I read a couple of other stories that were "Fantasy" Fantasies that inspired this. I will warn you that I've written this first arc, the first "book" (If you will) and there may be more, there may not. The plot of this story is trying to cure the love potion. It gets weirder (more fantasy-ish) as it goes along. And each "Part" includes our main character getting off at least once. It's not always "incest" sex going on, so be prepared for that. Also, the women won't always be "the sexiest things alive" either. I hope I balance the sex and plot well. Some parts will be longer than others.
As always if you care to volunteer and edit me, just shoot me a message. You can go through any story I've put out and I'll re-release it, or take up on this one if it's not all published yet. There are going to be about twelve parts to this.
Thank you! Please remember to Vote or Comment as that's the only quantifiable way that I know somebody finished any of my stories, it motivates me! You can do it anonymously and it just takes a couple of seconds.
Part 1 - Number 11 Shrub Street
"Hi Westley!" The neighbor from down the road called from the sidewalk, catching me reminiscing about the brick house I'd grown up in, some fun memories and some not. At first sight a sigh had escaped me at being home again. On the heels of that the deeper, more worrisome question; was I moving forward or backward? Even temporarily there was a fear in my head that everyone would think I was the loser living at home again. "Westley, yoo hoo?"
"Oh hey, sorry Mr. Figg, how are you? Hey Tibbles." He gruffed at the sound of his name, the German Shepherd Tibbles, not the old man.
"Back home for a minute I hear."
"Yeah, for a minute. Second week of the new year I'll be gone again." Smiling, once more reminded that Defluer was a small town, this random neighbor basically already knew my schedule. My first reminder had been when I'd stopped to get gas, the attendant was a girl I'd gone to high school with, after the initial hellos and how have you beens, she'd whispered all the juiciest gossip to me between helping other customers. A forty-minute stream of it, with some of the customers filling in extra information when my former classmate was too excited or not quiet enough and the customer overheard. Unbothered by it I made small talk. "It's nice to be home. Are you doing good?"
"Old and gassy but that hasn't really changed." Smirking at his own joke.
"Stop eating all that cabbage."
"It should stop being so delicious and I would." I used to help him pick the stuff he grew in his backyard, mom getting a homemade canned jar of the stuff for my troubles. I had actually sort of liked it but only in the last year before I'd moved away. The bushy eyebrowed old man got tugged a few feet by his dog, who was bored of the conversation. "Tell your mom I said hi. Don't forget to carve some time for her, she misses you. She was so excited to hear you'd be home for two months."
"Alright, I will Mr. Figg." Smiling at the old man who smiled back, before shuffling on his way down the road, all of six feet before Tibbles stopped to smell something.
Turning back to the brick house I returned to my thoughts, my worries. I was twenty-five. It had been almost eight years since I'd moved away for University, it felt like a lifetime. I wasn't moving back, not officially, just temporary. After the holidays I would be returning to Cedar Rapids, a fellow alumni had gotten me in where he works, but I had to wait until after the holidays. Mostly because the company didn't want to fire the guy who had 'my job' during them. Just to complicate matters more my roommates, who had started dating each other two weeks after I'd moved in, broke up. Neither of them wanted to stay in the apartment because of "all the memories" so they split the fee to get out of the lease early. Both of them offered me a room at their new places, but the HR lady at the big hardware store I'd been working at since I started University said that I couldn't cash in my vacation and sick time just for a payout, not once I put in my two weeks. She had liked me, I won't say she had a crush on me because that sounded arrogant but she was always saying I reminded her of her celebrity crush. It was probably that crush that got her to suggest I put all my time in for the entire run of holidays. After which she had said for the price of a couple drinks she'd backdate my two weeks so I would only have to come in to pick her up to hit the bar for my "Bon Voyage" party.
That was better than just working and cashing everything out, in my book. Add to that my roommates felt bad about "breaking up the family" so they refused to take my share of the rent for the last month. The only bill I was going home with was my car and phone payment. With vacation checks still hitting my bank account I was actually pretty flush with cash. Mom wouldn't dream of letting me pay rent, would be hurt if she didn't supply most of my meals. Which made it more of a vacation than most people got paying for everything and getting "away". It would be a nice month and a half, a long vacation before my career really started.
And yes, Mr. Figg was right, I would have to keep in mind to spend time with mom. Although a lot of my friends were clamoring to see me once they'd heard I was back for an extended period. More than a couple of them were girls, I wasn't exactly a one-night stand sort of guy, but I thought it would be nice to know how into me they were. It made my stomach squirrelly thinking about being gossipped about all across Defluer, about how I messed around with X and Y before leaving them both for Cedar Rapids. I'd keep it in my pants, but also get a nice ego boost if the ladies made it obvious they were not meeting me as "just friends".
Shaking my head clear of those worries I grabbed my computer bag, the other two pieces of baggage could wait for later. Gordon had let me use the basement storage unit that came with his place, so if I decided to stay with him or get my own place (I was really thinking about that with the amount of pay I'd be getting at the new job.) then I wouldn't be dragging my furniture and TV all the way to Defluer and then back to wherever I ended up in Cedar Rapids. Right now I just wanted to get in and visit with mom. It had been since Christmas last year that I'd been home. I had only realized that on the drive here. After having that sad thought I also figured out that I hadn't talked to mom but four times since then, two of those calls were under three minutes.
I felt like shit.
I was a bad son.
Worse was knowing she didn't even have my sister, who had gotten knocked up and married a year out of high school while I was away at University. Her and her new shotgun wedding husband had moved away a few months after their kid was born, to chase some "really great" jobs that couldn't have been so great considering they were always claiming money troubles. I didn't have much but ever since her graduation I had been putting my sister's (and now her husband's) name on Christmas and Birthday presents I (we) gave to mom.
Mom, who was all alone in the house. With only four tiny calls from me all year.
Deciding then, as I walked up, that at least for a week I would limit myself to just mom. Just me and her, unless she was at work. Work and Sunday night, as one of my horny (I thought) classmates was blowing up my social media insisting I hang with her.
Lost in thought when I got to the door I almost knocked! I had been here so little that my first instinct was to knock! Shaking my head I stepped inside, the door was unlocked, it was Defluer but it was also Shrub Street. Which was a cul-de-sac dead-end road that had about ten nosey neighbors who would be calling the cops if they saw anything near suspicious. Hell the only reason I hadn't gotten the cops called on me was because mom had told enough people that all twelve houses along the road probably knew who I was when I drove in. New car or not.
It was quiet inside. Which was actually nice, the place with the boys in Cedar Rapids hadn't ever been quiet. Between Gordon and Malcolm, me, and neighbors to four sides of the apartment there was always noise. That's if you discounted the general constant background noise of the city. Here I wandered into what seemed like complete silence. Peace, where nothing really had changed, not since WELL before I had moved away. That was as nice as the quiet.
"What the..?" Not to anybody but myself really, recognizing the shape of my old Playstation jutting out from a beat-up old box that was also familiar. With a big smile on my face I put my computer bag on the dining room table as I hurried over to the kitchen island counter where the old box was. Inside was also my favorite games, ones that I just hadn't been able to get rid of when I'd upgraded the last time and packed all these into the back of my closet. "Oh frick no!"
Delighted as well as embarrassed as I opened the Crown Royal bag to see what was inside. I dumped out the bag on the marble countertop next to the box to look at it all. Shame and delight running through me in turns as I sorted through the items that were no doubt trash to anybody else. To me they were all mortifying memories of my first year of high school when I'd gone through my Goth phase. Two "voodoo" dolls of teachers from my Freshman year of high school, those were more funny than embarrassing. Black eyeliner and lipstick, which I had worn, was all embarrassing and only now a little funny to think about now. A bunch of random keepsakes like a ticket for a punk band concert with a purple lipstick kiss mark on it, I couldn't name a single song that the band sang but I hadn't gone because I was a fan.
