By the time Stacy and I walked back to Susan’s house, it was very late. We took a quick, cool shower and then she walked me to the door. She looked as worn out as I was, but we were both happy. She gave me a smoldering goodnight kiss, then I walked home.
When I finally got back to our cabin, the porch light was on and there was something in one of the rocking chairs. As I got closer, I realized it was a person. Uh-oh. Mom was wrapped up in a blanket and asleep. Since I normally didn’t wear my watch, I had no idea what time it was.
As soon as I walked up the stairs, she stirred. The porch creaked softly with my weight and she blinked sleepily.
“Sorry I’m home late, Mom,” I said softly.
She smiled and nodded. “We’ll talk in the morning.”
I extended a hand to her and she slowly uncurled. With a yawn, she hitched the blanket around her shoulders and smiled at me sleepily as I helped her to her feet. I held the door open and then followed her into the darkened cabin.
Mom kissed me goodnight and I turned off the porch light. She quietly padded to the bathroom and I climbed into my top bunk. When Mom climbed into bed a few minutes later, she and Dad had a quick, quiet conversation. I didn’t hear what they said, but I guess I didn’t really need to—I knew it was about me.
The next morning, I got up a little later than usual. I had slept well, just not long enough. Mom and Dad were already up, and Erin was stirring. I slipped on my workout shorts and headed outside. After warming up with the jump rope, I started doing push-ups.
I had just started doing sit-ups when Mom and Erin came out of the cabin, waved to me, and headed down the hill. Several minutes later, Dad came out of the cabin and waited for me to finish my set of exercises. When I stood up to retrieve the jump rope, he tossed something to me. I didn’t see what it was, but I reached out and caught it automatically. It was my watch.
“Do you know what time you came home last night?” Dad asked conversationally.
“If you had your watch on, you’d’ve known it was after one thirty.”
I hadn’t thought it was that late.
He nodded. “Your mother and I know you’re not going to get into trouble, not here. But your curfew at camp is the same as it is at home.”
“Yes, sir.” As a rule, I didn’t call my father “sir,” but it was one of Those Conversations.
“So we expect you to be back at the cabin by midnight.”
I nodded and studied the ground.
“Don’t hang your head, son,” he said. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.” His voice wasn’t angry, but it was definitely firm.
I immediately looked up and met his gaze.
“That’s better. You need to look at people when they’re talking to you, Paul. It shows respect. You know that.”
I felt my cheeks heat up as I nodded, but my eyes never left his face.
He glanced at the watch I held. “You can either wear that and come home at midnight,” he said. “Or not, and take your chances on getting home on time. Do you understand?”
“Good,” he said.
Sometimes, it was easy to forget my father’s military background. This wasn’t one of those times.
“Now,” he said, his tone lighter. “While you finish your workout, I’m going to go shower.”
When he walked back inside the cabin, I strapped on my watch. It seemed too tight, but I knew I’d get used to it. I’d better get used to it, I thought. I knew I wouldn’t enjoy the deliberately unstated consequences if I came home after midnight again.
When I finished jumping rope, I went inside, slipped off my shorts, and threw them in the hamper. Dad smiled at me as he came out of the bathroom, the pleasant smell of his aftershave wafting after him.
I thought Dad would head down to the clubhouse, so I didn’t even bother to shut the bathroom door when I hopped in the shower. I washed quickly and then stepped out to dry myself. To my surprise, Dad was sitting on the bed reading his book (the latest Robert Ludlum thriller).
“I thought I’d wait and walk down with you,” he said.
“Um... cool. Thanks.”
He smiled and returned his attention to his book.
I started doing my regular bathroom routine. Normally, I didn’t grow enough facial hair to shave on a regular basis. The night before, however, Stacy had commented on my peach fuzz, so I felt the need to clean up my face. When we were at home, I used one of Dad’s beat-up old razors. Unfortunately, I’d forgotten to pack it. Erin had been shaving for about a year, but she had to do it about as often as I did. At camp, she and Mom usually shared a pack of disposable razors. Since I wasn’t about to use a pink plastic razor...
“Dad?” I asked. “Do you mind if I borrow your razor?”
He set his book down and walked toward me. It was a little weird having him stand behind me in the bathroom, but I held my ground. At six feet, he was still three inches taller than me, and could easily look over my shoulder. He looked in the mirror and examined my face critically. I almost jumped when he put his hand on my shoulder and stretched past me.
“Here you go,” he said as he reached into his toiletries bag and withdrew his safety razor and a packet of new blades. “I guess it’s time we bought you a razor of your own.”
My eyes widened.
“Although you might not have to use it all the time. Yet.” He looked at me archly and smiled. “Be glad for that.”
I nodded quickly and hid my mild confusion. I actually liked to shave, even though I didn’t have to do it very often. It was fun, and made me feel grown up.
“But there’s something about buying your own razor that makes you feel like a man,” he said.
I nodded as sagely as I could. “I guess I should probably shave every day,” I said.
Dad took one look at my serious expression and laughed out loud. He clapped me on the shoulder and smiled at my reflection in the mirror. “Son, I didn’t have to shave every day until I was in college. You go right ahead, if it’ll make you happy. But I think you’ll get tired of it pretty quick.” He grinned at me again and returned to his book.
I changed the razor blade, lathered my face, and carefully shaved the few patches of hair on my chin and jaw. I tried to shave like Dad, but his motions were more deft than mine.
“Why don’t we drive to town tomorrow?” Dad asked from the bed.
“Uh, sure. Whatever.”
“Your mom can give us a grocery list and we’ll do the shopping. I’ll help you pick out a razor. Okay?”
“Sure, Dad. Sounds cool.”
It didn’t sound all that cool, but I would be buying my own razor. That alone would be worth the trip.
When Dad and I finally made it down to the clubhouse, I saw that Stacy and Susan would be joining my family for breakfast. Since Stacy now had a bit more financial freedom, she had taken the rest of the week off and planned to stay with Susan until Sunday.
For breakfast, Mom and Susan had fixed big cheese omelettes. Stacy and Erin were setting one of the larger tables with sausage, biscuits, gravy, grits, and glasses of orange juice. With timing honed by years of motherhood, Mom and Susan had everything ready just as Dad and I walked into the building.
During breakfast, Dad announced that he and I had a mission in town the following day. Mom smiled and nodded when he asked her for a grocery list. He said we also had a secret mission, one he’d “brief” me on later. He grinned mischievously, but wouldn’t say anything else about it. I don’t think even Mom knew what he was up to. Suddenly, our trip to town held more promise than I’d originally thought.
Gina’s family entered the clubhouse midway through our meal. I noticed that Kara and her mother no longer wore bikini bottoms, although Gina and Leah still wore theirs. When they saw us, they all came over to say hello. I smiled at Gina, but her expression didn’t change. Kara noticed and elbowed her sister in the ribs. Gina smiled at me, but it was clearly obligatory—the smile didn’t reach her eyes.
Mom, Dad, and Susan talked to Chris and Elizabeth. Leah went around to Erin, and Kara came over to Stacy and me. Kara tried to pull Gina over to us, but she resisted, stubbornly insisting on remaining aloof. After a few minutes of idle chitchat, the Coulter family went to fix their own breakfast.
I guess I was a little down about Gina, and Stacy noticed. She surreptitiously put her hand on my thigh and squeezed. I smiled at her and tried to look happier. Judging by her concerned expression, I didn’t do so well.
After breakfast, we spent the rest of the morning at the lake. I sat next to Gina, but she pretty much ignored me. Each time I tried to start a conversation, she responded with monosyllabic answers. Eventually, I got tired of trying and went for a swim.
I goofed off for a little while, then swam toward the shallow end of the lake, where Stacy and Kara had laid out their towels. They were keeping an eye on Clara Nolan while her mom and dad were across the lake with the other adults.
Clara was happily playing with a very waterlogged Barbie doll. She flashed me a cheerful, gap-toothed grin when I waded past her. As I approached them, Stacy and Kara were smiling and trying not to laugh. For a moment, I wondered why. Then Clara splashed me from behind, giggled, and noisily swam away.
I smiled helplessly at the two older girls and promptly chased down Clara. She squealed playfully when I caught her, and I easily swept her into my arms. I waded toward the deeper part of the shallow end of the lake. Clara squirmed and tried to get loose, but I was used to holding on to 160-pound wrestlers. A wriggling six-year-old girl wasn’t about to get loose.
When the water was up to my waist, I tossed Clara into the lake. As soon as she hit, I submerged and started swimming toward her. When I burst upward and swept her with me, she screamed again. At the top of my lunge, I tossed her into the lake again. She sputtered to the surface, looked at me with wide eyes and an ear-to-ear grin, then begged me to do it again.
For the next fifteen or twenty minutes, I played with Clara. She squealed happily as I tossed her, spun her, and lifted her above my head. Eventually, I put her on my shoulders and carried her toward the shore. Either Kara or Stacy had retrieved the floating Barbie doll, and it was lying next to them. I blushed as they grinned at me. When I set Clara down, she gifted me with another toothy grin.
“Did you like that, Clara?” Kara asked.
Clara smiled and quickly nodded.
“He’s a good guy to play with, isn’t he?”
Clara grinned shyly and nodded again. Suddenly, she giggled, grabbed her Barbie doll, then bolted around the lake as fast as her little legs would take her. “Bye, Miss Kara,” she yelled over her shoulder. “Bye, Miss Stacy.” She giggled again and kept running toward her mother.
“And what am I,” I asked with feigned indignation, “chopped liver?”
“You can play with us,” Stacy said, her voice low and sultry. “Mister Paul.”
I must have turned six shades of red.
Around lunchtime, the air grew still and heavy. Fifteen minutes later, the wind picked up and clouds started moving in. A summer thunderstorm was blowing in quickly, so everyone picked up their blankets and towels, then headed up the hill to the clubhouse. The first fat raindrops began falling about half an hour later. We ate lunch with the storm drumming a tattoo on the roof.
With the rain still coming down, most of us found diversions. Kara and Stacy wanted to play Scrabble, and they invited me to join them. They invited Gina too, but when she learned that I was playing, she declined. I shook my head despondently as I watched Kara try to persuade her sister.
“Kara said she’s just being stubborn,” Stacy said quietly.
I turned back to look at Stacy.
She reached out and held my hand. “I’m so sorry, Paul.”
“Yesterday,” she said, “I was real worried that I’d caused all this.”
I started to shake my head, but she kept talking.
“Kara told me I didn’t. She said Gina’s mostly angry about... um...” She paused to think for a moment. “Amy! Yeah, Gina’s mad about her.”
I nodded morosely.
“Actually, she’s not really mad that you had sex with someone else.” She laughed nervously. “Obviously.”
“Kara said she’s mad that you did it behind her back. I guess that kinda makes sense.”
“Kinda, but not really.”
“Well,” she continued. “According to Kara, Gina’s also just being stubborn. She thinks she’s punishing you, I guess.”
She nodded. “So Kara and I have kinda been paying a lot of attention to you.” She grinned and bit her bottom lip.
I just stared at her, at a loss for words.
“Of course,” she quickly amended, “I’d pay attention to you anyway.”
I squeezed her hand and smiled.
Her eyes sparkled as her face lit up.
“Thanks, Stacy.” I put my other hand on hers and looked into her eyes. “I really do love you. Sometimes, I wish we could run away together.”
“If you did that,” she said, pretending to be cheerful, “you’d never get Gina back.”
“You know what I mean,” I said.
She nodded and her eyes grew misty. “Thank you.”
“You two want to be alone?” Kara asked, suddenly appearing at the table.
We looked up in surprise, and she grinned at us.
Stacy wiped the corners of her eyes and shook her head. “No. Paul’s just making it hard for me to help him get Gina back.”
Kara unceremoniously flopped into a chair and sighed in frustration. “Yeah, well, she’s being a pig-headed little—” She looked up at us and blushed. “Sorry. The women in our family,” she said, turning to me, “can be strong willed.”
“Really?” I asked with artful innocence.
Kara started to nod seriously, then caught herself and grinned ruefully. “Yeah,” she said. “Believe it or not, independent thinking can sometimes be a problem.”
Stacy and I looked at each other and grinned.
“Let’s just play Scrabble,” Kara said with a trace of disgust.
We drew our letters and started to play. The rain showed no sign of letting up, so we settled in and enjoyed ourselves. Every once in a while, I turned around and looked at Gina. Most of the time, she was reading her book. But once, I caught her looking at us longingly. She locked eyes with me, scowled, and turned back to her book.
When dinnertime rolled around, it was still raining, although the worst of the storm had passed. Susan walked into the clubhouse, shook off her umbrella, and leaned it against the wall near the door. She stopped and talked to a few people on her way through the building. My parents had spent the afternoon talking with Gina’s parents on the couches, and Susan joined them.
They talked for a while and then Mom, Susan, and Elizabeth all went to the kitchen area at the same time. We were probably going to eat dinner with Gina’s family. Fantastic, I thought, more time with a very distant Gina. I suppose my expression was as dour as my mood, because Kara suddenly laughed at me. (Her last play had been “quirky”, on a Triple Word score, and she was in a good mood.)
“What’s so funny?” I asked. I hoped I didn’t sound as frustrated as I felt.
“You, silly,” Kara said.
Kara smiled mysteriously.
Stacy and I automatically leaned closer.
“Okay,” Kara said. “Your family is eating with ours tonight, right?”
“Yeah, I figured that much out o—”
“And you’re all down about it ’cause you think you’ll have to sit there and Gina won’t talk to you.”
“Pretty much,” I snapped.
“You don’t get it, do you?”
I bridled, but she quickly smiled at me.
“Mom’s gonna be there,” she said, as if that answered everything.
I looked at her with a wounded expression. When she sobered quickly, I immediately felt bad.
“Remember what happened yesterday?” Stacy asked. “At the picnic?”
I must have looked as confused as I felt.
“Gina got up and stormed off?” Kara prompted.
I still didn’t get it.
“And then Mom went and talked to her,” Kara said. She paused for a moment. “Do you honestly think Gina’s gonna give you the silent treatment as long as Mom’s watching?” Kara asked.
Comprehension began to blossom in my brain.
“If you sit next to her and you make polite conversation,” Kara continued, “she’ll have no choice but to talk to you. See?”
“Oh, I get it!”
The two older girls looked at me with insufferable grins.
Dinner that night could best be described as the triumph of experience over hope. Gina talked to me, but she answered every question in as few words as possible. And, of course, she didn’t say one word that wasn’t a direct response to one of my questions. Midway through the meal, I gave up.
After dinner, Susan came up to me and put her arm through mine. All of the other women were cleaning up the remains of our meal, Dad and Chris were talking to each other, so we were alone.
“You need to learn to ask open-ended questions,” she said.
“Open-ended questions,” she repeated. “It’s an interviewing trick my father taught me. You asked Gina too many closed-ended questions.”
“Did you swim in the lake today?”
“Huh?” Did she just change the subject?
“Just answer the question,” she gently prompted.
“Did I swim in the lake today? Yeah.”
“I asked a closed-ended question. Not a whole lot of answer needed.” She paused for a moment to let that sink in.
I had my doubts as to how far it would sink.
“What did you do today?” she asked.
“I just told you,” I said.
“No,” she said patiently. “You didn’t. What did you do today?”
I shrugged in frustration. “I told you. I went for a swim.”
I rolled my eyes and continued. “I played with Clara Nolan. I played Scrabble with Kara and Stacy. I ate dinner. I... Oh...” I paused and looked at her in growing surprise. “Oh. I get it.”
She smiled and nodded. “Closed-ended questions don’t leave a lot of room for conversation. Did you swim in the lake today? Yes. Where did you play Scrabble? In the clubhouse. What color are my eyes? Blue.”
“Open-ended questions are where you can really start a conversation. What did you do today? What happened during your Scrabble game? Why do you like blue eyes?”
“Mmm hmm. There aren’t any one-word answers to those questions.”
I shook my head.
“If you want to draw someone out, use open-ended questions.”
“So,” she asked, “what are you going to ask the next time you talk to Gina?”
“The next time I talk to Gina,” I said excitedly, “I’m going to...” I looked at Susan with a mixture of surprise and chagrin.
She smiled munificently.
I felt my face and ears heating. “That was an open-ended question,” I said, half accusingly, half in wonder.
“The next time I talk to Gina, I’m going to ask open-ended questions.”
She turned and kissed me on the cheek. “She’s trying to stay mad at you, so you’ll have your work cut out for you.”
I nodded sullenly.
“But Kara’s on your side,” Susan said. “Trust what she tells you, she wants you and Gina to be happy.”
With that, she turned and walked back to my parents.
“Hey! Wait,” I called after her. “How d’you know about Kara?”
She merely shook her head and laughed brightly.
Was I the only one who didn’t know what was going on?
Later, Mom and Dad told me they were going with Gina’s parents to Susan’s house. Before she left, Susan took Stacy aside and talked to her for a few minutes. Afterward, she picked up her umbrella and followed my parents out the clubhouse door.
Outside, it was raining steadily and had turned cold. Well, as cold as South Carolina gets in early July. My and Gina’s parents would get chilly and wet walking to Susan’s house, but I guess that was their problem. I know I certainly didn’t want to go traipsing off in the rain.
No sooner had I thought this than Stacy asked if I wanted to go for a walk. A walk? It was raining outside, and not all that warm. Was she crazy?
Kara merely smiled at us as she excused herself. I watched her as she walked over to Gina and flopped down on the couch. Stacy grabbed my hand and practically dragged me out of the clubhouse.
It wasn’t raining very hard, but it was steady enough that we were both drenched by the time we had gone fifty feet. Stacy led me up the hill, and it quickly became clear she was leading me toward our cabin. With my parents at Susan’s house, and Erin with her friends in the clubhouse, we would have the cabin to ourselves. Going for a walk suddenly didn’t sound like such a bad idea.
Since we were already soaked, there was really no reason to run, but we did anyway. The last hundred yards, we sprinted up the hill, raindrops pelting our water-slick bodies. I bounded up the stairs, turned, and caught Stacy as she leapt onto the porch. I held her feet off the ground and she kissed me soundly. When I set her down, we kept kissing, each kiss hotter than the last.
“I want to make love in the rain,” she said when we finally pulled apart.
“It’s cold,” I said in a half-hearted protest. “And wet.”
She reached for my penis. “We’re already wet,” she said. “And I could warm you up.” She stroked me, and I began to respond. “I could warm up certain parts quicker than others.” Still stroking my growing member, she started backing down the stairs.
I had little choice but to follow her. I looked around to see if anyone could see us. With the storm, it was getting dark earlier than usual, and the rain cut visibility even further. I was pretty sure no one would see us, but we were out in the open.
Stacy dropped to her knees before me, kissed my half-hard cock, then engulfed it with her mouth. My penis quickly sprang to full attention. She kept sucking for a few more minutes, making my head spin from the heat and delicate friction she applied to my manhood.
When she pulled her lips away from my organ long enough for me to regain a semblance of coherent thought, I quickly pulled her to her feet. She looked at me curiously when I stepped close to her and put my hands under her arms. I easily lifted her into the air, then pulled her against my chest.
She quickly realized what I was doing and wrapped her arms around my neck. When she circled my waist with her legs, I lowered my hands to her hips. I held her up while she reached between us for my erection. I felt her aim my cock at her opening and then I lowered her onto it. The tip entered her and she returned her hand to my neck to steady herself. I lowered her further and felt my girth spread her open. She sank onto my length with a wordless groan.
Her slick breasts and engorged nipples pressed against my chest as she hugged me close. I quickly forgot about the chill and the rain. Her skin was cold at first, but the contact warmed us both. As her lips sought mine, she began rocking her hips against me. She mewled into my mouth each time her clit pressed against the base of my shaft. I cupped her ass and started moving within her.
I leaned back a little to get her over my center of gravity and she held herself tight against me. Because of the position, I couldn’t move my hips very far, but it was enough. Out in the open, in front of my family’s cabin and hidden only by the steady rain and dwindling light, we kissed passionately and rocked against each other.
Her skin was slippery, and I found I was having a hard time holding onto her as she humped against me. When my hand slipped and my fingers brushed against her anus, she cried out in pleasure. Her pussy clutched at me, and I felt a rush of warmth and moisture flow over my dick.
I quickly moved my finger back over her anus, and her pussy spasmed again. Her back bowed as she humped her hips against me, and I smiled to myself. I pressed my finger into the bud of her ass and she cried out again. As I teased her anus, her pussy became a molten vise, clutching my cock and sending tendrils of pure ecstasy through my groin.
Her movements became less controlled, more frantic, and the first two knuckles of my finger slipped into her ass. She immediately arched her back and cried out, her face turned heavenward, heedless of the rain. Her legs cinched around my waist and held her hips against me as the first throes of orgasm took her.
With my finger still buried in her ass, she came, hard. She bucked her hips against me once, but quickly stopped moving. I clenched my buttocks and my cock swelled within her. She cried out again, shuddering as her pussy spasmed around my invading manhood. Contractions surged through her pussy, clamping and releasing my dick. Her climax seemed to roll on and on, making her cry out with each new wave of pleasure.
When her orgasm finally subsided, her fingers began to slip from around my neck. She went limp, and I scrambled to catch her before she fell. I hastily moved one hand around her back and supported her as her arms flopped to the sides. I shifted my body and pulled her against me bonelessly. I pulled my finger out of her and steadied her with both hands as I settled her weight.
My cock was still very hard, and remained buried in her steamy pussy. She moaned softly when her sensitive clit rubbed against my shaft as I shifted her, but otherwise, she was dead to the world. The rain started to pick up and I shook my head to clear my eyes. She shivered against me, more from the cold than any aftershocks from her orgasm, and I walked toward the cabin porch.
I routinely worked out with more weight than Stacy’s 110 pounds, so carrying her was no problem. She clutched me weakly and moaned into my shoulder as I mounted the steps. Her skin raised goose bumps when a gust of wind blew up, and she shivered again.
I shifted her again, to make sure I could support her with one arm, and opened the cabin door. Once inside, I walked to the bathroom, not caring that we were dripping on the floor. Stacy began to return to her senses when I flipped on the light. She pulled back and looked at me with unfocused eyes.
When she closed her eyes and shivered again, I moved to set her down. She gasped as my rigid length rubbed over her clit. I set her on her feet and spent a moment assuring myself that she wouldn’t fall.
Without the heat of my body to warm her, she started shivering continuously. I turned on the shower and adjusted the water. Since the water heater was so close, the stream quickly grew hot. I turned it down just a little and pulled her toward the tub. Still shivering, she stepped under the water with little urging. I stepped in behind her and pulled the curtain.
Once she was under the sluicing warmth of the shower, I stepped close to her and started rubbing her arms and shoulders. When she stopped shivering, she looked up at me gratefully.
“I can’t remember the last time I came that hard,” she said softly.
I cocked my head to the side and grinned.
“Aren’t you Mr. Smug,” she said, with more life and energy than she’d displayed since her orgasm.
I nodded insouciantly.
When my erection bumped into her, she looked down. “You didn’t come?” she asked, looking back up at me in surprise.
I shook my head. “I’m okay,” I said.
She smiled mischievously and began stroking my erection. “My pussy is still too sensitive,” she said. “But you could fuck me in the ass.”
I arched an eyebrow.
“It’s been a while since you did.” She smiled seductively. “I miss you back there,” she said in a little-girl voice.
She bit her lip coquettishly, fluttered her eyelids, and nodded.
“In that case...,” I said.
I didn’t wait for her to answer before I turned her around and pressed her against the shower wall. She arched her back and stuck her hips out to receive me. When she spread her cheeks, I aimed my straining erection at her ass.
Once I slipped the head inside her, I put my hands on her hips. With one long, steady thrust, I was inside her. I fucked her with sure strokes, one hand on her hip, the other tweaking her puffy nipples. Still tingling and worked up from her first orgasm, she came quickly a second time. When she did, I buried myself in her ass and emptied my balls inside her.
After we both caught our breath, we separated. Our sex had been so fast that the water was still running hot. With gentle touches, we silently washed each other. We kissed and stroked each other until the water began to run cold, then turned the water off and reached for our towels. When we were dry and warm again, we turned off the light and walked back into the darkened cabin.
“I’ve never seen your cabin before,” she said. “Well, not when you all were here. It’s different now that you are,” she said, indicating the room with a nod. “It’s like a home.”
“You’ve seen our cabin before?” I asked.
She nodded. “This spring, before your family came to camp. I asked Susan about it, and she showed me.”
She shrugged and nodded. “Yeah. It’s silly, isn’t it?” She looked up and me and then melted into my arms. “I wanted to see where you lived. At the time, I knew I loved you, but I didn’t want to admit it to myself. I guess I just wanted to touch some part of you. You know?”
I nodded. I didn’t really understand, but the idea wasn’t completely foreign.
“It seems like a lifetime since yesterday morning,” she said softly. “I know I’ll have to let you go, but I’m glad we had this time.”
That, I understood. I nodded again.
“Every time I see you look at Gina, I see it in your eyes, your love for her.”
I started to protest, but she cut me off.
“It’s true, I see it,” she said. “And when she treats you like you don’t exist, I want to slap her.”
I tensed up.
“Don’t worry,” she said quickly. “I won’t. Kara says Gina loves you very much. And I know how much you love her.” She paused for a moment and took a deep, ragged breath. “I just want you to be happy.”
My chest constricted and I blinked back tears. I held her close, at a loss for words. I hugged her for a moment longer and then she pulled back.
“Do you sleep on the top bunk, or the bottom?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Can we climb up there?”
I let her climb up first. Watching her ascend the ladder, I resisted the urge to caress her ass. When she reached the top rung and climbed onto the bed, I followed her. I lay on my back and she curled up next to me, my arm thrown over her protectively.
“It smells like you,” she said.
I sniffed, panic rising. Did it stink? Why hadn’t I noticed? Did I...?
“Relax, silly,” she said. “I like it. It smells like you. You smell good.”
I never knew I smelled good. Wisely, I kept my mouth shut.
We lay there for a long time, simply kissing each other and enjoying ourselves. I played with her breasts (her pussy was still too sensitive) and she stroked my penis. Since we were both more or less sated, it was just fun fondling, with no real purpose other than to give the other person pleasure.
“I want to fix you breakfast in the morning,” she said suddenly, her eyes alight.
She nodded. “A special breakfast.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Susan told me about those,” she said with a wry grin.
“She tells you a lot,” I said acerbically.
“Don’t be mad,” Stacy said quickly. “I asked her what I could do that you liked. She knew I wanted to make you happy, so she told me about them. Do you know what she calls them?” she asked, her voice pitched low.
I shook my head.
She grinned. “B and B. You know, like Bed and Breakfast?”
“Only she calls them her Breakfast and a Blowjob.”
I chuckled softly.
“So I want to fix you a special breakfast. Would you like that?”
I thought about it for two microseconds and then nodded.
Her face lit up and she hugged me tightly.
“One thing, though,” I said, pulling back.
Her expression grew pensive.
“I don’t want you to try to swallow my come,” I said seriously.
“No buts. You don’t like it, and I can tell.”
“I’ll learn to like it. I know I will.”
“No,” I said firmly.
Her face fell, and her eyes welled up with tears.
“I know you just want to make me happy, and I really appreciate that. But sex isn’t about one person making another one happy. It’s about two people, making each other happy.”
I shook my head. “You hate the taste of come. You once told me it’s like getting shampoo in your mouth. Do you remember that?”
She sniffled and nodded.
“When you don’t enjoy it, I don’t enjoy it either.”
“Oh,” she said in a small voice.
I kissed her cheeks, tasting the salt of her tears. “There is something you can do, something I really like.”
She still had her hand on my half-hard dick. As I thought about what I wanted, my cock twitched and began to swell further. She felt it and then anxiously looked into my eyes.
“You remember the time I spent the day at your trailer. I told my mom I was going to see a movie, but you wanted to stay home and fool around?”
“You sucked me off, and when I was ready to come, I shot all over your face.” My dick was now almost fully erect.
She nodded again and absently began stroking my shaft.
“I really liked seeing you covered in my come. It was like I was marking my territory,” I said.
She gripped my shaft and nodded.
“Why don’t you fix me a special breakfast, and then I can come on your face after you suck me off. Would you like that?”
“Better than trying to swallow my come?”
She nodded guiltily, then smiled. “Much better.”
Sensitive or not, she pulled me on top of her and we made love slowly, gently. When I came, she kissed me fiercely and held me inside her.
“I’m so lucky I met you,” she said, her breathing heavy and a catch in her voice.
“I’m the lucky one,” I said firmly.
About ten o’clock, we cleaned up and I walked her down to the clubhouse. The rain had stopped, but a thick, clinging mist hung over the camp. Erin and her friends were playing a game of Life, but Gina and Kara were nowhere to be seen.
“Hey Erin,” I said. “Where’re Mom and Dad?”
“Still at Susan’s, I guess,” she said absently.
“Where’d Gina and Kara go?”
“They went up to our cabin a couple of hours ago,” Leah said.
It was clear the girls were wrapped up in their game, so Stacy and I quietly took our leave. I walked her back to Susan’s. We passed Gina’s parents with mine, going the other direction. Dad looked at his watch, pointedly looked at mine, then smiled at me. We talked for a few minutes and then headed our separate ways.
The next morning, I got up early and wiped off my weights before I did anything else. I kept them on the porch, but the storm had been blowing enough that they were wet. Once I had all the plates and bars dry, I wiped off my bench. After my usual ab, side, and leg workout, I jumped rope, then hit the shower.
Mom was up when I emerged from the bathroom. With a smile, she kissed my cheek. She looked at me critically and I quelled my momentary anxiety.
“You do need to buy a razor,” she said.
I tried not to blush. I knew I couldn’t possibly have grown whiskers overnight, but it still made me feel grown up. “What time did Dad want to go to town?” I asked.
“Okay. Stacy wanted to fix me breakfast. Is that okay?”
Suddenly, I kissed her cheek and she smiled in surprise. “Thanks, Mom,” I said. I made sure the screen door didn’t slam and then bounded down the steps.
When I reached Susan’s house, I found her sitting outside, reading the newspaper.
“Good morning, sunshine,” she said when I rounded the corner and entered the courtyard. “How are you today?”
Her eyebrows rose and she smiled at me. She looked over her shoulder and I followed her gaze. Stacy was bustling about the kitchen.
“She’s in a good mood this morning, too,” Susan said.
I nodded and smiled like an idiot.
“And I notice she only set out one plate for breakfast.”
My face heated, but I couldn’t stop smiling. I shifted nervously from foot to foot.
She folded her newspaper and stood. “You two have fun,” she said, with only a hint of amusement. With that, she kissed me on the cheek and walked out of the courtyard.
When I stepped inside, Stacy flew into my arms as soon as I shut the door. From the looks of things, she had cooked more food than I could ever possibly eat.
“Are you ready for your B and B?” she asked.
I nodded quickly and felt my penis stir.
The day was shaping up to be cool and sunny, without a cloud in the sky. Dad and I left for town at ten. During the drive, he briefed me on our “secret mission.” We went to the drugstore first, where Dad helped me pick out a safety razor and a pack of blades. In addition, Mom had given us a short list of things we needed from the drugstore.
We located everything on the list, then found the cheapest cans of shaving cream available. We grabbed all they had, fifteen cans. With one pack of stick pins and two Bic lighters, we had everything we needed. Afterward, Dad and I had lunch at McDonalds and then went to the grocery store.
“Important bachelor lesson number one,” Dad said as we entered the Winn-Dixie.
“Never, I repeat, never go grocery shopping when you’re hungry.”
“Trust me, son. You’ll buy cookies, ice cream, potato chips, and anything else that looks tasty.” He chuckled softly. “You won’t get bread, milk, or eggs, but you’ll have enough junk food to last a week.”
Nonsense, I thought. If I came to the store for groceries, I’d buy good food. What did being hungry have to do with it? I nodded like I understood him and we started shopping.
The drive back to camp took longer than I wanted—I was eager to transform the shaving cream cans. I could tell that Dad was excited too. As soon as we got back to camp, we unloaded the groceries and our other purchases.
When that was done, we set our shaving cream cans on one of the tables and started modifying them. His plan was simple: put a stick pin in the nozzle of a can of shaving cream; use the lighter to melt the plastic around the pin; remove the pin when the plastic cooled. The process left a tiny hole for the shaving cream to escape. According to Dad, the resulting cans would shoot the shaving cream six or eight feet.
Jonathan and Alan wandered through the clubhouse and asked what we were doing. With a grin, Dad sent them off to round up their fathers, Chris Coulter, Stan Dunbar, and anyone else who wanted to have fun. They grinned and dashed out the screen door.
It took us about ten minutes to melt the nozzles on all the cans. A few minutes later, Dwight arrived. When he saw what we were up to, he laughed richly. Dad grinned infectiously and we gathered up the modified cans. We took them outside and set most of them on the clubhouse porch.
Dad, Dwight, and I each grabbed a can and stood in front of the concrete steps. We held the cans behind our backs and waited. Soon enough, some of the other men came into view. Chris, Stan, and Alan’s father, Kevin, were following Jonathan and Alan up from the lake. To my surprise, Stacy and Kara were with them as well.
“We thought we’d have a little fun with some shaving cream!” my dad shouted as they approached.
We could see them looking at one another.
“C’mon up!” Dad yelled. “We’ve got enough cans for everyone.”
They picked up their pace. Dad, Dwight, and I grinned at each other.
As they approached, Chris Coulter pulled up short. He looked directly at Dwight, then swiveled his head to look at my father. His eyes dropped to where our hands were conspicuously hidden behind our backs. None of the others seemed to notice that Chris had fallen back. Everyone else had their eyes glued to the cans of shaving cream, the bait. I grinned to myself. They would have to “run the gauntlet” to get to the cans—it would be like shooting fish in a barrel.
As soon as the group came into range, Dad, Dwight, and I all brandished our cans. At the same time, we opened fire. Three streamers of white shaving cream arced out and hit the group. I aimed at Stacy and Kara. They squealed in outrage, but quickly dodged toward the cans on the porch.
Jonathan and Alan, both small and nimble, darted behind us and came at the porch from the sides. Dwight concentrated on them, getting in a few good squirts before they armed themselves. Stan Dunbar and Kevin Nolan looked at each other, shrugged, and opted to charge my father. He got them pretty good before they bowled him over and reached the porch.
After that, a general melee erupted, with shouts, laughs, and rippling streamers of shaving cream. Stacy and Kara exacted their revenge by double-teaming me. I fought valiantly, but quickly had shaving cream all over me. Jonathan and Alan stuck together and picked at the fringe of the group like true opportunists, squirting anyone who came into range.
All the noise brought people up the hill from the lake, but I barely noticed—Stacy and Kara were busy chasing me. I swooped by the porch and picked up the last can of shaving cream, having long since exhausted my first one. I turned on the two girls and closed the distance between us, spraying the whole time.
Instead of running away, they decided to tackle me. Two slippery, shaving-cream-covered girls slammed into me and took the wind out of my lungs. I landed on my back, where they proceeded to tickle me. Being a wrestler has its advantages, and one of them was that there was no way those two girls were going to keep me on my back.
I didn’t want to hurt either of them, so I merely used a couple of quick escape moves, rather than reversals (which would have left one of them pinned beneath me). With a quick bridge out, followed by a powerful lunge, I shot to my feet. I stood over them and they both cried foul.
With most of the shaving cream cans exhausted, the friendly brawl was winding down. I reached a hand down to the two girls and easily pulled them to their feet. When I looked up, a group of people had surrounded us and were watching with a mixture of wonder and amusement. All the shaving cream fighters were panting and grinning, most of us covered from head to toe in the foamy white substance.
Dad saw Mom in the crowd and nonchalantly walked toward her. She quickly realized what he was up to, however, and tried to run away. He easily caught her and pulled her into a bear hug, smearing one entire side of her body with shaving cream. Kara and Stacy went after Erin, Leah, and Trish. Another melee ensued, this one with cream-covered people chasing family or friends.
I looked for Gina and quickly located her. She no longer wore her bikini bottoms, I absently noted. She was laughing and watching Kara chase Leah and Trish. I don’t know what came over me, but I was suddenly determined to coat her in shaving cream. She heard me charging toward her, but she was too late to avoid my rush. She squirmed and laughed as I swept her up.
I took a guilty pleasure as I smeared shaving cream on her. It had been so long since I’d held her, even touched her, that I delighted in the feel of her warm skin. She quickly grew slippery, laughing and trying to wriggle from my grasp all the while. When I had transferred enough of my shaving cream coating to her, I let her go.
The shrieking, squealing, laughing crowd of people quickly ended up heading down the hill, all of us with various amounts of shaving cream on our bodies. At the lake, everyone simply dived or waded into the water. It was cold, but after our exertions, it was also very refreshing. Patches of dissolving shaving cream floated across the water and people playfully splashed one another.
Unfortunately, Gina had decided she was still angry with me. After rinsing off, she stood apart while the rest of us goofed off in the lake. Her mother talked to her for a moment, but Gina merely shook her head and took a seat in one of the lounge chairs.
If she wanted to sulk, let her, I decided. When Stacy and Kara tried to dunk me, I stopped thinking about Gina altogether. I was going to have fun. If she wanted to have fun with me, that was fine. If not, that was fine, too. It was her decision.
On Saturday, I wanted to spend time with Gina, but she was still giving me the cold shoulder. Her loss, I thought. I still loved her, and I felt pangs of loss whenever I looked at her, but I was getting tired of banging my head against the wall of her wintry attitude. I guess there was only so much crap I was willing to put up with, and I was rapidly reaching that point.
Kara and Stacy had gone off together to lie out in the sun, so I basically skulked around the clubhouse, waiting for someone to arrive. The Erikssons, Manfred’s family, lived in Charlotte, North Carolina, and the drive wasn’t a long one. Jenny Jordan and her family lived in Atlanta, and from personal experience, I knew it was a long, tiring drive. Susan had mentioned that a few other families were due to arrive, but I couldn’t remember who they were.
Around noon, Manfred and his parents, John and Ingrid, arrived. I went to help them unload their car. Well, I helped them unload their car after the usual gawking at how much I’d changed. I was getting used to the attention, and tried to take it in stride. Manfred circled me three times, simply looking at me.
“Little man,” he said, after the third circuit, “you look buff.”
“Come on, son,” his father said. “Let’s unload the car.”
Manfred grinned at me, I grinned in return, and we started carrying things into their room. When we were done, I surreptitiously watched Manfred’s mom take off her clothes. Manfred looked just like his dad—tall, thin, and fair. His mom, Ingrid, was also tall, with large breasts and a very shapely figure. She had fair hair, but tanned easily. I imagine Valkyries looked like her.
Afterward, Manfred’s mom liberally coated him with sunblock, he donned a protective t-shirt, and we headed toward the lake. He asked about Gina and I told him enough of the story to satisfy his curiosity, but not enough to pique his interest. I quickly got the idea, however, that he wasn’t paying much attention. His mind was clearly on the imminent arrival of one Miss Jenny Jordan.
A couple of other families arrived a little later. Tom and Myra Tharp arrived first. The Tharp twins, Thomas and Theresa, came down to the lake and greeted most of the other teenagers. As usual, they spent time with each other more than anyone else.
Two other families arrived mid-afternoon, the Eakers, Brent and Debora, and the Sterlings, Aaron and Sara. The Eakers had two sons, ages six and eight, and the Sterlings had three girls, four, six, and nine. With Alan and Clara Nolan, as well as Jonathan Delozier, the shallow end of the lake was soon overflowing with laughing, shouting children.
About an hour before dinnertime, the Jordan family arrived. I could tell when they pulled up because Manfred suddenly disappeared. One minute we were playing pool, the next minute, the screen door was slamming shut behind him.
The parents, John and Jessica, were just how I remembered them. Well, I didn’t remember much about John, mostly because he was a pretty average guy. Jessica, however, was something else entirely. She used to be a model, and was about an inch shorter than me, with long dark hair and firm breasts. Jenny was a year older than me and looked just like her mother. Looking at her, I realized that I’d forgotten how beautiful she was. At fourteen, Jill looked a lot more like Jenny than she had the previous year. I searched my memory for the other two kids’ names and finally remembered them—Jackie, eleven, and John Jr., ten.
Manfred made a beeline for Jenny, and when she saw him, her face lit up. I rolled my eyes and helped them unload their food baskets. The Jordans were staying in one of the larger cabins, behind the motel-style buildings, and Manfred walked up to help them unload.
I didn’t want to stick around to watch Manfred and Jenny make moon-eyes at each other, so I headed back down to the lake. When I politely asked Gina if the seat next to her was occupied, she said it wasn’t. But as soon as I sat down, she picked up her book and towel then headed up the hill.
Fine, I thought, be that way.
Sunday morning, I went for a run. I hated running, but I wanted the time alone. I ran for more than half an hour, about four miles. Even though I wasn’t used to running that much, my time spent with the jump rope hadn’t been wasted. When I returned to camp, I was winded, but not breathing too hard. I went for a swim and then cleaned up for breakfast.
With so many recently arrived families, the clubhouse was full of people. Dad fixed his banana pancakes, and Gina’s family, Susan, and Stacy joined us for breakfast. I didn’t even sit next to Gina. Whenever I looked at her, I knew I loved her, but I guess I just didn’t have the energy to deal with her.
Everyone else at breakfast was happy and talkative, but I was somber, and maybe a little angry. Both Stacy and Kara noticed and tried to draw me out. If Gina noticed, she didn’t show it, and that made me even madder. I loved her desperately, but I couldn’t stand to be around her. How messed up is that?
After breakfast, Manfred and Jenny disappeared. I needed to talk to them about helping move Mr. Kestrel’s stuff, so I was a little perturbed by their Houdini act. When I finally found them—just before lunch, coming up from the shuffleboard courts—I asked them about helping with the move.
When I told them how much they’d get paid, they were both eager. Fifty bucks was a lot of money to all of us. I didn’t know if Gina was still interested in helping, but I guess I didn’t really care. Manfred and Jenny walked off toward the clubhouse holding hands. I watched them go and tried not to think about Gina.
What did Kara say was the opposite of love? Indifference?
Later that night, Stacy wanted to spend some time alone with me, since she had to return to work in the morning. She would be leaving very early, so we couldn’t stay up too late. I was more than happy to be with her, but I couldn’t shake my thoughts of Gina.
Stacy could tell I was upset, and when I saw her expression, I resolved myself to get in a better mood. We started kissing each other and quickly moved on to stroking and fondling. We had sex, but it was hard and fast, and I think it really surprised her. I guess I was still angry about Gina, and I realized with a start that I was taking it out on Stacy.
I consciously made up my mind to slow down and enjoy myself, and soon forgot about Gina entirely. Stacy and I spent the rest of the evening making love, having sex, and just plain fucking. By the time we were done, I was a little sore, drained, and very happy. From the look on Stacy’s face, she felt the same way.
We showered together and she kissed me goodnight at the door. I walked from Susan’s house back to our cabin in a contemplative silence.
I didn’t think of Gina once.
Monday night, things came to a head.
Gina had spent the past week glaring at me, ignoring me, or giving me perfunctory answers to my questions (and only when her mother was watching and ensuring her politeness).
I was in a seething funk, and in no mood to talk. So when Kara came up to me after dinner, I tried to be polite. In reality, I didn’t feel like dealing with her. I know she was just trying to help, and I sincerely appreciated it, but I guess I wasn’t in the mood to be helped.
Kara, however, is nothing if not determined. She coaxed and cajoled me, and eventually pulled me to my feet. I didn’t know where she was taking me, and I didn’t really care.
She led me to the nature walk by the spillway stream, the same place where Gina and I had The Talk. I probably shouldn’t have been surprised to find Gina sitting on a blanket, waiting. For a moment, my heart soared at the thought that she’d forgiven me, but one look at her face dashed that hope.
Gina stood and started to protest, but a scathing look from Kara silenced her. Kara jabbed a finger in Gina’s direction and imperiously told her to sit down. She leveled the same finger at me and gave the same order. I convinced myself that I was sitting down to be polite, but the truth was that I was actually a little scared of Kara. I’d never seen her this angry. She sat down and glared at each of us in turn.
She looked at me. “You started this mess. You were a stand-up guy and you told her the truth about Amy, but none of this would have happened if you’d just kept your dick in your pants.”
I started to protest, but Kara’s glare cut me off mid-breath.
“You tried to be nice to her, I’ll give you that,” she said. “But for the past couple of days, you’ve been pissed off, and it shows.”
My silence was admission enough.
Kara rounded on her sister. “And you have been an ice-cold bitch for a week.”
“I have n—”
“You have, and you know it,” Kara said flatly. “He tried to be nice to you. He tried to fix things. But you gave him the cold shoulder every time.”
“Well, he’s been screwing everything that moved,” Gina said defensively.
“He has not,” Kara said crossly.
“What about Susan?”
Kara shook her head irritably. “You know about Susan,” she said. “You know how it is.”
Shocked by the two girls’ vehemence, I merely watched, turning my head as if I were watching tennis.
“Then what about Stacy?”
Kara’s eyes softened momentarily, then hardened again. “What do you know about Stacy?” she snarled.
“I know he’s been screwing her.”
“Are you mad because he’s been screwing her?” Kara shot back. “Or because he hasn’t been screwing you?”
“Stacy is desperately in love with him,” Kara said, her voice softer. “She’s head-over-heels crazy in love with him. According to her, he’s the best lover she’s ever had.”
I blinked in shock.
“But every time I was with her,” Kara continued remorselessly, “all she talked about was how he could get you back.”
Even Gina blinked at that.
“That is love,” Kara said. “She loves him enough to sacrifice her own happiness for his.”
“She’s welcome to him, then,” Gina said scornfully.
“She deserves him more than you do.”
Gina’s contemptuous façade slipped a little. “Well,” she said sanctimoniously, “at least I wasn’t having sex with other people.”
Gina’s eyes flew wide.
“What do you think we’ve been doing?” Kara asked.
Gina worked her mouth soundlessly.
“And what about you and Leah?” When Kara saw Gina’s expression, she smiled humorlessly. “You didn’t think I knew about that, did you?”
Gina swallowed hard.
“What about you and Lisa? Every time she spent the night with you, you two were having sex. Going down on a girl may not be the same as having a guy inside you, but it’s still pretty much sex.” Kara turned and regarded me coolly. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
I could only stare in shock. I thought about Gina having sex with Kara, or Leah, or her friend Lisa. It was incredibly arousing. Despite the immediate situation, I felt my penis twitch in response.
Kara turned back to Gina. “You weren’t going to tell him about the two of us,” she said. “Were you?”
“It’s not like you’re guys,” Gina said quickly, trying to regain her composure.
“Okay, let’s talk about guys,” Kara said implacably. “If Joey Whatshisname had wanted you to suck him off, would you have said no? Hmm?”
“But I never did,” Gina said. She pointed at me accusingly. “He screwed that Amy girl.” Tears of frustration welled up in her eyes. “It’s not like I did it with another guy.”
“No,” Kara said softly. “But what about Dan? Or Carl?”
I blinked and looked at Gina.
When she didn’t say anything, Kara turned to me. “The women in our family like the taste of come,” she said matter-of-factly. “Mom does, I do, Gina does, and I’m sure Leah will too, as soon as she gets her first taste.”
My penis twitched and began to jerk upright. I shifted and tried to hide it.
Kara shook her head. “Don’t hide your hard-on,” she said. “Gina should see what she’s missing.”
My eyebrows rose in shock and surprise, but I stopped trying to hide my burgeoning erection.
“Good,” Kara said. “Now where was I? Oh, yes. The women in our family like the taste of come. But I’m sure you noticed.”
“Dan and Carl were boyfriends of mine,” Kara said. “I was dating Dan last fall, and then Carl over the holidays and for a couple of months this spring.”
“Kara, no,” Gina whispered. She looked at her sister with growing desperation.
“When I’d come home from a date,” Kara said, still looking at me, “Gina loved to suck their come out of my pussy.”
Gina slumped and looked from her sister to me and then back to Kara again.
“She gets so worked up when she tastes a guy’s come,” Kara said. “So do I. She’d go down on me, and then we’d kiss, and the taste would get me all worked up too. We’d end up in a sixty-nine, getting each other off.”
My cock swelled at the mental image I conjured up.
Kara turned back to Gina and continued. “Sucking their come out of my pussy may not be the same as having sex with them,” she said. “But it’s pretty darn close. And you were having sex with me, Leah, and Lisa. At least he,” she tossed her head in my direction, “had the guts to tell you about the women he had sex with. So you can be self-righteous if you want, but I don’t think you’re that kind of hypocrite,” she said gently. “You know about Susan...”
For a moment, I wondered what she meant by that.
“...and Stacy loves him so much that she’s been trying to figure out a way for him to get you back. The only girl he cheated on you with was Amy, and he was so in love with you that it ruined their relationship.”
Gina started weeping softly but I tightly controlled the urge to reach out to her.
Kara let her cry for several long moments. Then she said, “I haven’t had sex with a guy in three weeks.”
Gina looked up quickly, tears still running down her cheeks.
“Talking about the taste of come, going down on you, and all the rest is making me incredibly horny,” Kara said. Then she nodded in my direction. “He’s got a great body, and my mouth is watering, just from looking at his hard-on.”
Gina swallowed hard and looked panicked.
“But you know I wouldn’t do that to you, Gina,” Kara said softly. “He loves you. I can see it in his eyes. So can Stacy. If you had bothered to look, you’d’ve seen it too. So as much as I want his dick,” she looked wistfully at my erection, “you know I wouldn’t do that as long as he’s your guy.”
Gina’s tears slowed and her face hardened.
“He’s a great guy, Gina. He’s smart, funny, cute, and he loves you. He’s made his mistakes, but he owned up to them and tried to make things right. But your ice princess attitude has pushed him away, and you’re this close,” she held her finger and thumb a quarter-inch apart, “to losing him.”
I looked at Gina while Kara paused for a breath. Gina studiously ignored me, and I felt my temper flare.
“So you need to decide,” Kara said to Gina. “Because this ‘punish him’ bullshit has got to stop. If you love him, you need to respect his apology. You probably need to apologize yourself. And you definitely need to try to fix your relationship.” She paused for a moment and drew a deep breath. “If you don’t love him anymore, you need to tell him, so he can move on.”
Gina set her jaw and her nostrils flared.
“If you love him, he’s your guy and you need to take care of him,” Kara said. “If you don’t love him, he’s not your guy anymore, and I’ll be more than happy to take care of him.”
I swallowed hard and looked at Kara, suddenly seeing her as a woman, and not just my (ex-?) girlfriend’s older sister.
Kara leveled her gaze at her sister. “So,” she said heavily. “Which is it gonna be?”
When Gina directed a flinty, contemptuous stare at me, I finally snapped. A torrent of inarticulate rage boiled up within me. What had I ever done to deserve such scorn from her? Sure, I guess I’d cheated on her, but I also told her the truth and I wanted to work things out.
But Kara’s revelations put Gina’s holier-than-thou attitude in an entirely new light. If Gina had even tried to talk to me about our relationship, I don’t think I would have been as angry as I was. Instead of talking, or moving on, she seemed only interested in punishing me.
And I was tired of her shit. I was over it. Enough. Done.
I stood, my erection bobbing with the suddenness of the motion. Both girls looked up at me in surprise.
“Fine, Gina,” I spat. “If you want it to be this way, that’s fine with me. I wanted to have a relationship with you. I wanted to work things out. But you only wanted to make me suffer. So I’m through. We’re through.”
I turned on my heels and stormed off.
Despite my fury, I stopped in my tracks.
Whose voice had it been? I couldn’t tell.
Did I care? I didn’t know.