Chapter 5

I kissed my parents, with the mouth that just gave five blowjobs. Ken said hello and goodbye and rushed home. I saw him carrying his camera and camera bag. I hope Tyler remembered to erase his memory cards after he uploaded the pictures.

He may trust Ken. But I know that above all else, Ken is a boy. I don’t trust him not to show my pictures around or post them somewhere on the internet if he’s allowed to keep them.

While my parents were making a drink I suggested we call out for pizza and they thought that sounded like a good idea. I’m not all that hungry and I don’t feel like cooking. Neither does mom.

Tyler called up and placed our standard pizza order. While waiting to eat we sat around the dining room table and talked for a while. It seemed like it took Tyler a few minutes to settle down and pay attention. But after he settled down we sat around and my parents suggested we play pinochle after we eat. Our parents taught us to play when we were much younger and we enjoy it. We usually play girls against boys. My dad is a very good player. He always seems to know what everyone has in their hand. But mom and I win a lot because Tyler has a bad habit of overbidding when he gets a mediocre hand. It’s all in fun, though. It isn’t like we’re playing for money. Nobody gets upset.

The next day was dedicated to yard work and housework. Our parents could easily afford to hire people to do those things. But they feel it’s important we do them as a family. All but the pool. We keep the leaves out of the pool but they hired a man to come over and clean it and keep it up.

Tyler and I are no more ambitious than any other teenager. We wouldn’t mind if they hired people to do everything. But we’ve been doing these chores since we were old enough and we understand why our parents make us do chores. I suppose we even grudgingly agree it’s a good idea. We have enough friends who are spoiled rotten. We’re glad that we weren’t raised that way.

I help mom inside the house. Tyler and dad do the yard work. We have a ten-acre lot but all but two acres of it is allowed to grow wild. A lot of those two acres are taken up by our large pool, huge house and gigantic garage and driveway so the yard work really isn’t that daunting. Tyler says the hardest part, or at least the most tedious part, is all the edging.

I do the laundry, vacuum and dust upstairs, the jobs that are normally my responsibility every weekend. Mom is responsible for the downstairs and the family room in the basement. I clean our bathroom and since I usually finish before she does I usually go down and clean the downstairs bathrooms, too.

We were finished by around two that afternoon. Mom and I got cleaned up and went grocery shopping. While we were shopping mom said, “I’ve been thinking. You guys have been doing well in school and your father and I are really impressed with how responsible you both have been lately. Would you kids like it if we hired a housekeeper and someone to do the yard work?”

My first response was to get all excited and scream hell yes! But I caught myself in time and replied, “Not a live-in housekeeper. That isn’t what you mean is it?”

She looked at me and asked, “You don’t want that?”

I can’t tell her the real reason I think that’s a bad idea of course. Instead, thinking quickly I said, “No. I wouldn’t like some stranger coming in and living with us and lurking around the house. I think it would be great if we hired someone to come in every Friday while we’re at work and in school to clean the bathrooms, vacuum and dust. We can keep up with the laundry during the week. Then we can just do what we want on weekends. We could do things together or Tyler could work on his photography. I like that idea.”

She thought about it for a moment and said, “You know, I think that sounds better than my idea. I was just thinking that if we hired someone to live in she could take over the cooking chores from you.”

I smiled and said, “I don’t mind, mom. I know a lot of girls in school who couldn’t cook a TV dinner if their lives depended on it. Much less make a decent meal. I don’t mind cooking and I’m glad you taught me how. And anyway, I only have to cook two or three nights a week.”

After due consideration she decided she’s more comfortable with my plan than hers and it was agreed. Now we just have to hire someone.

The men were finished and showered when we got home and mom told them what we decided. Then she put dad to work making his world-famous hamburgers on the grill while we sat around the pool. Yeah, money doesn’t suck hardly at all.

That evening, dad and Tyler were downstairs in the family room watching a college football game they recorded earlier. Mom and I were in the kitchen. Mom is in a good mood and I figured now was as good a time as any for the talk I’ve been putting off having with her. I took a deep breath and tried to sound calm and reasonable. I tried not to let her hear the nervousness in my voice when I said, “Mom, we need to talk.”

She froze.

I laughed and said, “Relax, mom. I’m not pregnant.”

She grinned sheepishly and said, “Sorry, Mya. You just sounded so damned serious. It’s something we worry about, especially with a girl as beautiful, and let’s be honest, headstrong, as you.”

I don’t think I’m headstrong but I let that go. I said, “You’re on the right subject, though. Can we talk quietly and nobody gets upset?”

She looked at me for a moment and told me to sit down at the kitchen table. She got two glasses out and poured us both a glass of wine.

When she sat down and handed me one of them I was more than a little surprised after all the lectures Tyler and I have received on drugs and alcohol.

I picked up the glass and said, “Believe it or not, I’ve never tasted alcohol before.”

I saw that she believed me and she seemed relieved. I added, “And in case you’re wondering, I’m still a virgin.”

That’s technically true. My hymen is still intact.

I took a sip of the wine and tried not to make a face. I would have preferred a glass of tea. But it did start to have a warming effect on my stomach after a few sips and I was slowly getting used to the strong taste, too. I guess it’s an acquired taste, like cum.

She waited for me to tell her what’s on my mind. I’m nervous. I don’t have any idea how she’s going to take this. My parents aren’t prudes. We’ve always been able to talk about just about anything. But I don’t know how she’s going to react to this and I don’t want her to be disappointed in me.

I took one more sip, screwed up my courage and said, “Mom, I didn’t want to go behind your back on this. I want to get on the pill. Before you panic, I’m not planning on doing anything. But I think about it a lot lately. I can..., god this is hard to say to your mother! I can imagine myself getting carried away someday. I have only been out with a couple of guys since you let me start dating and I promise you, neither of them has even gotten to second base. But if it was the right guy, it could be a different ball game.”