Chapter 3: A Wednesday In Your Garden

Cassidy and I typically took Wednesdays for a midweek ‘office’ day. We were both top performers in school and required fewer classes for graduation—THANK GOD. After spending the night with Lucy, I was relieved to have a recovery day. Cassidy sat at my corner computer desktop across the room, tapping away at her tablet. At the same time, I riffled through a trashy teen fashion magazine. My assistant had been lovely enough to lie with me for a nap. Now, we were hard at work—err—kind of.

“Tonight,” Cass started. “You have Marcy Beale.” She fixed her glasses and rolled her fingers up the surface. “Then, tomorrow is Alice, and Friday is—”Cassidy grimaced as if her mere name pained her. “Friday is Zara Stanton.”

I rolled onto my stomach and pulled on the long white tee that concealed my nudity. Giggling, I grinned at Cassidy when she entered my sight. “Don’t care for Zara, do we, Miss Black?”

Cass looked as if she were deliberating, then shook her head with typical nervousness. “It’s not that, Miss Skye. Zara is beautiful and successful, and talented, and—”

“And you disapprove just the same.” I interrupted Cassidy’s filibuster and rolled onto my back. “Who do YOU recommend I marry?” I watched her face, and she hemmed and hawed for several moments. Her shoulders shrank as I perused. “Who, then?” I enjoyed this game.

She pivoted the choir with her knees away from my playful glare. “It’s up to you, Sunny.” She mewed.

“CASS...” I nagged.

“Lucy.” Cass huffed under duress. Cassidy creaked her neck and peered at me from the corner of her eye. “Miss Kurosawa is the nicest of your prospects.”

“Yeah?” I smiled. “I was leaning towards her myself. Last night was amazing. She’s kind-hearted, intelligent, and not to mention—”I bit my bottom lip with a dramatic pause. “She kept up with me all night.” My cock thickened just thinking about her. “I swear, she took load after load and wanted more. She reminds me of you, Cass.”

“That’s very nice of you to say.” Cassidy blushed. She always hated compliments, so I tried to use them sparingly. It worked. Her shoulders eased, and her feet relaxed calmly back on the floor. Still, she breathed uneasily. “D—did you need any servicing right now?” Her eyes glazed over the tent that my cock was now pitching until my shirt.

“Oh, this?” I chirped, pretending it hadn’t been throbbing since Lucy crept back into my head. “That would be lovely, Cass.” I rolled the shirt up enough to expose myself. “Let’s put those lovely lips of yours to use.” Cass had put her weight on the ball of one foot when she balked at the bedroom door handle’s jiggling. “Come in!” I shot out while returning my shirt to its modest position.

“Hola, Chicas!” My older lake-surfing beach bum cousin Brandi’s cheesy greeting always made me grin. Several years my senior, Brandi was much taller and broader. With a deep, permanent tan and a short, dirty blonde haircut, Brandi’s confident look was always a source of envy for me. “What’s up, girls?” She ran a finger under her small black tank top—the only fabric holding in those size DDs. I watched a pocket of sand tumble down her shirt onto my carpet. “Lazy hump day?” She asked.

“As usual.” I sighed, pulling the magazine back to my face. I saw her turn towards Cass and wrap her brawny, chiseled arms around my assistant’s shoulders. “Hey, Cass.” She cooed, leaning in.

“Hey, Brandi,” Cass said flatly, distractedly. Her curves squirmed beneath Brandi’s vise grip. She tried to busy herself with the tablet. “Did you need something?” She whispered, nearly breathless.

“Oh yeah!” I heard Brandi giggle before landing gentle kisses on the back of Cass’s neck. “I’m pretty dirty—headed to the shower.” A moment of silence. Brandi’s tongue was probably busy. She finally stopped and turned toward me. “May I?”

To say my relationship with Brandi was complex would be an understatement. She’s my cousin through adoption, so we aren’t related by blood. A full-fledged Skye, nonetheless, fate saw it fit to plop two unrelated futanari into the same family. Girls with our ‘condition’ started appearing in Toronto 25 years ago after a failed experiment at a local energy plant. The factory’s parent company, Masters Energy, financially compensated the affected families. Nowadays, futanari are a common enough minority.

I gave her an enthusiastic nod and smile. “There should be plenty of hot water for you.” It was difficult not to stare at Brandi’s magnificent form, and it reminded me why I never wear shorts as high as Brandi’s. I could make out her cock’s outline through the fabric from her cutoff khaki chinos’ bottoms.

Although intelligent and cunning, Brandi lacked ambition outside of surfing and sex. I could see which of her hobbies she was currently working on.

“Gracias!” Brandi winked at me, but not before glancing at the package between my legs. “Hey Cassidy, wanna help wash my back?”

“Now?” She quipped, appearing annoyed. “I’m busy, Brandi. Sunny and I are—”

“—It’s nothing that can’t wait, Cass.” I sat up and snickered. “I wouldn’t want to deny you a little Skye cock. Everybody knows how much you love it.”

Cass gave a half-smile. “Yeah, I guess so.” She let Brandi lead her to my adjoining shower without another word. That’s another thing I don’t get about Cassidy--she shrinks so often and feigns a scandal whenever someone wants to fuck her. That wouldn’t be so annoying if I didn’t see her sneak off with the groundskeeper every morning while she had my fresh load dripping from her thighs. I understand the need for discretion. But this was just Brandi and me—this was always a shame-free zone.

I turned to my magazine as the shower came on in the background. It wasn’t long before I heard Cassidy’s throaty grunts under the roar of the shower. I imagined Brandi spreading Cassidy’s thick thighs and plunging herself inside—Cassidy’s huge tits bouncing as the steaming water cascaded down her skin. God—I could picture it.

I couldn’t tell you when I started touching myself. But all those sultry sounds were soon drowned out by my lustful panting. I lay on my side as I stroked my hardness. My throbbing member grew, as did the butterflies in my stomach. The visions of the shower scene drove me wild. I squeezed my thighs together and rolled the skin of my cock upward. “Ngh!” I squeaked as my orgasm rocked me. A strong rope of cum lay soaking in my magazine. “Wow...” I whispered. Being a voyeur is hot, but it doesn’t quite compare to the conquest of a lover between your legs.

I hoped to rectify that this afternoon.

☼☼☼

I was less secretive regarding my relationship with Marcy Beale. Any student or faculty member could often spot me kissing her neck between classes. Although we were from different social castes, the prep and the hippie got along famously. Marcy’s parents owned a law firm that often took on million-dollar class action lawsuits against corporations. Thank god that was never a concern for the Skyes. That would make our sex very weird if our families were suing each other.

Marcy spent most of her extracurricular time in the school greenhouse. I found her that Wednesday afternoon, hunched over a bonsai tree, snipping its branches with a careful hand. I stood back to take in her earthly image, not wanting to startle her. Tangled, dirty blonde hair fell past her bare, freckled shoulders as she worked. Her forest green halter top indicated her rustic side, while her quilted, patched ankle-length skirt screamed boho-chic. She was a hipster buffet, much to my delight. “Psst...” I whispered, getting sick of waiting.

She turned with pruners in hand, her emerald eyes lit with glee. “Four o’clock already?” She spoke with a sophisticated diction. “So many branches, so little time.” Marcy smiled. Despite being the same age, Marcy was 6 inches taller than I was. Lean and lanky, she had an accurate model’s body type (think magazine ad for one of those expensive teen fashion lines).

Her tanned skin radiated in the greenhouse’s magnifying light as she staggered toward me. Those deep, green eyes burned a hole of lust through my skirt.

“Please don’t talk about cutting branches, looking at my cock, while holding those ‘things’ in your hand, Marcy.” I rolled my eyes playfully, even though the sight of sharp metallic blades with rusty tips did make me twitch. I sighed loudly, cocking my head and sliding towards her. “What are you working on?”

“Pruning this for Doctor Chamberlin.” She turned back and grazed a delicate hand across the plant’s stiff leaves. “All of these are hers.” Marcy gestured at the various shades and shapes of greens that covered almost every shelf on the walls. “If I manage not to kill any, I think she’ll get me a position in one of her research labs in Vancouver.” She smiled towards me, crossing her fingers.

“I thought you were going to law school,” I asked, probably sounding more confused than I should. Even with college around the corner, we’re allowed and expected to change our minds a million times. I almost regretted asking as soon as the words left my lips. “Sorry, Marcy.” My tongue stumbled as I tried to backtrack. “It’s not like you have to clear things with me, we’re just—”

“—We’re what?” Marcy flashed a lopsided grin. “Fucking?” Her eyebrow cocked. Marcy’s body was too much for me. Her chiseled broad shoulders and fit torso sat atop a muscular and leggy bottom. She was bigger than me and so, SO much more substantial. There had been many times when I’ve come close to swooning just from being in her strong arms. Her voice was calm yet assertive. My pulse quickened as she moved forward.

Her kiss was so exciting. I felt the warmth of her ruby-red lips as her tongue flickered against mine. My loins ached for her. I groaned into her mouth as our French kiss lingered. Marcy wrapped her long arms around the small of my back and pulled me in tightly. I know she could feel my hardness mashed against her leg. My fingers massaged her damp mound through her skirt. “Wanna take a walk?” She whispered in my ear.

“You don’t want your little plant friends to see me bend you over?” I laughed. I rubbed her cunt harder.

Marcy squirmed away from my grip. “Something like that.” She sighed, taking a few steps toward the exit. “You coming or what?”

For such a small student body, our campus was sprawling. Marcy led me deep behind the greenhouse, past the academic buildings and softball field, toward a winding path on the far side of campus. Towering evergreens engulfed the narrow mulch lane, and the peaty smell of the wilderness filled my happy lungs as we held hands silently. Then, I heard water, and I was amazed when the path opened up slightly to reveal a tiny brook no more than 3 feet wide and maybe 6 inches deep.