Double Take
Chapter 43
“WICKED is good.”
—James Dashner, The Death Cure
JUST WHEN YOU THOUGHT it was safe… I hadn’t had a severe nightmare in three weeks or more. I’d had some of the typical anxiety dreams, like walking into the Human Geography AP exam and realizing I’d read the books for a different course. Or dreaming that Beca wanted to make love to me and my cock wouldn’t get hard. I sort of understood that one. She was too sweet to have a sex dream about. Even though she was wearing more feminine clothing and really starting to be comfortable in her body, I thought.
The world collapsed. Like a building imploding, everything fell in on me and crushed me. I was paralyzed. No time for fear. No chance to escape. And no chance I’d ever wake up again.
It was a dream. I could see it all taking place, but my senses wouldn’t let me escape it. I tried to replace the vision with music, with touch, with a closeup look at Joan’s pussy… but each time I grasped at a straw to save me it dissolved into the dark, airless pressure and silence.
“J! Look at me! Wake up. It’s just a dream. I won’t let go of you. I’m here, baby. I won’t let go.”
The long, whining groan that came out of my mouth as I struggled up to consciousness echoed with Em’s words and I gasped oxygen into my lungs. It hurt. Everything hurt. I could still feel the pressure against my eyelids and the grip of Em’s hand in mine. I forced my eyes open and a flood of tears poured out of them. I kicked off the blanket I was covered with, unable to stand even that much pressure against my body. That much confinement. I fought against the walls of the room closing in on me—pressed back against the claustrophobia.
“I’m here, Jacob. I won’t let go.”
“What am I going to do, Em? What am I going to do when you go to service and I’m alone? I’m scared, Em. Hold me.”
I couldn’t recall V1 having ever been frightened like a little boy clinging to another person. I’d never been claustrophobic. Never agoraphobic. Never acrophobic. I wasn’t even afraid of spiders. Not that I was reckless but those situations didn’t strike me as any more or less dangerous than any other daily activity. But this nightmare of the world collapsing was something I didn’t know how to deal with. My sisters could wake me up. My parents seemed oblivious to them. I’d heard that if you dream you are falling and don’t wake up before you hit the ground, you’d never wake up. Daft, I know. I’d never had one where I did more than trip. But I wondered. If I died in my dream, would I simply stay dead?
Em cradled me in her arms. I was sweating and she comforted me, telling me she’d get a washcloth and towel. She was back in a flash, stripping off the nightshirt she wore and crawling into my bed with me. She washed the tears from my face, bathed my pits and dried them, and wiped down my torso. I felt her lift my flaccid cock and gently wipe it down, making sure even my crack was cleaned and dry.
I understood my cock’s lack of response. Joan and I had overdone it a bit. Prom night, we’d consummated our relationship with vigorous loving. Sunday morning, she came to my house and we spent three hours trying to discover how many ways we could fit together. After we’d gone out to lunch, we ended up at her house, fucking until we were too sore to move. If I was a bit soft now, it was only natural. I’d been drained.
That didn’t stop Emily. She took my limp dick in her mouth and just held it there, sucking softly and rolling it around with her tongue. I wasn’t sure I’d ever come again, but the blood started to engorge my tool and it slowly filled her mouth, erasing even the slightest trace of the dream from my memory.
As I became more present in the moment, I caressed Em’s soft skin and pert breasts, nudging her to straddle my face as she continued her languorous blowjob. Opening Em’s pussy in the dim light was like opening a treasure and I took the hint to slowly tease open the petals of her sex with my tongue. Eating Em was a totally different experience than being with any of my other lovers. With Francie, it was all about the relief. With Rachel it is pure love. And with Joan, there was a constant drive toward orgasm, as often as we could manage it. But somehow, with Em I was totally relaxed, absorbed in the sensations of our mouths providing mutual pleasure. I loved to handle her breasts as she crouched over me, drawing lazy circles around her nipples. My tongue sought out every fold of her flesh and drank deeply of her fluids.
We both built slowly toward fulfillment; not rushing to the end point but simply loving and caring as we pleasured each other. I felt her whine on my cock and contracted, not much in my balls to give her but pulsing as she flooded my face with her juices. She moved around to face me, though I would have happily kept licking her for the rest of the night. She wiped my face with the towel and then kissed me. We held each other and kissed in no more hurry than we had been making love. I held her through the rest of the night, sharing her air, our lips sometimes touching as we slept.
“I would like to have Jacob this week,” Desi announced at lunch on Monday.
“What’s up?” I asked. “I think our contract says nothing until October.”
“Not that you could do anything before then,” Desi shot back. “You and Joan can hardly walk today.”
“Things are a little tender,” Joan admitted. “Might have overdone it a little.”
“So why do you want broken Jacob this week?” Rachel asked. “You’ll heal by Wednesday, won’t you?” she whispered in my ear. I nodded and put my arm around her waist. Desi was wedged in on the other side of me with Kent beside her and Brittany and Beca bookending Joan.
“I need a model. And a date for the Indy PopCon.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a comic convention in Indianapolis the weekend of the eighth. I need a cosplay partner.”
“Isn’t that kind of Kent’s specialty?”
“I’m headed for a summer of camping and hiking with my cousins in Colorado as soon as I finish my last final, dude. Besides, she’s your girlfriend,” Kent said.
“So, what do I have to do?”
“Just come over after school tonight so we can get measurements and start putting the pieces together. I’ll tell you about the character and how you need to act.”
“I suppose so. All my final projects are turned in, so from now until next Tuesday it’s just studying for finals. I’ll let my sister know I won’t need a ride. Uh… How are we getting to your house? Bus?”
“My mother will pick us up after school. She’s very excited to meet you again.” I’d met Desi’s mom at my party the first of March and she seemed like a really nice woman—very funny.
“Say, don’t forget summer school,” Rachel said. “You can’t go on Friday.”
“That’s right. This is just for the day Saturday, right?”
“Did you think I was inviting you away for a dirty weekend?” Desi said. “That could be fun. But no. My dad will drive us down first thing Saturday morning. We need to be there and set to show off by ten.”
My personal experience with cosplay was pretty limited. V1 was no help at all. There were several kids at school who were really into it and Desi wore some character outfit at least once a week. It seemed that on those days every cosplayer in the school swung by to take a look at her cleavage. I mean, her costume. Desi’s costumes always showed off her assets. Most cosplays were based on anime and superhero movies. Even though the movie Suicide Squad was a couple years old, there were Harley Quinns showing up almost every week.
Desi’s costumes were usually more focused on Victorian-style anime that featured elegant dresses and lots of cleavage—mostly from fandoms that I’d never heard of. Every time she wore a costume to school, I ended up watching a few episodes late at night on my laptop. Last week, I’d gone to sleep one night watching Code Geass and had really weird dreams about Desi as C.C.
Mrs. Whitcomb insisted I call her Riko. I don’t think that’s her name. Desi pulled the seat forward and I got in the back of Riko’s VW Beetle. It was about ten years old and was showing some rust in the yellow paint. I was surprised when Desi shoved me the rest of the way in and landed mostly on top of me in the back seat. With the door closed, Riko hit the gas.
“Cuddle up, buttercup!” she called gleefully. There wasn’t much else I could do with Desi lying mostly on top of me. With interesting parts of her in contact with me, like the big boob in the palm of my right hand. Riko turned a corner at speed and Desi’s body shifted on top of me like it was spring loaded on her boobs.
“Whee!” she called as she tried to crawl up my torso to kiss me. I prayed Riko wouldn’t get in an accident and then forgot about it as Desi kissed me and I squeezed her breast.
“Wow!” I said when we finally reached the house. “You should go to work at the amusement park and just offer rides in the back of your Beetle.”
“Would you really want Desi lying on top of every boy who wanted a ride?” Riko asked. “Or under him? Now, let’s get things ready so we can get this costume constructed. What have you told him, Desi?”
“Nothing, Mother,” she said primly and then gave me a very mischievous look. I had a feeling I was in big trouble.
“Okay. Milk and cookies. Can’t work without feeding the boy. Desiree, get the tape measure and chart. We’ll start measuring while Jacob eats.” The two started scurrying around like mice as cookies and milk were set out and I was pushed into different positions to get measured.
I’d guess Riko was an inch or two shorter than Desi and a few inches bigger in the chest. Christ! If Desi’s tits got that big, she’d fall over forward. But at least she’d bounce. And Riko never stopped talking.
“Nice strong muscles. A little skinny, don’t you think? We could make him Ichigo from Bleach if we did a little makeup on his abs. He’s not flabby, just not quite cut. But the long black robe and a little dye-job on his hair would make him stunning. We still have your Rukia costume.”
“I had no boobs then, Mother,” Desi said. “If I’m going to do Rukia, I’d rather do Ryuko Matoi in Kill la Kill. You’ve never let me wear that costume out.”
“You know the requirements for that costume.”
“Yeah. I have to glue my nipples in the top.”
“And have a bodyguard.”
“You sound like you do this a lot,” I ventured.
“Oh, didn’t Desiree tell you?” Riko asked. “This is what we do for a living. You didn’t think Desiree makes all those costumes herself, did you?”
“Mother!”
“Not that she isn’t capable,” Riko hastened to add. “But spending that much time on costumes would definitely affect her grades. And her social life. Now summer… That’s different.”
“You sew during the summer?” I asked Desi.
“Yeah, but my responsibility has always been to model the outfits. Indy PopCon is the first of the summer season. We’ll be traveling all over the country from con to con. Mom has a sales booth at just about every fandom convention in the country. Didn’t you know that Joan bought all her sailor outfits from Mom?”
“No. Wow! That actually pays… I mean… er… what does Mr. Whitcomb do?” They pretended not to notice my faux pas.
“He works in sales,” Riko said. “Riley will drive you down to the convention on Saturday morning and as soon as you are in costume, he’ll be dragging you around the convention floor selling the costumes right off your backs, so to speak. Don’t worry, I’ll have spares. You won’t have to go naked. Completely. Now what are we going to do with you?”
They led me to a basement that looked like a tailor’s warehouse. Different sewing machines were lined up against one wall. A big old-fashioned ironing press that Desi called a mangle was on one side. Scissors and patterns were scattered on a big cutting table with bolts of fabric stacked up on one wall. The next room was hanger rack after rack of costumes. For a home business, this was huge!
“This one, Mom. This one!” Desi called bringing what looked like a tuxedo from a rack. “He looked so good dressed up Saturday night. You wouldn’t believe what girls were saying. Right in front of their dates! It was all ‘Joan won the lottery,’ and ‘how does the slut get all the best guys?’ I swear, some of their dates were ready to pick a fight until I pointed out that Jacob couldn’t care less about anyone at the prom other than Joan. And to look at them… It was just so obvious they were in love.”
I had no idea we’d created a stir at the prom. What Desi said about having eyes only for Joan, though, was true. Other than Joan, Desi, and Em, I couldn’t tell you the name of one other girl at the prom.
“Oh, yes!” Riko exclaimed. “Tall. Thin. Nicely tapered. Work with him on the haughty attitude and he’ll be a perfect Black Butler, Sebastian Michaelis. Hurry, Jacob. Take your clothes off and let’s get this on you.” Take my clothes off? In front of Desi and her mom?
“He’s embarrassed, Mom,” Desi said. “You go upstairs and I’ll get him ready. And you know how I’ve wanted to wear the Madam Red. It will be perfect!”
“Oh. Very well,” Riko said as she headed to the stairs. “Now we have a lot of work to do. No time for hanky-panky. Understand?”
“Yes, Mom.” Riko hadn’t yet disappeared when Desi was unfastening my belt. “Take your shirt off, Jacob,” she said as she unzipped me.
“Um… Desi… I’ll be…” She squeezed my cock.
“Not yet, but I’ll fix that,” she said. She pushed my jeans to my ankles and made me step out of them. I pulled off my polo shirt and was in just my boxers and socks. Desi stepped back and started pulling her clothes off. That solved the question of whether or not I’d get an erection. I quickly tucked it back inside the flap of my shorts. Desi was down to just a bra and panties and was reaching behind herself. She suddenly stopped and turned toward me with a blush that turned her whole front red. “Um… Maybe the first time I go topless with you, you should take my bra off. Okay?” She stepped toward me and pressed her boobs into my chest.
Before I reached around her, I lifted her chin so I could kiss her. She automatically started rubbing her middle against my stiffy. I reached around her as we kissed and found the latch on her super-strength brassiere. I could feel the difference against my chest as the compression of the bra released. I tugged it down her arms and it slipped down between us until her bare breasts were pressed firmly against my chest. I kissed my way down her neck and over those glorious orbs—Shit. Ms. Levy would hate for me to use that word.—glorious breasts and took her right nipple between my lips to kiss and lick. Then I moved across to the left side and showed it equal love.
“Oh, God!” she said, stepping away from me. Her figure was exquisite. I know I talk about her boobs because they are just so obvious, but the rest of her stacks up to the advertising. She had an hour-glass figure and if her stomach wasn’t perfectly flat, it was just a little soft. She wore bikini panties and they were pulled snugly up against her slit. I’d seen her legs in short skirts several times, but bare from her bikini to her toes, they were exquisite.
“God, you’re beautiful, Desiree,” I breathed.
“Mmm. Thank you. You too,” she panted. “Um… We have to get dressed. Mom said no time to fool around. Right now. Maybe later.” She handed me the white shirt and I started pulling it on while she lifted my feet to get the trousers on. She pulled them up, hugging my hips when she got that high, which pressed my hard on up against her face. She gave it a playful little nibble through my shorts and then finished getting the trousers snapped. I tucked in the shirt. I thought it was a little big, but once I got the waistcoat and tails on it felt pretty good. Not quite as good a fit as the prom tux, but good.
“There. Now we can get Mom.”
“But um… you’re still naked,” I said. And looking at Desi, my desire was outstanding in my pants.
“Oh. Yeah. Be right back.” She dashed into the closet room and a couple seconds later was back with a bright red, floor-length dress. Once it was out of its plastic bag, she handed it to me and showed me how to hold it for her as she stepped into it. She started to cover herself and let the dress slip down beneath her breasts. She looked me in the eye with her lower lip caught between her teeth and said, “One more little kiss for each, please?” Happy to oblige, I sucked on each nipple for a second while I lifted and squeezed those magnificent boobs with my hands. She sighed and pulled the dress the rest of the way up before turning to show me the back and the zipper. I had it almost all the way up when Riko came bouncing down the stairs.
“Oh, yes. Perfect!” she said. She opened the jacket and waistcoat to look at the shirt. “We’ll need a fifteen-and-a-half shirt, baby,” she said to Desi. “I can’t imagine why there was an extra large on the same hanger. Now let’s see. Just the waistcoat.” She used chalk to mark tucks she would take and then pinned them together to see if it was too tight on me. Then she added the tails. Desi produced a packaged formal shirt to show me. This time I’d need studs and cufflinks. While Riko worked on the fit of the jacket, Desi measured my arm. She shook her head and disappeared again. A minute later she was back with a shirt that looked the same as the other.
“Longer sleeve,” she said. “Your cuffs should meet your gloves.” She moved over to a stack of shelves and came back with a pair of white gloves while her mother started working on the seat of my pants. The cuffs would need to be lengthened as well. I wondered if I was growing. “Do you have black shoes that you can polish to a high sheen?” Desi asked.
“Yes. I wore them Saturday and got a little scuffed while dancing, but I can get them polished up.”
“Are they comfortable?”
“Surprisingly, yes. They have a neoprene sole and a good innersole.”
“Good. You’ll be on your feet all day, don’t forget.”
By the time Riko took me home, I’d been measured for two other costumes to hold in reserve. Desi never changed out of the Madam Red dress, though.
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