game.” I dropped my clothes and walked over to the shower, turned it on, and hopped inside. I knew the steam would quickly fill up the glass and he wouldn’t be able to see through anyway. But as he finished brushing his teeth I noticed he couldn't hide his excitement or the fact that he kept looking in the mirror in order to catch a glimpse of my naked body. As he spat out his toothpaste the steam finally began to cover me. Then right before he left, he turned around and played his final hand.
“You better wash your hair.”
“Why?” I asked, confused by his sudden interest in my hygiene.
“Well because if you were in my bed I'd be yanking the shit out of your hair when I was fucking you from behind. Little Blake doesn’t do that?”
I didn’t respond.
“Shit, I have a few things to teach that kid yet.”
He walked out of the bathroom without another word and I scrubbed my skin hard trying to remove the memory of his thick cock, and how much I suddenly wanted it inside me.
2
There was a brown leather suitcase by the door. I had seen my father carry it into the house a thousand times after his business trips. He would walk in and my mother would fling her arms around him and smile. She wore an apron then, and baked, and drove my little sister to her sports.
She didn’t wear an apron anymore. She didn’t bake. She hardly looked at my father. Something was desperately wrong with my perfect upper middle class life. When I was home at Thanksgiving I could feel the tension. Maybe that’s why I didn’t come straight here. Maybe I thought I could hide at Blake’s forever. Getting lost in his arms, ignoring the dangers of the world around me.
I dropped my bags at the door next to the lonely suitcase. It was telling me something, I knew it. But I didn’t know how devastating the news was about to be.
“Mom why is Dad’s suitcase by the door? Is he going somewhere? I mean, I just got home,” I asked as I rounded the corner into the kitchen. My mom was sitting at the table holding a handkerchief. She had tears in her dark green eyes when she looked at me. I stopped dead in my tracks.
“Honey, you should sit down.”
“Why? Mom, what’s going on?”
My dad came from behind the counter. “Because there’s something we need to tell you.”
My eyes darted back and forth between them. I could feel the sinking brick in my stomach.
My dad called for my little sister, “Mackenzie, can you come down here please?”
“In a minute!” She shouted back.
“Now, Kenz,” my dad’s voice sounded stern. Had someone died?
I heard her sigh, “Fine.”
She stomped down the stairs and looked annoyed until she saw me. “Lena! Why didn’t they tell me you were home? I missed you!”
She wrapped her delicate arms around me in a hug. She was so thin yet fiercely strong. Ten years of cheerleading and running would do that to you.
I quickly whispered in her ear, “What the hell is going on? I leave you guys for three weeks and suddenly Mom is crying and Dad’s yelling at you? Things seemed pretty normal at Thanksgiving.”
She pulled away slowly, “Stuff’s been weird around here.”
I looked over my shoulder at my dad, still standing stoically in the kitchen. His arms were crossed over his broad chest and he narrowed his eyes at me. “You two should have a seat.”
I nodded and took Mackenzie's hand as I pulled her to the kitchen table. I knew whatever was coming was going to be horrific, and I felt the need to protect my little sister.
“What's this all about? And Mom, why are you crying?”
Dad came to stand behind my mom, but he didn't put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. Her slightly teary eyes had now become sobs shaking out of her body like secrets escaping her perfect form. She didn't speak, just cried with her head in her hands, unable to make eye contact with my sister or myself.
Instead my father said in a quiet gravelly voice, “Girls, your mother and I have decided to go our
“You better wash your hair.”
“Why?” I asked, confused by his sudden interest in my hygiene.
“Well because if you were in my bed I'd be yanking the shit out of your hair when I was fucking you from behind. Little Blake doesn’t do that?”
I didn’t respond.
“Shit, I have a few things to teach that kid yet.”
He walked out of the bathroom without another word and I scrubbed my skin hard trying to remove the memory of his thick cock, and how much I suddenly wanted it inside me.
2
There was a brown leather suitcase by the door. I had seen my father carry it into the house a thousand times after his business trips. He would walk in and my mother would fling her arms around him and smile. She wore an apron then, and baked, and drove my little sister to her sports.
She didn’t wear an apron anymore. She didn’t bake. She hardly looked at my father. Something was desperately wrong with my perfect upper middle class life. When I was home at Thanksgiving I could feel the tension. Maybe that’s why I didn’t come straight here. Maybe I thought I could hide at Blake’s forever. Getting lost in his arms, ignoring the dangers of the world around me.
I dropped my bags at the door next to the lonely suitcase. It was telling me something, I knew it. But I didn’t know how devastating the news was about to be.
“Mom why is Dad’s suitcase by the door? Is he going somewhere? I mean, I just got home,” I asked as I rounded the corner into the kitchen. My mom was sitting at the table holding a handkerchief. She had tears in her dark green eyes when she looked at me. I stopped dead in my tracks.
“Honey, you should sit down.”
“Why? Mom, what’s going on?”
My dad came from behind the counter. “Because there’s something we need to tell you.”
My eyes darted back and forth between them. I could feel the sinking brick in my stomach.
My dad called for my little sister, “Mackenzie, can you come down here please?”
“In a minute!” She shouted back.
“Now, Kenz,” my dad’s voice sounded stern. Had someone died?
I heard her sigh, “Fine.”
She stomped down the stairs and looked annoyed until she saw me. “Lena! Why didn’t they tell me you were home? I missed you!”
She wrapped her delicate arms around me in a hug. She was so thin yet fiercely strong. Ten years of cheerleading and running would do that to you.
I quickly whispered in her ear, “What the hell is going on? I leave you guys for three weeks and suddenly Mom is crying and Dad’s yelling at you? Things seemed pretty normal at Thanksgiving.”
She pulled away slowly, “Stuff’s been weird around here.”
I looked over my shoulder at my dad, still standing stoically in the kitchen. His arms were crossed over his broad chest and he narrowed his eyes at me. “You two should have a seat.”
I nodded and took Mackenzie's hand as I pulled her to the kitchen table. I knew whatever was coming was going to be horrific, and I felt the need to protect my little sister.
“What's this all about? And Mom, why are you crying?”
Dad came to stand behind my mom, but he didn't put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. Her slightly teary eyes had now become sobs shaking out of her body like secrets escaping her perfect form. She didn't speak, just cried with her head in her hands, unable to make eye contact with my sister or myself.
Instead my father said in a quiet gravelly voice, “Girls, your mother and I have decided to go our
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