Chapter 1

“Mom, I don’t need a babysitter, for the last time!” I assured my mother, now that I was eighteen and freshly graduated from high school.

“She’s not here for you, silly boy. She’s here to babysit your baby sister. You know, Tricia, your baby sister, all of fourteen and freckles, strawberry blonde hair, bratty, still developing breasts, hips, and curves? Remember her? I would ask you to do it, but this is a professional and Tricia knows and trusts her. Besides, you have a long, ongoing sibling rivalry with your kid sister and I don’t want you abusing some limited and temporary authority to bully her. I wouldn’t put it past you. Besides, that’s a sudden leap from being just the big brother to being the boss. I’m not sure she would respect that,” Mom reassured me.

“So, if I want to just go somewhere, there’s really no reason not to do so. It’s Lola again, isn’t it? The same Lola who’s been babysitting both of us for two years now! Am I right? Also, what’s wrong in trusting your son with authority? Do you really think me that immature? You’re not still thinking that sexist crap that boys are less mature than girls, are you?” I needled Mom, knowing that was exactly what she thought, but wanting to frame the question to make her look bad for such beliefs.

“I do think, as it happens, and I don’t think that it’s so sexist. Naturally, I don’t expect a boy to agree with me, not even my son. For what it’s worth, I do believe that boys catch up to girls, or at least the ones who go through the school of hard knocks do. Anyway, I don’t feel like arguing this matter over. I know that you think that you’re very mature, and compared to a lot of boys your age, I suppose that you are. Even so, I trust Lola with Tricia, just as I did with you.

“Actually, I’d prefer that you didn’t go anywhere, if only because another set of eyes wouldn’t hurt. There are things that Lola could use help with at times, and even though I don’t want to put you in that position, some accountability doesn’t sound so bad. I trusted your father, after all, and look where that got me. Yes, before you ask, I admit that some of my mistrust of men and boys comes from that, but not all of it and I don’t think that you’re untrustworthy in general. Just not as much as Lola when it comes to her paid profession. She’s trained and experienced, that’s all,” Mom tried to mollify me a bit as she waited for Lola to arrive, so she could depart.

I didn’t think that there was any further point in arguing with Mom about Lola, despite my discomfort at how much of a cock-tease the babysitter tended to be. For whatever reason, twenty-year old Lola, just two years my senior and not even old enough to drink in this state, had chosen to make it a point to get me hard and enjoy my suffering for whatever reason she thought amusing. She did everything but wave a huge sign that says, “I know that you’re horny and I want to make it worse for you.” That Mom was blind to it was largely due to the “can do no wrong” mentality that she had about girls vs. boys (or seemed to have, at any rate).

What was worse, very recently, Tricia chose to make fun of me for it, not to mention emulate Lola and tease me herself. Ever since her fourteenth birthday, or shortly afterward, Tricia had taken that page out of the babysitter’s book and turn cock-tease as well. I certainly wasn’t going to tell Mom about that, since it would mean admitting to finding my own sister sexually attractive, after all. That would somehow turn into a lecture as well. As much as I loved Mom in my own way, she was not very open-minded about some things, at least not when society wasn’t. She was far too much of a follower of society’s rules and taboos in my book, not given to critically thinking or examining things for herself very much.

I didn’t doubt that this helped break up my parents’ marriage, as did Dad’s recent discovery of fondness for tennis instructors ... male ones. Hans was an Austrian tennis teacher at the country club that Dad frequented and, well, they hit it off in ways that Mom never could understand. To say that she initiated the divorce over his marital infidelity was to put it mildly, and she even dumped Dad’s clothes on the lawn. She didn’t burn it, though, as I put a stop to that nonsense and warned Dad in time to salvage his stuff. Mom was miffed at me for a week or two, but mostly got over it, even as she made a point to fight Dad tooth and nail on custody. She said that it in my case it was to keep me from ending up “feckless and reckless, unwilling to step up as a man.”

Things settled down eventually, even as Hans dumped Dad for another guy and Dad moved on to ... you guessed it, to another male tennis instructor, this one named Robin (no joke!). Dad went through a series of butt boys afterward while exploring his sexuality, which convinced Mom that he was just gay and perhaps she should ease up on the guy. I got the impression that Dad was a serial monogamist, just like Mom, which wasn’t my cup of tea, but I still believed that he was bi, not gay. He just wanted to expand his horizons and learn more about himself.

Right as I thought about all of this, Lola finally arrived and Mom departed for her latest date with her latest boyfriend, a bit of a panty-waste known as Eddie. I nicknamed him “Keen Eddie,” often in front of Mom, much to her annoyance, and alluded often to how he must have blue balls after three consecutive dates and obviously no sex. Mom thought that attitude was immature, which didn’t help her impression of me, but I had to feel at least some empathy for the guy, even if he was a wimp who followed her around like a pathetic puppy. It was clear that Mom would ration the physical intimacy until she thought that she had the poor schmuck under her thumb. She hadn’t learned anything from her failed marriage, it was clear to me. She was still a controlling prude.

“Try not to scare this one off,” Mom said aloud as she left, to no one in particular, making me wonder if she spoke to me, to Lola, or to herself about Keen Eddie (any of those were plausible).

“Oh, don’t worry. I don’t think that he scares that easily,” Lola laughed in a parting shot to Mom, who didn’t reply as she got into the waiting car for her date.

“Excuse me while I make myself scarce. You two girls have fun!” I waved goodbye to Lola before walking toward my bedroom to hibernate like the bear that I sometimes could be (much to Mom’s mixed annoyance and relief at times).

“Not so fast, Mister. I’m ordering some delivery and I would like to hear your preferences, as I’m buying for you, too, if you don’t mind,” Lola found a handy excuse to keep me around, presumably so that she could tease me.

Being a typically hungry teenage lad, whatever else was different about me, I was caught on the bait for sure. Lola had my number, but then she knew me well enough by now, being a neighbor. She knew that her playful brown eyes, plump body, curves, swarthy, earthy skin, long, jet-black hair, and delectable bottom all held a strong appeal to the young man with the active hormones. She knew that I despised Mom’s attitude about boys and men, even though I very much loved Mom herself. She had even laughed, instead of snitching, one time when I ranted that if Mom had that much of a problem with men, perhaps she just date women! In fact, if she wasn’t such a cock-tease, Lola would be a real sight for sore eyes, with her Desi good looks and her fantastic sense of humor.

“Surprise me,” I teased her, daring Tricia to contradict me.

“Me, too. Surprise me. I can’t be less brave than my big brother, can I?” Tricia winked at me before yanking my shorts down.

“Patricia Anne Vandekamp! How dare you pants your big brother like that!” Lola shouted, but she then winked at both of us, “though I can see why you’d want a side of sausage with your supper. That’s limp and it’s that fucking big!”

“And he’s only eighteen, too!” Tricia licked her lips, clearly determined to join Lola in her cock-teasing ways, “just don’t tell Mom, okay? You know how she is! Such a fucking prude!”

“As much as I love Mom, that’s the Gospel truth there!” I agreed quickly with Tricia in spite of my annoyance with her, “still doesn’t excuse yanking down my shorts, sis.”

“Yes, unfortunately, that’s true. I know plenty of aunties like that and Mum’s the same way, sad to say. When you grow up in a very strict family, it’s to be expected. Not all Hindus are like that, but Mum, Dad, the aunties, the uncles, they’re very pious and old-fashioned, still mad at me for not getting married yet and eager to marry me off. So, you see, as long as I have this job, I can push that off a while longer. Buy time. Trust me, I can relate, guys.

“Don’t get me wrong. Jessica Vandekamp can be very nice in her own way, especially giving me this job and opportunity, so I hope that we can understand the need not to go blabbing on each other to her. She just wouldn’t understand. She’s a good woman, just very worried about how people think of her. Like the women from Witches of Eastwick, except that she never betrayed and dumped a great guy because of society’s disapproval ... oh, wait, I guess that she did.

“So, anyway, since you’re leaving it up to me and trusting me with the culinary choices, I opt for Indian. No getting out of it this time. Yes, vegetarian curry for all of us! Plenty of pitas, too! You’ll love it, trust me! Who knows, maybe the taste of Indian will sit well with you and make you want to try ... to sample more Indian stuff, right?” Lola teased me rather brazenly, even yanking down my shorts the same way that Tricia just did.

“Lola, seriously?” I acted outraged, though part of me was excited and aroused by her playful action this time, which was at least different.

“Yes, seriously, Martin Van Buren Vandekamp! Such a real Dutch, Knickerbocker name, you know. I love it! I know that your mother regrets the name and resents your father for insisting on it, but I love it, wooden shoe boy! Named after the eighth President, too! There’s worse names, trust me. My nephew got named Chai, like the fucking tea! No joke! Anyway, too late. You put the decision in my hands about supper, so you’re getting vegetarian curry! No getting out of it this time!” Lola pretended that I objected to the dining selection instead of her pantsing me.

“That not what I meant and you know it, but, yes, I’m a man of my word. I’ll give the curry a fair shake. What about you, Trish?” I turned to my baby sister, but I needn’t have worried.

“Of course, but I still want a side of sausage!” Tricia laughed, raising her skirt just enough to show me the bottom of her panties.

“Um, that goes against the whole vegetarian idea, doesn’t it?” I teased Tricia, knowing that she meant something else.

“Not the kind of sausage that I have in mind,” Tricia licked her lips.

“Ooooh, nice! Good one, girlie!” Lola high-fived my sister as she dialed the numbers, making me feel outnumbered.

I rolled my eyes, thought nothing more of it, and got out my tablet to play some Netflix for a bit and ignore the Dynamic Duo, as I began to think of them. If I thought that I’d be left alone, though, it was not to be. Tricia rushed to her room, changed out of her school clothes, and came back out with boy shorts that accentuated her tight, but thickening booty far too well, getting a serious thumbs-up from Lola, no less!

“Hey, bro, see something that you like? Maybe two somethings?” Tricia taunted me, yanking my tablet out of my hand to take a look at my viewing choices, “oooh ... naughty, smutty stuff, huh? Movies about women together, lots of skin, dark comedy ... can’t blame you. That girl there, though, she doesn’t want it. That is obvious. I do. I want it! Bad! I’m not reluctant like her.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t see your boyfriend around here. What’s his name, Chad, Thad, Brad, something like that?” I teased Trish back, even as she planted herself on my lap.