Chapter 23: Who’s in Control?

When Evan woke up, he couldn’t remember where he was, but his body was sore. Jason’s, I’m at Jason’s, he thought. His bladder told him what to think next. He got up, stretched four different ways, and started toward the door. He saw Jason sleeping and stopped. Was that a dream?

It wasn’t a dream. On his way to the bathroom, Evan thought about the different expressions on Becky’s face. She had been performing for him, but Jason had tried to keep her quiet. Apparently, Jason didn’t want him to know about his incestuous relationship. Who would, other than a crazy, impulsive, nymphomaniac like Becky.

Evan took a long whiz. It was too early to be thinking so hard, but he had to, so he splashed cold water on his face. That wasn’t Jason and Becky’s first time, and Becky didn’t care if he knew that Jason fucked her. That meant she probably wouldn’t care if Jason knew that he fucked her, too. Jeez, no wonder Jason wanted him to fuck Deana or Gloria. Two wrongs make a right. Or did it just make your wrong feel right?

If they spoke openly about sister fucking, he might feel compelled to tell Jason about Candy. Mother fucking was worse, though, at least for him. Jason’s mother would freak out, for sure, but she couldn’t divorce her kids, and there was no chance she would kill either of them. He needed time to figure out how to handle this with Jason. It wasn’t the right time to talk incest. He didn’t need any advice or encouragement from someone without a conscience. Why not keep the whole thing a big secret? That’s what they had been doing anyway.

The early morning drive home from Sally’s house could have been compared to what a teenage girl would experience if she lied to her parents about whose house she spent the night at so she could be with a boy, except Candy had never done that. She had a secret boyfriend, but Bobby lived in the same trailer with her. All they had to do was not get caught fucking. At least my mother never caught Sally and me, Candy thought.

By the time Candy was fourteen, she was a full-time nanny with a baby in her belly. Before she turned fifteen, she was a mother. Sally was right; Candy never got to grow up. She hadn’t been able to enjoy her teenage years of impulsive, irresponsible behavior. No wonder it had been so easy for Candy to have an affair.

The eight years between Candy and Cindy were significant when Cindy was seven, and Candy was fifteen, but even then, Cindy was mature. Candy loved her step-niece and enjoyed her company. Subconsciously, Candy related to Cindy better than anyone else in her life, even though she was often left with charge over Cindy, Deana, Evan, and Gloria.

When Cindy turned fourteen, she was already beautiful, independent, and wily. She saw Candy as a friend, mentor, and confidant. Candy got to hear all the things Cindy’s parents didn’t know. Cindy looked to Candy for advice, while Candy lived vicariously through her niece.

Sometime after Cindy turned fifteen, there was a rift between John and his sister, Julia, and her husband, JC. It was some family shit that Candy wasn’t let in on. Cindy stopped coming to the house. The separation changed their relationship even though Cindy still called Candy.

Once Cindy had her driver’s license, she started showing up at Evan or Deana’s ballgames and at Evan’s go-kart races if John wasn’t there. Cindy had changed dramatically during those months of separation. She had become a no-nonsense, sixteen-year-old who didn’t relate or socialize with her peers. Her focus was kickboxing and racing, yet she still excelled in school. She was determined—driven—and ready to kick ass if anybody got in her way. The girl was gorgeous, strong, and scary at times.

Cindy and Candy began to relate as friends, equals. They’d go out to eat after the kid’s events. Occasionally, they’d end up being by themselves. It should have been awkward or challenged Candy’s status as the adult, but it didn’t.

There had been a thunderstorm that afternoon, and Evan’s go-kart race had to wait for the track to dry. Candy received a text from Cindy, “I’m working. Why not hit the beach?” Candy told Evan she was going to do some shopping and made the short drive to the public beach, where Cindy was a lifeguard.

Cindy’s shift ended right after Candy arrived at the beach. “I figured you’d be bored waiting for his race,” Cindy told her. “Wanna get something to eat?”

If the psychological rush Candy received when she lied to Evan hadn’t been ignored, Candy wouldn’t have been at the beach. But Candy was at the beach, and her body physically responded when she saw the olive-complected lifeguard in that Baywatch-style swimsuit. That should have told Candy not to go into the changing room with Cindy.

Women change in front of each other all the time, Candy told herself when her niece peeled the red material down her torso. She stared, wondering why the teenager didn’t turn away. Cindy’s breasts were firm, and her nipples were dark-brown rings that faded to a pinkish-brown at their centers. Her stomach rippled with strength as she shifted her hips and slid the bathing suit over them. A black triangle of pubic hair made Candy sigh.

Cindy retrieved the swimsuit with her foot, putting her crotch on display. Neither of them said anything. Cindy stood still with the red material dangling from her hand. Candy took two steps before hitting a force field of absolutes. She reminded herself that Cindy was the sixteen-year-old daughter of her husband’s sister. Sixteen-year-old girls laugh at absolutes. Cindy crashed through Candy’s wall of integrity, and Candy welcomed the naked teenager with open arms. It was the most meaningful and passionate kiss Candy had since the first time Sally kissed her.

During the months that followed, their covert rendezvous increased, as did Candy’s indiscretion. If their caution had kept pace with their lovemaking, Candy imagined they’d still be under the covers. Instead, she had to agree to never see Cindy again in exchange for John’s silence. Why was she still talking to Cindy?

Dirty secrets, danger, and illicit behavior were in Candy’s DNA. That’s what made her feel alive. How could it not after that stormy night? A young, scared girl saw her mother in the flashes of lightning on her hands and knees, naked. That had confused her until she made the connection to what dogs did. Daddy was fucking Mommy, doggy style, on the living room floor while the kids slept on the couch. Except it hadn’t been her father. Candy never told a soul, but she knew her brother had been the one fucking their mother that night.

After throwing on a T-shirt and shorts, Evan quietly collected his stuff and slipped out of Jason’s room. Out in the hallway, he noticed Becky’s door was now partially open. He knew better, but he looked in, anyway. Becky was standing in front of that odd, antique mirror, just like the last time he spent the night. He would have turned and walked away, except she had taken his advice and angled the mirror so she could catch him peeking. They made eye contact. She smiled.

The kittens were still wrestling on the front of her pajama top, but her pigtails were gone. She lifted her arms and brushed her hair. The action caused her shirt to rise and fall. The sight of her small butt playing peek-a-boo intrigued Evan.

“You gonna say something or just stand there staring?”

“What, ah, why did you do that?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

He waited until he was close, looking over her shoulder at her reflection in the mirror, then he said, “You know what I mean. You knew I was awake.”

Becky faked a surprised expression and put her hand over her open mouth. “Oh no, you watched us?”

“Stop playing dumb. You knew. Does Jason know?”

Becky tilted her head quizzically. “I know you knew, but you wanna know if Jason knows?”

It was just like when she used to be Jason’s annoying little sister, except now, Evan wanted to fuck her to death rather than choke her. “Tell me, does he know I know?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. You should ask him if he knows I know you know.”

“Jeez, never mind,” he said. “Does it bother you, you know, that he’s—”

“My brother?”

“Yeah, he’s your brother.”

“Nah, we don’t kiss and all that, like me and you do. It’s just sex.”

“He’s still your brother. That’s—”

“Incest,” Becky said with wide eyes. “Yeah, and that makes it more exciting, but it’s still just sex.”

He stared at her mouth. “How did you do that?”

Becky grinned proudly. “Do what?”

“You know what I mean, Jason, he’s big.”

The hairbrush bounced on the carpet as Becky reached behind her. She found his thighs and moved up. “You think you got a twig?” she asked and handled him like a blind person trying to identify someone’s face. “I was sore the rest of the day after you did what you did to me at the ballpark.”

“What I did? You’re the one—” He shook his head. “Never mind. Jason’s huge.”

“I guess, but he never gets rock hard the way you do.” She squeezed his growing cock. “And he doesn’t fuck me the way you do. You killed me both times.”

You have no idea how much I’d like to kill you right now, he thought. “Is that the threesome you wanted?”

“No, but maybe, if that’s what you wanted.”

“No, no, that’s not what I wanted, and I never even said I was gonna do it.”

“Oh, you’ll do it, believe me.” Becky nodded and gave him a smug grin. “If I can set it up, you’ll do it.”

Jason’s kid sister telling him what he would or wouldn’t do felt a lot like having Gloria’s friend manipulate him into sex. “We’ll see,” he said and rested his hands on the bony knobs at the top of her hips. “How about you not telling Jason I know?”

“How ‘bout you kiss me?”

“I better not.”

“Why? Jason won’t care. It’s not like we’re dating or anything. He’s my brother.”

“Did you tell him about us?”

“Of course not,” Becky said and turned around, looking offended. “You told me not to.”

“Good, that’s good. Let’s keep it that way. It’s better that way. Tell Jason I went home to get some real sleep.”

Becky put her arms around his neck and stood on his feet. “Not unless you kiss me goodbye.”

“Kissing you leads to other things. Things that we can’t do, ah, do now. Last time, your mother almost caught us.”

“Ooh, whatcha think she would have done?”

“Jeez, I’d rather not find out.” The idea of Miss Mary seeing them fuck made his balls buzz. “Let go, I’m leaving.”

She tightened her arms around his neck. “Not till you kiss me.”

Becky’s coy smile made him angry with lust. “Fine,” he said and closed his eyes. Shouldn’t it have been a complete turn-off putting his tongue where Jason’s cock had been?

Candy undressed when she got home, tossing her day-old clothes on the floor like a rebellious child, then she grabbed the first thing hanging in the closet, one of John’s white dress shirts. She buttoned it on her way to the kitchen.

After starting the coffee, Candy sat on the counter and rested her head on the cabinet. She closed her eyes. That was a lifetime ago when I was just the babysitter, she thought and put her hands on her belly. I was pregnant the last time I sat here.

That night, after Evan and Deana were in bed and Sandra was in her room, getting ready for bed, John lifted her and set her right where she was now sitting. He lowered his zipper and pulled her by her legs, dragging her pussy to the edge. Why wasn’t she wearing underwear? Candy didn’t remember, but John had fucked her right there, then he drove her home to the trailer park and paid her.

I wasn’t the adult then. John was. Candy felt her face getting hot thinking about it. It started before that night with blowjobs in the car. He always paid her for babysitting after. That fuck had treated her like his personal whore, and she thought it made her special.

The morning air was warm and flush with moisture. Evan put the car windows down and pulled out of Jason’s driveway, thinking about what had happened. Becky’s shirt had been pulled up, and his hands were fixed on her bare ass, lifting her. She was doing a vertical dry hump on his groin. He was hunching, grinding his erection on her pubic bone.

There was noise in the kitchen. It had to be Becky’s mother. Every kid knows what to do when there is a chance they could get caught doing something wrong. It’s a trained response. Evan ignored it and lifted Becky so he could cram his dick into her pussy. Wasn’t it sick needing to have his cock in the same hole Jason had been in?

Becky cried out, “Do it, fuck me,” and Evan came to his senses. Jason was rubbing off on him, but Evan still thought he had a conscience.

When Evan reached the four-lane, he pulled the leg opening of his shorts aside, exposing his cock and balls to the sun. It made him uncomfortable driving down the road that way, but the warmth felt good. His sack expanded and then contracted because of the disturbed airflow in the car. A pleasant tingle in his rolling balls moved up into his groin. He touched the sun-heated flesh, and blood surged into it. His cock jerked against his inner thigh.

At a red light, Evan realized another car was pulling up on his left. He wasn’t an exhibitionist, so he reached for his raging hard-on, but instead of concealing it, he whipped his dick, slapping the head against the bottom of the steering wheel. Too bad he hadn’t brought Becky’s panties with him. No, it was better knowing she would discover them filled with his cum unless Jason or Miss Mary found them first. Damn pantie fetish.

Evan glanced to his left and saw a woman in the passenger seat. He presumed it was her husband driving, and the young girl in the back seat was their daughter. She was too young for him, but she was cute. He smiled at her, and even though she couldn’t see it, he squeezed his boner, willing her to know what he was doing. The girl smiled back, and so did her mother. The husband drove away, unaware of the special moment Evan had shared with them. Evan’s psyche had been altered when he watched his best friend fuck his sister. Now, his deviant sexual fantasies were starting to manifest in the real world, and he was getting more comfortable with them.

When Evan drove away from the red light, he was ready to fuck the first person he saw when he got home. Two wrongs didn’t make a right, but knowing Jason was ramming the mule into Becky made what he had done with Deana seem okay. They kissed. God, kissing Deana was what Evan imagined smoking crack would be; you get hooked and will do anything to get more. If Deana was crack—”The Messiah is my sister, ain’t no king man she’s my queen.”—what was sex with Candy? Evan shivered at the thought of having to live with Candy, Deana, and Gloria.

Deana looked over her shoulder at her image in Rebecca’s mirror. “It doesn’t fit,” she said. “My ass got bigger.”

Rebecca faced her and grabbed her butt. “It got better,” she said and turned the stretched bikini into a thong. “I wish I had your bubble butt.”

Deana smiled. “You do, anytime you want it.”

When they stopped kissing, Rebecca said, “Let’s go to the mall tomorrow and find something that does your body justice. I could use an upgrade, too.”

“Not a bad idea,” Deana said.

“Maybe my mother can drop us off; then we’ll only have to ride the bus home.”

“Cool,” Deana said and picked up one of Rebecca’s tank top dresses. “I’m gonna throw this on and wear it home. Do you mind?”

“No, but why? You wearing your bikini at home?”

“Yup,” Deana said smugly. “When I get home, and my mother sees most of my ass hanging out of this bathing suit, she’ll offer me money before I have to ask.”

“I love the way you think.”

Deana put the dress on and stuffed her clothes in her overnight bag. Her girlfriend’s expression turned glum and questioning. “Reb, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I understand, but think about what I said.”

“I am,” she said. “Don’t worry, you can still have your birthday present.”

Rebecca’s expression turned hopeful. “No, that’s okay. I don’t—”

“I promised, and I know you,” she said. “I understand ... you.”

“You’re the best, Dee, the best.”

Mary Barnes was holding a prescription bottle in one hand and its information pamphlet in the other. Her eyes were scanning the side effects that she already knew well, but it was the ones the pharmaceutical companies didn’t mention that complicated matters. She had to make a decision.

A preacher’s voice shouting from the pulpit played in her mind, “Do the right thing, and you’ll be blessed...” Her father was the pastor, and to him, it was cut and dry, and he was always right. Too bad the pastor’s daughter had been discovered in the choir loft with her dress up, her panties down, and Elizabeth’s face stuffed between her legs.

The only hope for Mary was to repent and change her ways, or she’d burn in the eternal fire. Under the pretense of protecting the girls from shame and embarrassment, the lesbian activity was kept in the closet. If Elizabeth changed her ways and kept her mouth shut, there wouldn’t be any need to tell her parents. For the rest of that year, her parents rained fire and brimstone down on her. Her mother’s favorite saying was, “Don’t you understand you have to hold yourself to a higher standard? You’re the pastor’s daughter.”

Mary believed in her heart that she could act right, be a perfect young lady, and make her parents proud to have her sitting in the front row of the church. What went wrong?

What was simple, obvious, and easy to accomplish for Mr. Barnes, the preacher man, was complicated, hazy, and impossible for a neglected teenage girl with impulse control disorder. Had Mary’s parents known, they surely would have taken her to a doctor for the medication she needed. Wouldn’t they have?

Betsy Sue’s father was a farmer, and Elizabeth and Betsy were also friends. Who needs a choir loft when you have a hayloft? All was well, and Mary made it to her seventeenth year of life without getting caught again in church without her underwear, engaging in lesbian activities, or giving head to the boys at school. There were some close calls, but Mary avoided bringing shame to her family or jeopardizing her father’s job. Shouldn’t that have counted for something?

“You vile creature, you have a devil in you.” Mary believed her father when he said that. They disowned her because she wouldn’t turn on Deacon Saul, the father of the baby that was in her. It must have been Mary’s fault that he fucked her. After all, she was a bad girl and a disgrace to her parents and God. She left home before her eighteenth birthday with the money she had saved from summer jobs and babysitting, and she was without a family. Mary married the first asshole who told her he loved her.

Seventeen years had passed without a word from the preacher and his wife, but because of a lesbian on the TV show The Voice, Mary was thinking about them with a new degree of disdain. Good for her, Mary thought, outing those haters on national TV.

Mary threw the pill bottle against the wall. It might be scary having a daughter who was just like her, but Mary wouldn’t make the girl take medication if she didn’t want to. It would be Becky’s choice. Who wanted to live like a shell of a person without any highs or lows or spontaneity?

The first thing Evan noticed when he entered the house was the smell of coffee. That was normal, to be expected, but what he saw next was very unusual. His mother’s shapely legs were dangling from the counter. Why was she sitting there? He approached cautiously, not knowing how he should act now that they were lovers. They were lovers, weren’t they?

His mother was wearing a man’s dress shirt, his father’s. The ends of the white shirt overlapped on the tops of her thighs. Her nipples bulged under the white material. She wasn’t wearing a bra.

“Good morning, Evan,” Candy said. “You’re home early.”

He moved toward her, avoiding direct eye contact. “Mom.” The word seemed as unnatural as it had the first time his father made him use it.

“Evan.”

His eyes wandered to Candy’s feet, calves, knees, thighs, and the space between them. The weight of her tits tugged at the shirt’s buttons. Evan could see the freckles in his mother’s cleavage. How could he look without touching? His heart jumped when he put his hands on her knees. They separated, and he stepped between them. His palms slid up Candy’s thighs.

Candy’s feet caressed his legs, sending a chill up his back. He tossed the ends of the shirt aside and settled his thumbs into the folds where her body joined her legs. His fingers grabbed her hips. She wasn’t wearing underwear either. Her pussy lips were pressed out against the countertop. His mother held his face. He wasn’t sure what he would see in her eyes, so he palmed the sides of her chest, circled the globes, and lifted them, before looking into the eyes of the woman he was supposed to think of as his mother. She stroked his earlobes with her thumbs, and he saw it in her eyes.

“Honey, you know this is when I’m supposed to tell you it was wrong, and we can’t let it happen again, right?”

Evan’s lips were already pressed against Candy’s when he said, “Right.” His fingers fumbled with the buttons on the shirt. Her eyelids slowly fell like she was falling asleep. He licked her dry lips, and they parted for his tongue. Candy dug her heels into his butt and squeezed his neck, pressing her mouth to his. The passion in her kiss turned his excitement into a blinding lust. The buttons popped off his father’s shirt and clinked across the tile floor. He found her nipples. They felt bigger than he had imagined them when he’d stare at her chest, hoping a breeze would blow. He wanted to feel one poking the back of his throat while he sucked as much of her tit into his mouth as he could.

Air swept across his throbbing cock head and his tight ball sack. His mother had shoved his shorts down. He looked at his erection standing in front of her pussy. His chest tightened, and he struggled to breathe. He grabbed on where her butt fanned out on the counter and pulled her to the edge. His mother’s smile was pleasant and loving, but her eyes were mischievous. She wrapped her fingers around his cock head. Evan trembled. She pressed the purple knob into her pussy groove and moved it up and down. The fleshy channel engulfed his head and coated it with hot, slipperiness. He dipped down, took a deep breath, and entered his mother’s body. Her eyes opened wide, and her expression changed. “Oh, baby, you feel so good inside me.”

A great urgency swept over him, and without looking away from Candy’s eyes, Evan plunged the rest of his dick into her. Was there anything else that could consume his whole being the way the pulsing flesh of a woman’s pussy did?

“Give it to me,” Candy said, using her legs to help him. “Fuck me, oh baby, fuck me.”

The F-word coming out of his mother’s mouth made Evan want more of her. He grunted and lifted her by her ass, then slammed her down on his cock. His fantasy world and reality had merged. He was fucking his babysitter. “Ah, oh, Cah ... ah, Candy.” The name had finally come out of his mouth, but it felt as unnatural as Mom.

“Oh, Evan, yes.” Candy tightened her arms and legs and pulled her face beside his. “You’re so good, Evan. You make me feel so goood, ahh...”

Evan felt her orgasm coming on. Her legs were trying to crush him, but he kept bouncing her and thrusting into her, working with one purpose. “I’m ... ah, I’m gonna...” He was carrying his Candy on his exploding cock, but he didn’t feel her weight; she was a part of him. His orgasm poured into her for the third time in two days. The woman empowered him.

Candy loosened her arms and leaned back. “I love you, Evan. I love you so much.” Tears welled at the rims of her eyes. They kissed with more passion than seemed possible.

When his dick slid out of his mother, she loosened her legs. He lowered her to the floor but continued holding her close. His heart hurt with love. It was a love he knew would never reach its full potential.

“Honey, I’m sorry,” Candy said.

Evan held her by her shoulders and said, “I was the one who—”

“No, I’m the adult ... the one who should know better. You know we can’t do that again. It’s wrong, and I can’t let it happen again.”

“But don’t you feel the way I feel? I love you,” he said.

“I know, and I love you,” she said. “I’ve always loved you and always will, but we can’t do this. It won’t work. It can’t work.”

Evan’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. What was there to say? She was right.

“Evan, you didn’t do anything wrong.” She reached for him, but her hands stopped and hung awkwardly between them. “We can’t stand here like this. One of the girls might come home. We’ll talk later, okay?”

Candy didn’t wait for a response; she started walking toward her room. Evan stood there for a minute, then he turned in a circle, thinking about what his father always said before a trip, “You’re the man of the house while I’m gone. You take care of the women.”

Deana adjusted her bikini bottoms, turned, and pushed her butt back. Then she pulled up the sundress she borrowed from Rebecca and said, “Mom, do you think I need a new bathing suit?”

Rebecca smiled and said, “Mm, you’ll either get money for a new one, or you’ll make her jealous.”

Deana faked a chuckle, thinking about Candy’s butt in those jeans. Part of her hoped her mother would be envious. “Yeah, right, you have never seen Candy in tight jeans.”

“Candy?” Rebecca said.

“Oops, you know what I meant.”

“I like Candy,” Rebecca said, “it’s a sexy name that fits her.”

“I agree, but my father—I better not get in the habit of using the babysitter’s name.”

Rebecca looked at her funny, then finally said, “Come on, my mom will drive you home. I’m going back to bed. You wore me out.”

“Me!”

Rebecca giggled and ran out of the room. “Come on.”

Evan’s body was still buzzing with post-orgasm jitters when he reached the hallway outside his sister’s rooms. He stopped and stared at Deana’s empty bed. The only sound was his breathing and a groan from the floorboards. It was good that Deana wasn’t home. That meant he could get some sleep before telling her about the fight. He whispered, “I just had sex with Mom in the kitchen.” Jeez, I won’t be saying that out loud again.

When Evan reached his room, he undressed and threw his shorts at the wall the same way he had thrown his towel the night he didn’t get to have Candy. He got in bed and stared at the ceiling, thinking about Candy, the babysitter, his first true love, and his stepmother.

The babysitter had become the person Evan most associated with as a mother figure. Could he live without a mother again? He imagined his hands on her tits, his lips on her neck, and the fire between her legs, and wondered, did it have to be one or the other, Mom or Candy? Couldn’t he love her both ways? He could slide seamlessly from role to role, son to lover, and back. Why not? She had been his true love first. Hadn’t she?

He loved Candy, and he loved Deana and Gloria. “Oh, fuck me, I’m fucked,” Evan said and closed his eyes.

When Deana got home, she was surprised to see Evan’s car. He was supposed to be at Jason’s. It made her uneasy. She wouldn’t be able to show Candy her ass if he was there. That was what she wanted to do, wasn’t it? She wanted to let her mother know that she had an ass, too. It was stupid being envious of her mother’s body, and it was worse being jealous about a secret affair that Candy and Evan might be having. It was most likely just her wild imagination. Deana huffed, frustrated with her feelings. It was ridiculous thinking about Evan and Candy together. And if they were fucking, she should be happy for both of them, especially now that she wasn’t going to have sex with Evan.

Grow up, Deana told herself, then she dropped her overnight bag on the kitchen floor and headed to Candy’s room.

The bedroom door was closed, so Deana did her usual rap-tap-tap and listened. When she heard, “Come in,” she opened the door, ready to impress her mother with what Rebecca referred to as an ass to die for. “Ma—” Her mother’s tits silenced Deana.

Candy was standing there in one of her father’s shirts. Deana gasped, trying to apologize and retreat. Her mother’s chest appeared bigger without a bra. Her breasts didn’t hang like Deana thought they might. They rested on her body, swelled at the bottom of each globe, and bulged at her sides, holding the shirt open. Her nipples were huge.

After what seemed like minutes, Candy finally crossed her arms and said, “Dee, I said one minute.”

“So ... sorry, I thought you said come in. I’m sorry. I’ll go.” She started backing up.

“Did you need something?”

“Um, yeah, but it can wait.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, yes, it’s nothing.” Deana pulled the door shut as she left the room, and then she stood there replaying the scene in her head. Did one minute sound anything like come in?

When Deana reached the kitchen, she dropped mindlessly onto a chair. She knew Candy had a nice body, but that wasn’t nice, it was fucking hot. Her mom’s stomach was flat, and there were grooves cut down each side of her perfectly trimmed bush, which was more strawberry than the hair on her head. Those plump swells of labia bulging between her thighs—Stop, Deana told herself, it’s wrong thinking about her body that way. Damn it, that woman is a sex goddess.