Chapter 34

"I think I know the lyrics to the song."
-M. Monroe

Perhaps it was due to my healthy sex life, but erotic dreams were few and far between these days. However, Sunday morning I was having a vivid one. I was in health class, and Mrs. Frisk was covering oral sex. When she asked for volunteers to demonstrate fellatio, Traci's hand shot into the air and was chosen. Marge, who was sitting next to Traci, stuck out her tongue at her daughter and called her a brat. When Traci and I got to the front of the classroom, Traci sank to her knees and began to suck my cock. We did not have to worry about undressing, since the entire class was naked. As I looked around the room, I realized that I was the only guy there and enjoyed the view while Traci gave me head. To my disappointment, the podium that Mrs. Frisk had been lecturing behind had shifted, restricting my view of her from her breasts up; a small link chain hung from her nipple rings.

The image of the classroom slowly faded from my mind as I woke up, but the wonderful sensation of my cock being sucked remained. I then realized why the clarity of my dream had been so real: my impish girlfriend was giving me a morning blowjob. Keeping my eyes closed, I savored the way Traci's mouth worked its magic on me. Her tongue would trace around the crown of my cock before engulfing me; the combination of her fist pumping me in rhythm with the bobbing of her head. After a minute of this, her hand released its hold on my cock, and I felt my cock effortlessly slide down her throat.

The ease that my cock had gone down the throat caused me to open my eyes. Traci always had difficulty deepthoating me, and there were times I had to stop her from trying, lest she end up hurting herself. Rarely had she been successful on the first attempt, and I could not recall her ever being successful on the first try in the position that we were in. My suspicions were confirmed when I saw Lori's lips wrapped around my cock.

Lori looked up and noticed that I was awake. After she had cleared her throat, she softly said, "Happy Birthday, Master."

Correction, it was not my friend, Lori, who was giving me head, but my sex slave, Slave. I had been awake for less than five minutes, and I had already made two mistakes. Before I was given a chance to say anything, Slave renewed her oral ministrations, only this time with more vigor since she knew I was awake.

When I reached down to Slave's head, she took her hands away from my cock and caught my wrists. Still with my cock in her mouth, she guided my arms to rest on the bed beside me. She held my wrists for a few seconds before releasing them and returning her hands to my member. I got the message loud and clear: she wanted me to leave her alone while she gave me my birthday present. I was amused that she had used the same silent technique to communicate to me that I had used on her.

As I savored the sensations I was feeling, I glanced to my right and saw that my girlfriend was still asleep. A sound sleeper, I was unsure if I should wake her up or not. The condition that Traci had set for when I was sexually active with Marge or Lori/Slave was that she be present. I doubted being unconscious is what she had in mind when she made that rule. As I debated the pros and cons on letting my sweetheart slumber, I felt a familiar twinge in my groin. A groan was the only forewarning I was able to give Slave as the first blast of cum shot into her waiting mouth. I clenched the bed sheets as I came, and I only released my grip after I had finished. Slave was diligent in making sure to collect all of it; a minute was spent slowly licking my slowly deflating cock, gathering any that she had let slip out.

"How did you know today was my birthday?" I asked as she started to get off of the bed.

"Susan, Master," Slave replied with a grin.

Even with her cryptic answer, I knew what she meant. Last week, our report cards had arrived and Traci had pointed out that Rose's was missing. Rose had to remind her that her report card was sent to her house, since the school did not know that she was living with me. The next day, Lori had presented her with a duplicate report card. Lori had explained that her friend, Susan Ramirez, was an office aide during third period and was able to get access to student records. I gathered that Rose's report card was not the only thing Lori had asked Susan for.

After Slave was out of the bed, she replaced the covers that she had removed from me and, after giving me one last smile, she strode out of the room. As I lay in bed, I pondered how I was going to spend the rest of my first birthday. Excluding the problem with the mistaken identity, it had started off with a bang ('blow').

Back at the Agency, we did not have birthdays. The closest thing to a 'birthday' that we had was October First, the first day of the fiscal year and the day we were hired (acquired). Even then, that day was deceptive, since the babies that made up a batch were usually brought in over that year. However, for recordkeeping purposes most likely, a baby brought in on September Thirtieth would be credited with one year of service the next day and have the same amount of seniority - and pay - as one who had been brought in eleven months earlier.

I came to the conclusion that I would treat that day as if it were any other Sunday, so after watching my girlfriend's angelic face for a few minutes, I got out of bed. After a quick jaunt to the bathroom, I got dressed and left the bedroom.

"Happy Birthday, Chad," Rose greeted me as soon as I had exited the bedroom hallway.

I winced and asked, "Did Lori tell you it was my birthday?"

Grinning and shaking her head, Rose replied, "Nope, you did, just now."

'Baka, ' I silently cursed at myself. I should have known that neither Lori nor Slave would have betrayed my confidence. Still, it was rather odd that Rose had picked that day of all days to wish me a happy birthday, so I asked, "What made you think that it was today?"

"Well," Rose explained, "the first clue that it was coming up was the letter from the car insurance company that came for you."

I found myself rolling my eyes. When I had approached Marge about taking me down to the Department of Motor Vehicles for my driving test, she had asked me about car insurance. I had told her I was planning on either getting a surety bond for $35,000 or just depositing the money with the DMV. I thought it was a complete waste of money to have to pay the premiums that the insurance companies were asking for coverage of a sixteen-year-old male. If I was ever sued because of an accident, I was relativity safe since the bulk of my money was in hidden offshore accounts. I guessed the government felt differently, perhaps since the house was listed under my name, because in less than a week, I received the letter from an auto insurance company that Rose had seen which included a policy in my name, as well as coverage for Marge and Lori, paid for by my 'parents'.

"What else?" I asked.

"This morning I saw Slave -- at least I think it was Slave; I don't usually see Lori walking around naked," Rose paused and looked at me for confirmation. Already having betrayed that it was my birthday, I decided to keep my expression neutral. Seeing that, she took that as a yes and continued, "Anyway, I saw her coming out from the hallway, and she had the look of 'the cat that just swallowed the canary'. Actually, she looked more like 'the stealthy, seductive sex slave who swallowed some smelly sticky semen'."

I stared at my friend in disbelief for a few seconds before two short snorts escaped from me. Instead of trying to hold back my laughter, I let it go, and she joined in. When I finally recovered, I told her, "Man, that was just soooo bad. I loved it."

Her grin seemed as wide as mine must have been. "Thanks. I had a few minutes to work on it," she confessed. Removing her hands from behind her back, she presented me with a gift.

"Is it okay to open it?" I asked, and after she nodded, I carefully unwrapped the present. She had given me the 'Firefly' series on DVD, something that I had wanted to have as soon as I had found out about it. "Thank you," I said as I gave my redheaded friend a warm hug.

"I had better get started on breakfast. Oh, I think Michelle might have told you, but while the pilot was shot first, it was the last episode to air. You might want to watch that one first," Rose told me after we had broken our hug.

"Okay. Thanks for reminding me."

After loading up the DVD player, I sat down on the couch and turned on the plasma. 'I am only going to watch the pilot episode, ' I told myself; the memory of the zombie I had turned into during winter break still haunted me. After ten minutes, I had already convinced myself that watching two episodes would not lead to the end of the world. The combination of witty dialogue and good action made me think that Joss Whedon's shows were as addictive as smoking.

I had been watching close to half an hour when Traci joined me on the couch. So engrossed into the show, I only noticed her when she walked in front of me. My girlfriend was not a morning person, and she practically collapsed beside me. I pressed the pause button on the remote as she snuggled up to me, my right arm instinctively wrapping itself around her shoulders. I gave her left temple a quick kiss that earned me an appreciative grunt.

Resuming the movie, I figured that Traci was going to drift off to sleep again. However, less than a minute later, she bolted upright and was wide-awake. Turning to me, she demanded, "What are you watching?!?"

Hitting the pause button again, I answered, "Firefly."

Rolling her eyes at my glib answer, she turned back to the plasma. Spotting the DVD case and wrapping paper on the coffee table, she asked, with an icy tone in her voice, "Did Rose give that to you?"

I nodded cautiously and answered her next probable question, "Today's my birthday."

When Traci started to get up, I caught her arm and pulled her back down. I was afraid that she was going to go and confront her friend over the issue and wanted to nip it in the bud, fast. "Traci, I am truly sorry that I did not tell you that today was my birthday. I just wanted the day to go by without anybody making a big deal about it. My family, we don't really celebrate birthdays, so it is not that important to me. Honestly, September Thirteenth holds the most meaning to me."

Traci's anger seemed to defuse slightly as I explained myself. I could see her fighting a smile when she asked, "Why that day?"

"Because that is the day that I met Marge and Lori and... oh, hmm. Darn, there was a third person I met, but I can't remember her name..."

"Fran?" Rose not-so-helpfully supplied. There I was, trying to prevent my girlfriend from going off and getting into a fight with one of her best friends, and she comes along to provoke her. I was taken aback when Traci just shook her head.

"No, I know who he's talking about. He's talking about that saintly girl who has an asshole for a boyfriend," Traci said after a moment's pause.

"The beautiful, saintly, 'forgiving' girl?" I asked.

Traci nodded and started to get up again. My hand was still on her arm, so she told me, "Relax, I'm just going to go get your present."

As I let go of her arm, Rose announced, "By the way, I came in here to tell you that breakfast is ready."

I stood up as well, but before Traci went back to retrieve the gift, I pulled her into a hug and apologized one more time. "I'm sorry. It was selfish of me to not tell you when my birthday was. I'll try to be more considerate to you in the future." Traci ended our embrace with a hard whack on my ass.

"One down, fifteen more to go," she said to me with a grin.

Traci's entrance was not the only thing that I had missed when I was watching 'Firefly'. Marge, Lori, and Pollyanna were already in the kitchen, and I had not even noticed them come down the stairs. It had taken considerable effort on my part to suppress my constant urge to be aware of my surroundings, but I had been able to do it. Perhaps I had begun to let my guard down too much; the feeling of security in the home was too alluring. I was no longer living in a house, but a home with family: Marge, Lori, Traci, and Rose.

When Traci came into the kitchen, she handed me the gift and wished me, "Happy goddamned Birthday." There was a trace of humor in her voice, so I unwrapped her present to me.

"Thanks, my love," I told her as she sat down next to me at the table. She had given me the first season of 'Angel' on DVD.

As we began to take food off of the serving platters on the table, Traci asked Rose, "How did you find out today was his birthday?"

"Oh, 'a little birdie told me'." When I let out a little snort of laughter, Rose added, "I guess the cat is out of the bag, so I might as well tell you."

"Are you okay?" Traci asked me. I guessed the sound of me as I tried to restrain my laughter must have sounded like I was choking. When she spotted that there was nothing on my plate, she gave me a suspicious look before turning her attention back to Rose.

Rose remained quiet and looked at me for permission. Her little puns were meant for me, but they had also led to her betraying my confidence. I was not much help when I just shrugged my shoulders. Guardedly, Rose said, "I saw somebody after they had given their present to Chad."

Curiosity was one of my girlfriend's strong traits, and I had a feeling that it might have been better just to say who she had seen. However, I had left the ball in Rose's court and she had played it the best she saw fit. Instead of rallying it back to Rose, Traci opted to shift her attention to the other women around the table.

"Slave gave her master his birthday present," Lori confessed, breaking down under the stare her sister had been giving her.

"If you knew that today was his birthday, why didn't you tell me?" ask Traci.

"Master did not want his birthday to be known, Master's Girlfriend."

"Cut the crap, Lori; you're not Slave. Slave wouldn't be dressed and eating with us at the table; she'd be naked, on all fours, and eating her food out of a dish on the floor," Traci pointed out.

Standing up, the girl that Traci had been addressing reached back and began to unzip her dress. Confused, I was not sure if it was Lori or Slave, but I knew one way to end it. "'Graffiti Bridge'," and Lori immediately sat back down. "While I might not have wanted my birthday to be known, it is and I would rather spend the day with my friends. Don't get me wrong, I like Slave, but I like Lori ten times more."

"Nine point six," Lori corrected me.

It seemed that the morning was revolving around inside references and I gave her a warm smile. Even perplexity over Lori's statement did not detour Traci when she pointed out, "Today's Chad's birthday, not Master's. Wouldn't his be the same as Slave's?

Shaking her head, Lori explained, "Slave might have been born only recently, but Chad was born a master."

I do not think Traci bought Lori's logic (even I thought it was a bit of a stretch), but she let the matter drop. Instead, she pondered aloud, "Am I the only one here who didn't know that it was my boyfriend's birthday?"

"I thought it might be tomorrow, but it could just have been easily been today or yesterday," Marge said. Since I had asked for her to have the day off to chauffer me around, it had only been fair to tell her why. Actually, I had a few surprises left up my sleeve that I did not want to reveal to her.

Pollyanna told Traci, "Hey, I didn't know at all. I would have thought my girlfriend would have given me some warning." Pollyanna then gave Rose an archly inquisitive look.

"Master did not want his birthday to be known," parroted Rose.

Scoffing, Pollyanna observed, "You're the maid, remember?"

Shaking her head, she said, "I'm a slave as well, Master's Other Slave's Girlfriend." With that, she stood up and began to undo her blouse. I was ever so tempted to see how far she was going to carry out the charade, but I said, "'Graffiti Bridge'." When Rose pretended not to hear me, I realized that obviously the same warning/stop phrase would not work on her. Racking my mind, I tried to think of other Prince songs that it could be. She had reached her final button and had started to pull the blouse out of her pants when I cried, "'Peaches and Cream'." It was a far stretch, but it was one of the few titles I could recall that had a name of a flower.

Grinning, Rose resumed her seat to everybody else's laughter. I do not know how much was due to her antics and how much was related to the panic in my voice when I shouted out the safety phrase. Like Lori, she did not do anything to recertify her current state of (un)dress. I made a concerted effort to keep my eyes above the neckline, but even then, I could not help but to notice she was sans bra. Turning to her girlfriend, she informed her, "Your gift for Chad is upstairs. I snuck it out with me last time I was at your house."

Pollyanna gave her girlfriend a warm smile and they shared a brief kiss. It seemed that a nonverbal agreement was made that we should eat breakfast before it got any colder. After we finished eating and helped cleared the table, Rose announced, "I'm going to bake a birthday cake and then start making Valentine chocolates. You okay with angel food, Chad?"

After I nodded my approval, Traci suggested, "I can give Michelle a call and see if she can come over."

"Big surprise," observed her sister, "you wanting to use the phone."

"Come on now," I chided. "She just wants to be the first to tell Michelle that it's my birthday."

It actually looked like my girlfriend had not thought of that, because her eyes grew wide and she dashed to the kitchen phone. Everybody wisely stayed clear of her short path and she was talking to Michelle in less than ten seconds. Marge and Lori started washing the dishes while Pollyanna and Rose began preparations to bake the cake. Almost as soon as Traci hung up the phone, the doorbell rang.

"Damn, that was fast. You call her on her cell phone?" I joked.

Shaking her head, Traci joined me in investigating who was at the door. I was startled when I found out that it was Chuck, David, Mike, John and Fran at the door. It was just over ten hours since I had last seen them; our game had been cut short because of Bill having to work both his jobs today. When I had offered to let the rest of the guests to stay over, only Pollyanna had stayed -- it had been her turn to stay Saturday night with Rose. Everybody else claimed to be busy Sunday morning.

"What's up?" I greeted them as they quickly came in from the pouring rain.

As they began to remove their jackets, John answered, "Not much. We had some time to kill and thought we'd swing by."

Glancing around at my friends' faces, I grew suspicious. I could sense they were hiding something, but when I shifted my focus back to John, he appeared as unreadable as ever. If something was up, they most likely chose him to be their spokesman since he could bluff so convincingly. However, even his defenses crumbled slightly when Rose stuck her head out of the kitchen to see what was going on.

"Oh my," Mike uttered when he saw Rose. Everybody's attention turned to the redhead, and they saw that her blouse was unbuttoned. Blushing, Rose began to quickly button up her shirt, though I think she would have had less scrutiny if she would have turned around or retreated back into the kitchen. Fran must have thought that it was not something that Chuck should be watching, because she gave him a dope slap. Chuck begrudgingly turned his head away, but I could see him still watching out of the corners of his eyes.

Once the little show was over, I invited my new guests into the living room. Fran went to the kitchen while everybody else settled down. There was an awkward silence, so I started to repeat my earlier question when Marge called out for me from the kitchen. Excusing myself, I got up only to find Traci falling in at my side. When I entered the kitchen, I found Fran standing next to Marge and Lori at the sink.

"Chad," Marge said while she was washing a plate, "Fran wants to borrow my ski boots, but I can't remember where I put them. You seem good at recalling where we put the stuff; any idea where they could be?

Closing my eyes, I pictured Marge's red ski boots. It took a few seconds for me to visualize where they had ended up. "They're in a box labeled 'Ski EQ' on the third shelf of the garage's storeroom. Should be near the golf clubs."

Opening my eyes, I saw Marge nodding and shaking the water off her hands. "Thanks, Chad," she said to me as she reached for a towel.

Stopping her, I said, "I'll get them for you."

"No, it's okay, I can do it," Marge protested, but I had already started moving towards the garage door. "Thanks," Marge added as I left the kitchen.

Since I had already pictured where the boots were, the hardest part of retrieving them was maneuvering around the boxes we had stacked up in there. The Caspars' stuff was divided into four different locations: the garage's storeroom, garage, attic, and at an offsite rental locker -- which mainly housed their large appliances. I was not too surprised that Marge had forgotten where her ski boots had ended up.

When I left the storeroom with boots in hand, I found Marge waiting for me in the garage. When I handed the boots to her, she explained, "I was pretty much done with the dishes." Looking around the garage, she said, "I should really look into getting rid of some of this junk."

I just shrugged at Marge's comment. I did not think any of their possessions were junk. Well, there was a lamp made out of a female mannequin's leg (with a stocking and high heel shoe), but even that was merely garish and not really junk. "You sure?" I asked.

"Yeah, I am. When we first moved in, part of me thought it might be a mistake, but I feel comfortable now. I think I held onto most of this stuff as a security blanket, just in case it did not work out with us living with you. It's time that I bite the bullet and got rid of some of it."

"I don't know," I said with a smile, "Traci might realize what a jerk I am and break up with me."

Shaking her head, Marge said, "Even then, it will be two against one. You'll have to do something really stupid to lose me as an ally; even then, I bet you'll still have Lori's support." After pausing for a few seconds, she added, "Unless you are thinking about asking us to leave."

I fervently shook my head, saying, "You and your family are welcome to stay here as long as I own the house. I did tell you that I will be selling the house in five years, but even then, I'll make sure to buy one large enough for the four of us."

"Okay, that settles it. Depending on the weather, we'll try to have a garage sale next weekend. After all, I am sure you'll want to be able to park your new car in the garage."

The garage was easily large enough to park two cars comfortably, but since we had converted it into storage space, only one car could fit. "Sounds good to me," I told her.

Marge replied, "Oh, that reminds me, I talked to Dr. Hong for you."