When this story was in the idea stage, I sought help in selecting the correct category, getting that help from SimonDoom and Handley_Page, as well as additional encouragement from electricblue66, Zeb_Carter, and Winter_Fare.
For that, I hereby thank them all.
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When Danielle Campbell was younger, the question on the minds of those who knew her was never whether she would marry Jacob Elliott, but when. They -- or more accurately, we (that's right, I'm Jacob) -- had, as the saying goes, taken a shine to each other in fifth grade, and had been an official couple since eighth; because of this, it was only natural that we went to the same big-name state university after graduating from high school. It isn't difficult to know why I fell for her as I did -- by the time we went off to college, she had made it to five-six and one-twenty, with chestnut hair to her shoulder blades, and with brown eyes I loved to lose myself in. (By comparison, I'm five-ten and one-seventy-five. My hair is a lighter brown than hers, my eyes are blue, and for what it may be worth, I'm five months her senior -- my birthday is in October; hers, in March.) Years would pass before I would correctly ascertain the melange of heritage that gave her these particular looks. this heritage was mostly Italian (their family name had originally been Campobello, but had been Anglicized to Campbell when their ancestor came through Ellis Island in 1907) plus a good bit of Greek, with hints and elements of Cherokee and Potawatomi -- but in the main, though exact nationalities might be fun to discern, they didn't really matter. Danielle and I belonged to each other the minute she first fixed those eyes on me.
In light of how we continued to fall for each other, it was equally natural that, after the end of our junior year of university and with both of us then being twenty-one, I proposed and she accepted. Our families were quite happy, but Mr and Mrs Campbell added a wrinkle to things: they would be willing to offer us financial support during the first year of our marriage should we need help meeting our newlywed expenses or to get out of the inevitable difficulties young couples may have, as well as the promise of a one-time cash gift of ten thousand dollars for our wedding. This offer, however, would only hold if they could be certain we had abstained from sex until we were married. If they found out we had not abstained, we would either be on our own, or have to ask from my parents or friends if things went wrong or if we found ourselves struggling.
Please understand that Mr and Mrs Campbell aren't the type to disown or to practice "tough love"; they simply were trusting us to be adults and to show the accompanying restraint. Of course, we were failing spectacularly in that department, having taken each other's virginities shortly after Danielle's twentieth birthday, but as long as her parents didn't know, we figured we would be all right. We were scrupulous about condom usage, as we had to be in order to avoid pregnancy and thus keep our secret; but so far, and due in no small part to this precaution, our little subterfuge was working.
One year into our engagement, we graduated from university, and set a wedding date for fourteen months beyond our graduation. Additionally, we moved back -- I to a large city, and Danielle to that city's nearby suburb where we'd grown up. (The name of the city isn't important; I'll only say that it lies east of the Rockies and west of the Susquehanna.) In the interest of economizing, I had a studio apartment on the edge of that city, whereas Danielle moved in with her parents for the time being. This meant that, if we were to get together the way we had been doing, we had to meet at my apartment, and to continue in this clandestine fashion -- but we made the most of all our getting together, whenever our schedules permitted.
One Friday evening the April after we graduated -- that is to say, eleven months past that graduation, and three months before we were to be married -- a unique opportunity came our way, and through none other than Mr and Mrs Campbell. They were going out of town for the weekend to celebrate their anniversary; in response, Danielle texted me and invited me to come over. I needed no more telling or incentive; within ten minutes of my arrival, we were going right at it. For an additional thrill, this was the first time we'd felt bold enough, or had acted brazenly enough, to do this at her house. While we stood no risk of her parents catching us, we still enjoyed what we took to be a feeling of sneaking around, and would continue to enjoy it -- until shortly after midnight, the clock having rolled over to Saturday. At that moment, we were lying in each other's arms, fully spent after two sessions and feeling no worries -- when we heard a voice from the front hallway. "Anyone home?"
Danielle and I exchanged panicked looks and a unison "Oh shit!" as we recognized the voice -- it belonged to Hannah, Danielle's younger sister by two years. (For those of you disinclined to do the math right now, she was twenty-one at the time, to Danielle's and my twenty-three; apropos of nothing, she was also two inches shorter and fifteen pounds heavier.) She had been out with friends for the evening, which had led Danielle to invite me over; in our haze of passions, however, we had completely failed to account for Hannah's being gone, and subsequently for her need to come home.
"Better get dressed and go," Danielle said after a few seconds, kissing me hard. "I'll text you to let you know when it's safe again."
"I'm as close as my phone," I said, kissing her right back as we dressed and exchanged "I love you"s, and I saw myself out. Though I smiled, I was nervous for what kind of trouble Hannah could make for us; she'd seen my car in the driveway, and I would likely pass her on my way out. Indeed, she was sitting on the living room couch and watching a movie; she caught sight of me, and with a feigned sweet innocence, smiled and said, "Oh hi, Jake, don't be such a stranger." I gave a perfunctory nod and a muted "hmph" as I left; on my way back home. For a day or so thereafter, my preoccupying thought was whether Hannah might tell Mr and Mrs Campbell that she had caught me sneaking over; she had, after all, been present when Danielle and I had announced our engagement, and when the girls' parents had set forth their wish that we abstain.
Danielle's coming by my place the next evening only took those thoughts from my mind for a short time; when I told her my concern about Hannah's suspecting anything or possibly having heard us, she smiled, kissed me, and invited me to put my worries aside. In her company and her arms, I was easily able to do this; as I heard nothing about it from Mr and Mrs Campbell when they got back on Sunday night, I figured Hannah had said nothing to them, and that all was consequently well. The next week went by, with Danielle and I going about our jobs. Date nights had to be saved up for, after all; even so, we talked and texted throughout the better parts of most days, to help take the edge off being apart. While we waited, however, our weekdays were mostly of the single piece of working and going home. It continued this way, uneventfully -- until the Thursday evening immediately following the incident.
When I pulled up to my complex's lot that evening, I noticed a small car with a strong resemblance to one I would have recognized. "Nah, can't be," I thought as I got out and headed to my door; once there, however, I realized I had been right.
"Hannah?" And she it was, standing in front of my door.
"Hi, Jake!" she said, smiling sweetly and brightly, before turning more serious. "Listen, I got something on my mind... I need to get it off."
"I'm here if you need to talk... we can talk out here if you like, or" -- against my better judgment, as fate would have it -- "you could come in?"
"Yeah, that'll work." With that, I showed her in; she took a seat on the couch in my front room. She was wearing a T-shirt for her favorite "best indie band you never heard of", and a pair of blue jean shorts that came down to a couple inches above her knees. In short, these were clothes she could have worn to the public high school the three of us had attended (and indeed had done, on occasion) without being sent home to change into something the administration would deem more modest. If she had a motive beyond mere conversation, hers were not clothes to suggest that.
"So," I asked in the interest of hospitality. "Can I get you anything to eat or drink?"
"No, I'm good," she said with a smile which quickly dissipated into a flinty edge. "You, not so much."
"Wh-what's wrong?" My mind began to sprint as I pondered the different ways to manifest a single possibility; namely, that Hannah had spoken to her parents about the sex Danielle and I were regularly having.
"I may not have seen exactly why you were at my house last weekend, but I'm guessing you and my sister weren't playing euchre or discussing stock options." She twirled a lock of her hair -- the same rich chestnut shade as Danielle's, but slightly shorter, and more curled -- around her finger. "So... how long have you been fucking my sister?" Her tone was as casual as a discussion of weather, yet as cutting as though she had actually seen me naked and were gratuitously insulting my body.
"Promise you won't tell?" I was blushing, my heart galloping.
"Right now, I'm not promisin' shit." She reached for her purse; I was sure she was making for her phone, to call either Danielle or their parents to tell them where she was and what she knew.
"Put that away!" I cried out.
"Uh-uh-uh, what's the magic wo-ord?" she sing-songed while waving her right index finger back and forth.
"Please!"
"And how're you really gonna stop me... you gonna follow me around everywhere?" She withdrew her left hand from her purse, but maintained a taunting schoolyard glance. "Ya gonna keep me from saying it over dinner? 'Mom, Dad? Jake and Danielle are having sex behind your back, can you pass me the potatoes?'" She paused, but only for a short moment. "I told them I was out with friends tonight... but I didn't say where, or how many."
"Please... for the love of God, don't say anything!" I began to clutch at any idea I could invent. "Danielle hasn't said anything, has she?"
"Hmm, has she or hasn't she," Hannah offered in a vocal tone which clearly indicated she was enjoying toying with me. "Maybe I should... call her and ask?"
"No!" I then lost my head long enough to blurt out words I would regret, both sooner and later -- "I'll do anything you ask, just don't tell anybody."
Hannah's expression shifted instantly, and she raised an eyebrow. "Anything?"
'You know your parents can't know about Danielle and me just yet." I was willing to give her a bit of the cash I was saving out of my pay for date night, or to take my debit card and go out with her on the spot. I even told her that -- but she wasn't thus inclined.
Her smile had long since dissipated. "No, you said 'anything,' and I'm holdin' your ass to it." While she spoke, she whipped her shirt off and stood in a delicate sky-blue bra; I tried to look away, but she wasn't having it. "What's the matter, can't stand to look at tits?"
"N-no, that's not it..."
"Oh that's right, you're only used to my sister's... c'mon, man up and see what you're missing." As i turned toward her, I felt myself stiffening up rapidly (very much in spite of myself, I hasten to point out). Danielle was a 34B with slenderer, more tapered nipples; Hannah, meanwhile, was a solid 36C with fuller, long nipples and broad, dark areolas. She hovered them mere centimeters from my face; it took all my self-control not to dive into them. I began breathing harder against her chest, betraying myself by taking hotter, faster breaths.
