Nate tightened his grip on the controller as he moved his soldier into position. This was his big chance. After several humiliating defeats and virtual teabaggings, he'd finally managed to get an enemy in his sights. He grinned with savage glee as he pressed the fire button and watched his opponent vanish in a satisfying hail of body parts.
"Yeah! That's right!" Nate yelled at the screen. "I just pwned your ass!"
His victory howl abruptly died as the door to his room burst open and his mother's head appeared, her frizzy red hair bound up in a haphazard array of curlers.
"Cheese and
Rice,
Nate!" She exclaimed in her thick mid-western accent. "Keep it down in here, will ya? It's after nine and your father is trying to sleep!"
Nate rolled his eyes. "Okay mom, God!" He looked back at the screen just in time to see his soldier get obliterated by a rocket to the face.
"Dammit!" He exclaimed. "Now I'm dead. Are you happy?"
His mother was unsympathetic. "You watch your mouth, young man! One more swear and you're grounded!"
"Okay! Okay!"
She disappeared and his door shut with a bang. Nate quit the game and flopped down on his bed, sighing in frustration as he ran a hand through his own wavy red hair.
Just another exciting Friday night in the life of Nathaniel Stevens,
he thought dismally.
Playing video games and jerking off, then in bed by ten o'clock.
Nate knew that somewhere out there, parties were happening. People were socializing and having fun. Some might even be having sex. Unfortunately for him, those people tended to be attractive. Popular. Nate was painfully aware that he was neither of those things. He was a geeky, hopeless virgin, a casualty of his own hormone ravaged body. A body that even at eighteen years old still looked like it was fighting a battle with early adolescence and losing.
No one seemed to take him seriously, not even his family. And especially not girls. Sometimes he felt so lonely and sexually frustrated that he thought he was going to explode.
And speaking of which, it was time he got down to business.
Nate went to his computer and opened a hidden video of his favorite porn star Brooklyn sucking like a champ on some lucky bastard's cock... a sensation that he despaired of ever experiencing for himself. Nate liked Brooklyn because she was a foxy, stacked brunette with a body built for sin. In one form or another she was present in most of his hottest, stickiest fantasies, and Nate would happily have sold his soul for just one night with her -- if he'd thought his soul was worth anything.
He gave a wistful sigh, then set the video on repeat and undid his pants. He was fapping away at a fever pitch when his older sister Stacy suddenly burst into his room without warning.
"Hey dorkus," she began. "Where's... Oh My GOD!"
"Jesus fucking Christ!" Nate yelled, doing his best to cover his dick and hide the video at the same time. He really, really, needed a lock for his door. His sister squealed and fled, hollering as she went down the hall.
"Mom! Nate said the F-word! And he was
masturbating!
"
Nate pulled up his pants and let his forehead fall to the desk with a thump. Just when he thought his life couldn't get any worse, it still had a way of surprising him.
* * *
The next morning at breakfast, Stacy kept kicking him and sticking her tongue out like a five-year-old. Nate kicked back and immediately regretted it.
"I heard that if you masturbate you'll go blind," his sister declared loudly. "Is that true, Mom?"
"No, honey. It's not," their mother answered, looking at Nate with an awkward smile. He poked at his fruit loops and pretended not to notice, silently praying that a small meteor would crash through the roof and vaporize him.
"Masturbation is perfectly healthy and natural," his mom continued, then turned toward her husband. "Isn't it, dear?"
His dad choked and had to gulp down half his orange juice before he could speak.
"Err, I suppose. But that's hardly a subject to discuss at the breakfast table."
An uncomfortable silence followed. Finally, their father cleared his throat.
"Ahem. Anyway," he said, seeming eager to talk about something else. "What do you have planned for today, Nathaniel?"
"Nuthin' really," Nate replied, though he was entertaining the idea of finding a tall building to leap from, or perhaps quietly suffocating his sister with a pillow.
"Well, would you like to help out at the store?" His father asked. "We just got some new items in."
"Sure," Nate unenthusiastically replied. "Why not."
His dad was co-owner of an antique shop downtown. Nate was allergic to dust and working there wasn't much fun, but at this point he was up for anything that would get him out of the house and away from his mother and sister. Sometimes it was hard to believe that he was actually related to these people.
Especially his sister. Besides being pure concentrated evil, Stacy was his exact opposite. She was barely a year older than him, but she was tall, athletic, and popular. She had also inherited their dad's dark hair. And although he would never admit it, Nate was forced to accept that she was rather attractive. At least as far as sisters went.
Then there was Mom. She'd put on a few extra pounds, but he supposed she was in good shape for being in her early forties. She also seemed a little insane. His mother was always apologizing, worrying, or praying. She acted like everything that went wrong in the world was somehow her fault. Nate saw the clear signs of a guilty conscience, but besides occasionally burning dinner or forgetting to wash his favorite jacket, she'd committed no crimes that he knew of.
Dad was... well, Dad. He wasn't complicated. He had a lame sense of humor, was passionate about his model ships and never drank or raised his voice. He was a tall, stocky man, dark-haired and mildly handsome. Nate couldn't help but wonder if he resented having a son that was nothing like him.
