Chapter 23

Claire was quite literally the “Girl Next Door.” She sat next to me on the ride home, facing her mom, my mom, and Kyle. The three of them were jogging to keep up.

Charity and Karen’s tits were bouncing and jiggling, and all three of their asses were wiggling as they had to expend so much effort not to be dragged behind the cart.

Mike didn’t have the cart at maximum speed, but he wasn’t showing much mercy towards the submissives trying to keep up either.

Claire was wearing clothes, and I had ALMOST forgotten that I was naked.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” Claire looked at me and smiled before looking down at my lap and asking me if I’d rather wait until something pops up to talk about it. It was her not so subtle hint that she noticed my boner.

Kyle, Karen, and Charity could also see my erection. I put my hands in my lap and tried to force it down.

“That isn’t anything to be shy about. You’ve got a really nice pecker,” Claire complimented me.

“Thank you,” I said awkwardly. “I don’t hear that very often.”

I realized how impossibly strange “Not being complimented very often” on the attractiveness of my dick sounded when I said it out loud.

Claire laughed and asked me not to be so polite to her. It wasn’t for the same reason that Charity had asked us to callously ignore politeness around her. Claire just didn’t want me to try so hard to impress her.

“You act like you are on a date and you are afraid to burp or fart around me,” Claire had so much confidence.

I liked that her example of my awkwardness still put me in the realm of possibility of being on a date with her even though in her own example, I was blowing it.

“I’ll try to fart when we stop if that will make things easier,” I said with a deadpan expression.

Claire giggled at my joke and told me that she had been quietly letting out soft tiny little farts this entire time. I wasn’t sure if she was kidding or not.

“What about you?” I joked that she was overdressed for our date. “I am naked, and here you are fully dressed,” I smiled. Claire was wearing a skimpy top that did little to hide her tits and a micro mini skirt. It was still quite a bit more than anyone else had on besides her brother.

“Oh, it’s like that now? You are going to use your humor to disarm me, charm me, and then get me naked?” Claire asked, skeptically.

I was about to say that I was only kidding when Claire reached behind her back and began to pull off her top, exposing her breasts. “I suppose it is working. Try a bit harder, and I take the bottoms off,” she promised.

“That has quite literally never worked before,” I said with a deadpan expression.

Claire giggled and lifted her butt up while keeping her seat belt on and then slid her skirt back off. She was now completely naked except for some flats she was wearing. “Happy now?” she smiled at me. “I wouldn’t want you to think I am a prude,” she said.

“After that story today, I don’t think prude would be a word I’d use to describe you,” I admitted.

“Good,” Claire said and looked right at her brother Kyle and shouted, “Kyle, heads up! Don’t drop these,” she tossed her top and shorts to Kyle, they hit his chest and dropped under his feet. He even stepped on them as he trotted behind the cart.

“You know his hands were cuffed behind him?” I smirked and reminded her that unless he caught them with his teeth he would have dropped them no matter what.

“Oh well, they were pretty trashy anyway. I’ll send him back to look for them later,” Claire turned to me with a smirk. “You know there are people who live in Sunny Manor who NEVER wear clothes,” she said.

“That must make it strange when they go to the Olive Garden,” I said.

“Oh, funny! too bad I don’t have any more clothes to take off,” she said suggestively.

I knew I should have said something sexy and confident, but instead, I said, “Too bad.”

I could literally watch the boredom roll across her face.

“Darn, three funny comments and then a strike!” I said with a smirk.

Claire told me I couldn’t win them all and laughed a little. She said, what word would I use to describe her instead of a prude.

“Beautiful!” I said without hesitation.

“Cha-Cha-Cheesy!” Claire pretended to sneeze in her hand and asked me if that was my final answer or would I like to phone a friend. That was a reference to a TV game show.

“You have a hard time taking a compliment,” I observed. Charity had told me she did as well.

“I am just allergic to cheese. I’ve heard every pick-up line. I’ve been told my eyes are like emeralds,” she looked into my eyes. “I’ve been told my tits are perky and look good enough to be fake,” she put my hands on her tits.

Yep, that’s right. In broad daylight, as we rode in the back of a golf cart, a pretty older girl just put my hands on her boobs to make a point.

“What do they say about your vagina, then?” I said as I looked her straight in the eye with a deadpan expression. I wanted to laugh because Claire cracked up.

“That’s not a vagina,” Claire moved one of my hands down to her well-trimmed pussy and said that it was a cunt. “A vagina is a car that has only been driven to church on Sundays by a little old lady. A cunt has some miles on it,” she let me touch it.

“It feels pretty good to me,” I began to rub the wetness on her pussy.

Keep in mind that not only was it still daylight, but we were riding through a community nude with three people running behind the cart. My sisters and brothers were in the cart, and if any turned around, they would have seen me.

Charity, the girl’s mom, and her brother were watching, and they saw how I was touching her.

We hit a bump, and her tits shook. I slipped my finger in a little further into her pussy and wriggled it around.

Claire had an “Oh, really?” expression on her face when I did that.

“I didn’t say you could finger fuck me on the way home,” she moved my hand out of her pussy. “You’ll have to take me to dinner for that!”

She was kidding, but I didn’t know that.

“Great, where would you like to go to eat?” I said, quite seriously.

Claire laughed because she thought it was one of my deadpan jokes.

“Oh, you are serious? Oh, I am sorry. I thought it was one of your jokes,” Claire said. “Are you really asking me to go out to dinner?” she said.

“Yeah, I thought that was what we were talking about,” I couldn’t look at her pretty eyes when I said it.

“It is just kind of weird. Most guys would prefer to skip dinner and just get straight to fucking. It may be novel, sure, but don’t ask me where I want to go. Just take me,” she said.

“When would you like to go?” I asked with a hopeful expression.

“Am I the first girl you’ve ever asked out on a date before?” Claire asked.

“No,” I lied. She definitely was the first girl I was comfortable enough to ask out on a date.

Claire looked at me like she could tell I was lying.

“Are you a virgin? And I don’t mean oral sex or something. I mean, have you done it with a girl, in the vagina or cunt?” Claire asked me, rather bluntly.

“Yes,” I lied.

“Who was she? names, dates,” Claire was teasing me, but I didn’t realize that.

I got a little nervous and said I couldn’t remember.

“Look, I am flattered, Matt. I am just busting your chops. I may be available this Friday at 8pm. I’ll let you know this week, okay? But I do have one question,” she said. I told her to ask, and she said, “I thought I saw you talking to Stacy Sterling today,” she said.

I assumed Sterling was Stacy’s last name. I shrugged and said, “You told me you only date black guys.”

“Oh, it is like that, huh? Well, normally I do, but I was willing to make an exception in your case. I just like to know where I stand. Am I a backup plan, or are you trading up?” she asked me.

Shit, that was the best question I had ever heard in my life. Let me see if I can break this question down for you the way I interpreted it. There are two choices. In one choice, SHE is my backup plan meaning that I am so fucking cool and awesome that I could have a side chick in case the first one fell through. In the other choice, I am trading up from one hottie to a better hottie.

“I am just going to take you to Olive Garden or something. I am not marrying you,” I said instead of answering the question.

“Oh, now that was a good answer, Matt Camden. There aren’t many restaurants outside of Sunny Manor unless you like Denny’s,” she said.

It dawned on me I had ZERO plan for how to drive her anywhere. I didn’t have my license, and my dad would never let me borrow the car.

“Then maybe we will trip the light fantastic at Chez Pichard?” I said.

“Oh, you dance?” She sounded excited.

“Maybe a little,” I lied. I totally did not dance.

“You sure you can afford it? It is about a hundred dollars for a three-course meal,” she said.

That was way out of my price range. I’d sell everything I owned to come up with two hundred bucks for a date with her. I told her it was no problem.

I observed Karen stub her toe and hop in anguish for a bit. Mike was driving, and he was paying attention to the slaves in the back because he slowed down a little so she could recover and then took off as soon as it looked like she did.

“That was quite a story you told today,” I said about their history.

“Yeah, too bad none of it is true,” she chuckled.

“Wait? None? Kyle’s collar says Lil’ bitch, that wasn’t your name while you were in training? You were never in training?” I asked with a confused expression.

“You are lying to me about being able to dance, and afford Chez Pichard, so I just thought we were at the stage of our relationship already where we are telling lies to each other,” she said.

“Huh? Oh, I am sorry. Yeah, I totally can’t afford Chez Pichard, and I definitely can’t dance,” I admitted.

“I’d rather you be honest with me then you make me trim my pussy, powder it all up for you and then get me to Chez Pichard and say you forgot your wallet and you hurt your knee and can’t dance,” she smirked.

Those were pretty good excuses.

I’d planned to learn to dance and get the money somehow, but I didn’t want to seem super desperate, so I nodded that the truth was better.

“The things my father told you happened are nothing for me to be proud of, but it all went down like that. Honestly, most guys would hear I turned tricks with my mother and head for the hills. You don’t think we are all fucked up?” she asked.

In retrospect, I should have said, “Yeah, I think you are fucked up, but I like fucked up!” or something like that.

“No,” I said instead.

“So you know a lot of girls who turned tricks before high school that was trained to be submissive along with their mom, and then became a Dominatrix because their dad lost a bet?” Claire asked me rhetorically with a quizzical smirk.

“I think I may have met a few since I moved in,” I said.

“Point well taken,” Claire admitted that her upbringing may possibly not be the most sordid tale in Sunny Manor.

“I think it is kind of hot,” I said after some reflection. Claire looked disappointed when I said that at first. I think she expected me to talk about the sexuality. “I grew up in what you would call the most vanilla part of Atlanta. We have Cheshire street. All the freaky people come out at night, and they have tattoo parlors, piercings, and stuff, but I’ve never set foot down there. I didn’t know much about dominance and submission when I got here. You, on the other hand, have been exposed to submission and dominance first hand. You have done it enough to know what you want and don’t want. Just seeing the love in Charity’s eyes for my father even now when she runs behind the cart and struggles to keep up tells me that what they are doing isn’t fucked up. I’d love to have the intense feelings they have for each other for someone else one day. I don’t think you are fucked up. And no, I’ve never met any girls like you. Even if they lived your exact situation, I doubt they would be just like you,” I don’t know where those words came from. I just opened my mouth, and instead of stuttering, stammering, or being cheesy, I said what I thought.

“Wow, you keep talking like that, and I know someone who is getting a blowjob on our date,” Claire’s pretty green eyes sparkled.

I wanted to keep talking, but we were already at our house. I was going to bid her goodnight and kiss her hand. I am glad that I didn’t because I later learned that it would have seemed super weird. My Dad stopped me from making this blunder by announcing that the McGiffords were eating at our house.

“You sure? I don’t want to put you guys out,” Mike asked as he hopped out and began untying his son and wife (in that order). He left their handcuffs on, and he left the big penis in his wife’s ass and the gag despite the angry eyes she offered him when he did.