Chapter 27: Cumming/Coming to a Head

Monday morning, I learn just how comfortable I have gotten in my new surroundings. In my 70 years, I had lived in enough violent places that, when I was woken up by anything other than my alarm clock, I was ready to fight. I remember one time when I was living with Brian and John. I fell asleep on the couch with a knife in my hand. For some reason, John decided he was going to wake me up. I had previously warned them, “If you are going to try to wake me, be sure to use a broom and stand as far away as possible.”

John didn’t heed my warning. I was stressed because I knew the Filipinos were after me. John leaned over and touched my shoulder. He was about to shake it, but he didn’t get a chance. My free hand reached up and pulled him in. My knife hand struck at his heart. Thankfully, I wake up right away, and I don’t run on autopilot for long. Any longer waking up and he would have been dead. As it was, I almost didn’t stop the knife in time. I had punctured his shirt and pricked his skin with the tip of the blade. His chest leaked a drop of blood when I pulled the knife back. When he took his shirt off to see the wound, it looked like a needle mark.

From the years living in questionable places, I trained myself to wake up as soon as somebody touched my doorknob. Brian and John made a game of it. When they walked by my bedroom door, they would touch the doorknob. I would wake up and yell at them, then go back to sleep. They were never able to do it without waking me.

Until now, I had never lived in a place where I felt safe enough to let my guard down. Not even when I was sleeping. This morning is different. I am dreaming of our realtor. I don’t know if it is a product of having a split-brain or some other anomaly, but when I dream, I often seriously think about real-world things.

In my dream, I am sitting at my desk, and the song Faith by George Michael is playing. In walks Sorrel. She spins my chair, so I am facing her, and she starts dancing to it. She ends up doing a lap dance/striptease. My head is so fucked up that I start thinking about the meeting we had. She is rubbing her tits in my face, and her hand is playing with my dick, through my shorts. I am thinking, ‘Oh shit, I haven’t gotten a hold of her since the military raided our meeting and absconded off with me. I need to phone her.’ The other side of my brain is enjoying the dream as she rubs her supple body all over me.

The side of me that is thinking about phoning Sorrel starts thinking, ‘Something isn’t right. I know it isn’t time to get up yet, but I feel like I should be awake.’ I don’t want to wake up and end the dream, but I know I have to wake up. I compromise and only halfway wake up so I can fall back asleep right away and hopefully, if it is a false alarm, continue the dream. The closer I get to waking up, the more real the dream seams. In the dream, she has stripped naked and is kneeling between my legs. Somehow, she is able to pull my shorts down without me lifting my ass off the seat. She starts giving me head. I can feel her tongue swirling over the head of my cock. I can feel my bed move, but in the dream, I’m in the chair.

I am only confused for a moment. I open my eyes, and the first thing I notice is my door open. I never sleep with my door open. The next thing I notice is my blankets don’t lay flat on the bed or me. Something is holding them up a couple feet. I can still feel Sorrel sucking my cock and the slobber trickling down onto my nut sack.

I rip my covers off, and there is Moira, naked from the waist up. She is looking up into my eyes and smiling around my cock. She pulls off it long enough to say, “Morning,” in a sultry yet cheerful voice.

I’m enjoying it too much to stop her, so I lay my head back down and enjoy the ride. For once, I let my mind go blank and bask in the sensations she gives me.

I have quite a buildup, so I don’t last long. Moira swallows as much as she can and licks up the rest. She rubs her chest along my body as she comes up to cuddle with me. I kiss her forehead and tell her, “That was the perfect way to wake up, but that is not why I gave you a key, naughty girl.”

I then wrap my arm around her and start teasing her one tit. I don’t head straight for the nipple. I want her to anticipate it. I slink down a bit and start kissing all around her other breast. Eventually, I give in and start nibbling on her nipple. I began lightly but continue to apply more pressure. I listen to her moaning, so I know what just the right amount of bite for her is.

I am lost in the moment when my alarm starts going off. Giving her nipple one last kiss, I get up and shut the alarm off.

“You better get dressed before somebody else sees you.”

While I am taking a shower, Moira is cooking me breakfast. I am heading to my room from the shower wearing only a towel when Kim and Carol ambush me. The girls start rubbing themselves up and down my body, one girl to a side. Almost in unison, the girls grab my arms and wrap them over their shoulders, bringing my hands directly to their chest.

Carol looks up, and I bend my head down to kiss her. When the kiss ends, she says, “We are jealous that Moira got to wake you up. We want to play too.”

“And I want you to, but I have to get dressed, or we will be late for school.”

I am surprised when it is Kim and not Carol that removes my towel. Carol’s eyes bug out. I think they both expect me to run, but I casually walk to my bedroom, leaving them behind to stare at my ass. Dahlia catches a glimpse of my ass as my door closes.

I am pulling some underwear out of my dresser when Dahlia barges in, complaining, “It isn’t fair how they all got to see you naked this morning. I was the first one you invited over. I should have been first.” She has a fake pout as she stares at my cock.

“You girls are incorrigible. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell all of you that we need to take it slow. You all want to rush ahead.”

“You are the one walking around naked while we are all here.”

I step into my underwear and pull them up, “That is because Kim stole my towel.”

“Ohhh, when do I get to steal your towel?”

“Get out of here so I can get dressed. We are going to be late.”

When we get to school, the boys are even colder than they were before. After 70 years of people treating me like that, I hardly notice. What I do notice is how the girls are affected by it, and it makes Kevin uncomfortable.

I have been home long enough that I should have taken care of a few things that happened while I was in custody and then in California. My last class of the day I spend in the library where I am supposed to be doing my university studies, but instead, I am thinking of all the things I need to rectify. The first, I missed my date with Kim. Almost as important is the fact that I missed Nisha’s article being published. I head to the public phone by the office and call her. I know she is in class and will not answer, so I leave a message at the front desk of her dorm for her to phone me. I include an apology.

After school, I am usually the first one to the bikes. I typically have the bikes unlocked and ready to go by the time everybody else comes out. The only time I don’t do this is Fridays since I am at the university.

On this day, I am not the only one that beat my crew outside. There is a small group of boys gathering. I assume Jered is their leader since he is the first to talk, and the other boys are behind him. Jered is a typical dumb jock. He is one of the stars of the school lacrosse team, but every time I have the displeasure of having to talk to him, I get the impression he got hit in the head with a lacrosse stick a few times too many.

Jered asks, “Who the hell do you think you are, traitor?”

“What do you want?”

“You are a fucking outsider that comes here, and you don’t take just one of the best girls in school, you take four. We should leave you bloodied behind the dumpster for one. For four, we should kill you. Then to top it all off, you’re a traitor.”

“You have the reasoning capacity of a pregnant yak in heat. Go home before you hurt yourself, trying to think.”

“What the fuck did you just call me?”

“Nice grasp of the language. I didn’t call you anything. I insinuated you don’t know how to think. Then again, you kind of proved it by asking what I called you.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“No, I’m just stating facts. There is no need to make fun of you since you are the joke.”

The moron takes a swing, trying to give me a black eye. I just lower my head. He connects with my forehead, one of the hardest parts of the human body, and breaks his fist. The sound of the bones in his hand breaking is clear enough for everybody to hear. His swearing is much louder. Mike, his best friend, takes him away.

“You people aren’t here because of the pathetic rumours about me being a traitor, hacking the military or some other silly shit. If I had done any of that, I would be in jail, and you know it. So, what is this about?”

Shane, one of the kids from the track team, says, “Why the hell did you steal four of our best girls. They are our girls. You have no right to any of them.”