The Greenfield Family
Copyright© 2025 by icehead
Chapter 24: Paula’s Date
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 24: Paula’s Date - Unfaithful, inattentive parents in a failing marriage. Bickering siblings who can barely stand to be in the same room. A sister who jetted off to college and never calls. A long list of secrets and dark histories. These are the ingredients that make up the dysfunctional Greenfield family. But the oldest son's girlfriend has a plan to help repair this fractured family, by converting them to her own family's not-so-conventional lifestyle.
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft Ma/ft mt/Fa Fa/Fa ft/ft Fa/ft Blackmail Coercion Consensual Drunk/Drugged Rape Romantic Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Cheating Sharing Slut Wife Mother Son Brother Sister Father Daughter Cousins Uncle Niece Aunt Nephew BDSM Rough Gang Bang Group Sex Orgy Polygamy/Polyamory Swinging Anal Sex Cream Pie Double Penetration Exhibitionism First Facial Masturbation Oral Sex Sex Toys Tit-Fucking Voyeurism Nudism Slow
Paula was surprised when she heard Bobbi’s door close and turned to see Zander emerging. Although everyone downstairs sounded still engrossed in the game they were watching, she still kept her voice low when she approached him and asked, “You didn’t want to ... with them?”
Zander screwed up his face and shrugged. “It just didn’t feel right. Not without you there.”
Paula creased her brow as she stared at her brother. She wasn’t sure whether she felt more affection or pity for him right then. “Zander, I have an honest excuse. I’m waiting for a date, remember?”
“I know, but...” his face again contorted as he searched for words to explain himself. “Being with our cousins felt like something I should share with you, if I was gonna do it at all.”
“You didn’t have a problem having Bobbi to yourself last night,” Paula pointed out. Then she looked past him as she picked up the sound of their little sister’s voice moaning from behind her door. “And she’s definitely not having a problem with them now.”
“Yeah, that’s Bobbi. She’s in a category of her own.”
Paula paused, studying Zander carefully. “And what category is Lance in?”
Zander had no immediate response to this. He looked back silently at Paula, at a loss for words.
Paula lowered her voice even further. “We both know how my date with him is likely gonna end. Are you gonna ask me not to do that with him? Out of loyalty to you?”
His answer didn’t come without some hesitation, but he managed to squeeze out very clearly, “No. I won’t ask you that. You can do what you want.”
“So can you,” Paula insisted, gesturing with her hand back toward Bobbi’s door.
“I am.”
They both fell silent again, their eyes meeting in a long moment of silence, which was broken only by the sound of Paula’s phone chiming. She waited a moment longer than was necessary to look away from Zander and pull her phone out, revealing the text message from Lance: “Hope you’ve got your face on or whatever you call it. I’m on my way.”
“Oh, shit, I gotta finish getting ready!” Paula blurted, and hurried into her room. She got to her door and paused halfway in, stopping to look back at Zander once more, trying to convey ... whatever it was she was feeling that she couldn’t put a name to. Then she forced herself to focus and shut her door, rushing to her closet.
Paula thought she’d gotten more or less presentable by the time the doorbell rang. She privately thought she would have liked to doll herself up a little more first, but she figured Lance wasn’t the type of guy who would get weird with her for not having worn enough eyeliner.
When she opened her door, she could already hear Lance’s jovial, laughing voice coming up the stairs as he made introductory small talk with her dad and the Ishizawas. She slowly made her way downstairs, letting everyone hear her footsteps. Her eyes were immediately drawn to Lance’s surfer boy mop of hair near the front door, and he looked up as she made her appearance, taking in the slim-fitting miniskirt and tube top she’d chosen. “Hey, Paula,” he said in an admiring tone. “Would you be terribly offended if I drooled a little?”
“That sounds like a compliment to me,” Madeline said with a cheeky grin.
Lance turned to regard Madeline at this comment, narrowing his eyes as if studying her. He pointed towards her and looked back to Paula, saying, “Hey, didn’t you say your mom was that lady on the evening news? She looks different on TV.”
The dopey grin on his face conveyed that he knew this wasn’t her mother and was just being facetious, but Paula still playfully shoved him. “That’s my aunt Madeline, you dope!” she laughed.
“Whaaat??” he said in feigned surprise. “You have an aunt this cute? You should’ve told me!”
Madeline grinned, turning to Rick and Sota. “I like him.”
Ignoring Madeline, Rick stepped forward. “Now I expect her back by eleven,” he declared.
“Of course, I can do that,” Lance nodded.
Paula blinked in surprise. “Dad, you’ve never given me a curfew on my dates before!”
“Well it’s the first one you’ve been on since...” He trailed off, seeming unable to even say the words anymore.
Lance put an arm around Paula’s shoulders. “I promise you, Mr. Greenfield, she’s safe as houses with me ... Whatever that means. I won’t disappoint you.” He had an air of sincerity about him that was undeniable. As much as Rick appeared to be looking for things to not trust about Lance, he was coming up blank.
“I’ll be fine, Dad, I promise,” Paula said, already heading out the door. “See you later.”
She had just set one foot out the door when she suddenly heard her own voice behind her say, “I’m fine, really, don’t worry.” Paula whirled around to see Lance holding up his phone to everyone. He turned to look at her with a sly grin, and then laughed.
“Jeez, Paula, your face right now!”
He hit a button on his phone again, and once more Paula heard her own voice repeating, “I’m fine, really, don’t worry.”
With everyone staring at Lance, he finally explained, “She’s been saying it to everyone at school these last couple of days. I figured she might as well have a recording of herself saying it. This seemed like a good time to break it out.” Then he turned to look back at Paula and continued, “I can send you the file.”
Paula spat out a chuckle and rolled her eyes. “Would you come on!” she laughed, and grabbed Lance’s arm to pull him out the door with her.
“I really like him!” Madeline called after them.
The last voice she heard before they left was Rick once again saying, “Remember, by eleven!”
Paula rolled her eyes again, but not in amusement this time. “I remember,” she moaned, and shut the door behind them.
As they got into Lance’s car, Paula sighed and looked at him apologetically. “My dad’s not usually like that,” she said.
“Hey, don’t sweat it,” Lance said as he started the car. “If I were in his shoes, I’d probably be helicopter parenting you too after what you’ve been through.”
Paula raised an eyebrow, but kept a slight smile on her face. “You’re not gonna start being my shadow or something to protect me, are you?”
“Eh, from what I can tell, you got enough protectors already,” Lance shrugged.
Paula’s mind immediately went to Zander, and she smiled happily. Thoughts of waking up in his arms were always enough to put her in a good mood—except that was probably the wrong way to get there when she was on a date with another guy. She opted to shift gears and asked, “So where are we going?”
“Well, I got a few ideas. You ever been axe throwing?”
“Axe throwing?” Paula said, eyes widening. “That’s a new one.”
“There’s a place me and my dad go sometimes. The owner knows me there.” Lance took his eyes briefly off the road to give her that same sly grin again. “In fact, I made some arrangements with him. Got something special planned for tonight.”
“Something special?” Paula asked warily. “Special how?”
“Nuh-uh,” Lance shook his head. “No spoiling the surprise.”
They drove for about twenty minutes before Lance parked them in front of the venue. Upon looking at the sign, with its image of an angry lumberjack with a pair of crossed axes underneath him and some silhouettes of pine trees in the background, Paula creased her brow dubiously. “I don’t know if this is really my thing,” she said as they got out of the car.
“Don’t knock it till you try it,” Lance said. “Especially tonight.”
Paula was getting really suspicious now. “Seriously, what’s so special about this?”
“Just come on, you’ll see,” Lance said, wearing a smile worthy of a toothpaste commercial. He extended a hand for her to hold, and after a moment of indecision, Paula took it and let him lead her in.
As they stepped inside, a bearded man behind the desk looked up, and immediately brightened on seeing who had come in. “Hey, Lance, there you are!”
“Hey, Clyde,” Lance waved to him. “You got my reservation ready?”
“Number 8, just the way you asked.” The man then turned a look at Paula that she couldn’t quite interpret.
“Come on,” Lance said, tugging on Paula’s hand.
They entered the main thoroughfare, where a few other people were standing in front of enclosed booths, tossing axes at bullseye targets on wooden boards. Some of the axes were embedding themselves in the targets, while others would clatter against the boards and fall to the floor, producing groans of disappointment. A couple of times Paula flinched back as she saw someone drawing an axe back for a throw.
“This seems a little violent,” she said.
“I think you’ll appreciate that in a second,” Lance said cryptically. He looked ahead, and nodded to one booth with a number 8 above it. “There it is, that one’s ours.” He looked at Paula with his proudest grin yet, like that of a parent who knew their kid was about to open the best Christmas present they’d ever gotten. “Go on, take a look.”
Paula was still suspicious, but her curiosity was officially piqued. Unable to resist, she stepped past Lance toward the booth—and her mouth dropped open. She barked out a delirious laugh of surprise. “Oh my god, you didn’t!”
Plastered over the wooden bullseye, covering it from top to bottom, was a big cutout paper photo of Justin’s face, wearing one of his most punchable smirks.
“One of the perks of being on the yearbook staff,” Lance said, stepping up beside Paula and pulling one of the axes from the caddy next to them, “it’s easy to get pictures of everyone in school.” He gave the axe he was holding a little twirl. “I figure, twenty points if you get him in the mouth or forehead or cheeks, fifty points if you get him in the eye or nose, and a hundred if you get him,” and he pressed a finger dead center on the bridge of his nose, “right about here.”
Paula burst into hysterical laughter. “You are a nut!”
“Sometimes,” Lance agreed. He held out the axe to her. “You gonna stand there laughing all night?”
Just as Paula was accepting the axe from him, another customer walked past them, taking a look at the picture of Justin and saying, “That dude looks like giant douche.”
Paula and Lance paused, looking at each other, and as one they snorted out a laugh. “Did you arrange for that guy to say that?” Paula asked, not putting much of anything past Lance at this point.
“Swear to God, hand to bible, never seen him before in my life,” he insisted.
Paula turned to the target with Justin’s insufferable face plastered over it. True, having to look at him again wasn’t exactly inspiring romance, but she couldn’t deny the prospect of throwing a sharp object at his image was really appealing. She didn’t even have to think about his most recent and worst transgression against her. Even just thinking back to her brief relationship with him was enough, when she used to catch him brazenly flirting with the skanks at his pool parties right after he’d been proclaiming devotion to her not five minutes before. She recalled the times he’d reassured her that he was regularly screened and safe to sleep with, as if he thought he was doing her some kind of favor by allowing her that honor, and didn’t realize what needing to get tested that often implied. She recalled the way he’d continued to pursue her afterward, as if he didn’t obviously have enough fawning bitches to satisfy him and just had to have her as a prize.
Oh, she was going to enjoy this!
She gripped the axe, brought it up to align with her eye and aim at Justin’s smirking face. And with a final recollection of looking at his face at the party, in the moments before everything had gone hazy for her, she drew her arm back and let fly.
To her dismay, the axe clattered against the board and dropped to the floor.
“Oh, come on!” Lance moaned. “You gotta be more pissed at him than that!”
“Hey, believe me, my lack of piss for him is not the issue here!” Paula defended herself. “But why don’t you show me how it’s done, mister big expert?”
“Well, since the lady asked,” he shrugged, and drew another axe from the caddy. “If you’ll take a step back, please.” He took his position on the line, and took careful aim. He didn’t draw back very far, only making a small throwing motion with his lower arm and wrist, but the axe cleanly embedded itself a little below Justin’s left eye.
“Aw, you couldn’t have gotten him just a little higher?” Paula said in a mock pout.
“Didn’t want to steal your thunder.”
“Okay then, step aside.” This time Paula didn’t wait for Lance to hand her an axe, but drew one herself. She tried to emulate the move she’d seen Lance do, making a smaller arm motion than she had before. It felt a bit counterintuitive, as looking into Justin’s smirking countenance inspired a strong desire to hurl something as hard as she could. But she restrained herself when she let fly. The time her axe embedded itself in Justin’s chin a little to the left. She’d been aiming higher, but that was progress.
“Well, it stayed in this time, that’s good,” Lance nodded. “But I know you can really show him what’s what.”
Lance got one to the right of Justin’s nose on his next throw. Then Paula managed to get one in the corner of his mouth, and Lance got one in his eyebrow. They spent the next several minutes throwing more axes, getting more of them in Justin’s mouth, cheeks, and at one point Lance got one right in his eye. “Oh, he’s gonna feel that one in the morning!” he joked.
Paula finally admitted out loud what she’d been thinking for a while: “I feel like I’m holding myself back trying to aim these right. Can’t I just really hurl one at him?”
“Maybe you can try a two-handed throw,” Lance said. He handed her another axe, and directed her hands to grip it, placing his own over hers. “Like this,” he said, “your right hand up here. Now draw it back, over your head,” he continued, guiding her through the motion. “Okay, now give me a second to step back, and let him have it!”
Paula stared right at the axe-riddled image of Justin, narrowed her vision into a red tunnel, and with a rush of adrenaline she brought her arms down, chucking the axe hard. The blade embedded itself with a THUNK right between Justin’s eyes, exactly where the bullseye was.
She hadn’t even realized people were watching them until she heard the cheers start. She turned around to see the other customers who’d paused their own games to watch her throwing axes at Justin, who were now cheering and applauding her. Lance, meanwhile, stood beaming at her with a proud smile. “Feel good now?”
In response, Paula stepped up to Lance, threw her arms around his neck and drew him into a ferocious kiss. The spectators around them started cheering again, in a totally different way this time.
“That answer your question?” Paula asked once she broke it off.
Their next destination was a cafe/sandwich shop that Paula hadn’t heard of before. Which surprised her, as she had thought she knew all the popular hangout spots in town. But as soon as they entered, she saw that it was not in fact a place that was meant to be popular with people in her age group. Most of the patrons she saw here were either college art snobs in lounge chairs or mom-and-dad-aged couples seated around the little round tables.
The thing that drew one’s attention the most, however, was the 60-something man with a beard and a fishing hat who stood on a little stage in the corner, playing some unknown song on an acoustic guitar and singing in a voice that sounded a little too sad for the upbeat tune he was playing. He even had a harmonica on a stand that he would occasionally blow into at certain points in his song.
“What is this place?” Paula asked.
“This is one of my favorite spots to chill and have an easy bite,” Lance said. “Free entertainment, too.”
Paula looked at the singing man with a skeptical eye. “I don’t think I’m gonna be getting this guy on iTunes any time soon.” Then, worried she was sounding a little bitchier than she would have liked, she amended, “Don’t get me wrong, he’s okay...”
To her relief, Lance only chuckled. “Yeah, some of the people who play here are acquired tastes. Come on, let’s get a table.”
He took her up the spiral staircase to one of the small tables on the upper level, situated near the rail where they could look out over the performers below. Lance ordered a chicken sandwich, while Paula went with a salad and pasta bowl. As the waiter took their orders to the kitchen, the singing man was just finishing his set and receiving some subdued applause from the small crowd below them. He bowed gracefully and collected his instruments as he stepped down.
The moment the next performer stepped onto the stage, Lance broke into a smile. “Oh, perfect!” he beamed. “Janae’s playing tonight!” The person stepping onto the stage now was black woman in her twenties, wearing a simple orange tank top and carrying a guitar that looked just a little too big for her. She set up a folding chair on the stage and took a seat, bringing the microphone down to the level she was sitting.
“I can see why you like her,” Paula said wryly, observing that the girl about to play was quite a looker.
Lance lifted one eye to Paula. “Was that a bite of the jealousy bug I just heard?”
“You gonna tell me you didn’t notice she’s hot?”
“That’s not her fault,” Lance said. Paula didn’t know what she’d been expecting him to say, but it wasn’t that.
The woman on stage strummed her guitar and began to sing. The moment Paula heard her voice, her earlier disdain immediately vanished. That girl’s voice was beautiful! She was passionately pouring out a mesmerizing harmony into those touching lyrics about finding her path in life and the unnamed person she wanted to travel it with. Where the man before had only managed to attract the attention of about half the patrons in the joint—and some of those had been making slightly unflattering commentary about him under their breath—this girl had everyone in the house stopping to watch her performance. Even some of the servers had paused on the way to customers’ tables with trays of food still in their hands.
“Janae could totally go pro if she wanted to,” Lance explained, still watching the singer. “She could probably make it as the next Whitney Houston or something. But she’s happy just singing here for a small crowd, the people in her neighborhood.” Then he turned to look at Paula as he continued, “You know, she’s only 25, but if you want to know my theory, she’s a soul that’s been reincarnated about a dozen times, and has been walking this Earth in some form or another since at least the Renaissance. I never know when she’s gonna show up to sing, but it’s always one of the best nights when she does.”
“You never thought to talk to her and ask?” Paula said.
“Hell no,” Lance shook his head with a chuckle. “That would totally kill the mystery!”
Paula studied Lance for a long moment. She had totally misjudged him a minute ago: his appreciation of this girl wasn’t based on her looks. Nor even just her singing voice, which as she was reminded when she stopped to listen again, would have been enough on its own. He saw a beauty in her that was much deeper than all that.
“So this is what you do, when you’re not snapping surprise photos of people?” Paula asked. “You come here and listen to amateur performers and speculate about their spiritual existence?”
There was just the slightest hint of disapproval in the look that Lance turned to her at that comment. “Amateur?” was all he said.
He was right, of course. The word felt like an insult to the woman who was pouring her heart and soul into performing for the humble little crowd around her. “Well ... you know what I mean,” she deflected.
Lance’s look softened. “Yeah, I know what you mean. And yeah, I guess that’s what I do. I could shell out money to go to a Taylor Swift concert if I wanted to, just like the rest of the crowd. But I’ve always felt closer to the little guys like these. The ones who don’t make millions of dollars or go on TV interviews with Jimmy Fallon, but they do this just because they love it, and they’re just looking for a little bit of notice. Or maybe they just want to make someone else’s day a little brighter.”
Paula’s opinion of Lance had already been pretty top tier, but the swell of affection that she felt for him in that moment took her by surprise.
“Oh, hey look! Food!” Lance suddenly said. Paula turned her head and was surprised to find their steaming dinner plates sitting in front of them. She hadn’t even noticed the waiter setting them down, engrossed as she’d been in the singer below.
The performers who followed as they ate were a mixed bag. There was a middle-aged woman who sang a slow medley accompanied by a man in a painter’s beret playing the bongos. Paula thought they were okay, but nothing exciting. There was a young guy in a baggy “The Smiths” shirt who came on with a keyboard, playing a tune that might have been fun had the electronic sound not been a bit piercing on the ears. There was a couple who came on and sang a spritely duet that was a bit too bubbly for Paula’s taste, but she couldn’t deny they were clearly having the time of their lives singing it.
None of them captured the house quite like Janae had, but Paula understood where Lance was coming from. Every one of the people up there was getting up and performing for no other reason than that they wanted to. And coming here to listen to them perform over a sandwich or a cup of coffee was as much about supporting them as it was about getting a free show.
When their meal was finished, Lance plopped his crumpled napkin on the table and asked, “So, I picked the first two stops tonight, anyplace you want to go?”
Paula blinked in surprise. “Really? You want me to pick a place?”
“Sure, why not?”
“All the dates I’ve had before, the guys had the whole evening planned and decided everything themselves!”
Lance smirked at this. “No wonder you dumped them. Go on, hit me with an idea.”
Paula thought about it for a minute, and remembered a vista that one guy she’d dated sophomore year had taken her to. He’d been a lousy kisser, but he’d known where to go for a good view. “I think I know a place,” she said.