Second Opinion

It was the last big party of the summer, and with few exceptions, all the guests agreed that it was the best they'd had in four years at Boulder Ridge High School. Technically, their days at Boulder Ridge had ended some six weeks before with graduation, but the numerous parties that had begun with prom night had delayed their final parting until tonight. Come Monday morning, the first of them would spread out across the country to the various colleges they would be attending. Nevertheless, for tonight at least, Monday seemed years away.

"Fantastic party," Jim Higgens said to Tom Richardson as he patted the former all-county halfback on the shoulder, "your parents have really outdone themselves this time."

"Yeah, I guess they have," the dark-skinned eighteen-year-old smiled as he acknowledged his friend's compliment. "But that's my Mom and Dad, they worked hard to get where they are and they don't like to do anything second- rate."

Throughout Tom's last two years at Boulder Ridge, the Richardson's large two-story colonial had become the gathering place for him and his classmates. Situated at the end of town, the home of Doctor Isaac and Mrs. Susan Richardson had been designed to accommodate their only child's enjoyment in every way possible. Including a large entertainment center in the basement, an outdoor pool and a basketball court. It was a rare weekend that one or more of his friends didn't find a way to stay over as houseguests.

Tom left Jim behind and continued his search for his best friend. More times than not, Sean O'Conner was the preferred weekend houseguest and it had been that way since the two unlikely friends had first met back in junior high school. Total opposites at first glance, the two had found a common interest in science fiction when they were both looking for the same book in the school library. From there a friendship had grown until the things they had in common more than outweighed what was still different.

His search was finally rewarded when he found Sean where he suspected he might be, sitting at the kitchen table with his mother. With the death of both his parents when he was ten, the Irish teen had been raised by his grandparents. Susan Richardson had practically adopted the boy the day Tom had first brought him home.

"Forty-two people outside having a good time, half of them female, and I find you here," Tom said as he admonished his friend.

"I'm having a good time here," Sean replied with a forced smile. "I always enjoy talking to your Mom."

The look on Tom's face told him that wasn't the kind of good time he was talking about.

"Tom's right, Sean," Susan said as she took in the look on her son's face. "You should go back to the party."

"I wouldn't want to leave you all alone," Sean said, knowing that Doctor Richardson was out of town for the weekend.

"I'm perfectly fine," she laughed, "besides, my sister is coming over. In fact she should have been here by now and..."

As if to underscore her assurance, the outer door that led to the side stairs opened and in walked Joan Tomlinson. All eyes turned in her direction and each saw her differently. To Susan, she was the sister she had shared her life with, ever since they had been born, ten minutes apart, some thirty-eight years ago. For Tom, she was the aunt that appeared irregularly in his life, spending most of her time crisscrossing the country on business, leaving behind three failed marriages in the process.

Sean had only met her a few times, but each time he was taken by how similar and different Joan was from Susan. They had been born identical twins but life choices and personal tastes had given each an identity of her own. It was as if the same face had been put on two different bodies. Susan was the heavier of the two, outweighing her younger sister by almost twenty pounds. She also had longer hair, reaching down to her shoulders while Joan kept her black locks cropped tightly against her scalp.

"Speak of the devil," Susan said as Joan closed the door behind her.

"Ah sis, you always say the nicest things," Joan smiled, not sure if Susan was speaking figuratively or literally. There had been many times over the years it had been one or the other.

'Hi Aunt Joan," Tom said as he moved forward to embrace his aunt.

"I didn't think it was possible," Joan said as she wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek. "You get more handsome every time I come to visit. Obviously you get your looks from our side of the family."

"And you remember, Sean, don't you?" Susan said, ignoring the slight to her husband, with whom Joan had never gotten along with. It was no coincidence that her visits usually coincided with his absences.

"Oh yes, the writer," Joan said, looking over the slightly taller boy as she released her hold on her nephew. "How is that coming along?"

"It's coming okay, Mrs. Tomlinson " Sean replied. "It's nice to see you again."

"Joan, please," she replied, "a young man as grown up as you should be calling me Joan."

Sean just smiled, not commenting that he felt funny calling her by her first name.

"Sean is too modest," Susan interjected, coming to his rescue. "It's more than coming okay. He's had two stories published in anthology magazines this year and he's been awarded a scholarship to State based on his writings."

"It's only a partial scholarship," Sean corrected.

"Still, I'm impressed." Joan said unexpectedly. "You know, I have a friend who's an editor at Wilson Publishing. If you're really as good as Susan says, I'd be happy to ask her to look at your work."

"I don't know," Sean said hesitantly.

"It's just something for you to consider," Joan said.

"And it's something to be considered tomorrow or the day after," Susan pointed out. "Right now these two have a party to get back to."

"Well never let it be said that I stood in the way of a party," Joan laughed. "In fact, maybe I should... "

A look from her older sister put an instant end to any thought of joining the party. Instead she told them to have a good time and she'd talk to them tomorrow.

-=-=-=-=

Tom led Sean out onto the porch where a few of his guests had gathered. It only took a moment for him to realize that was the last place Sean needed to be right now.

Sitting in one of the wicker chairs, surrounded by a half dozen admirers, was a rather pretty redhead. Her name was Sandra Kennedy and up until last month, she had been Sean's girlfriend. Tom had seen her arrive earlier in the night but hadn't run into her since. Now he took the time to take a good look.

Sandra had never been exactly bashful about showing off her body, but even for her the outfit she wore seemed excessive. If there was still such a thing as a proper hem line, her dress was at least an inch above it and at the other end it was cut just deep enough to show more cleavage then it should.

He realized of course that he was looking at her though the eyes of his friend who she had hurt. That it wasn't too long ago that he loved to look at her when she showed off.

"Come on, let's head over to the basketball court and find you someone to dance with," Tom said, ignoring Sandra and the guys around her.

Not saying a word, Sean took his friend's suggestion.

Despite his own often seen self-depreciation, Sean had no problem finding a dance partner. In fact, more than a few female classmates had been quite happy to hear that he and Sandra had broken up. Their only regret was that none of them had been able, as of yet, to take her place.

At five foot six and a hundred and thirty-eight pounds, Sean O'Conner had short brown hair and boyish looks that made him almost irresistible. He was smart, articulate, and just plain fun to be with. Once you got him to open up that is.

That was something that not even Tom had been able to do in the last few weeks. Not the most sensitive guy in the world, even he had finally realized that his comment about Sandra's dumping him, that at least he'd gotten to fuck her first, could've been better put.

It actually was, Sean had concluded, the fact that he had fucked her, which had led to their breakup. All told, they had done the deed a total of four times over the last two months of their relationship. It was understandable, they both realized, that the first, and maybe even the second time would be underwhelming. Oh it had been fun enough, but then so again was masturbation. It was only when times three and four failed to produce any improvement that Sandra had announced that they needed to talk.

The talk had been simple enough. She liked him, she really did, and he was totally the kind of guy that she'd want as a friend. However, it was becoming obvious that was all they were meant to be. The chemistry just wasn't there for anything more.

That the problem might be hers never occurred to Sandra. The fact that she was the kind of girl who just laid there and opened her legs was a big part of why the sex had been unspectacular. Moreover, she wasn't about to even consider the idea of oral sex, either giving or receiving. That was, she believed, the sort of thing only trashy girls did. If she ever got the nerve to survey her classmates about the subject, she'd have been horrified to discover that just about all of her friends classified as just that kind of trash.

Still, Sean had been too much of a gentleman to put the blame on Sandra, or even discuss what had happened with his best friend, other than to acknowledge the fact that yes, they had finally done it. So, sure that something was wrong with him, the eighteen-year-old was reluctant to get too close to anyone else right now, no matter how willing some of the young ladies seemed.

By the time the party was over, Sean had danced with a half-dozen girls, each doing their best to try to interest him. Shirley Rourke had gone so far as to practically grope him as their bodies pressed together during a slow dance. His body had reacted to the stimulation quickly enough, but unfortunately for her while the flesh was certainly willing enough, the spirit was indeed lacking.

Once the party ended and most of the clean up had been accomplished, the guests made their goodbyes and left one by one, with some leaving two by two. Sean hadn't seen Sandra leave so he had no idea which category she had been in. His own plans called for him to spend the night as he was going to help Tom load up his things for the trip to the upstate college he was going off to come Monday. Sean's scholarship had been for a local school and that suited him just fine. He'd be able to study what he wanted and still help out his grandparents.

"Hey Sean," Tom called out when he spotted his friend tossing the last plastic bag of party garbage into the trashcan.

"It was a great party, Tom," he said as the larger teen caught up to him. "Everyone had a great time."

"Even you?" Tom asked, a look of disbelief on his face.

"I had a good time, so stop worrying about it," Sean assured him, his voice lacking the conviction he wished it did.

"All right, suite yourself," Tom said, deciding that he was beating a dead horse to say the least. "Listen, we have a little problem."

"What's the matter?" Sean said with some urgency, thinking that perhaps someone had gotten sick or even hurt. It had happened at other parties they'd been to over the summer.

"No, nothing like that," Tom answered just as quickly, realizing what Sean was thinking. "It's just that we have a little problem with the sleeping arrangements."

"Oh?"

"Whitney changed her mind and is going to stay over for the weekend," Tom said.

Whitney Summers had been Tom's girlfriend since freshman year and, as Tom had once confided in him, his bed partner every chance they got for the last two. Eventually it became apparent to their parents as well. Rather than try to forbid it, and having as little success as they knew their own parents had had with them, they settled instead with making sure both were acting responsibly and that no accidents happened.

Neither Tom or Whitney had flaunted it in their parent's faces by sleeping together under their own roof, at least not when anyone else had been home. This would be the first time. Still, they were both now of legal age and since it was no secret that they were going to be sharing a dorm room at school, it seemed a little silly to say they couldn't sleep in Tom's room now.

The problem was immediately apparent to Sean. While there were two beds in Tom's room, and it was obvious that only one of them was going to be occupied, the last thing Tom and Whitney wanted was him in the other.

"I got it," Sean assured his pal, "I'll just sleep in the guest room."

"That's the other problem," Tom went on. "Even though Mom made sure that there wasn't any kind of booze at the party, that rule didn't apply to her and Aunt Joan. I think they had more than a few while they were hanging out in the kitchen. There's no way that Mom is going to let her sister drive home in that condition."

"And she shouldn't," Sean replied, thinking that let out the guest room. "So should I head home and come back in the morning?"

"Well, you could do that," Tom offered, reluctance in his voice, "or if you don't mind, there's always the couch down in the basement playroom."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that," Sean said. "The couch would be fine."

"Are you sure?" Tom asked, thinking that if the situation were reversed, he might have been a little put off by being asked to sleep on a couch while his buddy curled up in a nice soft bed with a naked girl to keep him company.

"Hey, it's not like it would be the first time I'd fallen asleep on it," Sean smiled as he remembered a few all-night movie marathons that they hadn't made it to the end of. "The couch will be fine."

-=-=-=-=

It took a few minutes for Tom to break out a couple of sheets and a pillow from the basement closet for Sean to use while he went upstairs and got his gym bag from where he had left it. Mrs. Richardson and her sister must've already turned in, he thought, as he didn't see them as he walked through the house. Reaching Tom's room, Sean thought it prudent to knock first and announce himself, not knowing if Whitney would still be dressed or if she might have changed into nightclothes, or even nothing, to surprise Tom when he came up.

"Come on in, Sean," he heard Whitney say from the other side of the door, "I'm decent." She paused a second and then added with a laugh, "or at least dressed."

Sean grinned at the old joke as he opened the door and stepped inside. In a way, it would've been easier if she had been naked, at least he didn't think she would've looked as erotic as she did. Sitting across the bed, Whitney was wrapped in a white terrycloth robe that reached down to just above her knees. It was obvious that the robe was all she was wearing and Sean couldn't help but steal a glance at the long, dark legs that stretched out from beneath it, or the plentiful cleavage that was displayed at its folds. His own problems in no way prevented him from being aware that Whitney Summers was one hot looking girl.

"I really feel a little bad about putting you out of a comfortable bed," Whitney said with a small sigh as she swung her legs over the side of the bed, in doing so given an even better view of her breasts.

In that moment, the memory of those bountiful mounds bursting free of a bikini top earlier in the summer suddenly filled Sean's mind. He had been sitting by the pool, not three feet from Whitney, when a small clasp that had certainly been strained to the breaking point had snapped in two. The two of them had laughed it off, even as she grabbed what was left of the top and barely covered her nipples with it. The image that had been left behind was still as clear as a photograph.

"It's fine, don't worry about it," he said as he turned away and grabbed his bag off the floor.

"Sean," she said, causing him to turn around and look at her again. "I know I've said this before but I really feel that I have to say it again. Sandra is a worthless bitch and I think she had a lot of fucking nerve showing up at the party, even though I know the blanket invitation included her as well. You can do a lot better. In fact, if I didn't have Tom, I'd probably want to go out with you."

Sean just smiled and didn't say a word, other than to pause a moment at the door and wish Whitney goodnight. He'd heard it before, but didn't they realize that any girl he went out with was only going to be disappointed with him.

He passed Tom on the stairs and also wished him goodnight and said that he'd see them at breakfast. Not too early, Tom reminded him as the plan was for everyone to sleep in. After all, it was already almost two in the morning.

Back in the basement, Sean made himself as comfortable as he could on the couch and soon began to doze off. He'd just begun to close his eyes when he thought he'd heard a sound on the stairs. Sitting up, he looked into the darkness at the narrow band of light beaming down from the top of the stairs. After a few seconds, he decided he was jumping at shadows. Stretching out on the couch, he tried to find the drowsiness he'd just shaken off.

Sleep now wouldn't come and he was quite embarrassed as he admitted to himself the reason why. All he could think about was that, just two floors above him, Whitney had gotten rid of that bathrobe and was now curled up naked next to Tom. Probably doing a lot more than just curling up next to him, he also admitted. From the gym classes they'd taken together, Sean couldn't help but notice that his friend packed an impressive bulge in his shorts. One that he wasn't bashful in mentioning that Whitney didn't have any hesitation in taking in any part of her body. Sean had no doubt that at the very least, she was going down on him right about now.

Despite his embarrassment at thinking about his best friend and his girl in that way, Sean's body had reacted to the unbidden images in his head and he found himself sporting a first class hard-on. One that was not going to let him sleep without doing anything about it.

Finally giving in to desire, Sean pulled down his shorts and closed his hand around his cock. Slowly he began to pump it as he tried to replace the image of Whitney with someone else. Shirley Rourke came to mind and the way her breasts had pressed against his chest and her hand had 'accidentally' brushed against his erection while they danced.

But try as he might, Shirley kept fading away to replaced again by Whitney. Finally, thinking that there were worse images he could be jerking off to, Sean gave in to temptation and allowed the thoughts of her dark naked flesh take hold.

He was getting close to a climax when his eyes popped open. Again he had thought he'd head a sound on the stairs. Almost in a panic, he tossed his head back to look in that direction, only to again find only shadows.

"This isn't going to work," Sean admitted to himself, realizing at the same time that the chances of someone actually coming down those stairs this time of the night were astronomical.

Adjusting his underwear, he got off the couch and headed for the small closet sized bathroom at the end of the playroom. If nothing else, maybe he could piss away his hard-on.

The bulb in the small toilet was out so Sean left the door open to let the light of the small lamp he'd turned on filter into the room. It was a small wattage but enough to make sure he hit the center of the bowl and not the seat. Once he started, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. Evidently he had to go more than he realized.

"That does seem a waste of a perfectly good hard-on," said a woman's voice from just behind him.

-=-=-=-=

Sean thought his heart was about to stop at the thought that Mrs. Richardson might have seen him playing with himself. What the woman had actually said had yet to register on him. His head jerked around and he discovered that despite what he thought was his recognition of her voice, it hadn't been Susan Richardson standing behind him. It had been her sister, Joan.