Chapter 15: Maria

The family is back together, living in the California high rise condo that their father had bought with some of the money he made from selling their company.

Sandy

Several months had passed since mom and dad had gotten back together. She was still leery of remarrying him quite yet, so they (like Randy and I) had been ‘living in sin’ together. I thought it kinda funny. After mom and dad were back sleeping together, they had basically given up trying to keep Randy and me apart. We slept together nearly every night, almost like a newly married couple ourselves.

While mom and dad were ‘getting to know each other’ again, seeming to make out like minks, Randy and I would be snuggled together. Since we were still homeschooled, we didn’t have to get up at the crack of dawn to go to school. So Randy would wake up with a woody (giggle), and I’d feel him pushing up against me. I would act like I was too sleepy only to turn and pounce on him. I like being on top, and I think I got that from mom as she seemed to be the aggressor, too.

This morning, being typical, after Randy’s manhood had poked against my side as he tried to dry hump me, I rolled over on top of him, forcing him on his back. Since we’re pretty evenly matched size-wise, I held down his arms, straddling his hips, push my pelvis into his and lay my full weigh on him, my breasts pressing against his chest, and I kiss him. I love kissing him with sweet wet kisses. I felt his tongue come out, and I matched it. Touching tongues lightly together always feels so erotic.

This morning was a little different than usual, though. We had been frisky the night before and ended up sleeping naked together. Having his warm bare skin against mine made sleeping sexy. Being nude already, his woody was pinned against my mons and our bellies. He moaned a bit at the slight pain of his trapped dick, but I held him in place.

I start moving my hips and slowly slide up his chest until, with a boink, his dick is free and between my legs. Smiling as his eyes locked to mine, I slide back down to press his dick into my pussy. The touch of him pressing against me was always so lovely. He hears my breath deepen as I lift up to let his tip push into my slit. Our eyes stayed locked together. I can see his soul in his beautiful eyes. He moves his hips, trying to push into me, not wanting to wait. This time, I let him. With a set of undulations of my pelvis adjusting for his angle, he finds what he wants, and we push together as he slides into me. I am never tired of that first entrance. Our eyes defocus for a moment.

I reach down and kiss him and then lift myself up to pull his penis out of me, pause, then lower myself back on him. Our rhythm begins. He put his hands on me, one on my hip, the other, palm flat against my lower belly. His thumb into my belly button, and fingers press into my mons as I rise and fall on his shaft.

My hands go to his chest as I raise myself up, and I ride him like an arcade pony. Our undulations send me back to the first time my dad placed me on that plastic saddle and inserted the coin. Now I realize that its motion was so exciting to the little girl riding it because of it bringing out an almost genetic memory of sexual pleasure and procreation to come. I am that little girl riding my pony as I close my eyes, still in rhythmic motion on top of my lover.

Heating, we push back our covers, and I resume my ride. Randy is looking down at his and my connected crotches. I follow his eyes down, his hand moves off my belly, placing both on my hips as he matches my rhythmic motion. I see his manhood pulling and pushing my labia lips, his penis in my vagina. We are making love, having sex, fucking.

“Oh, GAUD RANDY!”

I can’t hold back as my stomach clenches and unclenches, making my pelvis jerk. I feel my muscles squeeze his dick inside me. Then I feel his jerk and his hot cum flood into me. My lover is coming with me, our orgasms in sync. I love his moan, his muscle spasms, his dick, his seed. We lay still with my weight on top of him. I put my head against his chest, listening to his racing heart slowing and his breathing calm.

I hear him say, “I LOVE you, Sandy Cunningham!”

I giggle.

Riding that pony now made me remember another time. Now I understood; Randy and I had accidentally caught mom and dad making love. We were probably 7 or 8 years old, and one morning, the two of us came running into the living room to watch cartoons. Mom was sitting funny on Daddy on the couch with a blanket around them. They froze as we came running in, turned on the TV, and plopped down on the floor.

At first, they said nothing, then mommy said, “Maybe you guys could play elsewhere for a bit.”

“But mommy, we want to watch cartoons!”

I looked at mommy and daddy. “Oh, mommy! Is daddy giving you a pony ride?”

I am sure they both blushed, and I remember mom giggling and stammering out, “Ah, Yes, Yes, daddy is giving me a pony ride.”

I just replied “Oh” and turned back around to watch cartoons, while they had to stay as is, being naked under the blanket, until dad finally spoke up, at first with a funny voice, then cleared his throat and told us that we needed to go back to our rooms.

After recalling this memory, while lying with mom as we talked about things (I liked just lying beside mom, and we would discuss all kinds of things, things that might be bothering me. Now I realize she was just making sure I was ‘well adjusted’ and wasn’t getting weirded out by our family’s interrelationships ... i.e. incest.) I told her about that time and their ‘pony ride’. Mom just laughed, remembering that morning years back. She admitted they were making love and right at orgasming when we appeared. It froze them, and they had to figure a way out without us seeing them nude. She also added that I had asked daddy if I could get a pony ride next, and the two of them cracked up with embarrassment. I didn’t remember that part. Probably focused on the cartoons by then.

I did tell mom that I had a dream about all of us together, in bed making love, switching partners ... Mom just kissed me and said nothing, but I saw her eyes glint with possibilities.

Dad took Randy to Florida with him. His house was finally repaired, and he was putting it up for sale. They were going to pack up his stuff. Dad was moving back to California to live with us. He even sold his truck, though I suspect he’ll be buying a new one here.

It’s just mom and me in the condo. I missed Randy so much that that night, I snuck into mom’s room and climbed into bed with her. We snuggled up close together, and I felt loved. We slept quietly.

The next morning, I could tell I was getting my period. Since mom had me on an IUD, my periods had decreased, but I still got cramps, and mom said I got cranky ... just what she wanted, being stuck with a grumpy teenage girl. She just laughed. I always remember quite well when she took me down to the doctor to insert the IUD. I probably blushed the entire time we were there. She held my hand, never letting go. I probably sweated all over her hand, I was so nervous. It was so embarrassing, me being only 14, but mom being a nurse, had told me every step and showed me lots of graphic drawings of what was inside me. Even though Randy and I had ‘done it’ several times, (unprotected!) I blushed at every diagram. If mom and I had not been as close as we had, I don’t think I could have taken her telling me all this. Later, she showed me what each part down there could do during lovemaking, but that’s another story!

She also specifically had a female doctor do the insertion since I really felt uncomfortable around an older man doing something so intimate. (Except my FATHER, I LOVED him!)

Anyway, my periods weren’t that bad, and I used tampons. One time, Randy came to me, and we were fooling around when he discovered its string hanging down outside of me. He’d had no idea and was afraid. I just laughed as I told him that’s how you pulled out the tampon. He asked me to see it, so I pulled it out. Bam! He passed right out! Obviously, he’s not going to be a doctor if a little bloody cotton did that to him. From that point on, as soon as he knew I had my period, we would just cuddle and kiss. Though once in a while, he was so horny, he’d ask me to take it out (in the bathroom), and we’d still do it. He avoided looking at the results as we waddled to the bathroom afterward. I loved it!

Mom had a heating pad she used for her periods, and guess what, we were synced! Her period came that same day, though her’s had dropped very low with her IUD. So we had cramps together and moaned at each other, getting fussy at simple things. Since she didn’t have a job and I was homeschooled and around so much, we’d get onto each other’s nerves during that time.

But we had a great way of making up. She would change me from regular clothes into my nightshirt and panties, she doing the same, just like I was a little girl. She’d take my hand, and we would snuggle up in her bed together. If the guys were around that day, she’d close the door as she told them to get lost. I loved it! We would kiss and cuddle until we made up and usually fell asleep for a while, though once in a while we’d go further and touch each other, removing our clothes and make love together.

These times were so intimate and so special to me. I never could remain mad at her. The only problem I had is that I usually felt guilty, not out of shame, not at all, but she could make me come so fast. She knew exactly how and where to touch me, and I’d orgasm so loudly at times I’d have to bury my face into a pillow to keep from embarrassing the whole house. I rarely was able to return the favor, but she would just smile and say she loved being able to give that gift to me. I love you so, mom!

In order to get out of the house and to make sure that my education was broadened beyond books, she would take Randy and I to many different things; stage plays, opera, symphonies, museums and several times per month, to the local women’s shelter to help out with the poor single mothers and their kids. For the former things, she’d make us write or draw, about the plays, music, art, science that we saw, not just visit. We had to study, hard!

I loved helping at the women’s shelter doing odd jobs, cooking, cleaning, and teaching the little children things. Randy didn’t seem to mind either. The women workers all liked him, now tall enough and strong enough to help with boxes and assembling things.

This time, Randy was with his father for a week or two, so mom and I were at the shelter alone. That is when I met Maria. She was 14 as well, just six months younger than me. Her mom was here after she had to leave Maria’s step-father. She had only a small bag and nothing else. Maria and I were friends immediately. She discovered I knew some Spanish and so we would talk in mixed Spanish and English, teaching each other words.

Initially, she was very introverted around the others there, but she and I were instantly attracted to each other. I would hold her hand as we walked around the area and talked. I liked being with her so much that I had mom bring me to the shelter nearly every day so I could be with Maria. I loved to see her eyes light up when she saw me.

I even bought her, and her mom pre-paid phones, just inexpensive ones, but I paid the bill from my (HUGE!) allowance. I also took her on a shopping trip for new clothes and shoes. She couldn’t get over us riding in the back of a limo with my “Little Miss” driver. Her eyes were so wide the entire trip. We were hugging the whole time. She was very frugal at the clothes she picked, so I had to push her to buy more. I told her that my mom, my brother, and I had lived with little money for nearly two years until my father (divorced) sold his and mom’s company. She still took very little from me. I had to hide the receipts from her and make her promise that these were gifts to her and not to ever have to repay me.

At the shelter, we had found a basement section full of old boxes and stuff, blankets, pillows, clothes. We build a kind of fort among them in one corner, a hidden place just for us. We used a box as a table and pillows for chairs and blankets to soften the concrete floor. We would play invisible games and have invisible tea parties, still teaching each other Spanish and English. I looked forward to our adventures each day.

While the guys were away, I slept with mom every night, telling her about Maria. Maria had 2 brothers and a sister, all younger than her, that were back in Mexico with their grandparents. She and her mom had come here looking for work with her step-dad, of course, overstaying their visas. I told mom that Maria hadn’t said how they ended up at the shelter or anything at all about her step-dad or her real father. I never pressed her as she always grew quiet there. Mom was happy I was so interested and helping them, but did remind me that most people only were in the shelter for a short time and to enjoy every moment together.

The next day, Maria and I were back in our little hidden spot together. She was a bit downturned, and so we sat side by side, having moved our box table out of the way. We sat arm and arm on the pillows and blankets. She whispered her story to me quietly; when she was just 13, her step-dad had started showing more interest in her and not just her mom. He would have her sit on his lap while watching cartoons at times. His arms would be around her and rub her belly, sometimes up to her little breasts over her pajamas. He would kiss her neck and cheek and tell her she was pretty. If mom came in, he would start tickling her and making her laugh and giggle. But once mom was gone, especially when she was at work, he would have her on his lap. He would bounce her on his leg, up and down, like a pony ride. Sometimes it had made her feel tingly. He would touch her belly under her nightshirt. Another time he would take her into her room and help her get dressed, pulling off her nightshirt so only her panties were on, and he would comment about her ‘beautiful’ breasts and kiss her belly and then her little nipples. She knew this wasn’t right, but was afraid she would get in trouble if she said anything.

She had been told to watch out for strangers, but this was her dad, well step-dad. In just her panties, he would take her into the bathroom to ‘wash’ her. “Don’t you need to pee?” he would ask, and then help her pull down her panties and sit her on the toilet. He would watch as she peed, then use a washcloth to wipe her head and face, her arms and hands, chest and belly, then down her legs and feet and between her thighs last. He would smile and say she was so pretty a girl and that he was proud of her and lean over and kiss her on the cheek and then quickly on the mouth.

He would pick her up and carry her naked back to her room and pull on new panties and clothes. Then let her go outside to play, while he took her nightclothes and panties into the bathroom for a while. Later, he would sit her on his knee again and play pony. Her clothes were usually just simple dresses and panties underneath, no shoes or bra or such. With his hands around her waist, low on her belly, he would softly bounce her with her legs on either side of his leg. He would find a rhythm that she said made her feel tingles, and one time even made her jerk with strange, unexpected feelings. At first, she began to like him, hugging him.

But then, one night, he climbed into her little bed. He pulled down her panties, removed her nightshirt. He kissed her and said he loved her, and she should show her love back by doing this.

Maria’s voice cracked as she continued. By this point, she and I were wrapped into each other’s arms tightly; both had tears running down our faces. She whispered very quietly in my ear.

“He kissed my breasts and my lips. He kissed my belly and then down between my legs. I was so scared. I was crying, and he said hush and don’t make a sound, that he wanted to show me how much he loved me. He put his hand over my mouth, and I cried. He, he...”

I held her tight, my eyes crying so much for her pain. She and I held each other, just rocking back and forth.

I told her, “I have to help you! I want to help you and your family. Don’t think about that fucking Maldito Estúpido ASSHOLE! I love you, Maria!”

She looked at me, shocked at my cussing, crying at my crying. We laughed at each other’s pitifulness. We lay in each other’s arms until both our phones ding with messages of ‘Where are you?’

We kissed. Embarrassed, we giggled again and answered the texts. Replies came asking us to come. Not wanting to leave our safe place, we kissed each other again, this time longer and harder, dried our tears, and I promised to see her tomorrow.

That night with mom, I told her I wanted to do SOMETHING for them, ANYTHING. I told her Maria’s story. We both cried for what seemed like hours. Maria had been raped by her step-father. She whispered that it happened several times, and her mom eventually found out, coming home early. She would have shot him had there been a gun. Instead, she broke a chair over his head, knocking him completely out, and they left everything behind. Her mom would have burned the place down with him in it if she had had a match.