The Bitch - Cover

The Bitch

Copyright© 2014 by Mister NiceGuy

Chapter 30: Meeting The Family - Round One

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 30: Meeting The Family - Round One - Boy meets girl. Girl is gorgeous. Boy is a nerd. Boy asks Girl out. Boy is rejected. Boy plots revenge. But when Boy gets the perfect chance to take revenge, he can't do it. And what she gives him in return is far more worthwhile than revenge would ever have been. This is the story of a blossoming relationship. It is the first installment in what will be a series of stories telling the story of John and Cheryl, their love for one another, and the ways in which their relationship impacts others.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Romantic   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   School   BDSM   MaleDom   Light Bond   Spanking   Group Sex   Anal Sex   Cream Pie   First   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Water Sports   Slow  

The alarm on my phone awakened me about an hour later. I was glad I had set it. I hadn’t planned on falling asleep - but I thought that there was a chance we’d get doing something and I’d lose track of the time. I reached for my phone to silence it, and that movement woke Cheryl. I leaned down to give her a kiss, and she turned her head.

“Babe?”

“Ugh. You don’t want to kiss me. Really. I have sperm breath.”

I laughed, took her face in my hands to hold her still, and kissed her. I even slipped my tongue between her lips for emphasis.

“As long as it’s my cock you’ve been sucking, I’ll always kiss you,” I told her, as I pulled my face back. “But you really should brush your teeth before we go meet the girls.”

She stuck her tongue out at me, and stretched, and we both stood up. We ran across the hall to the bathroom before we got dressed, and after we’d both peed, we both brushed our teeth. Cheryl even gargled with some mouthwash, just for good measure.

When we got back to my bedroom, I pulled on the clothes I’d been wearing. Cheryl flipped her suitcase up onto my bed, and after opening it, pulled out a fresh outfit. She slipped on a white bra and matching panties, then pulled on a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, followed by a green sweater. She gave her hair a quick brush, then turned to me.

“How’s this? Is it an ok look for meeting everyone? Do I need to do anything to my face?”

I shook my head.

“Nope. That’s perfect. You’re stunningly beautiful. You do know that, right? But dressed like that you just look ... I don’t know. Simple. In a good way.”

Cheryl smiled and gave me a kiss on the cheek. We went downstairs to the front door, pulled on our coats and shoes, and headed out the door. She paused on the verandah, and pulled me close, burying her head in my shoulder. I pulled back far enough that I could lift her head up and look into her eyes.

“John?” she said, tentatively. “I’m really nervous. I want them to like me, to like the girl you chose. And I’m scared they won’t.”

“They’ll love you,” I told her. “Really. Just be you.”

“Are you sure?”

I nodded. She pulled away, and took me by the hand.

“Then let’s go get your sisters.”

Hand in hand we walked the familiar route from my home to my high school, arriving a couple of minutes before the end of the schoolday. At 3:15 the bell rang, and students began to emerge. A few of them waved, and I noticed some people giving Cheryl more than a passing glance, which didn’t surprise me. I mean, I would check Cheryl out if I walked past her - and besides, no one - absolutely no one - in my hometown had ever seen me holding hands with a girl who wasn’t my little sister. But nobody came over to chat.

I was starting to worry that somehow the girls weren’t expecting me to be there, which was ridiculous - I was there every day if I was at home - when the front doors opened and the two of them came out together. That was unusual, and I guessed that they had planned this so that they’d both get to meet Cheryl at the same time. Julie almost always was out the door before Jamie, since Jamie often stayed to ask her teachers a question about something or other - something that Jamie was interested in, and wanted more information on. (Have I mentioned that she’s a genius? I think most of her teachers are totally scared of her.)

I could see that Julie wanted to run to us, but she stayed with Jamie. Side by side, they walked to where we were standing. They were quite a pair. Jamie, with her long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, her glasses somehow making her look even brainier than she really was. Julie, with her blonde hair cut short. Both of them in blue and white plaid school kilts, white knee socks (it wasn’t cold enough for tights yet, but soon would be), and black shoes, with coats covering up the white blouses and blue sweaters that I knew they would be wearing.

Julie pulled ahead when they were just a few steps from us, and gave me a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. Jamie followed suit. Then they pulled back.

“Julie, Jamie, this is my girlfriend, Cheryl. Cheryl, these are my sisters.”

Cheryl and Julie both looked nervous. Jamie, thank goodness, moved in and pulled Cheryl into a hug. She’d been suspicious of Cheryl when I’d first told the girls that we were dating, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her from being welcoming.

“It’s so great to meet you at last,” she said. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Julie took her cue from her older sister and stepped up to hug Cheryl once Jamie pulled back.

“I’m thrilled to meet you, too,” Julie said. “Johnny seems so happy now that he has you.”

Cheryl looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

“Johnny?” she asked.

I sighed.

“It’s always been Johnny. I only changed it when I moved away. You’re going to have to get used to it.”

Julie looked confused.

“Wait, you don’t call him Johnny? What do you call him?”

Cheryl laughed.

“John,” she replied. “I just call him John. But I like Johnny. It’s super cute!”

Then both girls took Cheryl by the hand and started off towards home. It took me a minute to realize that I was supposed to be following them. Jamie and Julie had Cheryl between them, in the place I usually occupied when we walked home together after school, and I wasn’t sure what to do. Jamie turned and saw me standing there, and giggled. She ran back and held out her hand to me, and we walked home like that, Julie and Cheryl in the lead, Jamie and I following. By the time we reached the house, my sisters knew that Cheryl was an only child, and Cheryl knew what each of my sisters liked best about high school. Luckily, no embarrassing stories about me had been told.

Jamie went up the porch steps first and unlocked the door, and as she did, Julie turned to me and said, “Hey, Johnny, Mom pulled out all the stops for tonight. She was up at like 5:00 this morning. She made lemon pie and everything.”

I licked my lips. My mom’s lemon pie was one of my favourite things in the world. She made it from scratch - lemons, eggs, milk, cornstarch, the whole nine yards.

“Yeah,” Jamie said. “You need to come home more often. We eat so much better when you’re here! Speaking of which, Jules, we’d better get changed and get going on the rest of dinner. Mom left her list.”

This, too, was a carryover from our childhood. As a single parent, Mom had to be really organized, or nothing would ever happen. So she’d do a bit of supper prep in the morning before she went to work, and leave a list for us - or, more accurately, for me - saying what was to be done to finish the meal off. That way, by the time she got home, supper was usually more or less under control.

The girls bounded up the stairs, and reappeared moments later, Jamie in jeans and a sweatshirt, Julie in track pants and a tank top. They headed for the kitchen, and Cheryl and I followed. Jamie held up her hand to stop us.

“Nope!” she said. “Mom gave us strict orders. We were supposed to finish off dinner and not let you two help.”

“Can we at least sit at the table and chat while you work, then?” I asked.

Jamie nodded, so Cheryl and I sat down at the table. I sat in the chair I always sat in, facing the kitchen, and Cheryl sat in Julie’s spot. Jamie checked the list, and pulled a pan of rolls out of the fridge, setting them on the counter to warm up and rise. The two girls worked together to empty the dishwasher so it was ready for the next round. Then Jamie began peeling potatoes, while Julie got out some carrots and parsnips and started to peel and chop them up.

As they worked, we chatted. Not about anything in particular. Mostly about school and sports and that kind of stuff. Cheryl checked her phone a couple of times, and sent a text or two.

“Everything ok? You look worried.”

“It’s Megan. She’s sounding really overwhelmed. She has a pile of stuff due next week, and she’s really behind. I wish I could do something to help her.”

I smiled. “We’ll see what we can do to be supportive next week,” I assured her.

Once the vegetables were on the stove, ready to be turned on when the time was right, my sisters set the table, setting two places on the side where I usually sat, and pulling an extra chair up. I noticed that they were using the good dishes, the ones that Mom only got out for birthdays and Thanksgiving and Christmas and Easter. Julie got out cloth napkins, and Jamie folded them into triangles and set one at each place setting. Damn. Mom really was going all out.

Just as Jamie and Julie were reading over Mom’s list to make sure everything was done, we heard her pull into the driveway. I checked my watch.

“Mom must have left work early today,” I noted.

Jamie nodded. “She said she was hoping to be able to take off as soon as the office was closed.”

Cheryl gave me a nervous glance, and I smiled at her reassuringly. We heard the front door open and close, and my Mom’s voice called out, “I’m home!”

Cheryl and I both stood up. Mom came into the diningroom, and I gave her a hug and a kiss, then pulled back.

“Mom, this is Cheryl. Cheryl, this is my mom.”

Mom held out her hand and Cheryl took it.

“I’m so glad to meet you, Ms McDonald.”

“Amanda. Call me Mandy. Ms McDonald makes me feel like I’m still at the school.”

Cheryl nodded. Mom ran her eyes up and down Cheryl, and then pulled her in for a hug.

“I’m glad to meet you, too,” my mother said, as they broke the embrace. “This is a big day for our family. Johnny’s never brought a girl home to meet us before.”

Cheryl blushed, though not as much as I did.

“Well, I’m glad to be his first. And if I can say so, I’m hoping to be his last, too.”

My mother stiffened just a bit at that, but didn’t say anything. I don’t think Cheryl noticed. Mom moved to the sink and washed and dried her hands, then asked Jamie and Julie how they’d done with the prep work. She turned the oven on preheat for the rolls, started the potatoes cooking, and handed Jamie a bottle of red wine.

“You could pour me a glass of that, please, Jamie. And one for your brother. Ask Cheryl if she’d like some, too.”

“Yes, please,” Cheryl said, as Jamie glanced her direction. My sister got out three glasses, poured, and handed one to Mom, then brought the other two over to Cheryl and I. I took a sip.

“Mmm, that’s nice wine, Mom.”

My mother nodded.

“I discovered it a few weeks ago and was waiting for a good reason to have another bottle. Tonight seemed to qualify. It should go nicely with the beef, too.”

Jamie looked at Mom, and as soon as her back was turned, she reached for my wineglass and took a mouthful. This had been going on for some time. Mom didn’t mind Jamie having something to drink occasionally at family dinners, but since Mom always offered me a drink if she was having something, Jamie had gotten into the habit of stealing a gulp now and then. Before she set my glass down in front of me, she mimed an air kiss. This was also part of her ritual. But then she looked up and saw Cheryl watching her, and she froze, blushing bright red. Julie had watched this all unfold, and burst into laughter, which of course made Mom turn around to see what was so funny. She took in the scene and knew immediately what was going on.

“Jamie, give your brother back his glass, please. You can have some wine with supper, if you want. But right now, if you don’t mind, I could use a hand. You too, Julie.”

Jamie glared at Julie, and they both headed to the kitchen.

“What can we do, Mom?” I wondered.

“Nothing at all. You guys relax. Dinner will be ready soon.”

This was not normal. Meal preparation was an all-hands-on-deck experience in my family. They always had been. It felt very strange to sit and watch Mom and the girls working. But I decided not to argue, or at least not to argue yet.

For the next little bit, in-depth conversation wasn’t possible. Mom talked about her day, and asked my sisters how school had been and what homework they had over the weekend, and asked me how my week had been. She lifted the roast out of the crockpot, poured the broth it had cooked in into a saucepan on the stove, and made gravy. She gave Jamie directions on the vegetables, and had Julie make a spinach salad with walnuts and strawberries in it. There were a lot of details to take care of, but she’d planned it all out, and in what seemed like no time at all the five of us were sitting around the table, with a feast spread out in front of us.

I have to give my mother credit. There were several questions that she was dying to ask, but she waited until we were almost done dinner before she started to ask them.

“So, Johnny, you told me when you were home at Thanksgiving that you’d reconnected with a girl that you’d met the year before, and that she was really special, but that’s all you said, and I didn’t want to ask too many questions until I had a chance to see how serious it was. But now that you’ve brought Cheryl home for the weekend, can I ask how you two met?”

I swallowed the mouthful of roast beef and gravy that was in my mouth, and washed it down with a drink of wine as I thought about my response. I’d known this was coming but hadn’t worked out exactly what to say when it came. I decided just to keep it brief.

“Cheryl was in my Canadian history course last fall. We sat beside each other.”

My mother smiled, and turned to Cheryl.

“Oh, so you’re a history major too? I didn’t realize that. Are you in your second year as well?”

Cheryl shook her head.

“No, I’m not an artsy - I’m a biznob. I mean, I’m a business student, not an arts student. And I’m in third year, not second.”

My mother looked confused.

“Then what were you doing in Johnny’s class last fall?” she wondered.

“We have to take an arts class to graduate. I decided to take a Canadian history course. I mean, how hard could it be? Right?” Cheryl chuckled, and shook her head. “Boy, was I wrong about that. I’d have totally flunked if John hadn’t taken pity on me and helped me out.”

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