The Swim Team

Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person living or dead is

purely coincidental.

You need to read chapters 1-5 to get background on the characters and story.

All fictional characters participating in any fictional sexual activity are

18 years of age or older.

Voyeur, mf, ff, mff, masturbation, orgy

Thanks to Vexingvanna for her editing skills.

Life is getting complicated for Barry. Things are happening that make him question the life he's lived for the past 20 years. This chapter delves deep into Barry and Carrie's history, as well as Kelly and Dennis'.

Chapter 6

I woke up in a bit of a state. The room was quiet, my alarm was still silent, and the lamp had not turned on like it usually did to wake me up. Aside from my normal early morning wood, the guilt of groping Linda in her sleep washed over my newly conscious mind but lost to the pleasant memory of the fullness of her breast in my hand, resulting in even more turgidity. I debated rubbing one off but decided against it. I looked at the Echo. It was earlier than my alarm setting, so I still had a while before I usually got up. That rarely happened. I wondered what woke me and decided it had to be everything I had scheduled for the day. I was planning on going to Kelly's today, and I had an appointment with a couple of businesses to try to get their support for the team's season. I knew I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, so I got up to get my cup of coffee. I put on my gym shorts and pushed my door open. The house was still dark, though the early morning light was just beginning to filter in through the blinds. Brenda's door was closed, which didn't surprise me, since she usually didn't get up this early. I strode down the hallway but stopped short when I heard a gasp.

I peeked around the corner into the living room. Linda was still laying on the couch where I left her last night. Brenda had abandoned the recliner, and I could only imagine she was in her room after all, since she wasn't in the living room. I only wondered why Linda was still there for the most brief of seconds, since what she was doing drove any rational thought from my brain.

The nightshirt that had served to separate my hand from her breast last night was now bunched up under her armpits, baring her C-cups topped with large pink areola and thick nipples. Years of fantasizing about them did them no justice. Her areola were at least two inches across in an almost perfect circle, positioned at the peak swell of her breasts. Right in the middle of each ring, her nipples rose a full half-inch, reaching for the sky, and making my mouth water. Her arms pressed her breasts together accentuating her cleavage as she reached between her thighs, her hands stacked over her mound. With the early morning light, shadows prevented me from making out any details of the treasure beneath her hands as she worked her fingers over her pussy. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps punctuated with groans as her hips churned on the couch. Her breasts jiggled with each undulation, making it difficult to decide where to look.

My cock throbbed, fully tenting my shorts and crying for attention. I was about to reach down and take matters in hand when the silence was broken by Fleetwood Mac blaring from the Echo on my nightstand. My heart jumped into my throat as a momentary panic set in. It was 6:30. Time to get up. I quickly ducked further into the shadows of the hallway, lest Linda catch me watching her, and backed into my room, knowing that Brenda would soon be getting up as well. I had just pushed my door closed when I heard Brenda's door open.

I opened the door, hoping it didn't look too contrived, or that Brenda would somehow know I had just closed it. She jumped at my sudden appearance.

"Oh! Daddy! You scared me!"

"Serves you right," I joked, "sneaking around at all hours."

"Really, Daddy," she slapped my shoulder. "You know I have to get ready for school."

"You guys are too loud," Linda's groggy voice drifted down the hall as she appeared from the living room. Shadows from her nipples made highlighted points on her shirt. "It's too early for loud."

"You're up and at 'em kinda early, aren't you?"

"Yeah, nah. Not really. I slept on the couch. Brenda's scream woke me." Nice little lie there, but not one worth mentioning.

"You slept on the couch? Why?"

"Someone didn't wake me before going to bed," she looked pointedly at Brenda, who rolled her eyes.

"Well, you looked too comfortable. Besides, I did try--twice, but you didn't move. I figured you'd get a good sleep there, and if you woke up yourself, you'd take yourself to bed."

"Did you sleep okay? I knew it was a comfortable couch, but I never slept the whole night on it.

"Yeah, I guess. So, who gets the shower first?"

"I guess Daddy does, since he has to work. Then me."

"No," I held up my hand. "You guys go ahead. I'm in no hurry. I'm getting my coffee." I left them in the hallway to sort it out. As I passed the couch, I couldn't resist running my hand over the still warm cushions and I thought I felt a damp spot, but it could have just been my imagination.

As my coffee brewed, I went over the list of things I needed to do. First and foremost was Kelly. Then, on to the businesses John Metherd had given me.

I pulled up to the Mitchell's and sat in the car for a moment while I tried to figure out how to broach the subject with Kelly. My Granny's warnings about meddling in other people's family affairs resounded in my mind. I hadn't had a serious talk with Kelly since right after Carrie's funeral. Oh, sure, we talked. Mundane pleasantries when we'd run into each other, or when we would call to check up on the girls, but no real deep conversations one has with those with whom they are close. It didn't help that I hadn't told her I was coming. I felt awkward just stopping by unannounced. My Granny had choice words about that, too.

I was still sitting there thinking when I got a text message. I flipped out my phone. It was from Kelly.

"Are you gonna sit there all day?"

I looked up at the house. She was looking at me out the kitchen window. I shrugged, pocketed the phone, and got out. She stood there not moving as I approached the house. It was almost as if she'd been expecting me, and I was late. She didn't move away from the window until I was almost to the door, which she opened before I could raise my hand to knock.

"Hi, Barry." She was dressed in a simple blue jumper cinched at the waist with a belt. Her blond hair was pulled back and held with a scrunchy, her red roots painted a wide valley along her part. It was clean, but there was no attempt to style it, and more than a few strands were hanging out. She wore no makeup, and her eyes, usually bright blue, were almost gray. They were also moist and puffy.

"Kelly."

"You spoke to Dennis?"

"I have."

"Come on in." She turned and walked away, leaving the door open. That must be a Mitchell-ism. "Can I get you anything? I don't have any alcohol, but I have sodas or tea. Maybe some coffee?"

"No," I answered standing in the foyer not knowing where to go. "I'm good. But if you want one, don't let me stop you."

"Please," she gestured to the couch. Like Dennis's, there was a blanket wadded up on one side and a pillow. A box of tissues was on the end table near the pillow, and a wastebasket full next to the couch. I walked around the couch to the empty side and sat. Kelly took the Queen Anne chair on the opposite side of the coffee table. "I want to thank you for taking care of Linda during all of this." Her voice was quiet. Subdued. "Please tell her it's not her fault a...and that I love her."

"She knows that, Kelly."

She managed a wan smile. I looked around the room during the awkward lapse in conversation. I'd been here so many times with Carrie and Brenda that it was still familiar despite my long absence. Kelly kept it clean and tidy, and there were some minor changes over the years. Nic-naks I didn't recognize, new pictures around the room, the Queen Anne chair was new--at least new to me.

"Kelly, will you tell me what happened?"

"Dennis didn't tell you?" Her eyes flared with sudden anger. "He didn't mention he was having an affair?"

I held up my hand. "No, no. He did admit that. He was forthcoming about his actions."

"Then I don't know what you want from me. I don't know any more about his affair than you do."

"I'm not talking about his affair. This whole situation really isn't about his affair." She started to argue, but I put up my hand. "I know what you're going to say, but if you think about it, his affair is actually a symptom of the problem. Isn't it?"

She leveled a hard stare at me as her mouth drew up tight. "He has you blaming me now? You believe him! You think this is my fault, too! Don't you?"

"Waitaminute!" Both my hands rose in the universal sign of surrender. "I never said anything of the kind. I'm not blaming anyone, except maybe myself."

Kelly's mouth snapped shut. She blinked. "Yourself? How could this possibly be your fault? You didn't encourage him to cheat..."

"I haven't been here for my oldest friends when they needed me. I was so wrapped up in my grief when Carrie died that I didn't notice your struggle." My throat began to tighten. Even after six years, thinking of that time made me well up. "I know she was your best friend. More like a sister. You were grieving and I wasn't there for you. If that grief has in any way led to the struggle between you and Dennis, then it is my fault."

Kelly sat in silence, back straight and her hands stacked in her lap, as though she were sitting for a job interview, or an inquisition. The silence remained for several heartbeats and I was starting to get more uncomfortable. Was I wrong?

"Barry," she began, then paused. "You were in such a dark place when Carrie died, and you had to take care of Brenda by yourself--and you've done such a wonderful job with her--no one would ever blame you for being focused on healing yourself and your daughter. Besides, I had Dennis. At least I had him back then.

"You're right. Carrie was a sister to me, and it almost killed me when she died. I still miss her every day, and it's been six years. But that isn't why Dennis cheated."

"He said you withdrew from him. That you stopped talking to him or being with him. Those are signs of grieving."

Kelly held my gaze for a long moment before finding something in the corner to look at while her hands twisted the fabric of her skirt. I could tell she had something to say, but she couldn't figure out how to say it.

Then it hit me like a baseball bat. They were signs of grieving, but so was retreating back to church, and she did that long before Carrie died. It was as though a veil had been lifted and I could see things in detail that I never noticed before. Maybe she wasn't grieving Carrie. How could I have missed this?

After I proposed to Carrie, the four of us were riding a natural high. Spring was heating into early summer. The trees and flowers were in full bloom. Life was full of abundant promise. I had graduated, Dennis and Kelly were newlyweds expecting their first child, and Carrie and I were engaged. Big changes for young people. We had big plans for the summer we wanted to do before Kelly got too big to do anything. Of course, partying was curtailed--at least for her. We stopped, too, at least when we were all together. It was the beginning of summer for three twenty-year-olds and one old man of twenty-two. Being college students, we didn't have much money. Carrie came from a distinctly middle-class family, and though she was on scholarship, they didn't have much money for comforts or fun. Carrie didn't work while she was in school, so she could focus on her studies. Same for Kelly. Dennis' family had money, so it was up to him and me to fund whatever the four of us were going to do.

We planned a hike before the summer heat cranked up. It was supposed to be a two-week jaunt along the Appalachian trail through South Carolina. We weren't ambitious enough to attempt the whole thing, but three or four days seemed reasonable. On the way to the mountains, everything changed. Kelly woke up that morning complaining of cramping that she said was like she was getting her period. Her doctor had told her that sometimes, one ovary doesn't get the message about the pregnancy and may produce an egg on cycle, but that was no big deal, so she figured she wouldn't let her discomfort derail our trip. Unfortunately, it was a big deal. We were cruising down the road enjoying the weather, Myself and Carrie in the front seat and Dennis and Kelly in the back. I forgot what we had been talking about, but I heard Kelly make the oddest sound.

"Uhhh...Barry! Dude!" Dennis cried out suddenly. "Pull over, quick! Something's wrong with Kelly!"

Carrie turned around in her seat and gasped. "Oh, My God! Kelly! Kelly? Are you okay? Kelly?"

I couldn't see anything, so I quickly pulled to the side of the road and stopped. When I turned around, Kelly had slumped over and was laying across Dennis. Her skin was ashen and her eyes unfocused. He was patting her cheeks and trying to talk to her. I looked at Carrie as she held Kelly's hand.

"Barry, she's cold. What's happening? Is she dead? Oh, God, Barry!"

I looked back as Dennis began rocking her and noticed the smear of red on the seat and on her thigh. "She's bleeding! Bad."

"What?" Dennis cried out. He looked at the seat and back at his wife. "Oh, no! The baby!" He looked at me and I had never before or since seen such a desperate look of helplessness. His whole world seemed to be crashing in his arms and he didn't know what to do. His eyes filled as he rocked her. "Barry, help me, please!"

Fortunately, we hadn't yet made it to the wilderness and a hospital was not too far down the road. Dennis carried her into the Emergency Room, and after one look at her, and the mess trailing them, the nurses rushed her back. Carrie and I waited in the waiting room for what seemed like hours but was probably no more than fifteen or twenty minutes. We sat in the terribly uncomfortable hard plastic chairs, Carrie nestled under my arm, my cheek resting on her head.

"She really wants this baby."

"I know."

"They already have names picked out." She choked up. "They didn't want me to tell you, but they want to name him Barry if it's a boy." She broke down into shoulder-heaving sobs. All I could do was hold her and fight back the tears threatening to pour out of me.

"Barry," Dennis' trembling voice jerked my head around. We both jumped up as he shuffled into the waiting room. The look on his face told us all we needed to know. I opened my arms and embraced my friend. He sagged into me as Carrie joined us. "She lost the baby," he cried into my shoulder. "What are we gonna do?"

"Is she alright?" Carrie spoke in a comforting whisper.

"Uhm, yeah," he sniffled. "I think so. The docs are still with her. She's got an IV and they're giving her drugs. She lost a lot of blood. They think she might need a transfusion, but she'll pull through."

"Dennis, I'm so sorry. Whatever you and Kelly need..."

"You just let us know," Carrie finished my thought.

"Thanks guys. You're the best. I don't know what I'd do without you."

After Kelly was released, the trip was forgotten, and we went back to my apartment. I had planned on staying in my apartment while I looked for a job. I knew I was limiting my career options by staying in town, but I wanted to be close to Carrie. Kelly and Dennis found an apartment in my same complex, and Dennis found a job in town for the summer. Carrie moved in with me. Her parents weren't exactly happy about it, but they relaxed knowing that we were engaged. I also had the idea of building our home. I had even scoped out the plot of land. I was keeping it secret, planning on making it a surprise when Carrie graduated, and we could be married.

To say Kelly was depressed would be a gross understatement. Melancholy followed her everywhere, entering a room like a fog. We did our best to try to lift her spirits, but nothing seemed to work. Fortunately, the doctors were confident that the miscarriage was not indicative of a serious problem that would prevent her having kids later, but Kelly didn't want to even talk about it.

Dennis would tell me later that he tried to talk her into getting pregnant again, but she broke down into hysterical crying at the thought and wouldn't allow him to bring it up again. It took months before the fog would lift, and now, looking back, I realize the bubbly effervescent girl I knew, and that Dennis married, never did return.

Two years later, the three of them walked across the stage and received their degrees. We had planned that five months after that, Carrie and I would be at an outdoor altar amid the autumn colors of October exchanging vows. Dennis to my left and Kelly to Carrie's right, and shortly after that, we'd have the first of our three children. That was the plan. Of course, it didn't work out exactly like that, but still, life marched on, everything was good and proper--or so it seemed--and I was enjoying my life. Perhaps too much, if I missed what was going on with Kelly, and perhaps that blindness is what led to so many problems that would derail those plans.

"Does this have to do with your miscarriage?" I almost didn't ask the question. I certainly didn't want to. We'd never mentioned the miscarriage in the twelve years between it and Carrie's death, and I certainly never brought it up after. Even Dennis didn't talk about it when I talked to him, so I felt kind of out on a limb.

Kelly recoiled slightly. "What? No. I..." Her face cycled through a myriad of emotions, but instead of getting angry at my intrusion, her shoulders simply sagged, and she looked at the floor.

"Kelly, I know I have been kind of a stranger these past few years, and I've always been wrapped in my own little bubble, but please tell me. What happened?"

She sat still for a long moment. I was about to prompt her again when she sighed. She looked back up at me, a decision made. "You know what we planned to name him, don't you? Carrie told you?"

"Yes. She mentioned it. I would have been honored to be his namesake."

"That's what Dennis was thinking. He really loved you guys, you know that. He never had a close friend before, and he was an only child, so you were very important to him."

"I felt the same way about him."

"No, you didn't. Not really. No. Don't look hurt. I don't mean you didn't like him, or that he wasn't important to you. I know you loved him, but how you felt about him doesn't come close to how he felt about you."

I was confused. Where was she going with this?

"You know he tried to date Carrie in high school, right?"

"She told me. We used to tease him about it."

"I remember. He ran a lot of guys off who tried to date her. Not because he was jealous, but more that he felt if he wasn't good enough for her, then the other guys weren't either. But when he saw you two together, and how much she loved you, he stepped back. It was because she loved you that he let himself like you."

Her words hit me like a sledgehammer. I've always considered Dennis a close friend, but I never knew this. "That's why you were going to name your son after me?"

She started to fidget with her hands. She stopped looking me in the eye. "No."

Now I was confused.

She took a few moments before taking a deep breath. "That's why Dennis agreed to it."

"Agreed?"

"It was my idea." Her voice grew shaky. "I wanted to name him after you."

"Barry," Kelly said after several moments. My gut tensed, like the feeling you get when you know bad news--or a life-altering revelation--is coming. "You know Carrie loved you more than life itself, don't you?"