Part VI - Lies So Extreme

As the brutal summer sun beat down on the suburban paradise of Danover, Kev Heterson, up-and-coming sixteen year-old blackmailer, stood halfway between the back of his house and the swimming pool, his back to his now softly snoring aunt, who only moments earlier he had been enthusiastically dry-humping.

But that was completely over now except for his own personal clean-up, or it should have been, but the Danover Junior High School senior had just discovered that there had been a witness to the incestuous indiscretion he’d visited upon his mother’s little sister.

Dammit! I am so screwed, for reals this time. Jeez, I just can’t catch a break today, now can I? Guess it’s karma for going spanktastic on Tia. But no matter what happens, that was SO worth it! And ... and...

... and why isn’t this Peeping Tom speaking? Why aren’t they saying anything? I can’t even see them in this stupid light, should have worn my Oaklies, crap...

The heatwave’s illumination was at near-blinding levels, Kev could barely tell the intruder was male, so at least that ruled out his mom, and of course Tia, which would have sucked ‘cause the soccer player could have definitely used this against him in order to release her from her bondage to the happy-time shower vid he’d taken of her.

Can’t be Dad, he’s still out of town at the convention, so ... wait, damn, I know who it is!

And Heterson breathed a vast sigh of relief.

“Dude!” said the revealed stranger, “Who’s the ultra babe! And what the heck were you doin ta her?”

Kev shot forward and rushed up to the newcomer, caught his arm in a tight grip and muscled him into the house, shut the French doors behind them and twisted the lock into place. The other guy tried to speak, but Kev glared him to silence and gesturing toward the stairs they both quickly ascended.

Five seconds later they were in his room and that door was sealed and locked too, Kev sank into the old battered easy chair he sat in to play Xbox and puffed out his cheeks, marvelling at how close he might have come to actually being caught committing such an unforgivable crime.

“Dude! What the heck is goin on!”

“Shut-up, Randy.” he rolled his eyes at and picked at the chair’s frayed leather armrest.

Randal “Randy” Blavin was his best friend, a tall, lanky guy of equal age, with thick curly hair and a permanent crooked smile stretching across his round baby-face. Nothing dirty Kev every thought up ever came close to the perverted swill that was seething around inside his mega-horny friend’s brain. Though what Randy had just caught him doing might actually come close, just this once.

But how much did he actually see, wondered Kev. Maybe he didn’t really see anything-

“Dude!” exclaimed Randy, “You were actually FUCKING that college chick, missionary style!”

Or, maybe he saw it all. Crap...

“Who is she?” demanded his best pal, “She’s damn fine! I’d hit that! Like, a million times, and two million on Sundays! But missionary is a waste of time, you should have flipped her over and propped up her ass and-”

“Shut-up, Randy! Keep your voice down!”

The curly-haired guy frowned, looked confused, “What’s the deal, Kev? Why so nervous? What you take? Speed? Yeah, I bet it’s speed.”

“I didn’t take speed, dipshit. It’s just that ... that ... um, that girl--woman, she’s ... uh...”

Randy dropped onto his bed and started picking at a knee-scab, “She sorta looks like your mom, only way hotter. And yer mom is kinda hot anyway, if nuthin to brag about face-wise. But I’d do her, just from behind, no offense.”

“Shut-up, Randy.”

“Or maybe from the front if I put a paper bag over her head.”

“Shut-up, Randy!”

“Like Celine Dion in that South Park episode! Hah!”

“I’m going to fucking KILL you if you don’t shut it!” Kev nearly shouted.

Randy blinked at him, “Shit, dude, what crawled up your ass and laid eggs? I’m only joshin’ ya.”

“Just quit it then.” exhaled Kev, rubbing at his pounding temples.

“But I’d still do your mom.” grinned Randy, “And that chick in the backyard who looks like her too. Hey, does she like guys our age, is that why she was letting you do that?”

Letting you do that, digested Kev. Okay, maybe I can work with this...

“Um ... yeah, she sort of does. But you can’t talk about this, not with anybody.”

“But-”

“With nobody, Randy!”

“Yeah, but this is huge-”

“Five Playboys.”

The other guy paused, licked his lips.

“ ... seven.”

“Five.”

“Seven, dude, this is huge.”

“One.”

“What?!” gaped Randy at him from the bed, “One! Going backwards, that’s not how you negotiate, dude!”

“One. This month’s Hustler.”

Randy’s jaw sagged, “ ... really?”

Kev reached under his desk and pulled free the magazine that has concealed there, held it up.

“Shiiiit!” and his friend bounced up and down on the bed, “You gots yourself a deal, dude!” and Kev tossed over the price of his pal’s silence, Randy caught it and drooled down at the cover, “Sooo sweet. Gonna make this one all sticky an’ shit!”

“Uck, do it on your own time.”

“Yeah, like I’m gonna choke it in front of you, fag.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you.”

Randy stuck the mag in his backpack and then leaned back on his elbows, “But okay, spill it. You bought me off, so I’m never gonna tell on ya, but you gotta fill me in, Kev. What’s the deal with that hot college chick!”

Kev rubbed at his temples some more, then reached out a hand and flicked on his stereo, filling the room with heavy metal, drowning out their voices for anybody who might be listening. They were alone in the house, but one could never be too careful.

They both leaned forward til nearly their noses were touching, and Kev finally popped a grin that challenged Randy’s permanent one, “Okay, but you’re a dead man if you ever breath a word of this, and I’m not shitting you here, because I might as well eat a bullet if this ever gets out.”