Chapter 8

Thursday am - Ryan

I was dreaming. I was sure of it. There was this wonderful mouth on my cock. It was teasing me, just getting me hard and then changing to licking my balls when I was getting some rhythm. Then I woke up and found out that there was a li'l cocksucker working over Mr. Meat with her mouth.

Then she wrapped her hair around my shaft, and began stroking me with a fistful of her silky, soft blonde/brown mane. OOOoooo. That felt real nice.

"Morning, Ry," said the voice from under my sheets. The sheet went flying off and I could see her now. She was all dressed and looking like the million dollars that I would have paid for her, at least, I would have paid that much for her to not stop. "Listen, stud, I've already done my hair, so you tell me before you get it all sticky again."

After a few more strokes, she stopped entirely. "RYAN WYLIE! Did you hear me?"

"Uh. Yah sugar. I heard you. No cumming in your hair. But you're not gonna leave me hanging are ya?"

"Do I ever?" And she went back to the hair-wrapped stroke. It was different. All smooth and soft and yet she was stroking and ... well, real nice, like I said.

Pretty soon, I tapped her on the shoulder. "Won't be long now, Beck." With that she shook her head and all the hair came around to the other side of her face. Then she swooped down and took me in her mouth. Just the head, but she was sucking HARD.

It didn't take me long to respond to the change. Cool, silky stroking to hot, liquid sucking. After filling her mouth in the first few spurts, she showed it to me. A beautiful open mouth smile, her tongue covered with my seed. She bored into me with those blue lasers that normally were so innocent looking. Then she closed her mouth, swallowed, and opened her mouth again.

"All gone, baby."

"Oooohhh. Beck, I'd rip your clothes off and rape you right here ... if I didn't have to pee like a racehorse."

"Wait a minute." And she bent down, took me in her mouth again, and I'll be damned if she didn't suck a hickey on my dickey. Right on the head. "Now we're even." She laughed and got out of bed. Then she followed me into the bathroom. But she wasn't interested in my attempts to get Mr. Meat's morning hard on pointed down to the bowl. She wanted mouthwash. "Nothing personal Ryan. But I don't feel like talking to your dad with a mouth full of YOU." And she laughed again. It was an awfully nice laugh.

We got upstairs today, in plenty of time. Becky headed right for the pantry, and started to look for something. Not finding it, she opened the fridge and took out a bottle of ready-made pancake batter. I guess she wasn't satisfied with my batter, she wanted more. HAHA

Today she was wearing a thin, white, little belly shirt. Meaning that it showed her belly every time she moved. And it was thin enough that you could see she was wearing a black bra. Real sexy if you ask me. Plus a short white skirt that only came a couple of inches down on her thighs. It looked like it was gonna give me a panty shot any time she moved. If I hadn't just come in her mouth, I'd want to come in her mouth. In fact, I wanted to grab her and fuck her again anyway.

She looked at me over her shoulder, while she was working the stove controls. "Ryan?? Forks? Plates? OJ? You know?? So we can eat."

DOH! I woke up from my pussy-filled daydream. I never ate breakfast at the table. Or with silverware. But I knew where it was. I got two plates and silverware and glasses and stuff. Becky looked at me again ... like I didn't have enough brains to step on worms. "THREE plates, Ryan."

Oh. Three. Right. What was I thinking? She was making breakfast for me and her, so naturally I'd know to get three plates. I guess. So I went to get another plate and the et cetera. About then daddy came out of his room, looking all spiff again in a polo shirt and jacket. He smiled at seeing her at the stove, cooking for us.

"Hi Mr. Wylie," she threw over her shoulder at him. "Take a seat. Almost ready here."

"This is nice," he said. "And it's Mike, ok?" He took one of the seats at the kitchen table.

"OK. Mike it is." She put some pancakes on the middle of the table then went back to make another batch.

"Mike? A real nasty thing happened at my trailer yesterday." She dropped it into the morning chat like it was nothing. "Some guys showed up and worked my father over pretty good. They were from Houston or something." Daddy's fork stopped halfway to his mouth, and he looked at me - hard. "I asked Ryan about it, but he doesn't know anything, and I believe him. I sure hope that nothing like that ever happens again, 'cause I don't know how he or I would ever hold up if the police came to question us."

Daddy put the piece of pancake into his mouth and chewed real slow. "He's my father, and he may be a rotten father, but he's MY father. And I can handle things. I sure hope that's the end of it." She turned around with another plate of pancakes.

"Yeah, that sounds bad. Maybe it was the cops or somethin'. I hear they don't like that kind of stuff," daddy said. And he was looking at me for a minute, then he was all smiles at Becky. "So your boyfriend is naked in school this week? Does that bother you?" He knew about NIS? How?

"Yes, frankly. It does," she answered. This was news to me. She said she was setting me up with girls and stuff. "I mean ... how do you think I should feel, seeing a bunch of other women with their paws all over my man?" This was a whole 'nother side of her that I didn't even know about. Daddy was nodding, and drinking OJ.

"You know people in LA don't you?" Again Daddy stopped drinking, this time he just looked at her. "Don't you think you could ask somebody out there who'd know somebody who could get Ryan a shot at going to USC? They have an opening for a quarterback next year. I bet Ry could get it. It's a super opportunity."

"And uh..." she continued "If he was out there, away from Austin I mean, there'd be a better chance that he wouldn't go into the nightclub business, you know?" She stuffed some pancakes in her mouth. What was she talking about? ME? In the nightclub business? I wasn't even thinking about that.

"That true Ryan? You interested in USC?" Daddy was looking at me.

"Well, uh..." Becky had kicked off her sandal and was rubbing her foot on my leg a little. "I guess so. I mean ... they didn't come out here, but yeah, I'd be interested if they were."

"I'd go to USC if Ryan did," Becky said. "I got a scholarship out there, but I want to get Ryan the best chance he can get, so I'm not saying yes to them yet." She smiled that 10,000 watt smile at me, and reached out to hold my hand. "We've been talking about the future, some." Then she turned her smile on daddy. "Somebody has to think about that ... this dopey guy won't." She laughed a little.

HUH?! Future? I supposed that meant marriage. She was right about one thing though: I didn't really think much past the next pussy I could get. I guess I had a dopey grin on my face.

Daddy looked at me then at her. "Yeah. I can see that." He laughed much more than Becky had. "Ryan, if you're even a little smart, you'll catch this one while you can. She's smart and - if you'll excuse me - real easy on the eyes too."

Becky just smiled at him. Like they had come to an agreement on something.

Thursday am - Lisa

Robert was still sprawled over me like the warm blanket that I used him for. I woke up when the sun thru the window hit me in the eye. It hurt. I did some figuring and guessed that I wouldn't be too late for school if I got up soon. I pushed on Prescott and got out from under him.

I stood up and immediately regretted it. I never drank anything at all, and last night I had so much to drink that I could barely remember getting deflowered. "Deflowered!" More like: I used Robert Prescott like a human dildo, just to get off. That wasn't nice. But it was satisfying, physically. And I REALLY needed that.

I looked over at Prescott. He was still asleep in the middle of a thoroughly demolished bed. Somehow, I doubt he'd complain about how he was "used."

Clothes. Somewhere there was my dobak. And my red lace underwear. I staggered around lifting things until I found them all. I stuffed my bra and panties under my TKD belt, then I tiptoed out the door and found my car.

I drove home ... slowly. My head hurt. The sun was too bright. The radio was too loud. The bumps in the road hurt. When I got home, I pulled in next to my dad's Taurus, and I walked slowly to the front door, and opened it. My father was sitting in the living room, sipping at a cup of coffee.

EEEK! My father. That was his car in the driveway. He was home. Oh crap!

"HELLO LISA. DID YOU HAVE A GOOD TIME?" I swear he was shouting on purpose.

I cringed and begged, "Not so loud, please! Pleeeeease!"

He looked at me, and I guess, decided to have pity on me. "We'll talk about the details later. Right now you look like a perfect description of 'what can happen to your daughter if she's left alone.' You have a hangover, your underwear is tucked into your belt, and your pants are inside-out." He laughed. "I hope it was worth it. I hope HE was worth it. Now go get in the shower. Take some aspirin first and have a drink of Gatorade. If you feel like breakfast, you can have some later."

"I was thinking of staying home today," I said - very quietly. Usually your own voice doesn't hurt when you talk - not today.

"Oh no. You do the crime, you do the time." That was one of his favorite sayings. "At least you had the good sense not to try and drive home last night. But you are going to school today."

I let out a groan and staggered up the stairs. I realized that I was walking a little bowlegged. My pussy hurt. That made me remember all the things that we did last night.

At least I wasn't a virgin anymore.

Thursday am - Lisa

Me and Becky drove to school. This was getting to be something I could get used to. I looked down and her hand was in my lap, casually stroking Mr. Meat. Yep. I could definitely get used to it.

I thought about what she said at the breakfast table. USC would be a great chance for me. I'd be sure to get noticed by the pro scouts. Even if I was a backup there. At UT, I wouldn't be more than second string for a long time. What did she mean about me not going into the nightclub business? Was that some sort of code for not working for Certain People who knew people - like those two goons from Houston? I didn't want anything to do with that or them or whatever.

"Why so quiet, Ry?"

"I was just thinkin', that's all."

"Ut.Oh Scooby, I can smell something burning." It was a standing joke between us. I didn't need to think, I just need to fuck her and play football. But I wasn't so sure I wanted her to make all the decisions. Me being a pussy-whipped wimp, following instructions.

"Becky," I said. "You seem to have done a lot of planning here. I'm not so comfortable with not making any decisions about my own future."

"Ry," and her stroking of my cock got a little more of a squeeze to it, "you make ALL the decisions. Have I ever done or said ANYTHING that I didn't talk about with you first? And for that matter, have I ever done anything that you didn't approve of? I may make all the first plans, yes. But I'm a planner, always was. But YOU are the one who can say 'yes' or 'no.' You decide if something is right or not.

"Like USC. Totally your choice. I mean, think about it and decide. Or we can talk about it some more. If we lived in Southern California, together, you could wake up like this morning. I'm not saying it would be like that EVERY day, but I like that too, you know. Oooo. I can tell you like that idea." Mr. Meat was paying attention; he liked morning BJs.

"And once in a while, I could set up a little something with one of my friends. I mean, I don't have any yet, but I will have some. Maybe surfer girls, or cheerleaders, or just 'friends' - like Coral yesterday, you know?" I was just HARD now. Surfer girls? Ooooo. And in 3-ways with Becky and me? She was dipping her hand under my waistband and tickling my cock directly.

"Well, I'll think about it." I tried to shift around in the seat, to let her get at me more.

"Just so long as YOU decide. I'm not the guy who has a shot at being the USC quarterback. It's your call. If that kind of life appeals to you. It sure appeals to me." And she gave Mr. Meat a little pat, and then pulled her hand out.

I looked at her. "Ryan," she explained, "We're here. School?"

Oh yeah. High school. What a drag. Didn't compare at all to surfer girls.

Thursday am - Lisa

I thought about things in the shower. My dad must be the coolest guy on the planet. His daughter - only daughter - who has been virginal 'till now, shows up looking like I did. And he just says "We'll talk about it later. Go take a shower." I mean ... who does that? Not even the understanding fathers on TV. And then he gives me hints on what to do about the hangover.

I finished the shower and dried off. I was feeling about 20% human again. That was good. Back in my room, I saw that he'd picked out some clothes. A top and some denim cutoffs. No underwear though. Was I supposed to go commando, or pick out my own. Well, he'd never know ... so I went commando.

When I went downstairs, he was there, all suited up and looking very much the US Attorney. "Better?" he asked. And on the counter, there was a sports bottle full of Gatorade and an aspirin bottle.

He gave me a hug and said, "I'm glad. GLAD! Now we'll talk about it later, OK? I'll be home about 7 tonite. Can you be here too?"

I didn't understand at all, but there were tears in my eyes. I just nodded.

At school, I needed to go to the Stripping Post today. I chuckled a bit to myself. Sorry Officer Lupis, no free show if I get stopped today. But it was Thursday, already, and the gawkers knew there wasn't going to be a show. I left the car, fully clothed and with my sunglasses on. My eyes were all bloodshot and the light hurt. I looked like I felt like shit. 'Cause I did.

Rebecca and Ryan were just coming out of the office when I went in. Ryan started to say something, but he got an elbow in the ribs and stifled himself. When I came out, sans clothes, but avec shades, Rebecca was still there, but Ryan wasn't. She was just looking at me, and said, "We have to talk." And led the way to the local chat room - used to be called the Girls Rest Room.

She looked at her watch - we had about 20 minutes before classes would start - and then lifted my sunglasses to look at my eyes. I winced away - light hurt, remember? "Booze or drugs?" she asked. "And is this a regular thing with you?"

"Quiet please. Please." She wasn't talking so loud, but my head was about to go nuclear. "First time. Booze." I had no idea why I was even talking to her, or why she was talking to me. I couldn't think about it right now.

"Good," she said. GOOD? This was a good thing? "You keep pushing liquids. You'll pee a lot, but you'll feel better." She looked me over - all over. "Oh My God. You got laid didn't you? You're pussy looks redder than normal." She knew what color my pussy was normally? I have to read more stuff on the internet, buy a vowel or something. What normal people seem to notice is a mystery to me.

She held me at arms length, and was as serious as a judge, "Lisa, tell me the truth. Was it rape? Did somebody give you drinks and then take advantage of you? Did you drink anything that he didn't drink?" She shook me a little. "Lisa! Think!"