*Thanks to Alwaysready64 for editing and contributing some snippets of this story, and to HellCat_Sundry for her two cents.
*All sex described in this story will be between consenting adults, 18 or over.
* This is a long story. It's a story first, that happens to have erotic content in it. There is no sex until more than halfway through (approximately chapter 9), so don't bother reading if you want something to get off on.
*This chapter has no sex in it. This story will have elements of "Romance", "First Time", "Fetish", "Group Sex", "Loving Wives", "Mature" and "Interracial Sex" in it. If any of those categories offend you, you were warned.
*Comments and votes are appreciated. For you grammar police out there, yes I edited this story but it, being a long story, is bound to have some uncaught errors here and there. Feel free to contact me with any errors you find but don't leave them in the comments. I will collect any errors and overwrite the story with the corrections when I have time. Please leave your comments about what you like or dislike about the story only, and keep it constructive either way you go.
*I am NOT a professional writer, nor am I retired with a lot of free time to write. This is a free story that I took my time out to share with you. Before complaining about how bad my grammar is or how poor my writing style is, etc., try writing a story yourself and see how it goes. That being said, criticize away, I have a pretty thick skin.
*****
Chapter 5 - The Big Game.
I got home late, and the first thing I did was go to the kitchen in search of food. I didn't hear anyone stirring in the house, so I assumed that they were in bed or out. I grabbed a TV dinner from the freezer since there was nothing readymade and I didn't have time to cook anything.
I became startled when after starting up the microwave I heard a, "Ahem," behind me.
I turned to find my mother, sister and Delilah all standing there waiting for me. Delilah had her head downcast and she was staring at the floor.
"I don't know what's going on, Mike, but we need to address this... now," my mom said.
"OK, fine what do you want from me?"
"How about you start with, what happened on Friday?"
"Nothing, I'm over it. It's done."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean, that I thought about my relationship with Delilah over the weekend and I concluded that she is nothing but a backstabber," I seethed.
"I am NOT a backstabber," Delilah defended.
"Oh really? Tell me then, what does your alternate reality version of the word mean? Because in mine it means metaphorically to betray someone who trusts you implicitly."
"So how did I betray you? I mean we weren't going out, not really..."
"Really? Because, you are right, you did leave our relationship in an ambiguous state in words, but you lead me on in deeds."
"Like?" she challenged.
"Like kissing and cuddling me at home and away from school. Like asking me to do things FOR YOU, that I wouldn't have done if I wasn't your boyfriend. You used me. You don't do that to boyfriends. You don't do that to friends. Annnd, you don't do that to family. And I was all those things, wasn't I?"
"Well I'm sorry I gave you the wrong impression."
"Wrong impression? About what? So, we weren't like family or good friends?" I asked, looking at her and she had no response. "No, you're not sorry. You don't even think you did anything wrong! If you didn't want me to be your boyfriend, you could have just said so. It was YOUR idea! You're the one that pushed the boundaries, not me. You went out with someone you knew I despised, then fucked him and his buddies behind my back. Then became his girlfriend and all the while deceiving me and playing me for a fool. Then even after your boyfriend humiliates me and treats YOU like shit bragging to me how he and his friends gangbanged you," I waited for her response. "None of that bothered you though did it? You never loved me, you don't even love yourself, so, how could you? Let me ask you something, is this how YOU want your 'friends' to treat you? Like you're a two-bit whore? The funny thing is, the only whore I know is YOUR mom and she would never have pulled that shit on me; she actually likes me."
"How dare you! You pussy!"
"How dare I? Fuck you! You think I'm some sort of pussy because I was good to you? You think because I ran away crying, I was weak?"
"You did look like a baby," she laughed.
My sister looked like she was going to lunge after her, but I held up my hand to signal she stop.
"I was crying because I actually felt something for you! And I ran away because if I didn't, I would have beat you right in front of your boyfriend. Then after you lay there with a fucked-up face, all bloodied, pulpy, blacked eyed and possibly missing teeth, I would have killed Johnny. Yeah, I would have went to jail and I would have regretted it today but luckily, I had enough sense to get the fuck out of there... And lucky you. But don't worry, you didn't want to be friends with me? Done. We're not friends. As far as I'm concerned, you're dead to me!"
My mom looked flabbergasted as I barged past them to go to my room, leaving my TV dinner in my wake. I heard mom arguing with Delilah and then a knocking at my door.
"Come in."
Stephanie stepped in my room holding my TV dinner and a fork. I was laying against my headboard with a book in my hand, pretending to be busy. She walked over to my desk and set my food down at a spot she cleared off, then walked over to me without saying a word, leaned over and kissed me on the lips. It was a chaste kiss to be sure, but she never kissed me on the lips.
"Best brother ever," was all I heard as she walked out the door closing it after her. I shook my head thinking I'd have to have a talk with her soon.
For the next couple of months, I trained with the football team every other day and had to go to every game. This didn't leave much time for martial arts, so I went when I could. Delilah moved back in with her mother Cindy and although she still went to the same school, I stopped talking to her and avoided having anything to do with her. My anger faded enough where I could forgive her, but she seemed to be taking a self-destructive path and I didn't know how to help her without her dragging me down with her.
*
I finally got my telemarketing software done and sold the licensing for it to my first client. I bought parts for twenty computers and assembled them and networked them together with a server. Installed Windows NT along with my software, and after demoing it to all the employees, I demonstrated how they would only be hitting prospects that had an interest in their product. I won't bore you with too many technical details. But for the day my software was groundbreaking, essentially it would cut down the amount of cold calls by 90% and increase their productivity by 1000%. The client loved it and I got paid. I already had five other telemarketing firms interested in my software and I would be demoing it to them in a couple of months.
My schedule was full all the way up until football season ended in early December. I had money in the bank but no time to spend it. With football over with I finally decided to spend a little money on Christmas presents. So, I bought my mom a pre-owned Honda Civic for an early Christmas present, mainly because she really needed it since her Taurus kept breaking down on her. To her it was the newest car she ever owned and she cried and almost wouldn't accept it. I took her old beat up Ford Taurus and told her I didn't need a new car she was the one whom had a daily commute and in the long run it would save us hundreds of dollars a year in gas and maintenance costs. It was an investment I said, so she finally accepted it. As a 'reward' she imitated Stephanie and grabbed my face kissing me all over as if I was Mickey Mouse.
My popularity at school increased every day, I suppose having the whole cheerleading squad behind you does that for you. Since I had plenty of free periods, I decided to take a basic car repair class. I became good friends with a lot of gearheads who would take the class just to use the shop. They convinced me to dump my Taurus and get a 'real' car. I always loved the classic Mustangs so I bought a beat up '67 off of a guy for a grand. The motor was shot, it was in dire need of a paint job and the interior was a mess but the frame was straight and there were only a few dings here and there.
I convinced my new buddies Dan and Ted to work on my car. They were in good with the shop teacher and they convinced him to allow them to work on my car as the semester's project. The teacher didn't give a shit as long as we cleaned up after ourselves. I even offered to give them my Taurus as payment for their labor when they finished. It wasn't a great car but they could easily sell it for four thousand if they put some work into it. This lit a fire in them, it was their first paying gig and they were excited. Over the course of the semester I spent five thousand dollars restoring the mustang.
Half of the cheerleaders wanted me to ask them out and a few of them asked me out. But I turned each one of them down and they knew why, I had it bad for Simone.
Candy was the worst offender. She had a reputation as being easy and she straight up told me exactly what she'd do to me if I was her boyfriend. It took a lot of will power to reject her; I told her that I couldn't because of my feelings for Simone and it wouldn't be fair to her if I only went in to the relationship for the sex. She said she wouldn't mind being used by me, but she thought it was sweet that there was a romantic left. After that day, I became good friends with Candy. I treated her with respect and not as a sexual object, and at first, she didn't know what to do with it but once she got used to being respected, she started wanting it in all her relationships.
I started swapping services with Candy. I would tutor her in subjects she struggled in and she helped me be more attractive to women. She told me what I should wear, what worked and what didn't. She took me to the mall and made me get a whole new wardrobe. She had me cut and style my hair, and taught me how to properly groom myself. She got me to stop biting my nails and got me to start clipping them.
She taught me how to pick-up on social cues, how women flirted and what signs to look for. She gave me advice on what to say when trying to pick up a woman. She showed me how to dance and she even taught me how to kiss properly. I really sucked at kissing at first, according to her, and we had to try it over and over until she was satisfied.
In my opinion, I think I got the better of the service swap. I learned more from Candy, that I would use the rest of my life, than I learned from any of my teachers at school. What she taught me was valuable and would serve me for the rest of my life.
For my part, I saw that Candy did struggle with her grades but she was far more intelligent than she led on. I gave her some reading tests and saw her struggling. She was embarrassed and reverted back to her bimbo persona to cover up her shame. I told her that she didn't have to be embarrassed and to give me some credit, I knew she wasn't a bimbo. I told her that like a doctor, anything we did would be held in the strictest of confidence. I suspected that she might have something that was physically off that made her struggle with reading.
"I want you to take this test," I said, "I have a feeling you might be dyslexic."
