to meet them. He stayed in the office for the whole appointment, which took nearly an hour and a half. Not being aware of the reality of Julia's practice, he did not puzzle over how CeCe got an appointment so quickly.
That night, CeCe spoke more at the supper table than she had in months. It was with a mixture of relief and regret that Ben said goodnight to her to spend the night alone. It turned out she never joined him again.
The three nights in her brother's arms along with the other changes must have been enough, because CeCe began working hard to change her life. It was no instant turnaround, and once again, her semester grades were barely passing. One important thing dwarfed everything else, though. She completely cut off ties with her former 'friends.' That caused more than a few threats, but with her brother and his cohorts on her side, not even the baddest risked any overt action.
Two weeks after CeCe first visit with Julia, one of the most memorable moments in Ben's life occurred. After the church service, several women, a few men, and a number Ben's current and former 'dates' approached him. He was with his mother and his younger sister (going to church was still a step too far for CeCe.) One girl handed him an envelope and said "For CeCe."
In the envelope was a wad of one and five dollars bills. The girl's mother told him there would be an envelope every week until CeCe was better. To those people, a few bucks a week was real money - living money. The total came to over half of Julia's hourly fee. Even the toughest linebacker in the state could not shrug off that kind of emotional assault.