Chapter 56: Sunday, Oct. 7

Staci kissed me awake several minutes before 8 a.m., which was at least as good as waking up with Kacie or Arlene. The process of pulling her closer made me realize my shoulder still ached and that we were both nude except for her choker. I’d just have to wait to see if Marie would give me another massage.

Before things could get too far along, my phone rang. It was Mom. Of course.

“Mornin,’ Mom,” I mumbled into the phone as Staci pouted prettily. I don’t know what it was about that look that I found so sexy, but it made me want to turn it into a smile, preferably an orgasmic one.

“And just when were you going to tell me about getting ISS?” my mother demanded before I even finished my greeting.

Good Lord! It’d only been about 10 hours and I’d been asleep for nearly eight of that.

“When I come over to get my car,” I said. “Probably in the next couple of hours. Marshawn Taylor invited me to church. Besides, I had to get the girls home and I didn’t want to interrupt whatever you and Dad may have been doing last night.”

“Yes, well,” Mom stammered, making me think she and Dad may have been up to something other than a nightcap at the club; I didn’t want to know. “We’ll talk about it when you get here. You’d better get moving. Don’t wait until the last minute.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said as the call disconnected.

“What was that all about?” Staci smirked as she laid atop me, pushing those official C-cups into my chest with the Gucci pendant tickling my skin.

“My mother found out I got sent to ISS and is going to take a chunk out of my ass,” I said as the pretty cheerleader made it difficult to maintain coherent thought. “I’d better get a shower. She’s expecting me.”

“Mind if I tag along?” Staci giggled.

“For the shower or the ass chewing?” I replied with a grin.

“Let’s start with the shower,” Staci grinned back. “I don’t think I want to see your sexy ass have a chunk taken out of it.”

I rolled out of bed and helped the daughter of a very charismatic rich and powerful man to her feet. As she removed her choker and placed it on the dresser, I wondered if he was aware of where she’d spent the night or if that was all Mrs. Patterson’s doing. I’m sure he’d find out as soon as the security detail reported in.

I got the shower started and helped Staci step in as soon as the water was warm enough. She picked right up with what she was doing when Mom called.

“I hear you give pretty good shampoo jobs,” she cooed as she looped her arms around my neck.

“Really?” I grinned, gripping her by the hips and pulling her close. “What else have you heard?”

“That you have to get dirty before you can clean up,” she leered. “Wanna help me get dirty first?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

The ensuing duel of tongues was inconclusive, but I was quickly rising to the occasion. I spun Staci around to face the wall and got into position, crouching down to get things lined up. I didn’t lift her off her feet like I had Marie — Staci was a few inches taller than the little waif — but she had to get on tiptoes when I straightened up.

The cheerleader gasped as I grabbed a boob in each hand and went to work. Where last night had been more emotional, even bordering on spiritual, this was purely physical. Just two horny people getting their jollies on a Sunday morning.

Staci squealed and shuddered more than once as I pumped away. I fought through one of her orgasms and kept going. Dropping two loads last night, as well as the two with Marie before that, had taken the edge off.

The pretty brunette groaned and squeezed as she tried to remain upright. I tightened my grip and pressed her up against the wall as I hit the home stretch. I really needed to install one of those support bars for disabled people in here to give a girl something to hold on to.

With a roar, I unloaded inside her, causing her to tremble as one more little death struck. The wall supported us both as we battled for oxygen in the steamy confines.

“You got me all drippy,” she mock pouted as I slipped out, unleashing a stream of fluid. God, but I loved watching my come leak down a girl’s thighs after a good fuck in the shower.

“I guess we should fix that,” I panted, reaching for the showerhead.

Staci didn’t complain much as I directed the spray to wash her out. I think she was used to a different setting on her showerhead at home. This one just had a fine spray.

After that task was taken care of, I soaped us both up and started scrubbing, paying particular attention to Staci’s tits and tushy.

“You’ve never tried to go there,” she said as I scrubbed between her cheeks. “Bethany says you make it good.”

“I don’t do anything you may not want,” I said. “It’s not about what I want, it’s about what you enjoy.”

“And if I wanted to give it a try?”

“I’d advise you to talk to someone you trust, like Arlene,” I said. “I doubt this is something you’d be comfortable discussing with your mother. There’s more involved than just sticking it in. Besides, Morgan would kill me if she thought I pressured you into it. She doesn’t want to be the only one ‘holding out,’ as she put it.”

“I should probably wait until after football season,” Staci said. “I heard it hurts the first time. I wouldn’t want to mess up a cheer routine because I was too sore to jump.”

“That’s another reason,” I said, struggling to believe I was actually having a conversation about the finer points of anal sex with my Homecoming date. “Not that I know what it feels like to be on the receiving end. I just don’t want to give Miss Wilkes another reason to come after me.”

“She’d probably want to find out first-hand what it’s like,” the cheerleader giggled. “I’m surprised she hasn’t taken her shot by now.”

And I hope she never does, I thought. Staci must not be aware of Grandma’s lunch last week with the cheer coach and Kelli. I wasn’t going to tell her.

Staci handed me her shampoo bottle and practically melted against me as I worked up a lather, giving her a good scalp massage in the process.

“You are good at that,” she moaned sexily as I did my part. “You could make money doing it if you wanted.”

“Let me see what other career options are out there first,” I grinned. “My mother would take something more than a chunk of my ass if she thought I was a gigolo.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” the cheerleader giggled. “There’s a certain part I’d rather keep in working order. For a long, long time.”

Before I could decide if there was time to get dirty again, which would require further cleaning, a knock came on the bathroom door and Marie stuck her head in.

“Shoulda known,” the little waif muttered just loud enough for us to hear. “Staci, I put your clothes on the bed. I’m going to start breakfast. Is Bethany joining us?”

“I don’t know,” I called out. “Lemme finish up in here and I’ll go ask her.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Marie said, pulling the door closed, “but you should probably put on some clothes first.”

That set Staci off on another round of giggles as I reached for the showerhead to rinse the suds out of her hair. When I finished that task, I squirted a dab of her shampoo on my own head and worked up another lather as she stepped out to grab a towel. I was rinsed and ready to get out as the cheerleader moved to the sink to tend her hair, which she pulled into a ponytail with a scrunchy. Just in time. The water was starting to cool.

I dried off, brushed my teeth and ran a comb through my hair as Staci went to get dressed. I emerged from the bathroom to see her clad in a pair of jogging shorts and pulling a thin tanktop over her boobs. The outfit looked more suitable for sleepwear than something to wear out in public, especially with the way her nipples tented the fabric of the top.

“Scrambled eggs and bacon good for everyone?” Marie asked from the kitchen as I grabbed a clean pair of boxers from the dresser.

“Works for me,” I said.

“Sounds good,” Staci said as she sat on the bed, which had been stripped, to put on some sneakers. The fact she’d arranged for a change of clothes to be here this morning just reinforced the idea that she, at least, was edging closer to moving in to a greater extent.

I dressed in a fresh pair of khakis and another Oxford cloth shirt. I figured I could do without the blazer this morning — it was going to be another warm day — but went to the trouble of digging out another pair of socks to wear with my loafers. I mean, I was going to church this morning. Grandma would surely lecture me if I wasn’t dressed properly for the occasion.

Suitably attired, I headed for the main house to check on Bethany. The French windows on Jed’s room were unlocked and I was soon knocking on the door to the room where I’d had a recent assignation with Jan.

“Go ‘way,” the little blonde grumbled when I stuck my head into the room. She was snuggled under the covers with just the top of her head showing.

“I will, but I was told to see if you wanted breakfast,” I said. “Marie’s cooking scrambled eggs and bacon.”

Bethany flung the cover off, revealing that she was wearing a top similar to Staci’s, complete with pokies.

“OK,” she groaned, sitting up to expose a matching pair of jogging shorts. “Nan may not get here before lunch. If Marie’s cooking now, I may as well. I don’t think she’d let me use her kitchen without her approval after she’s cleaned everything up.”

Bethany slipped into a pair of those plastic sandals all girls seemed to have. It made me wonder how much she’d moved in here and how long it would be before some of those items resided in the apartment.

I gave her time to brush her teeth and run a comb through her hair, which she secured with a scrunchy. Except for the color of the clothes and scrunchies, Bethany and Staci were dressed almost identically. Must be a girl thing. I don’t think they would have gone to the trouble of coordinating outfits for this morning.

After receiving one hell of a wakeup kiss, I led the little blonde back to the apartment, where Staci was working on one of two plates sitting on the little table. The girls greeted each other with a hug and the blonde joined the brunette at the table, chattering away about how nice the dance had been until I got booted out.

“Do you mind eating at the counter, Daddy?” Marie, who was wearing one of her house dresses, asked as she filled a plate. “I brought an extra chair so you can sit down.”

“That’s just fine, baby,” I said, accepting the plate and a kiss.

I took my seat and dug in. Almost as if she could read my mind, Marie began massaging my left shoulder from behind me. Maybe not as good as skin-on-skin, but level of discomfort in the joint immediately lessened.

“Thank you, baby,” I said, making sure I’d swallowed my last bite before rewarding her with a kiss. “That feels much better.”

As Marie poured and handed me my glass of pineapple juice, it struck me that I was surrounded by three of my seven regular bed partners and they all seemed to be getting along. They even had their chokers on. I was glad to see my submissive bitch, who poured herself a cup of coffee and began asking about the dance, was integrating nicely with my high school girlfriends. Just another reason not to pursue more girls like Elise Stirling or Ny’Quesha Taylor.

I ate quickly and set my dishes in the sink. The microwave clock showed it was almost 9. I’d better go get the ass chewing over with.

“Ladies, as much as I hate to say it, I must be going,” I said, grabbing a smooch from all three. I noticed Bethany had used a lot of pepper on her eggs.

“Let me get my stuff and you can give me a ride home,” Staci said, rising from her seat and taking her plate to the sink. “I don’t think Daddy would appreciate me making the walk of shame through the neighborhood. Especially dressed like this and carrying the dress I wore last night.”

“He probably wouldn’t,” I muttered as the other two girls giggled at the image that invoked.

I made sure I had sling, wallet, keys, phone, shades while Staci gathered her things. I noticed the stockings, underwear and pumps from last night went into a little bag that may have contained what she was wearing now. I almost expected a garment bag for the dress, but she just draped it over an arm.

“Let’s go,” she chirped, hooking an arm and turning for the door.

“Later, girls,” I called out over my shoulder.

“Bye, Daddy,” Marie called back, while Bethany looked like she was ready to get another hour or two of sleep. I think the little blonde was about as much a morning person as my sister.

I opened the passenger door on the Rover and held Staci’s dress as she got in, handing it back once she was buckled in.

“Would you mind pulling around back to the garage?” she asked as I backed down the drive. “That’ll cut down on any neighbors seeing me. I just thought high school girls were gossipy. Some of the old biddies around here would swear I was seven months along if they saw me getting home at this time of morning.”

“At least it’s not a school day,” I snarked as I reached the street, shifted gears and started heading toward her house.

It turned out to be a wise decision. Not only were several neighborhood residents out for their morning constitutionals, there were two rather expensive cars still parked in the Pattersons’ front drive. Looks like ol’ George was still entertaining.

Staci reached into her bag and hit what must have been a garage door opener as I pulled around back. With one more smooch, she gathered up her things and got out.

“Try not to lose too much of your ass,” she smirked as she stepped onto the pavement. “Love you.”

The door clunked shut before I could reply and she scurried inside. It was like these girls were afraid I’d say I didn’t love them if they didn’t get away immediately after making their declarations.

With nothing better to do, I began the trek home. If Mom left enough of me, a preacher’s daughter was expecting me to take her to lunch in the Beemer.

I pulled the Rover into its spot next to the Z4, which had the top down. I could’ve sworn I’d raised it yesterday before taking the girls shopping. I hope Kacie left enough fuel in it to get to a pump.

Mom was waiting in the kitchen. She was not amused.

“Well?” she asked with a raised eyebrow as she took a sip of coffee. I really wished I could do that, but the muscles in my forehead weren’t coordinated enough.

“I don’t know how much you’ve heard or how much of that may be true,” I began, “but the gist is some kid took a swing at me and Mrs. Montero kicked me out of the dance and told me to report to ISS on Monday. I plan on appealing, but I need to look up how in the student handbook.”

“And why did this boy take a swing at you?” Mom asked.

I related the events as best as I remembered — the very young girl claiming she had to go home, hiding behind me, recognition, confrontation, et cetera.

“And this is the same boy who was bothering Stephanie Tucker?” she asked with a little too much twinkle in her eyes. “So, when are you going out with this Mikayla?”

“Not in this lifetime,” I groused. “She’s barely older than Kinsey. I think they may even have a class or two together.”

“Is Mrs. Montero going to continue to be a problem?” Mom asked. “I heard what happened at Arlene’s Friday night. She must really be submissive to just switch off like she did. What did you say to her, anyway? My Spanish is a little rusty.”

“I told her to back off because we weren’t at school,” I admitted. “I threatened to punish her. She asked me not to do it in public.”

“Would you have?” Mom asked. “Publicly or privately?”

“If I thought that was my only option,” I said. “The woman needs someone to take control of her, I just didn’t want it to be me. I may have found a solution. We’ll see Monday morning.”

“Oh?” Again with the arched eyebrow.

“I think Mr. Dunwoody, the fellow in charge of ISS, could be the type of man she needs,” I said as a blush crept across my face. “He certainly doesn’t have a problem disciplining students. I ordered Mrs. Montero to talk to him and to tell him everything. I have no idea if she did, though.”

“I guess you’ll find out tomorrow,” Mom said, taking another sip of coffee to hide the smirk. “One other thing, your sister took your car for her date with Danny last night. I told her she had to drive and the gas tank had better be full this morning. Your grandmother told me how much you spent on those girls yesterday when she called to say she’d cover it for you. I can’t understand how you can be that soft a touch one moment and so stern the next.”

“I try not to think about it too much,” I said. “I just do what needs to be done in a given situation. Same thing with that kid I hit Friday night.”

I’m not real sure my mother bought all that, but it did appear I would be getting out of here with my ass and other body parts more or less intact. At least Staci would be pleased.

“Have you had any breakfast?” Mom asked. “You still have a little time before church.”

“Marie cooked some bacon and eggs for me,” I said, omitting the fact the little waif had also cooked for Staci and Bethany.

“Well, do something about your hair,” she commanded. “It looks like you just toweled it dry and left it sticking up all over.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, taking the opportunity to escape.

I entered my room to find Kacie in my bed. I don’t know what Mom would have to say about that if she knew and didn’t want to be caught in the middle when she found out. Besides, Mom would argue that my sister needed to get up so she could stay on schedule for school.

“You’d better get up, sweetie,” I said, shaking my sister by a shoulder. “It’s after 9:30 and you know what Mom will say if you sleep too late.”

“I was just getting back to sleep,” Kacie grumbled, swatting in my general direction. “I already got up and had breakfast.”

I left her to her fate and went to attempt to get my hair under control. I must have made too much noise as I searched for Kacie’s hairspray because she staggered into the bathroom a moment later.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” she mumbled. “I thought you were staying at the apartment for the next couple of weeks.”

“I came home to get my car because the Taylors invited me to church this morning,” I said as I ran some water over my comb. “Mom told me to fix my hair.”

“Let me,” Kacie said, taking the comb and retrieving hairspray from a drawer I would swear I’d already searched. “And why do you need your car for church?”

“Because Ny’Quesha expects me to take her for lunch in it after the service,” I said.

“You really are going to need a bigger vehicle,” my sister smirked sleepily. “Where are you taking her?”

“She expressed an interest in Familia Benavidez,” I said as Kacie commenced to spritz and comb. “I told her I’d need to talk to her parents first.”

“You’d better hope Antonia’s not working lunch today,” Kacie said, smirking so hard I was afraid her face might crack. “There, that ought to hold through church. You’re on your own if Ny’Quesha gets you alone, though.”

And I was going to do everything in my power to assure that didn’t happen. Maybe Marshawn would be in the mood for Mexican food.

Kacie grabbed her morning kiss before sending me on my way. I wouldn’t say I was eager, but maybe Dr. Taylor could intervene on my behalf. It was just a matter of whether I’d still be alive by then.

Surprisingly, the Beemer’s fuel gauge was on F as I cranked up and the clutch was still working as I shifted into reverse. Driving a standard with the sling still took some concentration, but it wasn’t like I had to shift gears that much. I was able to make most of the trip to the AME Church in third gear, rarely getting up to even 40 mph, and pulled into the parking lot around 10:15.

Some threatening clouds convinced me to raise the top and I headed inside to learn my fate. Marshawn was waiting in the foyer and took me in hand as the congregation began filling the sanctuary.

“How’s the shoulder?” he asked. “Ny’Quesha said you hurt it again last night.”

“It’s about where it was when I went to treatment yesterday,” I said. “But I should probably avoid getting hit on that side again.”

“Just make sure I don’t have to,” the linebacker snarled. “My little sister told me she’s takin’ ya to lunch. Eatin’ lunch better be all you do.”

“Not a problem, Marshawn,” I said. “In fact, it wouldn’t hurt my feelings if you wanted to tag along.”

“Got somethin’ else goin’ on,” he growled, “otherwise I’d be more than happy to let ya buy me lunch.”

We took seats in the middle of a pew about a third of the way from the pulpit. It was almost like my teammate didn’t want me to have an easy escape route. I only drew a few curious looks from the worshipers around us.

The organist soon got things started and the musical portion of the service followed the same script as on my previous visit. Dr. Taylor gave the opening prayer, followed by a couple more songs, another prayer and the offering — I had a Lincoln in my shirt pocket just for the occasion — before commencing on his sermon taken from the Book of Job.

I tried to listen intently, but kept getting distracted by some of the looks Ny’Quesha gave me from the choir loft. At least I think they were intended for me. She may just smile like that at everybody. I wondered if she was aware the entire congregation could see her. I’m sure Marshawn would let me know if anything was less than appropriate.

At the end of the service, Dr. Taylor took a few minutes to chat will all the little old ladies as they made their way out. There were a lot of little old ladies in attendance today. It was after 11:45 before the pastor turned to me.

“How are you doing, young man?” he asked, grabbing my right hand.

“As well as I could hope, sir,” I said.

“What did Doc have to say about your shoulder?” the preacher asked, placing a hand on my left shoulder like he was getting a feel for things.

I told him pretty much what the trainer told me, that no decision on my availability would be made for a few days and that I would be fitted with a harness to keep things in place.

Dr. Taylor led me back toward the pulpit, where the rest of his family and a few other church members awaited us. I noticed Mrs. Taylor and Ny’Quesha had divested themselves of their choir robes.

Dr. Taylor directed me to kneel before him and placed both hands on my left shoulder. I swear I felt a spark similar to when I’d asked Benny’s cousin to dance last night. I was surprised when some of the other churchgoers also placed hands on my shoulders, back and head. I’m sure it was just coincidence that Marshawn’s hand was placed on the back of my neck. I just hoped he didn’t try to wring it.

As Dr. Taylor began praying, with the occasional “Hallelujah!” and the odd “Amen, Brother!” from the others, it seemed like my shoulder began feeling better than it had even after Marie’s massage Friday night. I did manage to stay awake this time, though. It probably helped that I wasn’t lying in a bed.

Say what you want about religion and some of the practices people believe in. I wasn’t about to complain about a group who seemed to sincerely want me to be healed of my injury doing what they could to make it happen. The worst case was I’d be no better off than when I entered the building an hour or so earlier.

Who knows? It might actually help. Although I think I’d rather have such a blessing bestowed upon someone like Sherry Parker. The world would keep turning whether I played football again or not.

At the final amen, Dr. Taylor placed his hand atop my head. It felt like more synapses began firing at his touch. Maybe that’d help me study this afternoon.

The pastor helped me to my feet as the others backed off and began to depart. I really did feel better.

“Thank, you, sir,” I said, shaking his hand. “Do you have a moment to talk privately?”

“I certainly do,” he smiled, “especially if it’s about what I think it’s about.”

He walked me back toward the door the choir used to enter the sanctuary, far enough away from his wife and children to not be overheard as long as we didn’t start shouting. I was determined not to let it get to that point.

“This is about my daughter, isn’t it?” he asked quietly, giving me his best Samuel L. Jackson stare.

“Yes, sir,” I said, managing not to wilt under his gaze. “I just want to make sure what the ground rules are. She said she has enough money to pay, but that’s not necessary.”

“I’ve heard some interesting things about you,” the reverend said as we stepped through the doorway into a little hallway. “Like I told you last time we spoke, I trust you to help her make the right decision.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Have her home by 1:30,” Dr. Taylor said with a hint of a twinkle in his eyes. “That’ll give you some time together, but not too much. I’ll deal with Marshawn, but I think my wife wouldn’t be against Ny’Quesha seeing you on a regular basis. Reba likes you for some reason.”

I can’t imagine why. I’d spoken with the woman maybe twice in my life.

“Ready for lunch?” Ny’Quesha asked as we returned to an almost empty sanctuary.

“Yes, ma’am,” I smiled, offering her my right arm and earning a scowl from Marshawn.

The pretty girl accepted my arm, bade her parents farewell and dragged me toward the exit. At least she was dragging me away from the altar. I didn’t want to imagine her brother’s reaction should the opposite ever occur.

I walked Ny’Quesha to the Beemer and held the passenger door for her, receiving a sweet smile as she slid gracefully into the seat.

She’d done something different with her hair, which had been pulled back into a tight bun all the other times I’d seen her, even last night. Today, it hung loose almost to her shoulders but still looked natural. It didn’t look like she’d applied any product, more like combed it out to an almost excessive extent. It was a style I thought suited her.

She was modestly attired, as one might expect of a preacher’s daughter at church. Her shortsleeved knit dress wasn’t quite form-fitting, but it didn’t obscure her figure. The garment had a fairly high neckline, exposing her collar bones but no cleavage. The skirt came a little below the knee, but not so much as to totally conceal those runner’s legs. It actually flowed loosely, similar to the dresses the girls wore yesterday for our shopping trip.

And for a sophomore, she had a very nice figure, a little curvier than Erin Bennett but still slender. Her breasts were large enough that I bet she required a heavy-duty sports bra when running track. I don’t know how much was genetics and how much was exercise, but her butt made almost a perfect semicircle when viewed from the side.

I’d better behave myself. I might be able to dodge Marshawn on the football field, but fire and brimstone was another matter.

“Can we put the top down?” she asked as I climbed in behind the wheel.

“Better not,” I said as I cranked up. “It looks like it’s going to rain any minute now. Your parents probably wouldn’t appreciate me bringing you home soaking wet.”

Ny’Quesha pouted prettily — almost as prettily as Staci, I thought — in disappointment as I put the car in gear.

“So, Familia Benavidez?” I asked as I steered toward the parking lot exit.

“Yes,” Ny’Quesha said with a bright smile. “Your si ... I mean, a friend told me it’s really good. Have you been there?”

Not in the last 17 hours or so, I thought, her little slip not going unnoticed. I’m sure there’s something on the menu I haven’t tried yet.

“I used to work with some folks who work there, so I’ve been there,” I said.

“What do you recommend?” she asked.

“Pretty much anything on the menu,” I said. “I have yet to have anything that was less than delicious. It just depends what you’re in the mood for — beef, pork, chicken, even seafood.”

“Is it spicy?” she asked.

“I guess that depends on your definition,” I said. “I’m pretty sure they tone it down from what they’d make at home, but I’ve never had a problem. You’ll just have to ask our waitperson for advice.”

Our conversation was interrupted by my phone ringing just as I pulled up to a red light. I gripped the steering wheel with my left hand and fished the phone out of my shirt pocket with my right to see the call was from Jed.

“This is Gary,” I said as the call connected to the car’s Bluetooth.

“Where you at, dude?” he asked. “I’ve got pizza and it’s almost time for the noon games.”

“I’ve got a lunch date,” I said, causing Ny’Quesha to giggle. “I should be there by 2. See if Marie’s around. Tell her I said it’s OK for you to go in. She can call me if she doesn’t believe you.”

“Ya oughta just give me a key,” my buddy groused. “You know the only time I’d use it is to watch football.”

Yeah, that wouldn’t cause me any problems at all. Except for those Sundays when Marie or Erin Aguilar required my attention.