Tapestry Book 4: Straight, No Chaser
Copyright© 2025 by A funny bowl of custard
Chapter 2: Dancing around the issue
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 2: Dancing around the issue - Our survivor recalls his senior year in high school as a time when he got almost everything he thought he wanted, but can he keep it in spite of his own flaws? Regardless of his decisions, the status quo he has become comfortable with is going to end.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft mt/Fa Fa/Fa ft/ft Reluctant Romantic Incest Mother Son Brother Sister Daughter Niece Aunt Nephew Grand Parent Light Bond Group Sex Polygamy/Polyamory Anal Sex Pregnancy Slow Violence
Tuesday: 0800
The tickets were a gift from Sarah. I was uncertain if she was meddling in attempt to give herself some space, an act of friendship, or merely attempting to cover our recent dalliances. Alex had driven as I was still months away from being legally able to do so, even if I had purchased and christened Lucy. She was more formally dressed than I. I wore my favorite black jeans and a blue button down; she dazzled me with a combination of gray and white and a flash of red when she stepped too quickly. I had been here before on my non-date with Lis, and I remembered how badly that had turned out. We strolled to the booth and I handed over my tickets. A key moment in my life would happen there, but that was a few years down the road.
I glanced around and realized we could have just walked in and no-one would have noticed. The auditorium smelled yellow and looked beige. We moved up the stairs, her hand lightly grasping mine. I couldn’t help stopping to admire the spider-web cracks in the edifice on the landing before moving up to the second floor. She waived a hand towards the center and I offered my best practiced smile in return.
Things between us hadn’t been ‘normal’ for a while. I was still trying to force our interactions into that same pattern, rather than letting them grow.
We took the seats she’d chosen. An elderly couple came in and sat a few rows behind us. I pulled a book from my jacket pocket and began to read Remo’s latest contract while in the seat next to me Alex indulging herself in something called The Theory of Voting.
Amazing. I’ve been outdone in pretentiousness.
She smiled in a way that caught me off guard and I tried to brush it off with, “Better dressed and more serious today.”
She answered back with a hint of mischief, “Thought you didn’t like being serious.”
“It is one of those things I prefer to prevent.” A loud hissing noise came from the septuagenarian viper behind us and I waived my hand in her direction. “Show hasn’t even started, love.”
Despite my protest we remained quiet as the orchestra warmed up, sputtering out miscued and out-of-place notes. Eventually the lights flickered, books were quickly stashed in purse and jacket pocket, and the show began. It wasn’t a marvelous performance, but it was enjoyable. Though I’d say it was made more so by the hand that was squeezing mine and the hair that came to rest on my shoulder, than by the horns and violins alternating between minor keys. A year ago, I’d have been ecstatic just to be here with Alex; but since I’d realized there was never going to be anything between us I found myself wishing Sarah were in her place.
It was an impossibility of course. Even if Sarah and I did get to progress beyond make-out session on the couch having her on my arm in public would be years away. I was askew, each thought putting me more off balance.
Am I just repeating myself? Why the fuck did I have lunch with Amanda? I know I love Sarah, but does that mean it would be any different? If something real does happen, what does that mean for my friendship with Alex? Fuck, I need to talk to someone to sort this out. I need a sounding board, but I go to Sarah for those things.
I needed a distraction and I noticed the near door remained open light peeking through. As the second movement swelled I stood, she glanced at me questioning and I nodded to the door. Leading her by the hand to the hallway, she mouthed at me, “What’s going on?”
Once in the hallway the movement drifted into the hall and she recognized the time scale. She understood. I offered my other hand and she grasped it. I pulled her close and we began to move. A waltz is a simple enough task, even one in an art deco hallway outside of an auditorium with the occasional flashes of headlights shining through windows. We danced and I noticed how close we were. A millimeter and our lips would meet, but the inchoate organ that stood in place of my heart and beat only in her presence and two others stalled slightly as she whispered, “If you could have anything in the world?”
I knew the question well; she was fond of it. I was consumed my dalliances with Sarah the love I felt for Alex and my own view of myself. Eventually a thought coalesced.
I wish I was here with Sarah.
I bit my lip and lied, “A cup of tea would be nice.” It was only sort of a lie, a cup of tea would be nice, but it wasn’t the one thing I wanted at that moment. I hated lying. I preferred brutal honesty. It was a matter of principle. The truth hurts, it burns, and it scars but Reality is. Reality is. I hated lying, but I always did it to protect myself or what was mine and that is something Alex would never be.
I let my hands drop. I stepped back towards our seats and noticed the viper glaring. I didn’t know if she was annoyed at my frivolity or jealous that she hadn’t gotten to join in the dance.
Friday Morning: Approximately 0400 hours
I did my best to set the weight bar back on the rack as quietly as possible. The slight burn had become a habit to start my days since I’d been able to work out again post abduction. I moved to the shower pod, taking my time to make sure I’d not woken Lis up with my morning rituals. I took care of basic hygiene and then dried off. I headed back towards the bed. Lis and I didn’t share a bed that often, but she was far more prone to sleeping in than I was, though she’d have to hike back up the hill for her car even if she wore some of Alex or Beth’s clothes that had been left here. She’d have to borrow one of my shirts too, due to the difference in size between the three girls’ tops.
I slipped under the covers thinking I’d managed to avoid disturbing her as her breathing was still deep and regular when she let out a quiet, “Missed you.”
“You were asleep, you couldn’t have.”
Her voice answered back just a bit louder than a whisper, “You’ve been working out for 90 minutes.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“So, why’d you drag me down here anyway?”
“Drag you?”
“Last Thursday you climbed in my window, this one you dragged me back to your cave.”
I took her in my arms, “Metaphorically speaking, I dragged you back to my cave because your Dad was home and your mother’s window rules say no staying over when he is home.”
She shifted, “I forgot he has court today.”
“Yeah, we do.”
I closed my eyes, but I felt her tense a bit as she realized where I had to be that day, “So, is next Thursday going to be a window day? Or are you going to try Tracy and Mon’s window?”
May have to shift things up, since she’s clocked onto me being revved up on Thursdays. Truth is I’m not used to getting worked up without a release. The closest I’ve had to this before was Mindy and the teasing initiative. Mindy ... I suppose I could try to talk to her.
“Maybe Monday or Tuesday, but it’d be yours. Mon is still acting all guilty since her trip to camp and my little one told me to leave her be till she’d fixed it ... plus I don’t have a deal with their mother.”
“Why would she feel guilty?”
“Tracy said it was a pattern. Her folks are religious. Mon apparently took it to heart, so she’ll go through guilt spells about the sex with me, the squad, and especially her sister. Apparently, the camp things was new and that is why she has been off.”
“I get that. Feeling guilty about the stuff you’ve done.”
I opened my eyes and met hers. I knew what she was thinking, “You’re not to blame for what happened back then; just like there isn’t anything wrong with Monica’s doing right now.”
“You ... you really don’t get it.”
“You were taken advantage of.”
“Probably, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t aware of what happened. It doesn’t mean I didn’t like it at first. It doesn’t mean it wasn’t my decision.”
“That doesn’t change anything. You’ve nothing to feel guilty about.”
“Beth is the only one who gets it.”
Why would she? Oh.