Chapter 22

July 10, 2017

Dear Ms. Diary,

After the fun and excitement on Saturday, the rest of my weekend was pretty tame, though pleasant. I spent a fair bit of time on Sunday thinking about the offense and watching videos of the US women’s national team. Man, they’re good! I picked up a couple of ideas from that exercise that we might use.

Today’s practice was interesting, as we tried out the four-person front line, with Padme and me splitting time on one of the two center positions; Rhee had the other. We played against the starting fullbacks and midfielders and had two backup midfielders as support for the starting offense. It did not feel radically different from our three-person-plus-sweeper offense. However, I am used to providing for the offense, not being a large part of the offense.

The practice also showed two things regarding Heather. The first was that her confidence was much greater than it was even a week ago. She was great out there, with a couple of bang-on crosses. She also got to show her speed a couple of times, getting the ball about halfway into the defensive side, kicking it past the fullback, and beating her to the ball. The second thing it showed was that it would be nearly impossible to keep her out of the starting lineup; Lissa will have to change positions if she wants to play much.

Here in my room after supper, I find myself greatly missing Rhee. And Heather. Last week, I wouldn’t have guessed that could happen. I guess I must be horny. I can wait, though, as I’ll be staying with Rhee tomorrow night. That means that, in addition to having sex tomorrow, I might not get tomorrow’s events written tomorrow.

July 11, 2017 (Tuesday)

Dear Ms. Diary,

Our second game in three weeks against Springfield, a middle-of-the-pack team, was, other than a better-than-expected defensive effort on Springfield’s part, unsurprising. We won 8-0, with each of five players getting goals (Rhee, Heather, and I got two each; Rathi and Kanda got the others). Kanda got the game ball for a combination of her efforts at left half after Emma went off with a jammed finger and her goal and an assist for one of my goals.

July 12, 2017 (Wednesday)

Dear Ms. Diary,

I am sitting in my room after this morning’s practice pondering life, particularly how it can change so suddenly, so completely, and so surprisingly. Two weeks ago, Heather Wilkerson was just a teammate I did not know at all well. Two months ago, Rhee and I were best friends, but we were just that, best friends. Not lovers. Two months ago, I had not seen Carol naked. Two months ago, I had not had sex with anyone but myself.

I began this diary as a direct result of Mom’s infidelity and a couple of hopes, faint hopes, that I could alter house policy to the point where I could be naked at home and regularly get to see Dad naked, hopefully with an erection. The results, both direct and indirect, of that decision to blackmail Mom to achieve those two faint hopes, have been nothing short of spectacular. My life has changed extraordinarily. The result I find most surprising is how full of sex these diary pages are. I have gone from having solo sex two to four times a week to having frequent sex with one, sometimes two, partners. I have gone from having seen Dad’s penis once – and very poorly at that – to seeing it nearly every day. I get to see it flaccid, and I get to see it in all its purple-headed majesty and every state between. I have even gotten to see it moving in and out of a vagina.

Thus, I am writing here very little about last night’s sex with Rhee, because that session now seems so tame, so ... commonplace that it does not get the banner headlines and play-by-play details that it would have gotten even a month ago. Hell, even two weeks ago. The final oddity about that is that it was ... simply ... wonderful. It was not an obligatory get-in-get-out sex act. It involved kissing, making out, digital and lingual penetration of vaginas, and multiple orgasms for each of us. Above all, it involved two lovers sharing a night in the best fashion I can imagine, the love and caring being my foremost memory of the night.

It does not help in the presentation of events such as our long, complex, and involved sharing of ourselves last night that this diary is already over 100,000 words, that when I read back over those words, I seem to be running out of different ways to describe particular things, particular acts, despite those things and acts feeling and being different from similar predecessors. It does not help that I have just a few hours of writing solitude between my return home from practice and the arrival of Rhee and Heather for dinner and a mini sleepover.

I have been pondering sharing this diary with Rhee, but that pondering gets my gastrointestinal Lepidoptera fluttering. I see quite a bit of myself in these words, which makes sharing them a bit scary – no, a lot scary, but I want to be open with Rhee. Is sharing this diary with her the right thing to do? It would let Mom’s infidelity out of the bag, at least a little bit. I know Rhee would not spread it around, and I suspect she will not change her opinion of Mom, but I do not absolutely know that. I will continue pondering on that topic.

Tomorrow’s game is away against Sedgwick early in the morning. That means another early-morning departure, which is the reason behind the mini-sleepover. We beat that team handily in our last meeting. The sea change in our offense combined with the seasoning of our defense and various backups suggest to me that we are looking at another blowout. And blowouts are now something of a bittersweet thing for me. We win and I get assists, but I get much less playing time.

It’s time to go help with dinner. I hope to have time to write tomorrow about what I expect to be another incredible sex session with my love and our lover.

Rhee arrived a bit after 4:30, at which point Mom had been home for a few minutes. We went upstairs to put Rhee’s bag in my room and say more personal greetings, which involved quite a few minutes of kissing.

“I know I’m repeating myself, but last night was wonderful,” said Rhee in an interlude between bouts of kissing.

“Yes, it was. Umm, you didn’t miss Heather last night?”

She started to answer immediately but pulled back and scrunched her face into her serious-thinking mien.

“No, I didn’t,” she said when she’d come to the end of her cogitation. “It’s certainly incredibly exciting when we have sex with her, but last night was for us and I thought about her very little then. As I said, last night was for us and it was more ... hmm, yes, more fulfilling. More variable, more cerebral, more fulfilling.”

She paused a few seconds, then looked me in the eyes and grinned hugely, “Not that I’m not looking forward to tonight’s pure sex extravaganza!”

The grin drifted off her face, replaced by a thoughtful look.

“I still don’t understand why it is you and I get so incredibly revved to sex her up. What button is her presence pushing that you and I seem to share completely? The thing is, I’m confident I know most of the reasons I’m so attracted to you, but I’m at a loss to figure out our thing with her. Yes, she’s funny, fun, incredibly smart, quite cute, and has lovely breasts and a very cute ass, but there must be hundreds of girls with similar features in this city – and I know you and I have met at least a few such. But I’ve never gotten even a twitch of the itch I get from Heather from any of those other girls. “I’ve also never gotten anything like that itch from any male other than Charlie. I think you haven’t, either, except, possibly, with Brett,” and she cocked her eyebrow at me.

I shook my head and replied, “I’ve gotten a pretty strong twitch from Brett, but nothing like the pussy itch I occasionally get from Dad. And, by the way, I get that itch from Dad nearly every time I see him now. I used to get it only sporadically. Now, most times I see him, my mind goes back to our table or your couch.”

A stray thought entered my mind, and I snorted.

Rhee raised that eyebrow at me again, so I answered, “Just a passing thought, but what I see in my mind’s eye when my pussy is flooding because Dad’s in sight is Dad’s cock banging in and out of Mom’s pussy either parallel to the floor at my house or perpendicular to it at yours.”

Rhee chuckled.

“Yeah, that’s mostly what I see, too. I’ve been wondering recently if our whole family will ever do Truth or Dare again. God, that was ... exhilarating.”

“I doubt it. But, if it does happen again, I think we can expect it to get more sexual, more quickly.”

Rhee nodded emphatically.

I asked, “Would you be okay with that?”

“Oh, god, yes. I must be a voyeur because I’ve never masturbated in a room with anyone but me in it. That crap online has absolutely nothing on Charlie and Sandy fucking on the couch next to my mom and in front of us. I would pay to see that again. Oh, I’m more than willing to spy on them if they give us another opportunity – and that is incredibly hot in its own right, but them doing it right in front of us, knowing – well, I’m not too sure their brains were working then, but knowing that we were only feet away from them and watching was way, way better than anything else like that I’ve ever seen.”

“Agreed and agreed and agreed. I’d really like T or D to happen again, but I’m very hesitant to suggest it. In fact, I’m positive I shouldn’t, nor should you. It will have to be Carol or Mom ... uh ... Sandy, and I think it’s most likely to happen if Carol suggests it. Dad will object, but if Carol proposes it, I think Dad won’t object too strenuously and that it very well could happen.”

“Yeah, and I shouldn’t mention it to M ... Carol, either. We’ll just have to be cool and hope.”

“Agreed. However, I think if it does happen even one more time, T or D could be of somewhat regular occurrence at family get-togethers.”

“Oh, wouldn’t that be wonderful! And, taking your thought a little further, if it does become a regular feature, it will become entirely, or virtually so, about sex. If it does become a regular feature, we might get to love your dad.”

I nodded. “I can see that. Oh, god, I’m almost hyperventilating just imagining that outcome.”

Another one of those stray thoughts flashed into my forebrain and I must have startled, because Rhee said, “What? What did you just think?”

“Well, if A and B results in C, then sex in our family, which would include Charlie with all four females – and, god, but I’m getting wet, then why not put the two parts of our family together under one roof? That way, Charlie has constant access to all four of us and all four of us have constant access to Charlie.”

“Oh, my fucking god. That’s it! That gets us what we want.” Rhee then shook herself violently and added, “Nirvana. Yes, Nirvana. But likely, or even possible? I think not. But, oh, how wonderful if it were to come about that way.”

Then Rhee’s eyes bugged out. She’d had an interesting thought.

“Give,” I said.

“Oh. My. God. Okay. Imagine that scenario: Charlie, Sandy, Carol, and the two of us living together, and any of us being able to have sex with any other of us. You’ve got it. Right? Now... [she inserted a long pause for effect] ... add Heather.”

“Whoa! Fuck!”

I shook my head violently. OH. MY. GOD. I do not know what would happen in that scenario, but whatever happened, I am sure it would be through the roof.

“Holy hell,” I said, then laughed. “I think that, maybe, just maybe, Heather might actually get completely satisfied. She’d certainly be everyone’s sex doll. Huh. How many orgasms can a girl have in one day? Where’s the exhaustion point?”

“Yeah, that all ran through my head, too. You know, we can’t allow even a whiff of that possibility, no matter how remote it is, to get out to her. I don’t know what she’d do.”

“Well, I’m not going to tell her about our first T or D session, at least, not given the current situation, and I’m certainly not going to tell her our extrapolation of our first T or D session”

Right then, the doorbell rang, and we both bolted down the stairs to, if our assumptions were correct, let Heather in. We just beat Dad to the door; Rhee opened it. We were both bamboozled for a second because with Heather was a woman, presumably her mother. I remembered my manners and invited them in. Heather let her (presumed) mother enter first. I could see from where Heather’s color and shape came, though the woman was not as attractive as Heather.

Mom arrived just then, saying, “Come in, come in. Welcome.”

Then Heather took over, introducing her mother, Constance, to everyone and everyone to her mother. That social task completed, Heather figuratively and literally stepped back.

Constance said, “I’ve been hearing so much about you folks that I felt it my duty to meet you all. I thank you for putting up with an extra girl around and for offering Heather rides to away games; that greatly simplifies my life, and I’m grateful. I just hope she hasn’t been a problem at all.”

I was a bit surprised that Dad was the one to respond, as this is usually Mom’s bailiwick.

“Not at all. Heather is a lovely, bright girl with a great sense of humor. We’ve greatly enjoyed what little time she’s spent here and is welcome here anytime.”

I glanced at Heather and saw her blank, jaws-clamped expression that indicates she is holding something behind her teeth and that her eyes were slightly moist. Poor Heather.

“I appreciate that,” responded Constance. “My work situation does not permit as much latitude as, perhaps, we’d both like, so it’s been difficult at times to get her to soccer, something she seems to like quite a bit.”

As I expected, Mom jumped in at that point, presenting the gracious façade of which she is so capable.

“No problem at all. We both work, sometimes long hours, so we understand the limitations our jobs have occasionally imposed on Beth, through no fault of hers. Now that she’s older and our jobs have more latitude than they did when she was little, we get to enjoy her friends. And they are a joy, and Heather fits right in. As Charlie said, she’s welcome here at any time.

“I wanted to take this opportunity to say that if you find yourself in need of someone to keep an eye on her, feel free to send her here. I know very little about your family, and having raised one child, I can’t imagine what you must go through with three, with only one parent – yes?”