Chapter 2: Back at college

Back on campus, I’d parked my car up, gotten back to my dorm room and slept much of the day; I got up late afternoon to go find something to eat. The place was empty; pretty much everyone else was away on Spring Break. Just a few losers like myself who had no place to go and no-one to go with. Even my socially-challenged roomie had gone home to New York for the week, so I was at least on my own. I would have laid down some hefty bucks that he hadn’t blundered into the kind of surprise that I’d received...

I thought some more about my problem. Actually, it was all I could think about. My mind was going round and round in circles, so I tried to use my newly book-learned techniques to analyze the issues logically.

Just twenty-four hours earlier, I’d been dumb but happy as far as my parents and sister were concerned.

Now the world I’d grown up in had been turned upside down, overnight.

Some things were no-brainers. I just HAD to find out more about these parties, and to do that, I needed to take up that ‘invitation’ to gate-crash the next party on 4/6. My first thought, that I’d be back, had been the correct one. It’s surprising how often your gut instinct matches the considered preferred choice.

To succeed in attending that event suggested two essential preparations – getting myself tested and certified as required, and keeping my physical features hidden.

I should probably obtain my own mask, so I could be wearing it when I entered the house. That, changing my voice, and going clean shaven, would greatly reduce the risk of being recognized by Mom, Dad or Laura.

The other things around Sis and Jessie – well, I’d have to think about them. It was very easy to think of Jessie; a complete stranger had shared some of the very best love-making I’d ever been part of. I fell asleep dreaming of her, and that hellacious blowjob she’d given me.

I woke up round three in the morning with my mind racing again, over something real important that my conscious thought process had so far overlooked, but which had briefly popped up in my subconscious, and gone away again before I had grasped it. It was the key to deciding what it was that I’d accept as a satisfactory outcome, something as fundamental as the Big Bang. What the hell was it?

Okay, so twenty-four hours earlier I’d been reluctantly kissing Jessie goodbye, but it wasn’t that memory that was bugging me right now. You know when those faint touches of thought prove elusive? I just couldn’t stop searching my brain, and it took ‘til gone five before it came back, and then it hit me again. Oh shit, so fucking obvious!

Why was it that my sister Laura had been invited to the parties, but not me?

Was it because I had told my parents that I was in a relationship with Amy, or was it because they didn’t want me there at all?

My parents clearly didn’t want me to know about the parties, or they would have told me about them. But they had revealed the secret to my sister, and permitted her to take part. They’d even let her roomie, Jessie, sign up. I really liked Jessie, but she was an outsider, not my parents’ own flesh and blood. Why was she in on the secret and I wasn’t?

Did that mean I had been rejected, or found wanting, and excluded by my own family?

Jesus, that was profound. No wonder my subconscious had worried away at it all night.

I wrote down the question on the pad I kept by the bed, and went back to sleep for a couple of hours. Well, ‘sleep’ is probably an exaggeration, but I rested my eyes. My brain, not so much.

Sunday morning I worked on some online study assignments; my mind was elsewhere and I knew that I’d have to revisit my work when I was in a better mood. It did use up the time until I could take a break for lunch.

Residence dining was closed for the spring recess; I either had to go to the Union building, which was still serving food, or eat off-campus – I chose to order and collect a pizza, on the grounds that it would provide something palatable to eat cold later. It wouldn’t hurt to get out of my room for half an hour and talk to another human being, even if it was just to order some food.

Yeah, a deep pan pizza sure hit the spot. True comfort food. Not quite like the chicken soup they call ‘Jewish Penicillin’, but immensely satisfying.

I finished my soda, picked up my Iphone, and was just about to call Laura to see what information I could get out of her, when I saw a potential ballbuster of a problem with talking to her right now. Jeez! What if she suggested I come home for the remaining days of Spring Break, and Jessie was staying with her? I’d be straight in the shit. Jessie would recognize me, and my presence at the party would be revealed before I had made up my mind what to do. No, I couldn’t afford for that to happen.

I put down my phone and decided to delay my call ‘til the next week, when she’d certainly be back at college.

I did call Mom, though. If she invited me home, I could ask if Laura was there, and if necessary plead a backlog of assignments that meant I couldn’t spare the time. If Sis was not staying on at home for Spring Break, then it might be worth seeing if Mom would come clean with me. I shrugged my shoulders and dialed.

Now that was an interesting conversation.

For the first time ever, I had proof that my own mother was lying to me. When I asked how she’d been, she said that she had been out of town for a few days visiting clients and hadn’t gotten home until that morning. Now that was plain untrue, but I couldn’t call her on it without letting on how I knew. I pretended to commiserate with her at having to travel, and that I knew just how much she hated being away from Dad. Her response was what I’d call inconclusive – she didn’t shrug off the travel as just something she had to do occasionally. Perhaps because it hadn’t actually happened, she had no great feeling about it?

Then I told her that my Florida trip had been cancelled, explained that Amy was no longer part of my life, and that I was using the time to get ahead on my studies.

I noticed that I did NOT get invited home for a couple of days, just a bit of sympathy for the break-up and praise for working hard. No mention of Sis, no mention of a dinner party.

Shit.

It sure looked like I was being excluded.

Mom must have detected the change in my tone and asked if I was okay; I made up some excuse about pressure of study assignments, and we hung up. I didn’t end the call with the usual ‘I love you, Mom’ – I didn’t believe she deserved it.

I threw myself onto my bed and thought.

My not knowing about the parties wasn’t just an unfortunate oversight, it was deliberate. After talking with Mom, and her lying to me, there was no other possible valid conclusion.

Could I live with that situation?

No. In fact, hell no. Now I knew about the lying, it was poisoning the whole basis of my relationship to my family. If a friend lied to me like that, they would no longer be my friend. End of. Just like Amy. No way back.

Family? There might be scope for forgiveness, there might not.

Next, could I sit quietly here in my dorm room on 4/6, knowing there was a party on at home?

No. I’d go crazy. There’s no way on God’s little green earth that I could stay away, so that confirmed my gut instinct that I’d be gatecrashing the next party too. It wasn’t at all likely that I’d suddenly receive a copperplate invitation card requesting the honor and pleasure of my company.

I reconsidered my plans and decided to stop shaving, just in case something unexpected developed in the next three weeks and I perhaps ended up being home when Jessie was there – I had to play it real cool and keep my two identities separate, and Jessie had only seen me without facial hair. I could shave a beard off at short notice, but I couldn’t grow one in just a couple of days. My folks presumably thought that I was still bearded, as I had been when I’d been home for Thanksgiving and New Year; they hadn’t knowingly seen me since I’d shaved it off. Only Jessie had.

I thought about Jessie again. Even if we had met up at a sex party where we’d both enjoyed half a dozen different sexual partners, she seemed a real nice kid, one who you could take home to meet your Mom – except for the fact that my sister had beaten me to it. A crying shame, that. I knew that I wanted to see her again; I admitted to myself that the chance of being with Jessie again was much of my motivation for going to the next party. The normal rules about a girl who let you fuck her on the first date probably not being a keeper might not apply to swinging parties.

Yeah, to be truthful, the chance of emptying my balls again was another good reason for wanting to go to that party. The two hot older women I’d gone with last time had been great in bed, and even if I missed out on Jessie, I’d surely get myself laid in ways that would exceed all my previous expectations.

I spent the evening surfing the Web researching etiquette for swingers’ parties so I wouldn’t get caught out there. Jeez, there were more ‘don’ts’ than at a Junior High Cotillion full of chaperones! And then the real kicker in the ‘nads – I found a swinging site with the motto “Trust and Honesty and Openness“. No, I’m not kidding you. Fuck, that almost made me puke. My parents can’t have been subscribers to that website!

The days dragged that week of Spring Recess, but I got a lot of studying done. I needed to lose myself in college work; my personal thoughts were too raw and bitter and toxic to want to have them for very long at a time.

For a mad moment, I thought about driving down to stay with Gran and Gramps for a couple of nights; I knew they’d be pleased that I’d taken the trouble to go see them. But how could I answer any questions? Did I really want to blurt out something like “Your daughter hosts monthly sex parties and your cute little grand-daughter takes on all comers?” Yeah, that was a real non-starter of an idea. I couldn’t even face calling them to see how they were keeping.

Having to leave the residence to eat was a real bummer, but I reckoned I didn’t have a choice. I didn’t dare go or call home; my best guess was that Laura and Jessie were probably spending much of their Spring Break there, and I still had no idea how I’d handle that meeting. My ‘beard’ was still just unshaven stubble; it certainly wasn’t yet a disguise. Like I said, it was a loooooooooong week.

My roomie got back Sunday night. He’d had a great time at home; I lied and said that I had also.

Monday night, 3/19, I pulled together my courage and called Laura. I had decided not to call her a moment before then; I knew that if I did, I’d be desperately listening for clues that she was still at home. It’s a sad world when you wish you’d got GIS tracking on your sister’s smartphone!

It took some effort for me to adopt a cheery tone as if nothing was wrong. I had practiced it out loud several times before I tapped the screen to dial her number. She picked up immediately.

“Hi, Mike, long time no hear!”

“Hi, Sis, how’s it hanging?”

She did sound pleased to hear from me; that was an encouraging sign. I assumed that it meant that she had no suspicion whatsoever that I knew about the parties, nor that I had fucked her. We swapped a few general remarks about impossible college workloads, and then I told her to mark me in her Rolodex as now ‘NOT in a relationship’. She giggled.

“I’m not a Rolodex girl! I can do this computer technology, you know. Anyway, that’s a real bummer, Bro! What happened? Who dumped who?”

I didn’t go into details. I just told her that Amy had totally blown it and there was no way we’d be getting back together.

“Have you found a replacement?”

“No, not yet. Not that I’m looking. Anyway, how’s your love life?”

“Much like yours, Mike. Nothing to write in my diary these days.”

“It’s a shame you aren’t closer, Sis, I’ll do you a booty call anytime!”

“In your dreams, buster!”

“Don’t ask, don’t get!”

“Typical man! You ignore my very existence for months ‘cos you’re tied up with some tramp, and then the moment you stop getting laid, you call me up and ask about being friends with benefits. No way, Jose!”

I could almost hear the smile on her face.

“You’re my older sister! You’re supposed to be my matchmaker. You know, find suitable girls for me to look over.”

She laughed again.

“I think the technical term you’re looking for is ‘pimp’, little brother. You’re not thinking of marriage, are you? Say, I know. How about my roomie? You’d like her. She’s pretty awesome.”

“How soon can she be here? I’ll even change the sheets!”

“Yuck! No, darling brother, you are so NOT going to even make out with my roomie. I really like her and I don’t want her mauled and besmirched by you.”

(Yes, I thought. You sure do like your roomie, Sis! More than you could possibly suspect I know.)

“Oh well, if I’m not good enough for your roomie...”

She made no reply to that comment, just changed the subject and asked if I’d heard from Gran and Gramps lately. I said that I hadn’t, and that I’d give them a call real soon. We’re both fond of our grandparents, and they like to hear how we’re getting on. We visited some more. I asked after the folks.

That was when our conversation went down hill.

Laura flat out lied to me and said that she hadn’t seen them for a month or so, and wasn’t at all sure when she’d next be home.

(I thought: I’m pretty certain that you’ve been there for Spring Break, and I bet you’ll be home again on 4/6, Sis, according to my crystal ball, but don’t let that bother you.)

That lie kind of riled me. Actually, it pissed me off a lot.

“You didn’t go home for Spring Break?”

“No, I stayed right here on my lonesome ownsome, getting caught up with my reading list.”

I knew that was SO untrue. Shit! I could feel my face getting hot. I cut the conversation short, almost to the point of rudeness, promised to talk again soon, and hung up.

Jeez! How secret were these freakin’ parties? It was straight perjury one; my questions hadn’t even gotten the courtesy of a white lie, like “I was home last weekend and they had a dinner party on.” Actually, it was worse than denial, it was actively saying something that wasn’t so, when there was no need to go into that level of detail.

I threw myself on my bed.

I was now even more confused about my sister. She’d just outright lied to me. Twice. In my book, that meant she had sided with the enemy in excluding me, but I couldn’t yet damn her for eternity, because I wasn’t sure of the facts. Maybe she was conflicted, or under some kind of coercion. Perhaps she had fought my corner, but been outvoted, and being the loyal daughter she was, agreed to keep Mom and Dad’s secret?

Fuck! That was something else I hadn’t properly considered. If she was attending these sex parties, then Dad must have seen his baby getting fucked by some guy – how the heck did that work out? Okay, I’d been excited as well as freaked out, having come across Mom enthusiastically riding a cock, but Dad seeing and hearing his little princess howling as her cunt was plundered? How would that work out?

Oh shit! Another thought. Had Laura been fucked by Dad? I didn’t know.

I’d screwed Laura by pure chance and without realizing who she was; her cunt had been offered up in front of me, and I’d just jammed my dick straight in without a word of introduction. How had Dad avoided doing something like that?

Fuck! Yet another thought. Had Dad fucked Jessie during one of the five parties she said she’d attended? Almost certainly. She was a real pretty girl; he’d have been a fool not to nail her. That rankled a bit. Okay, Jessie owed me nothing, but I’d have been happier if my Dad hadn’t screwed her before I ever met her.

Would I fuck Mom if she came onto me? I’d surely be able to tell it was her, even if she didn’t recognize me. Jeez, I didn’t know that either. Yeah, she was a fox, but could I keep up my pretense of being a stranger while I was fondling her body? Doubtful, real doubtful. That’s why I’d steered well clear. Man, I didn’t even trust myself to go with Mrs Van Allen without giving myself away.

Shit! It was all so darned difficult. My thoughts were all over the frigging place.

And, if I did go to the next party, how could I avoid Dad identifying me if he tried to talk to me? Again, not looking good; I’d have to keep well clear of him again. That hadn’t been too difficult, so with luck I could do it again.

I was well pissed with Laura, but, perversely I still hoped I’d get to fuck her again at the next party, without revealing my identity.

I admit it. When I jacked off in the shower a half hour later, the pictures in my mind were of my sister – her pussy after I had dumped my seed in her, the moans of pleasure as she and Jessie played with the double-ended dildo, the feeling as I’d spooged over her tits and belly just before I’d recognized her voice, and of course that last session on the Sybian when I had known it was her. Her voice on the phone had reminded me of all that, and brought the mental images back to life.

That night, despite having relieved my physical tensions, I didn’t sleep well. The black thoughts were back with me, big time. There was a campaign to be planned.

I was pissed with my family for keeping their secret from me, and although it wasn’t scorched-earth type revenge I was after, I wanted – no, make that I needed, to prove to them that I wasn’t as dopey as they clearly thought I was.

That was going to be anything other than straightforward. None of my business lectures and books had covered how to deal with a situation like this!

I did come to one new decision overnight, though.