This is a continuation of the story I started entitled "The Chubby Chick" and "So We Have a Little Stalker" This chapter is a lot longer and continues to set up Linea's sexual awakening while the MC continues his relationship with Amanda. All persons in this story are over 18. This may be a little story heavy for most readers, and I apologize in advance. ***Should I move it to the "Series" section?***
Going Home
"Y-yes, I think so." Linea responded hesitantly; an overflowing blue gym bag gripped tightly to her chest.
"Cool, let's go." I smiled and walked off, not bothering to make sure she was following.
I stepped into the cold night air, heading to my beat up old '87 Chevy Cavalier Wagon. It used to be blue, but I'd stripped it down and primed it. Also removed the quarter panels and slapped on larger rims and tires. I used to bang out chicks in the back seat, but that was now full of parts. Everyone thought I was crazy, but my dad insisted that every kid should have a project car. And this was mine. So, I just rolled with it and decided to turn it into an absolute abomination. When it was done, however, it would be a beast.
Judging by the look on Linea's face, it already was. "It's a work in progress. Toss your stuff..." I looked in the back where greasy car parts dominated the back seat and cargo area. "Ok, maybe just hold it in your lap."
She turned her eyes away from the mess and giggled lightly, "Yeah, oh."
When she opened the door, she was a little overwhelmed by the seat with its five-point harness. For what it's worth, Amanda didn't like it either. She awkwardly allowed me to strap her in before I hopped in the driver's seat and pulled away.
After a few long awkward moments she asked, "So, what are your parents going to... oh... I mean... uh..."
She must have seen the pained look that eked past my emotional walls before I clamped down on that shit. I decided to let a little out for just a moment, sharing what must have been a sad smile. She cut in before I could wave her down, "I'm so sorry. I forgot..."
"It's good. I miss her, but I'm over it. Mostly." My mother died of cancer when I was 15, I missed about half a year of school spent in heavy therapy. Incidentally, I won't be graduating with my class.
"I'm still sorry." she added meekly.
"To answer the question, my dad doesn't care really, he said when I turned 18, I was an adult and to not disappoint him. Told me to finish school, then we'd figure it out. He works overseas most of the time, we talked last week, and he was doing something in Germany."
"What's he do?" she asked, relieved that I moved past her faux pas so easily.
"Uh, I really don't know for sure. Mom said he was an international businessman, but I never believed that, I always imagined he was an international spy or assassin. Something cool like that, but she was probably right." I laughed out the window as we drove through the snowy roads.
"Boys!" She giggled again; it was good to see her begin to relax.
When we pulled into my drive she went awkwardly quiet once again. After mom passed, we moved out of our old house and bought a decent sized house outside of city limits that sat on a couple acres of land. The simple layout had two bedrooms and baths split by the living/dining/kitchen area in the middle. Dad lived on one side; I lived on the other. Dad's side was obviously bigger, though he was never really around. The only real rule was don't touch his shit and keep the house clean.
We climbed out of my monstrosity of a car and entered the house through the living room. A large L-shaped couch dominated the space facing a large (for the time) 27" TV flanked by a pair of large speakers. Because that's what you had in the 90's.
I pointed at the couch, "This is you, that door there is dad's room, no one goes in there. No one."
"Better than the locker room" She muttered staring at the couch.
I reached under the front and pulled hard; one side of the couch was a hide-away that folded out into a full-sized mattress. "Way better. I'll get you some pillows and a blanket. Follow me."
I proceeded to give her a brief tour of the house, stopping in the laundry room to dump the contents of her stinky gym bag into the washing machine. Afterwards I showed her the bathroom with its large jacuzzi style tub and separate glass shower. She eyed both dubiously.
"You want a bath? I'll scrounge up a towel and rag" I laughed.
"YES!" She exclaimed while I started the water running and went to get her the aforementioned items. I came back to the door closed and smiled, placing the towels and a clean T-shirt outside the door.
"I'm going to bed, see you in the morning."
I walked off and saw a line of light stretch down the hall behind me, then it was gone again. Climbing in bed I picked up the phone to call Amanda. She picked up almost immediately, "What took you so long!?"
I peeked at the clock; it was almost 9:30pm, and I was usually home before 9. "Well, you see..." I of course proceeded to detail out what had happened after she left, as well as confirming the butt plug theory. Surprisingly, she didn't sound upset at all.
"I'm a little jealous." she finally said.
"Oh?"
"She gets to sleep with you, and I don't!"
I laughed, "She's not in the bed with me, damn!"
"Wish I was." she teased.
"Nothing's stopping you from coming over tonight. Though I'll probably be passed out."
"Aww, you suck!"
"Ah, yes. So, you coming over tonight, or tomorrow?"
"It's tempting, but I'm already in bed. See you tomorrow, lover."
It had been a long day, and kind of emotional for all the wrong reasons so I quickly passed out.
Linea's perspective:
Linea leaned back in the steaming hot water, relaxing the most she had in weeks. Her emotions were still conflicted though. She was taught that it was a sin to spend the night in another man's house that wasn't one of her family. To make things worse, she was now completely naked in his bathtub, absolutely not considering pressing the button to turn on the jacuzzi jets. A momentary pang of fear crossed her mind, then she remembered where she was.
That pervert would sit and watch
. A small smile formed on her face as she reached over and pressed the button, marveling how it felt across her body as the jets kicked in. She caught a slight gasp in her throat when the first stream of bubbles caressed her tiny brown nipples.
"That's nice. Ok, I'll stay." She sighed in satisfaction. As she was casually enjoying the sensation, she noticed another set of jets down by her legs. She considered it for only a moment before quickly adjusting so the jet stream was directed between her legs.
"Oh wow. I'm never leaving!" She moaned softly, letting the gentle vibration against her pussy relax her. Before she knew it, she was gently rubbing her breasts. There was a moment where a small bit of panic rose in her chest, worried he would walk in. But her mind kept going back to her earlier revelation, in all likelihood he would just watch, and considering how much she'd spied on him and Amanda, maybe she owed him a little peek. "Don't want to be a hypocrite like my mother."
That dark train of thought robbed her of any arousal. Even the lovely feeling jets couldn't bring her back, and as the water began to cool, she decided to get out before she pruned. As she was drying off, she puzzled at the oversized white T-shirt he added to the stack of towels. Then looking at her dirty clothes on the floor she scowled in frustration at how infuriatingly thoughtful he could be, yet such a pervert.
T-shirt on, towel wrapped around her head, she tentatively opened the door looking down the dark hall towards his room. Then she turned towards the living room, finding her way to the washroom to transfer what few bits of clothing she currently owned to the dryer, before crawling into the warm fold out bed in the living room and drifted off to sleep.
Consciousness returned first to the smell of eggs and bacon cooking from the next room over. She stretched with a quiver, one hand resting between her bare pussy, a contented smile on her lips that was momentarily replaced by panicked horror. Her eyes shot open quickly, relieved to see that she was still under the covers of her blanket. She laid there for a bit, considering how to get dressed without exposing herself to him, not wanting to let on that she was awake. The sound of plates and cutlery being loaded with food, followed by glasses being filled.
She sensed him come into the living room and place a plate of the delicious smelling food on the end stand next to her. Her deception was shattered when he sat down on the opposite seat, turned on the TV, flipping it to Saturday morning cartoons.
"You watch cartoons!?" she looked at the TV as a series of yellow and blue clad characters fought across the screen, "Superheroes?"
He just smiled, genuinely enjoying his breakfast and his show, "Yeah."
She watched him for a moment before her gaze drew his attention, "You should eat that while it's still hot."
What is going on!?
She was confused by his behavior. Until recently she had viewed him as the epitome of everything she was taught to be bad. Sinful. Perverted, cocky, God-less. A selfish womanizer. But as she considered his behavior over the last couple of weeks, she realized he wasn't all he seemed to be. She witnessed a moment of vulnerability in the car, and genuine compassion in the locker room. He seemed to be genuinely over the moon for Amanda, despite the chubby girl not being quite what he was into in years past. Not that she wasn't attractive in her own way, just not what had become known as
his
type. Over the last twelve or so hours he had thoroughly flipped that image on its head.
"You cook?"
She grabbed up the plate and took a bite. She thought it would just be passable, but multiple layers of flavor burst across her tongue as she chewed. A subtle sigh of satisfaction escaped her mouth.
