Chapter 18

Mary walked up to the halfway house with a grim look on her face. She appeared in control. This was part of her job as much as the paperwork. She had a duty to be at her best for her client. She hadn’t seen or heard from her daughter in days.

She folded worry into adrenaline into energy. She looked up at the three story converted townhouse. She hadn’t been in the building since she had been an associate. She wondered if she wouldn’t have handed off the case if the tenuous connection between her daughter Lilith’s babysitting gig hadn’t existed.

She had a difficult client. Not so much a difficult case.

She approached the desk. The girl behind there was dressed in a cheap security uniform. They really should’ve had a big orderly looking guy for the building. Mary walked up to the girl.

“Hello Ma’am,” the girl said, handing a clipboard on a bungee cord to Mary. “Do you need a pen?”

“I don’t see Don Sievert here,” Mary said.

“Well, we actually have a Frank Sievert. Not Don,” the girl answered. “Perhaps you’re mistaken.”

“I’m not, Don is Frankie–Frank’s brother. He agreed to be here while I met with his brother,” she sighed. “How is Frank today?”

“One sec,” the girl said. She turned to her computer and slowly clicked through a series of windows. “Um ... He’s up in his room.”

“Nothing to note then?” Mary asked, returning to her own question.

“I haven’t interacted with Frank,” the girl said.

“Right,” Mary said. She scratched her name onto the sign-in sheet. The door opened behind her.

“Oh, Mrs Cowie! Hello, you got here before me,” Don greeted the lawyer warmly as he entered the building. “Hello Sasha, you’re looking, uh...” he looked over her bland security uniform without breaking his smile, “secure today.”

“Um, thank you,” the security guard girl said with a frown. “You have to sign in. But, Frank can’t have two visitors at once and–”

Mrs Cowie interrupted Sasha with a glare.

“I am Mr Sievert’s attorney,” Mrs Cowie said, she slid the girl a card through the bay of the hard plastic shield between them. “Mr Trevor will be accompanying me.”

“Right, of course,” Sasha said. “Up the stairs, room two-oh-four.”

Mary nodded and Don followed her. She frowned at Don as they stepped onto the second floor landing.

“Sasha? She’s hardly older than my girls.”

“What? No, not like that,” Don laughed. “I checked in with everyone who’ll be looking in a Frankie.”

“You’re a good brother,” Mary said.

“One of us had to be,” Don said, losing some of his mirth. He knocked on two-oh-four and walked in without waiting for Frankie to open the door.

Frankie was sitting on the bed, rolled back with the strap of his ankle monitor between his teeth tearing on it aggressively.

“He’s your Danny DeVito,” Mary said.

“One: we’re not twins,” Don said, sighing. “And, two: Danny DeVito is charming as hell.”

Nat had her knees up at her shoulders and her ankles tucked under her ass. She bit down hard on the handle of her hairbrush as her fingers ground into her pussy aggressively. She had her eyes closed. It didn’t stop her from seeing Richie’s face.

His voice was less of a hallucination.

Through the thin wall between her back and Richie’s room. The rap of his headboard echoed through the shower tiles and into Nat’s shoulders. She squeezed her fingertips in time with her brother’s aggression.

Lilith was moaning, it sounded like her cheek was pressed hard against the flat of the headboard.

Speed up! Harder! Nat forcefully swallowed a moan.

There wasn’t anyone else for her anymore. Her brother had kicked her out of his room when he had brought the high schoolers over. Even if he didn’t want her on the bed, he could’ve at least let his sister masturbate in his computer chair.

The gaming chair had definitely seen its share of masturbating throughout its life. So it was a girl this time? Big deal.

Lilith groaned aggressively.

Nat could even see Lilith’s big Cowie tits trying to whap the skank in the face. The back of Nat’s eyelids had become drive-in theater screens for aggressive brutal sex. Starring Richie.

The bathroom door opened. Zita walked by and nearly shrieked to find Nat in the shower. Nat opened one eye just to make eye contact.

Richie’s grunt cleared the wall.

Nat closed her eyes and went back to work.

Zita frowned. Everyone was high on Richie fucking. Except Lilith. She flicked on an off her attraction like a fucking strobe light. It wasn’t until Richie had taken a fistful of Lilith’s dark brown hair and pinned her face with one hand as he slapped her ass with the other, did she submit to the long aggressive fucking.

Zita was half-mad like Nat, but only because Lilith had kept cutting in and pulling out of Zita’s turn. Her pussy was sore and unsatisfied. She pissed and set her elbows on her knees. Staring daggers at Nat.

“You’re fucked up,” Zita declared, as she relaxed and started.

“Oh my god!” Nat said. She hissed out a long breath. “Don’t make me moan. It’ll ruin his fucking boner.”

Zita frowned. It sounded like Nat was close to tears.

“He’s not gonna fuck his sister,” Zita said, rolling out the toilet paper.

“But-But–” Nat caught the hairbrush as it fell. She shoved it back in her mouth, parallel to her tongue this time and sucked it in. Her jaw clenched and locked. She shot Zita a dangerous glare.

Zita just stared over Nat’s head. She couldn’t hear Lilith and Richie as well as Nat. Zita didn’t have her body tight against the tiles. She wasn’t feeling the vibrations up her bone. Zita flushed. She walked over and started washing her hands. She watched Nat in the mirror.

“Richie’s cock was just up my pussy,” Zita said. Her cheek was pressed into the bathroom mirror a second later and Nat was thrusting into Zita’s pussy. Though, with tongue.

Zita was unsurprised by what was happening and readily surprised by what she was feeling. She gasped, reaching over the sink and slapping one hand on the mirror. Her other hand grabbed the eave of the countertop. She spread her feet, wincing as her hipbone ground into the fake-marble. She lifted herself onto her toes.

Zita didn’t know if she was supposed to gloat. She wasn’t feeling a lot of pride. She didn’t know if she was supposed to taunt. She wasn’t feeling a lot of spite. She did know she was going to cum. She was feeling a lot of pleasure.

Girls were so fucking wrong! They weren’t Richie. They weren’t guys at all. Zita could pick out the pretties from the uglies. She could hate them both for very similar reasons. She knew what her running did to her ass. She knew what that did to guys behind her. She knew what Richie did when he got hands on her ass.

She knew Nat was a knockout. She knew Nat oozed sex and fight like any sex symbol Zita had ever admired. Zita knew she didn’t get hot by girls.

Zita couldn’t figure out why she got hot for Richie’s girls.

Nat’s deliberate tongue and slim cool fingers were nothing like Richie’s semi-blind exuberant tongue or his stiff big fingers. Zita shook her head. Her black hair was already messed up from Richie’s pillow. Lilith hadn’t helped Zita’s hair day by dragging the black girl’s mouth up and down Richie’s cock. Lilith was rough with her toys and Zita had been the perfect playset.

Tangles blocked Zita’s view of her own screwed up face. She felt like she was cheating, not on Richie but from Richie. This was the right thing to do. Keep his sister from spoiling his fun. Keep Nat from barging in and forcing him to face the consequences ... of what? His hotness?

Lilith shrieked.

He was handling his hotness just fine.

Zita slapped the mirror and then balled her fist. Nat knew her way around a pussy better than Oksana did. No. Nat didn’t waste any time being cute. She got down to business. Her tongue was folded into a U and twisting over Zita’s clit. Nat’s nose was buried in the pink.

Zita tried and failed to look at herself in the mirror. She was too tense. She didn’t want to let the muscles slack in her legs and feet. She had already clapped her pelvis a second time. Her wrist was getting sore and there was burning in her upper arm. She forced herself to stay elevated.

Nat slurped loudly.

Lilith slumped forward with a pool of cum on the small of her back. What a way to blow a Tuesday afternoon! Hell, this could be the plan for the week really. Richie was never impossible to track down and when she did the door was open for some of the best sex she could imagine.

She frowned. She could imagine quite good sex. What if–

No, Richie needed to be here. He was slumped, sitting on his ankles, kneading the meat of her ass as he heaved and groaned.