The Rock
10 Game On!
WE WERE DISCREET and tried not to make too much noise, but Nikki was pretty demanding that night.
“I love all of you,” she whispered to me. “But we were in that tiny room with everyone practically on top of each other and they all wanted to kill me. I know that’s the crazy talking. I took my pill. I just wanted to kill everyone. Brian, make it go away!”
We left all the rest of the girls on the foam mattresses on the floor and I took Nikki to bed. I was kissing my way down her body to her wide-spread legs when the bed shifted. I glanced up to see Liz next to us.
“I’m here, girlfriend,” Liz whispered. “You can hold my hand while he works his magic if you want.” Nikki grabbed Liz’s offered hand. She was breathing fast. “I wish I could help you. I will if you really want me to,” Liz said. “I just don’t think you get anything out of having a girl touch you and I sure don’t. But I’m your friend, Nicolette Duval. You can grab hold of me any time. I’m your friend.”
Nikki rolled her head toward Liz and pulled their hands to her mouth as she mounted toward her orgasm. I swear she practically came off the bed as I licked her and then kept licking. She didn’t come down from the first before she launched into the second and then faded, whimpering. I crawled up her body and kissed her softly. Then I lifted my lips to Liz. She kissed me.
“Tomorrow for me?” she whispered. I nodded. “You should go back to the rest of our hearthmates now. We’ll be okay.”
Wow! Liz and Nikki had really developed a strong friendship. The bikes weren’t just a fluke.
I’d been drafted by my cheerleader girlfriends to do a homecoming hoop for the last game of the season. Brenda had achieved her life-long ambition and was head cheerleader. It’s funny. Cheering was a passion for Brenda. For Rose it was something fun to do. I could see the gleam in Lexi’s eye when she talked about cheer. If at all possible, she’d follow in Brenda’s footsteps. But Brenda wanted something different than the flaming hoop that had been Renee’s idea. She wanted to make her own mark and she had a captive chemist to put it together for her.
I did some research at the university and my professor was very helpful. He even suggested that I have Mr. Johnson, the high school chemistry teacher, order the components for me. They were readily available from Edmunds Scientific. It was easy. Dark pyro aluminum powder and potassium perchlorate. Mr. J. wanted to know how I was going to handle mixing and igniting the mixture, of course. You can’t just lean over and light a match. Not if you want to keep your hands and your eyes and other valuable body parts. We rigged a pressure switch with a power strip surge protector in front of it. For a tray, I went down to Honnecker’s Carpet Store and got a carpet tube. Cut in half it made a perfect tray and we could pour a fine bead of the aluminum powder in it and a measured amount of perchlorate over the top of it and then rock the tube back and forth gently to mix it. Mr. J bought plenty of both chemicals and we did a test on the track after basketball practice one evening.
People were all wondering what was going on when the cheerleaders came out without the hoop and paper we’d used the past few years. When the girls took their places several yards away from the flash pot, people were trying to figure out what was going on. Then the announcer said the magic words. “Ladies and gentlemen, the St. Joe Valley Trojans!” I hit the switch. It went boom. A sheet of flame and smoke went up from the tray and by the time it was clear, Jackson was leading the varsity football team through the smoke and onto the field. People went wild. I wondered who the heck was going to be the cheerleaders’ geek next year.
We won the game and I took Rose to the dance after. She was beautiful, but neither Brenda nor Rose ran for homecoming queen. Both decided they had all the honors they wanted at home. After the crowning and big dance, we all left. Ms. Hammer wasn’t there to remind us that there was no readmission.
Football homecoming had been Friday night and our first basketball game was on Saturday afternoon. It was an exhibition game. The season didn’t start for another week, but we met South Whitley as if it was the state final. Josh, Bert, and I at guards were the only ones on the team under six feet tall. Our forwards mastered the boards and Lionel showed that his brother wasn’t the only legend that was going to come out of St. Joe Valley.
Coach Hancock was different than Coach Mitchell in a lot of ways, but not the least was how he played us. He honestly believed that if you were good enough to play varsity basketball then you were first string. There was never an idea that if you started a game that you were better than anyone else. Even in our practices, we played with vests to show who was on which team. If you were playing on the yellow team, when you came off the court, you switched to a blue vest. The next time you went in, you were on the blue team. If he saw that you weren’t well-coordinated with a particular teammate, instead of pairing you with someone you did work well with, Coach made you keep playing with that teammate until you got your acts together.
In a game, he substituted a player at every buzzer. He’d tap me on the shoulder, for example, and say “Josh, next buzzer.” I’d run to the score-keepers, report in, and when the next buzzer sounded, I’d run onto the floor and wave Josh off. This accomplished three things. First, we all stayed fresh. When you came off the court, seven other guys would go in before you were called again. Second, it kept us alert. We had to keep track of what was going on all the time. We couldn’t just go to sleep on the bench or let our minds wander. And third, it confused the bejeezus out of our opponents. I couldn’t believe it when Coach tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Barry, next buzzer.” At five-six, I was still the shortest guy on the team and I was going in for a forward who was a foot taller than me. But coach drilled us on playing with three, four, and even five guards. Or everyone at forward. Opposing teams had no idea what to do with us. Suddenly, a forward from the opponents had to come out from under the basket to guard me or we’d have three guys working the ball in the backcourt with only two guards trying to play us. And you should have seen the confusion on their guards’ faces when we threw four forwards and a center under the basket and left no one in the backcourt. Well, it sure worked against South Whitley.
There was one awkward point. Of seven cousins who played basketball, six had made the varsity squad, including sophomore Rich and junior George. That left only Geoff back in JV. He went to Coach Hancock and told him that he really didn’t have his heart in playing basketball because he liked baseball so much. He asked the coach if instead of playing JV he could manage the varsity team. I think Coach recognized part of the problem and agreed. Team manager is a pretty crappy position. Sounds glorious but isn’t. He does the laundry, makes sure there’s fresh towels in the locker room, and washes the uniforms after a game. He also makes sure we have marked practice balls in a canvas bag for warming up, has a game ball ready for each home game and a spare for each away game. He has to make sure they’re all inflated exactly right. Then he has water for us when we come off the court, towels on the bench, and makes notes for Coach during practice or the game. If a player is injured, the team manager is the first one on the floor, and the last one to leave after he’s wiped up the sweat off the hardwood.
Suffice it to say that Geoff was the most respected and well-treated team manager that St. Joe Valley had ever seen. And being our team manager meant that he traveled with us, not with the JV.
“Geoff, how’s it working out, buddy?” I asked as we rode home together after the game.
“So far, so good, Bri. I think I’ve got it easier than any team manager before me,” he laughed.
“I’m sorry you’re not playing, but I think you’re doing a better job than any team manager before you. How are things with Robyn?” I asked. Might as well get it on the table.
“It’s good. I know what you’re thinking. I’m taking advantage of her because she wants to stay a virgin and I’m the last guy who would want to take her virginity. Just so you know, I told her. She was thrilled.”
“Really?”
“She’s always wanted a gay friend,” he laughed. Damn, it was good to hear him so light-hearted. He’d been pretty depressed when Sora started hanging out with me.
“She doesn’t think she can, like, change you, does she?”
“No, I don’t think so. She knows that changing me would mean losing her virginity. She’s really paranoid about that. But she’s a neat girl, Brian. I like her and I respect her. I think we’ll be friends for a long time.”
“You know, you can be compañera without belonging to a casa.”
“I think we’ll look at that a little further down the line,” he said. “Nobody expects us to have that kind of relationship a week after she joined the clan.”
I was satisfied.
Sunday morning, I woke up alone. That was more and more unusual these days. Whitney and I went out Saturday night, had a great time talking about our basketball teams and then she invited me to her house where we made sweet-sweet love for a couple of hours. I just never get tired of her long, lean body and feeling her muscles rippling under me and around me. I remember reading in one of the Dune books a description of a woman who ‘could kill with any muscle in her body.’ I was sure he was describing Whitney. From my fairy queen friend of fifth grade to my martial arts master to my sensuous lover, Whitney and I had grown and changed over the years but in all had only grown closer.
When her mom and Dave got home from their evening out, Whitney and I sat around and talked with them for a while. It was obvious that I wasn’t invited to spend the night, so I kissed Whitney lovingly on her doorstep and went home. It was one o’clock and the girls were already asleep so I just went upstairs and went to bed.
I woke up with the images of a very intense dream still floating in front of my eyes. Hannah’s deep green eyes as we made love. I could feel her wrapping me in her arms and whispering, ‘I still love you.’ It was almost enough to make me weep and I tried to hold the image in my mind for as long as I could. I love you, honey. I love you and I will never give up on having you with me.
I went downstairs and made up bread dough. There were two activities that could always calm and settle my mind—making bread and brushing horses. I looked out the kitchen window and could see frost on the ground. The horses wouldn’t mind staying in their nice warm stalls for a while. At least until after sunrise. I put a dishtowel over the bread bowl and left it on the counter with all kinds of thoughts whirling through my mind. Chemistry, cooking, horses, girls, basketball, classes, English lit, girls. There was so much going on in my life. I needed to focus on something. Girls.
I poked my head into Jennifer and Courtney’s room, thinking I’d just give them some loving. They were so sweet together. I still didn’t think they often had sex with each other. Both were enthusiastically heterosexual most of the time. But they loved each other. It’s one of those weird things where love is beyond sex. Maybe like Doug and Doreen. I thought I might call her this afternoon. What I saw in front of me, though, gave me other thoughts. Like me, the girls usually slept nude. They were facing each other and somehow their blanket had shifted so that Jennifer’s round little ass was sticking out. I started to get hard just looking at her. On my fourteenth birthday, she’d crawled naked into my sleeping bag at the dude ranch. I had no idea at the time how frightened she’d been… and how brave.
“Jennifer,” I whispered in her ear as I petted her bare bottom. “Little Girl Scout, wake up.” She shook her head slightly and pushed her bottom more firmly into my hand. I put little kisses along her neck and jaw and she turned to look at me. “Get up, my little Girl Scout. It’s time for you to come to my room.” Her eyes popped open wide and her breath caught. She glanced toward Courtney and I shook my head. I stood back and held out my hand to her. Jen had come from deep sleep to aroused and almost panicked wakefulness in an instant. She took my hand and I led her to the stairs. She was doing pretty well with her physical therapy and although she still took the crutches when she went out or to school, she walked without them in the house. I let her lead me at her own pace up the stairs staring at that beautiful behind and breathing in her scent.
“Now, Brian?” she asked when we were both in my room. I nodded. “May I use the potty first?” I smiled and held the door open for her. I stood in the open door watching her as she tinkled in the pot. She watched me as I removed my clothes. I stepped in front of her and she took me in her mouth until I was as hard as I could get. Then I stepped back and she blotted herself dry. We washed our hands and I led her to my bed. “Is this my punishment, Brian?” Tears were leaking from her eyes and her breath was coming in little gasps.
“Little Girl Scout, we can forget this game and say it’s over and just make love if you want. We’ve had our fun with it.”
“No! I’ve spent three months thinking about how one day you were going to bend me over your lap and I’d wait for that one smack. I’ve come dozens of times thinking about it. You love me, don’t you, Brian?”
“I love you more than the world, Jennifer.”
“Maybe we won’t do this again,” she whispered. “But please, don’t make me wait any longer.”
“Today is your lucky day.” I sat on the bed. She stood facing me, her breasts heaving, her legs parted slightly. I could see her juices already escaping from her pussy lips and could smell her aroma. I looked at her and raised an eyebrow.
“Brian, my lover, my cónyuge, I give you explicit permission to touch me in any way you desire. I give you permission to caress me, to suck me, to penetrate me in any opening.” That was new. Jennifer liked having her asshole played with when we were making love, but as far as I knew she’d never allowed anything to penetrate it. “And while I am laid naked across your bare lap and hard cock, I give you permission… no, I beg you, please… to give me one… hard… smack on my bare bottom.” Jen caught her breath and I thought she might have just had an orgasm while giving me her permission. Her scent was the strongest I’d ever smelled from her. Pre-come was dribbling out the head of my cock just from watching and listening to her. I motioned her toward me and after a moment of testing the strength of her leg to support her as she bent over me, she settled across my lap with my cock trapped against our stomachs. “My mouth is yours. My breasts are yours. My pussy is yours. My bottom is yours. My cónyuge, I am yours,” she whispered.
She jumped when I laid my hand softly on her derriere. I petted her and ran my hand all the way up her back to her shoulders, pushing her hair aside as she moaned against me. My left hand slipped under her and traced circles around her nipples. Jen was hunching back and forth and up and down against me as best she could in this position. When I pinched a nipple, she came. It wasn’t a huge orgasm, but she was so on the edge that she couldn’t wait. I ran my right hand down her back and returned to her butt, parting her cheeks so I could continue past her tailbone, brushing against her asshole as I dipped down into her wet, hot pussy. When I reached her clit, her next orgasm was more intense and louder. She slapped her own hand against her mouth. I grabbed one of my pillows and handed it to her and she screamed into it. There was a flood of juice flowing from her pussy and even my thigh was being soaked.
“I love you, Jennifer,” I said softly. “I think I’ve loved you since the moment you fell into my arms from Jubal’s back. Before you even crawled into my sleeping bag like a naughty, naked little Girl Scout.” My finger was moving in and out of her steamy pussy as I spoke. “I’ve loved all the little games we’ve played. I love that you brought Courtney into my life. I love touching your breasts and your bottom and your pussy. I love kissing you. I love hearing you moan. Jennifer, I love you to the depth of my soul.” I flicked her clit once and she started to come again. That’s when I pulled my hand back and landed a sound smack on her right butt cheek.
The pillow was forgotten. Jennifer arched her back and let out such a piercing scream that I was sure it woke everyone in the house up. I sank my finger back into her pussy to get it good and wet and then pushed it into her asshole. Her scream continued. Then she was pushing up and turning to face me to straddle me. I barely got a condom on my cock before she slammed down on me, screaming out another orgasm. I supported most of her weight with my hands on her butt as she worked on rising and falling on me again, throwing her head from side to side as she continued to wail. Tears were flowing from her eyes and she could only inhale to scream again. The action on my cock was more than I could take and I started pumping. That just set Jennifer off again only this time she sucked in breath like she couldn’t get enough to fill her lungs and then slumped forward on me, unconscious.
“Holy shit!” Courtney said from the top of the stairs. I did some shuffling and got Jennifer and I fully on the bed so I could lie back with her stretched out on top of me. My cock was still firmly in her pussy and I was still hard enough that I wasn’t going anyplace. I heard voices downstairs. “It’s okay, Moms,” Courtney called down the stairs. “Jennifer just had a dream… come true.” She giggled a little and joined us on the bed as Jennifer began to stir.
“I love you. I love you. I love you,” Jennifer moaned over and over as she clenched down on my cock. “I never want to let you go. Stay in me. Fill me over and over. I love you.”
Our season opener was an away game at Whitcomb. They’d always been big rivals and a big team. They still averaged an inch or so taller than our team, but if it hadn’t been for me, that average would have been closer. Still, they’d always been a local basketball powerhouse. When the St. Joe Valley Trojans took the court against them that Friday night, they didn’t know what hit them. Everyone on our team scored against them and half of us were in double digits. We left the field house with a 98-71 victory. As far as I knew, no St. Joe Valley team had ever scored a hundred points in a game and we were so close. We’d never run a score up like that with a school like Churubusco, but it felt good to get a little payback against Whitcomb. We could already start to smell a state championship.
The weekend was hectic, as usual. I had my taping on Saturday morning and Saturday afternoon I went out to play with Liz and Nikki. I refreshed both their henna rose tattoos and sucked on their nipples while I did it. We tried a three-way with Nikki riding my face while Liz rode my cock. Neither girl particularly wanted to touch the other, but they didn’t mind getting their cookies at the same time.
“Anecdotally, we are told that after he submitted the first draft to his editor, the author was told to ‘steal his shoes.’ ‘His’ being the main character, not the editor. What did the editor mean by this?” Ms. Hammer asked. “What happens when you steal the hero’s shoes?”
“Oh, I know,” Bill said. We all looked at him. He didn’t often participate in class. His sister Mary had given me a few insights into his character and we remained merely classmates with no interaction. “In Die Hard, Bruce Willis gets stuck without his shoes when they shoot glass windows out all around him. His feet get all cut up and he’s in pain and can’t move quickly. Then they start tracking him by the blood.” We all just sat there. This was senior English lit and he was talking about a movie. I remembered seeing it with Sugar a couple years ago and she challenged me to make her come at the climax of the movie. Yippee-ki-yay.
“Very good,” Ms. Hammer said. Huh? That was good? “People, not all literature is in print. Now tell me, did losing his shoes make his job more difficult? Would it have been a shorter movie if he had stayed shod?”
“He spent a lot of time trying to overcome the obstacle,” Tori Horst said. Tall, willowy white-blonde of Norwegian heritage. I wasn’t the only guy in the class that got a boner when attention was called to her. It was just automatic. I understood she was a dancer, but other than seeing each other in class and saying hi for the past six years, I hardly knew her. “It made his job more difficult.”
“And what happened to Keith in The Gutenberg Rubric?” Ms. Hammer asked, deftly turning the conversation back to the book we’d read.
“In the opening scene, he gets caught in an explosion and broken glass rains down on him,” I said. “He ends up in the hospital.”
“Now what are the two things that Keith most needs in order to do his job as an antiquarian and to fulfill the mission in the catacombs?”
“His eyes and his hands. That’s what the author took away from him. One eye is patched and both hands are bandaged. The author stole his shoes,” Brenda said.
“This is good. What were the results?”
“He had to depend on Maddie and his grandfather,” Brenda said. “He couldn’t do everything for himself. He even has to depend on the Homeland Security agent.”
“It’s more than that,” Nikki said. She looked around and cringed at having been excited enough to break into the discussion.
“Go on, Miss Duval. What more?” Ms. Hammer said.
“He had to depend on something deeper within him.” I looked at her. “When he’s down in the catacombs and has to make the alloy, he needs the sensitivity of his hands and his eyes. Even when his bandages catch fire and he rips them off and his eyepatch off, he still can’t rely on either his sense of touch or his sense of sight. He has to trust his… intuition, I guess. He only gets one shot and he ignores the scales and the color of the melting metals. He just knows when it is right and does it.”
“And how does that compare to Hamlet?” Ms. Hammer asked.
“Hamlet is a coward,” Josh stated flatly. “He knows what’s right. He knows he should act on his knowledge and instead he mutters a bunch of ‘oh no, maybe I should just kill myself.’ His inaction results in him being sent away with a death sentence, his lover killing herself, his mother getting poisoned, Laertes dying and Hamlet strangling the king. Then he dies anyway. He knew what was necessary. He should have acted during the play when he ‘caught the conscience of the king.’ He’s a coward. Keith isn’t.”
Friday, I walked out of my advanced foods class to head for the lunchroom and Sam was waiting outside the door for me. I smiled and she rushed to take my hand as we walked slowly.
“Brian? Lover? Cónyuge? Best boyfriend any girl ever had?” she said as she pulled back on me.
“Yes, my Cutie, my cónyuge, oh girl with the softest, silkiest legs and pussy that man has ever touched. What is it, Cutie?”
“Only one man has ever touched,” she corrected. “Would you touch it? Kiss it? Lick it? Fuck it? Right now?”
“Uh… Samantha, we’re in school and I have to meet Whitney to go into town for class.”
“She’ll wait.” Samantha glanced around at the empty hall, opened the door to a janitor closet, and pulled me in. She dropped to her knees to unfasten my belt and zipper and swallowed my cock. I was in shock, but not too much so to get an erection. Samantha and sucking. There was no way possible not to get aroused.
“Honey, I don’t have a…” She held up her hand with a foil packet in it. Hell. Why not? I tore it open and reached down. She took it, put it in her mouth and sucked my cock into the condom. When did she learn that? And how?
“Quick, Brian. I don’t have panties on and I’m dripping. Put your cock in me.” She turned and bent over the sink, getting a firm handhold. I flipped her little corduroy skirt up and saw that gorgeous naked butt. From this angle, I could see her pussy open and drooling. I just stepped up to the task and pushed in. Samantha and sucking and fucking. Who really cared that we were in school? I reached around and held her waist with my left hand while my right dove into her pussy to find her clit. She was going crazy.
“Faster, Brian. Fuck me harder. I’m so close. Like you did Sora. Do me like you did her and come in me!” Her volume was increasing and she slapped her own hand across her mouth. Then she grabbed my left hand from her waist and pulled it up to cover her mouth. I slammed into her over and over and I could feel her scream vibrating against my hand and her pussy vibrating against my cock. I pounded her for about three more strokes and then pushed in as far as I could and started pumping. Sam’s volume increased, even muffled by my hand. Then she stiffened and went limp. I caught her and held her up, still impaled on my spurting cock.
“Mmm. That was so good,” she moaned.
“We probably could have waited until tonight, but, yeah, it was good.”
“I think you’re going to be busy with a couple cheerleaders after the game tonight,” she giggled. She turned in my arms pulling me out of her and carefully tucked me into my painted senior cords and zipped. “You should probably step into a restroom and take that thing off. It looked pretty full.” She kissed me, opened the door a crack to peek out, and stepped out into the hall. She was about three steps away when her skirt finally fell back down to cover her butt.
We raced toward Thanksgiving. The refs invoked the fifty-point rule for the last game before the break. We were leading Harrison Military Academy 75-25 in the middle of the third period. We didn’t try to humiliate them. Everything we put up went in the basket. They couldn’t hit anything even when we weren’t guarding them. The only thing we could have done is shoot for them. They walked past us on the court and one of their players just turned to look at us and said, “Awesome.”
“Mom! Sarah’s stopping on her way home Wednesday night.”
“That’s wonderful, honeybunch.”
“Uh… Mom? I should have said she’s stopping for the night on her way home Wednesday.”
“Oh, my. Brian, you know I trust you but I have to ask. You aren’t using Sarah just to stay near to Hannah, are you?” I looked at Mom and I know she could see the tears trying to get out of my eyes. I wouldn’t let them.
“Mom, remember when Jessica left? Sarah and I came together because she left us both and we were the only ones who understood. Hannah’s been… pulling away from Sarah, too. We share a lot of the same pain. But I would never substitute Sarah for Hannah, Mom. Sarah and I have a lot in common—more than we ever thought when she joined the group three years ago. I love her for her, not for Hannah.”
“It still hurts, doesn’t it, son?”
“Mom, some days I don’t know how I’ll get through the day without seeing her. I have to find a way to stop this and bring her home. Here home.”
“It’s only eight more months until she’s eighteen. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“I won’t, Mom.”
The night with Sarah was a lot of talking, a lot of holding, a little crying, and a little sex. She’d dated a few times this fall, but she called them ‘stand-ins who couldn’t stand up’ to the standard we set in our group.
“I made the mistake of telling Hannah that and comparing her so-called boyfriend the same way,” Sarah moaned. “She hasn’t spoken to me since. She hasn’t spoken to Dad either. They were so close, Brian. Dad is broken-hearted. It’s showing in his work and he’ll probably get moved to some little Podunk village church this year. You know how he was with kids and youth. He doesn’t have a single teenager in his congregation.”
“I’m so sorry, baby. What do you think is going on?”
“Dad wouldn’t relent about letting her move back up here. I think it’s a mistake, but where would she go? She’s barely seventeen. She basically told him that at least he still had one daughter.”
“Ouch. I wish there was something I could do. She’s made it clear she doesn’t want to talk to me.”
“Keep the faith, Brian. She still loves you.”
The rest of Thanksgiving was a constant rotation of people in and out of our house and my bed. And it wasn’t just my cónyuge. Sora, Brenda, Rhiannon, and Doreen all found time to be with me for an hour or two. And sometimes, there were others in the room at the same time. The conversation buzzing around us was all about formalizing the casa and establishing a name for the clan at a big ritual on the Winter Solstice, Rose’s birthday.
The leading suggestion was Clan of the Hearth because we all considered each other hearthmates within the casa. But we called each other cousins within the clan so there was a lot of debate as to whether hearth was a clan term or a casa term. Other suggestions were Clan of the Dawn, of the Oak (or some other tree), and even someone’s suggestion that it be called Clan Brian, which I put down with a resounding veto.
Aside from Thanksgiving Day, there was a constant parade of naked girls in my room. On Thursday, we were all a little reserved because in addition to Moms and Dad, Courtney’s parents were there. Samantha, Lexi, Lily, and Sly joined us, too. Bill suggested something really unconventional and he spent the morning teaching me how to prepare a goose. Actually, two. The secret to fixing a goose is to make sure it doesn’t sit in its grease. The birds are really oily and if there isn’t plenty of room beneath the goose so air circulates all around it then the grease is all you taste. We’ve got a convection oven and after promising that he would personally clean the oven when we were done, he placed the birds directly on the oven rack with a drip pan on the next shelf down. He’d pricked the skin all over with a large needle. He said that would keep the grease from being trapped inside the bird. That’s one reason you don’t stuff a goose with bread stuffing, but he sliced oranges and filled the cavity. In a convection oven, you lower the heat as it circulates all around the roast, so we were at a mere 275 degrees.
Let me just say that the Thanksgiving goose was a big hit. Samantha, Jennifer, and Courtney stayed with me that night and I had a lot to be thankful for.
Saturday night, it was only the girls from my casa who were in my room. I noticed a not-so-subtle shift in things. By the time I came out of the bathroom—being the last to go in—all my casa were standing in the middle of the room naked. Only Hannah and Sarah were missing. Even Mary, Nikki, and Cassie were naked. Of course, Samantha, Jennifer, and Courtney were all more likely to be naked in my house than clothed. Rose, Liz, Whitney, Sora, and Elaine had no difficulty taking their clothes off once it was only our casa.
“Uh… is everyone okay with the nudity?” I asked.
“Love, we wouldn’t be naked if we hadn’t checked with everyone. Well, except you,” Rose said. “Brian, are you okay with the nudity?” I looked around at the eleven naked teenagers who surrounded me.
“I would have to be crazy not to be okay with this,” I said. “You are all—each and every one—beautiful women. Do you mind if I undress, too?”
“We’re all admirers, Brian. Please let us help you out of those uncomfortable looking pajamas,” Sora said as she began pulling my T-shirt off.
“Sora, I’m so glad you could get home and join us this weekend,” I said. “I’ve missed you this fall.” I kissed her as I felt my pajama pants being pulled down around my stiffening cock. Sora rubbed herself against me and then stepped aside so I could kiss Elaine.
“Elaine, my treasure. I’m so glad we’ve been able to get together more frequently this fall than the past two years. But darling, once a month is still too little.”
“Don’t I know it!” And so it went as each of my hearthmates approached me for a goodnight kiss and pressed herself against me.
“Mary? Are you okay with this? I don’t want you to feel rushed into becoming more active than you want.”
“Wow! You really are so nice. I might not be ready to sleep with you, but I’d like to go out on a date sometime,” she answered.
“Don’t worry, Mary,” Jennifer giggled. “When you want to actually have sex with Brian, you’ll have to tell him explicitly and then listen to him try to talk you out of it.”
“I think we could have a nice, fully-clothed date next weekend if you’d like,” I laughed.
“I wonder how Josh will react to seeing us all naked together,” Cassie said as she kissed me gently. “I hope he doesn’t get too conservative while I’m getting more liberal.”
“Let your conscience be your guide, Cass. And why would Josh see us all naked together?”
“Well, if he became a part of our casa. At the moment, we’re the only casa with only one male. If… or when Josh and I get serious, I hope he’ll want to join our casa.”
“Wow! I never thought about that.”
“Now that all your hearthmates, your compañera, and your cónyuge have you all excited, come to bed with me, my love,” Rose said. All the other girls started preparing places on the foam pads as I followed Rose to bed and we spooned together watching the rest of our household settling for the night. My rigid cock was trapped right against Rose’s butt. She reached behind and pulled it between her legs, rubbing it in her very wet pussy slit. She positioned it at her opening and pushed back against me. “Push into me, love. Love me as we watch our family together.”
“Rose, with everyone in the room?”
“Those who are interested will watch. Those who aren’t will ignore us. I’d bet mostly on the former.” Indeed, most of the girls seemed to be turning toward the squeaks that were coming from my bedsprings. I started to pull the covers up over us but Rose pushed them down again, past where we were joined. She held my hand to her breast and rocked back and forth on my cock. “We are a house of love,” she whispered. “I love you all and I love each one of you.”
“Maybe that’s what we should name the clan,” Mary sighed. She was watching us intently and one of her hands cupped her pussy.
“The Clan of Love?” Whitney asked. That’s not bad.
“No, I was thinking of the name that’s most popular right now, Clan of the Hearth. What if we just dropped the ‘h’?”
“Clan of the Earth?” Nikki asked. Everyone laughed.
“The other h,” Mary responded. “Clan of the Heart.”
“I like that,” Rose whispered. “My heart is beating about a million beats a second. I’m so happy to have my cónyuge filling me and my hearthmates surrounding me.”
Before we were done, I think every girl had at least one hand in her pussy.
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