Sera

Steven

"I'm

not

gonna go crazy," I told myself with a smile.

Standing under a spray of hot water that was being delivered by the best showerhead ever manufactured, I was loving the heated sensation and the memory of what Ashleigh had told me.

I was awoken five minutes earlier by a tiny paw touching my mouth just before twilight. Of course, it was Stanley, probably trying to tell me he was hungry. I gave him a pat and heaved myself up and out of bed, carrying him with me to the kitchenette where I found his food and two bowls. With the wildlife taken care of, I grabbed a beer and headed to the shower.

"You know what?" I asked myself. "We should throw in with Ashleigh."

"Not so fast," I cautioned myself in reply.

"Aw, fuck off. You know it's the right way to jump."

"It's what my instincts are telling me, but I wanna talk to Mum first. Plus, there's a few other things I'd like to go over with Ashleigh. I don't see why she needs an answer right away, anyhow."

"'Cause she's probably not sure how long anybody's staying and time is of the essence for her."

"I suppose."

"She's what we've been waiting for. She has the information we need and she can control Mum. What else is there to debate, anyway?"

" ... We're talking to Mum first."

I turned the water off and got out of the shower. While drying, I pondered Ashleigh's warning that Mum would beat the hell out of me again, and the way our relationship had subtly changed since her adjustment of me. Maybe it was all the other Burchell women around me, but my attraction to her was different. It's not as if I wasn't horny for her anymore, but I'd noticed how the uncontrollable erections weren't happening whenever I was around her any longer.

"That could be an unintended aftereffect of her adjustment."

"Maybe. I'm still damned curious about whatever's going on with that."

"Hm... well, here's something else for us to chew on: Her overall body count knocks the wind out of us whenever we think of it, but when we remember that she killed Dad..."

"It's like this... numbness."

"Yeah."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

"Okay, let's not get all down about it now, though. Hell, we're gonna be sane." I laughed.

I threw on the same clothes I was wearing earlier that day and tried to check Mum's apartment for her, but her door was locked. Knocking yielded no results, so I started down the hallway. This time, I figured out where I was going quite soon, an area that I wasn't able to fully explore earlier for reasons of propriety.

I wondered how long Sheila had been there as I took a seat on a barstool next to hers in the pool cave of Ashleigh's basement. She was speaking with the bartender, a tall, thin, blonde male this time, and showed surprise to find me to be the one who'd joined her.

"Heeey, Stevo!"

"Hi, Sheila."

"Where you been?" she asked with a friendly and sincere smile, her eyes briefly flicking up and down my body as she idly stirred her coconut drink with a straw.

"Sleeping."

"Sleeping? What's wrong with ya?"

"The automotive version of jetlag, probably. Just kinda kicked in earlier."

"Oh. I've heard it sometimes takes a week of normal sleeping habits to get back to normal after severe exhaustion. Hey, I'd buy you a drink, but everything's on the house anyway, so..."

"I'm the guy, I'm supposed to buy you a drink anyway," I said, smiling at the bartender who was smiling at both of us. "I'll have a

Canadian,

please."

"Comin' right up, Mr. Burchell. Name's Sheldon, by the way."

"Hey, Sheldon. You're the night bartender, I take it?"

"Yep. I'm actually expecting more company soon. This bar is open to off duty staff, so it's a pretty fun place. They have a lot of parties and stuff here."

"Cool," I judged, noting how he'd called me Mr. 'Burchell'.

"I like it here," Sheila put in. "Mostly because the people who don't like me aren't here. Their spot seems to be the library, and it's been made pretty clear that I'm not welcome there."

"Their loss," I said, nodding politely to Sheldon for placing my beer before me on a fancy, silver coaster. "How long have you been here, anyway?"

"Why?"

"Well, I was in here earlier this morning and I saw you."

"Well, I wasn't here all day," she laughed. "And I didn't see you, why didn't you say hi, ya snob?" she joked.

"You were a bit busy at the time."

"I was?"

"With the red headed bartender."

"Oopsie. (Giggle!)"

"How much of that stuff have you had?" I asked with a smile as I gestured to her drink.

"Not that much. Hey, I'm just glad someone besides Ash is cool in this fuckin' family," she said afterwards. "So, did you have fun watching me and Collette?"

I swallowed a mouthful of beer and admitted, "Actually, I backed out of the place when I saw that."

"Why?"

"I thought I'd give you some privacy," I said with a wide smile and a hardening dick at the memory of her sexual assault upon the willing bartender and the smell of her perfume beside me.

"What a gentleman. You could have stayed though, I wouldn't have minded."

"I'll keep that in mind next time I see you molesting Aunt Ashleigh's staff."

She chuckled over this as I watched her. I really did like Sheila and I wished the others would lighten up on her.

"Hey, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"It might be a bit personal," I warned.

"It's fine. I don't mind a personal question from someone who means well."

"Okay, thanks. Well, I was wondering about your conversation with Ashleigh in her den last night. Did you get the feeling that she was being up front with you and everything?"

"Yes, I did."

"Okay... So, you believe she's got nothing to hide and she really just wants to bring the family together?"

"What would she have to hide? But yeah, so far I think she's good. Maybe a bit overbearing and eccentric, but who am I to talk?"

"I ask because you seem pretty sharp with people."

"I can hold my own," she admitted with a shrug of one shoulder and a smile. "Why, what do you think? Have you spoken with her yet?"

"Yes. I'm leaning in the direction you're at, but..."

"But what? You also think she may be an Iranian spy?"

"No!" I laughed as she briefly ran her eyes up and down my body again. "I'm just... you know."

"Fuckin' paranoid is what

you

are. That's your Mum's fault, she was always like that. In all our little capers, she never made a move unless she was totally sure all bases were covered, up to and including the unlikely event of the meter reader showing up. You believe that?"

"Well, she

is

pretty good."

"That she is," Sheila admitted, holding up her glass for a toast a moment later. "Here's to you, Kathy. I love you, but you're a bitch."

I had to laugh at the mixed sentiment as I toasted and drank to it, mentioning after, "She hates that name, you know."

"Yeah, I know. She always let me use it, though."

"I hope you two can come to get along again. Like you used to."

"Me too. I've missed her. Is she really that mad at me?"

"I'd say, yeah. But... There's this other thing..."

"What other thing?"

"Well, no matter how mad she is, I know she misses you, too. She talks about you a lot and it's not all bad. She reminisces about the 'misery sisters' with a smile."

"Really?"

"Yup."

"Right on... Um, did she tell you... what happened at home?"

"With your Mum and what finally happened with your father, yes."

"Okay. ... Do you think she'd ever forgive me?"

We'd turned serious at this point and it was easy to see how genuine she was. As my new friend, Sheila became another reason right then and there for throwing in with Ashleigh.

"I think she could, yeah."

She smiled and signaled for another drink, saying afterwards, "I don't mean to bring the party down, but I sure appreciate how you don't treat me like shit. You got a good friend here, kid."

"I know. I like you a lot, Aunt Sheila."

"Now... what'd I tell you about calling me that?" she asked, trying to be stern, but ending up grinning playfully. "Huh?"

"You said you'd have my tongue if I ever did it again," I told her with my own wide grin back in place as I took another sip of my beer.

"That's right, so stick it out."

"Get outta here."

"Nope, I'm serious. Let's have the tongue."

"I'm not sticking my tongue out."

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"Impudent little shit! You're not even allowed to drink! You give me that tongue before I throw your ass out that door!"

"Pff-fffttt!"

"Don't think I can do it?" she challenged with a daring smile, even sitting straighter on the stool in the same yellow summer dress she wore earlier.

"I

know

you can't."

"What if I said I took a self defense course? Oh yeah, don't be fooled by my size. I'm tough."

I couldn't help laughing at this point, and couldn't stop. I waved her away as I gestured for another beer, shaking my head as I continued laughing.

"I'm serious, kid. I really did take a self defense class," she insisted.

"I know Jujitsu. I'd beat you before you could raise a finger to stop me."

"Ohhh, fuck

off

," she said, shoving me by the shoulder much like Ashleigh had earlier and almost pushing me off the bar stool. "Everyone says that; you are so

lame!"

"I really do, though!"

"No you don't! Gimmie that tongue!"

I stuck it out at her, pushing my face forward and pasting a childishly dirty expression on my face. I thought it was pretty funny, but she was on me in a split second, her hand at the back of my head as she sucked my tongue practically out of my mouth. It actually hurt and I yelled, laughing at the same time and sounding like I had a mental disability with my tongue in her mouth. I had to grab on to her as she leaned over me in order to not fall backwards, and we had this moment amidst our suddenly very sexual horseplay where our eyes met...

She let me go with a fun loving, delirious giggle before she snarled playfully at me, saying in a low tone, "

That'll

teach you to disobey your elders, kid."

"Yer a silly little bitch, Aunt Sheila."

" ... Oh, my. See, now I'm gonna have to have that tongue again, aren't I? Oh yes I am," she sweetly informed me.

I gave it to her and the next thing I knew, we were all over each other. It was an incredibly hot make out session that had me so hard it almost hurt. Her presence was remarkable, her smell so pure and I could almost taste a great hunger in her mouth as I forgot all about the other person in the room and the rest of the world in general.

We stopped in some comic surprise when a group of two men and two women walked in, all of them attractive and presumably some of the off duty staff Sheldon was expecting. They smiled and waved when they looked at us in each other's arms, me with a guilty smile, embarrassed at having been caught in an uncompromising position with my own aunt, but nodding back politely. Sheila, still breathing a bit hard and with her beautiful blonde hair mussed up, showed them a wicked grin as we slowly let go of each other.

"God-dam, I love 'em young and fresh. Am I right, ladies?"

They loved this, especially the women as they literally applauded Sheila, cheering while the guys laughed. She went back to her seat and I openly watched as her perfect, slender body moved, as that lovely ass settled on the bar stool. She propped her elbows on the edge of the bar, picked up her drink and dangled it from her fingers and limp wrist as she looked back over at me. Seeing my blatant attention, she shot a naughty grin as she spread her knees somewhat wide.

"Ho-ly

fuck

, you're hot," I laughed with true appreciation, her reputation the furthest thing from my mind.

"(Giggle!)"

Kitten

I clicked the mouse to replay the

Pink Floyd

song, the one Sheila had mentioned. Waiting through the first half of

Thin Ice,

I listened closer to the second, the part she was most likely speaking of. I replayed it three more times before I was done, sitting back in the computer chair, looking up at the ceiling contemplatively.

I could understand how she'd take these lines and make them her personal anthem, how someone like her would be forced to see things that way in order to sleep at night. It made me wonder at just how many lives she'd ruined and it was all too easy to picture the silent reproach of a million tear stained eyes behind her. She deserved to go through the thin ice, to drown in them.

The shower stopped and, a few minutes later, Gina's voice preceded her appearance from the bathroom. She was in a pretty good mood, which was a nice switch from her frowning disapproval, and it was something that I could maybe work some satisfaction out of as I thought again of Auntie Ashleigh and our naughty secret.

"-can't believe I wore that to the pool, even

walked there

like that without so much as a robe, but Kathleen is so cool and she made it seem so natural at the t- Uh oh. I can hear the wheels turning," she finished with a smile, a towel wrapped around her fabulous body while drying her hair with a smaller one.

She had that expression of light concern, the smiling one, the one my old Gina would often have on her face, and I was a little surprised to see it as she regarded me lovingly and obviously. I could tell she was horny. I could always tell when my Gina was horny.

I wore a fuchsia blouse and, following the example of both my aunts, I left it unbuttoned far enough to show the top of my simple, skimpy white bra. My matching cotton panties were hidden by a pair of medium blue stretch jeans that were short enough to perfectly bring off my snakeskin ball-breakers, the ones she'd bought me in what seemed like another lifetime as she patiently waited for my response.

"It's nothing."

"I doubt that. Spill."

I told her of the song Sheila had mentioned before playing it, telling her to pay special attention to that second half.

"Well, there's a lot of truth to that sentiment," she judged. "Unfortunately, some people would take that as convenient justification of their total disregard others."

"She was pretty unapologetic about the way she is, but I think it's just an act. I think she actually does have a conscience."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. It's just that it can't stand up to her horny. She disregards her conscience because it's all she can do."

"That's a lot of credit for her, isn't it?"

"Maybe. Yeah, I guess. Auntie Ashleigh says I should give her a chance."

Gina regarded me for a moment before her eyes went to the floor, this being her turn to be contemplative before she looked back up at me to speak her mind.

"I'm reminded of something your cousin told me earlier about swimming with sharks."

"What was that?"

"About those who say that sharks aren't really dangerous, that they only bite people because they mistake them for seals. Whether or not Sheila has a conscious, she still bites. She's still dangerous."

"Good point. So, what was he telling you about swimming with sharks?"

"Like I said, I'm not sure of what point he was getting at. He asked me how I was with inconvenient truths and then got into this metaphor about swimming with sharks and how nobody could be blamed for not wanting to go in the water with the lifeguard."

"You think he was talking about Sheila?"

" ... I don't think so. He seemed a little dark about it and I have no idea what he was getting at."

"Curious."

"More like

weird

."

I didn't reply, instead looked at the computer screen's variety of available

Pink Floyd

songs while I processed this. Gina kept drying her hair, immersed in her own thoughts while I scrolled with no real interest in playing anything else.

"So, what do you wanna do?" she asked.

"About his shark thing?"

"In general."

" ... I don't know. ... How about something filthy?"

"Oh, here we go," she joked, familiar with this bored/horny mood, but she was probably unprepared for how my mind had been revved up.

"Really filthy."

"Uh huh."

Almost two hours later, we were outside, sitting at the patio table for an evening snack. Gina was dressed very nicely in a pair of black yoga pants that I convinced her to wear with an off the shoulder, pink top that showed off her bust line nicely without the cleavage she didn't really like showing anymore. At least she still had enough sense to wear a push-up bra and the pink, three inch heels I'd forced on her made her look almost like she used to.

The attractive, mid thirtyish, blonde Lynette approached our table, but I spoke before she did, smiling politely as I inquired of her.

"Lynette, have you ever been an exotic dancer?"

"No, Ma'am," she replied with a smile.

"You could be."

"Very nice of you to say, Ms. Burchell."

"No, it's true. Isn't it, Gina?"

"A- yes. Yes, you certainly could be a very successful dancer."

Lynette was sincerely complimented by our opinion and, in her smart business suit, I could all too easily see her on the stage of my mind's eye. She even had this short black tie that I made mental note of for myself in the future as I eyed her chest, completely covered by the conservative silver blouse that was buttoned to her neck.

"Why not try it?" I suggested, excited as hell, adding, "For me and Gina."

"Would you prefer music?" she asked to Gina's subtle gasp.

"Uh... I never thought of that." I said, thinking that music really would be better, especially for the very compliant Lynette.

"Kat, I hope you haven't-"

"Don't worry, sweetie pie."

Quite possibly, it was only her hormones that accepted that, but she said nothing further as we both watched Lynette produce one of those new flat screen phones with all the 'app' thingies, whatever they are.

"Preferences, Ma'am?"

I looked at Gina and I could see she was into this despite herself. This was far different from what happened with Bradley the groundskeeper, and I figured it was safe to let her have some say with a raised brow.

Laughing a little, she hesitated before allowing,

"Ava Adore."

I let out a low giggle. It was one of Gina's all time, professional favourites and for good reason. She had that particular little act down to genius level standards, and I was a little surprised she'd chosen it, but damned glad she did.

"Very well, Ms. Green."

"It's Gina's dance, by the way," I put in, looking at Gina as she laughed nervously, looking back at me with cautioned good humour, obviously trusting me not to take things too far despite her hormones.

Then the music was starting, the electronic gizmo turned up and put on the table as Lynette began seductively moving to the music with a big smile for my Gina. I had to hand it to the older blonde; Once that slightly nervous smile faded, she quickly became really good for someone who'd claimed to have never danced before. She even took her pace into account, considering most acts last over the time-space of three songs, and the demeanor of her body matched that of her face, erotically complimenting the powerful, dirty beat of the

Smashing Pumpkins

tune.

What began as a curiously hesitant self exploration rather quickly became harder rubbing that displaced her clothes, lowered her full, bottom lip. She grabbed aggressively at her boobies while looking Gina up and down, pulling her blazer open at her belly and practically walking out of it as she advanced on her from across the table. Lynette made a show of removing the chair that was there, pointedly setting it aside while never taking her eyes from Gina in a pose that thrust her boobies and bum out, feet at shoulder width until she again advanced.

Our private dancer was up on the table, neatly under our umbrella in a lithe movement I might never have expected from someone who wore a suit. Gina was surprised and visibly impressed, but still transfixed while our server pressed her boobies around the umbrella pole. With a wanton flourish, she slowly tore her blouse open, and I couldn't help but smile wider when I heard a small sound come from Gina. I tore my eyes from Lynette and caught my lover's eye, enjoying her excited expression. It all but thanked me.