A Night Visitor

I dropped my backpack next to the guest room bed and set my phone and a glass of water on the nightstand. Then I peeled off my sweaty clothes, dropped face-first onto the mattress, and burrowed my way under the covers. As I cozied my head into the pillow, preparing for sleep, I reflected that I should probably take a shower, but I was too damned tired for that. Sleep first. I could shower in the morning.

Despite the bone-crushing exhaustion I felt, sleep refused to come. I closed my eyes and fought to keep them shut, but thoughts and images and questions invariably forced them back open. The events of the evening turned over in my mind, each memory layered on top of the other until it all became an unsettling maelstrom of sights and sounds.

Kissing Courtney, grinding against Ashley in the pool, Erin’s perfect tits, snorting coke, my cock in Erin’s ass, the devil’s bargain that I’d made with her, and the way she’d torn Ashley to pieces.

I wouldn’t sleep. Not yet anyway. I found the television remote on the nightstand and turned it on. Maybe a movie would keep my mind occupied long enough to let me fall asleep. I found something vaguely familiar on a pay channel and turned the volume down low, eventually falling into a twilight trance that was neither sleep nor wakefulness, but a satisfactory purgatory in between.

A soft knock at the door roused me.

“Are you awake?” came a husky voice from the other side of the door.

“Yeah.”

“Can I come in?”

The door opened and Courtney slipped into the dark room, shutting it behind her. I propped myself up on my elbow and rubbed my bleary eyes.

“I saw the light under the door and heard the TV,” she said quietly. She stood near the foot of the bed, silhouetted by the bright glow of the television.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” she said, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. She’d put on her bedtime clothes. A cami tank top and a pair of panties.

“What do you mean?” I asked, but she didn’t answer right away. Instead, she turned her head to watch the movie. I noticed she held her phone. I put my hand on hers, and she turned to face me.

“Hey, what’s up?” I asked.

She slid her hand away and glanced at the screen to check something before putting her phone in her lap.

“I’m worried about Ash,” she said.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

The television backlit Courtney’s head, obscuring her features in shadow. I couldn’t see the concerned expression on her face, but I heard it in her voice.

“She was crying when she came back, but she wouldn’t tell us why. What happened with her mom? What did you guys talk about?”

I couldn’t tell her. Not if Ashley had chosen to keep it to herself. So, I deflected.

“I already told you.”

“Not really, no. You didn’t,” she insisted.

“Are you still worried about getting in trouble?” I asked, trying to redirect her questions. “Don’t be. Ashley’s mom isn’t going to say anything.”

“Did something happen when you went in there with her? The first time, I mean?” she asked pointedly, and my pulse quickened. Had they heard something? A moan? A scream? I couldn’t remember if we’d been loud. It seemed so long ago now, and I was so fucked up.

“Like what?” I asked, trying to keep my voice cool.

Courtney looked down at her lap. I sat up and rested my arms on my knees.

“I don’t know,” she said at last. She turned her body to face me, and I could finally see the concern on her face. “Something just doesn’t feel right. This isn’t like Mrs. Mitchell at all. She’s never been this understanding about anything. Especially when it comes to Ash.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. She was right, of course, but I couldn’t tell her that. Not yet anyway. Not until Ashley and I had had a chance to talk alone, and definitely not before I got the situation back under control. Until then, it seemed simpler to keep the truth to myself.

“You know her better than I do,” I said with a shrug. “But that’s what she said.”

Courtney frowned. Her concerns wouldn’t be so easily allayed. “Does any of it make sense to you?” she challenged. “I mean, no offense, guy, but you’re old enough to be our dad.”

“Wow. Thanks for that,” I said, affecting a wounded tone. It had the intended effect, and it was Courtney’s turn to put her hand on mine.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant you’re a lot old ... er. But you look good for your age. Like, really good. Trust me. I just meant, why would Mrs. Mitchell be fine with someone like you hanging out with her daughter, you know? It just feels, I don’t know ... a little creepy.”

“So, I’m old and creepy.”

“I didn’t say that,” she sputtered and quickly back peddled. “I’m talking about the situation. I’m not saying you’re a perv or anything like that.”

“Ah. So, I’m an old, creepy perv. Got it.”

She slapped my arm and said, “Stop it, okay? I said you’re not a perv. I mean, maybe you are. Who knows, right? Not that I’d care if you were. I mean, I’m totally into pervy shit too.” She paused then, as if catching herself, and took a deep breath. “All I’m saying is, don’t you think her attitude about it is at least a little bit strange?”

I chuckled and said, “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Yeah, maybe. Okay, yes, the situation is a little unusual. I’ll admit that. But I can’t say that Erin’s attitude about it is all that weird. Not for her, at least. I don’t know about you, but I’ve heard that woman say some shit that you don’t normally hear coming out of a soccer mom’s mouth, you know what I’m saying?”

Courtney hesitated and then nodded her head. She knew exactly what I was talking about.

“Also, she and Clay have a pretty fucked up relationship to begin with. So, maybe for them, this all makes some kind of sense. I’m not really in a position to judge. One thing I do know for certain, though, is that Erin loves Ashley in her own way and wants what’s best for her. Shouldn’t that be a good thing?”

Courtney looked off to the side and nodded, almost imperceptibly and somewhat grudgingly. She didn’t seem completely convinced, but she didn’t have a good argument to refute what I’d said.

“Plus, I don’t think she sees me as an old, creepy perv the way you do.”

Courtney’s mouth came open and she gasped. Then she smirked and slapped me across the face. Not hard, but hard enough to make a loud noise. I feigned shock and she chortled and covered her mouth.

“You saucy little bitch,” I said with a smile, rubbing my cheek.

“Oh, did you like that, you creepy old pervert?” she shot back, then snorted a laugh.

“Maybe I did,” I said, still smiling.

“Well, maybe I’ll slap you again if you don’t start behaving.”

My smile slowly faded as we shared a look and a long silence until, finally, she grew uncomfortable and turned back to the TV.

“So, what are you watching, anyway?” she asked, trying to change the subject. I briefly glanced at the screen.

“Fuck I know. I couldn’t sleep, so I just put on whatever.”

“Ooh, I’ve seen this before. It’s good.” She turned more fully toward the screen.

“You want to watch it with me?”

She looked back as I scooted over underneath the covers and patted the empty side of the mattress.

“I don’t know,” she said, eyeing the spot. “It’s pretty late.”

I stacked a couple pillows and then laid back with my hands behind my head. “Well, I hope you at least feel a little better about this situation,” I said. “We can talk more about it in the morning if you want. Sleep tight, Courtney.”

“Yeah, sure. Good night.”

She lowered her head and fired off another couple messages. An explosion on the screen attracted her attention and she remained at the edge of the bed and continued watching the movie for a while. Then she scooched her butt backwards toward the pillows.

“Maybe just this one part,” she said, putting her phone on the nightstand next to mine.

We watched the movie together in silence. After a while, I noticed her draw her knees up to her chest and then wrap her arms around her legs to hug them. A shiver ran through her body. The AC blasted and the ceiling fan spun like a propeller.

“Hey, you mind if I turn the fan off?” she asked.

I still felt overheated from the coke and didn’t really want it off. “If you’re cold, why don’t you get under the covers?” I suggested.

Courtney continued to shiver for a while and then finally dug her toes underneath the top of the covers and pulled them over her legs. The action scene ended, and I half expected her to leave, but she didn’t. Instead, she slid down deeper underneath the covers and then turned to lay on her side, resting her head on the pillow near my armpit.

She slid her feet toward me, looking to tuck her cold toes underneath my leg, but when her knees touched my bare hip, she froze.

“Wait, are you...” She lifted the covers and then quickly dropped them again. “O-kay. You’re naked.”

“Shh. I can’t hear what they’re saying.”

We continued watching the movie in silence, but Courtney seemed distracted. I lowered my arm and draped it over her shoulder. She stiffened at first, but when I slowly dragged my fingers across her back, she relaxed and inched closer until her head rested in the crook of my shoulder.

“That feels good,” she said under her breath.

As the movie progressed, I subtly coaxed her body closer to mine. She responded first by draping her arm across my waist, then lifted her leg over mine. Soon, she had her body pressed tightly against me. My hand fell to her hip, and I traced along the waistband of her panties. She hummed softly and snuggled in even tighter, lifting her leg until the top of her thigh brushed against my balls.

My cock began to swell, and it only took a moment before it noticeably tented the covers, casting a triangular shadow in the raking light of the television. Courtney didn’t mention it or react at first, but I continued to grow until my erection had lifted the covers completely off my pelvis and it could no longer be ignored.

“What’s going on down here?” Courtney finally asked with a knowing tone. She lifted the covers and held them up to stare at my cock. “Are you thinking about sex right now?” she asked quietly without taking her eyes off it.

I glanced at myself and sighed, while my hand roamed over her back. The frustration from my earlier encounter with Erin, combined with my fatigue, had paradoxically worked to heighten my arousal. I was desperate to cum, but I didn’t want to scare her, so I picked my words carefully.

“You just ... feel really good right now,” I replied cryptically. “That’s all.”

Courtney slowly lowered the covers. She looked at me and her expression changed. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Do you...” she began, but then faltered.

“Do I what?”

“Do you think I’m ugly?”

I furrowed my brow, surprised by the question. “What?”

She looked away, embarrassed. “It’s alright if you do,” she said, softly. “Everybody else does.”

“No,” I replied as assuredly as I could. She looked at me to appraise my sincerity. “I don’t think you’re ugly, Courtney. Why would you even ask me that?”

She hesitated before answering. “You...” she began, and then let out a sigh. “Never mind. It’s so stupid.”

“Tell me anyway,” I implored, and when she hesitated, I added, “Please.”

“It’s just ... when I asked if you were thinking about sex, you said I ‘felt good.’”

“Yeah?”

“I felt good, but I don’t look good, right?”

I let out an exasperated huff because I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Courtney’s face clouded and she turned away.

“I get it,” she said bitterly. “Everyone says I look better in the dark, anyway.”

I laid there for a moment, speechless. Then I leaned over and flicked on the bedside lamp.

“Look at me, Courtney,” I said, and she did. In the dim light, the rims of her eyes were red and damp. “I like the way you look, okay? And I am attracted to you. Since the first time I saw you, I’ve been attracted to you.”

She looked like she wanted to believe me, but she wouldn’t allow herself to. “It’s okay,” she said. “You don’t have to say that.”

“Hey, don’t fucking dismiss me like that, Courtney. Why do you do that?” I asked, unable to keep the irritation from my voice. I felt like a dick for it, but I couldn’t help it.

“Do what?”

“Shit on yourself like that? You want to know what first attracted me to you?”

“My boobs, right?”

I laughed. “They’re great, but no. It was your confidence. When we first met, you acted like you didn’t give a shit about me or what I thought, but then you decided you wanted something from me, and you didn’t hesitate to take it.”