All I knew was that I'd tossed and turned all night. I woke up at 4:30 wondering about so many different things: Committing incest with my sister—more than once; letting Candy help me nail Stephie. Should I tell Reggie about my sister and me? Ah, that one I crossed off as soon as it occurred to me.
After that I had comingled thoughts about fucking--first Stephie, who was promptly joined alongside Candy and then Reggie. I tried keeping focused on Reggie, but images of Mrs. Rodriquez and her daughter, Rosa popped in and out of my half dream, half conscious state. There was even a brief moment when I envisioned myself humping Sydnie-Ann Jablonski from behind that left me with a roaring hardon, and of course no alternative other than to jack off to ease things back to normal--whatever that was.
It was at precisely that moment that I realized Stephie and my mother bore a striking resemblance to one another. Yes, I realized this was not that unusual inasmuch as Stephie had my mother's genes, but suddenly I was picturing my mother differently--not as my mother, but as a woman; a tall, long-legged and shapely woman.
Willie Martin, one of my over-sexed, but closest friends, was unabashed in comparing her to various movie stars and not shy at all about telling me he thought she had great tits and was always trying to catch a glimpse up her skirt or down her blouse while drinking a Pepsi as my mother did housework around us. To my surprise, my mother wasn't home. Her bed hadn't been slept in and the house itself didn't have that usual 'everything in its place look.' Being a typical teenager, I had thought only of myself on arriving home the night before and being completely fucked out, had drunk a quart of milk and gone to bed without calling out any greeting to let my mother know I was home.
This was totally unlike my mother, who I knew to be at little on the obsessive-compulsive side, in that she was a control-freak. Because of the hour, I held off calling Stephie, deciding to get my ass back into bed, but unable to sleep, got up and wandered about the apartment mulling over those thoughts and others while fondling my morning boner.
I relieved myself, but the bone remained so I explored Stephie's old room hoping to find something sexy she'd left behind. It was not to be. Stephie was too methodical; she'd taken everything but her old teddies and a few dolls.
That left my mother's bedroom. It was strange realizing her bed had not been slept in. She must have had a date that went well as she was obviously sleeping over.
Mom, actually, Rachel Lamella to use her maiden name--which was her preference even though she was only separated from my father, Jeffery Crowder--was the almost invisible force that had unified my small world until Stephie and that fateful weekend. She was always there. Except now she was missing.
That had never happened before--no note, no phone, no nothing. It never occurred to me that she might be lying in a hospital somewhere following an accident or worse.
Until the separation, Mom was a stay-at-home mom, but made a point of always being properly dressed, and not going about in a housecoat or lounging pajamas or the like until after nine at night when visitors were unlikely.
I formed a mental image of her on a typical morning, stopping before the full-length mirror to check herself out. I saw her adjusting her clothing, touching her hair, straightening her back until assured that she looked every part the successful businesswoman she was. I also recalled the final, curt nod she gave to her reflection before stepping out and kissing me goodbye in the kitchen where I usually sat finishing breakfast.
But then I began to poke around the lingerie in her dresser and recalled her sexuality and compared it with that of my sister, Stephie. Oh, I was definitely a bad boy. I squeezed my cock with one hand and fingered her panties and bras with the other. Occasionally I brought a particularly sexy item to my nose and sniffed away; enjoying whatever fragrance it held while imagining they were being worn on her silky thighs and satin-covered breasts. I was literally dripping precum.
Overcome by sexual need, I wrapped my boner in a pair of her panties and within a few seconds had flooded them with semen. That left me with a problem I hadn't counted on. What to do with the semen coated undies. If I threw them away: A. she might find them, and B. if I rinsed them out, she might come home before I dried them and put them away, or even C. she'd know anyway, whatever I did. I lay them on the small table next to my bed and decided to deal with the problem when I woke up. I tried not to think about item B. and sexually satiated for the moment, fell fast asleep.
And woke up late for school that morning, groggily wondering why my mother hadn't woken me as she usually did. I gulped down a bowl of cereal, had some OJ and left a note for my mother that I was home missed seeing her but had gone off to school and would see her around four, or so. I had no doubt about her reading it.
Then I was out the door and walking briskly in the spring breeze. I was looking forward to groping Regina a few times during the day and hoping to hump her once or twice before heading home for dinner if we could find a safe place to do the deed. ________________________________________
Halfway to my high school I turned a corner and heard a noise. I stopped and listened because it sounded like a girl or a woman crying. In the doorway of a recently closed Tobacconist I saw her.
It was a girl about my age, other than the fact that she was crying I couldn't tell where or even if she was injured. What struck me was that she wore the uniform of the St. Veronica's Catholic School, but that was blocks away. Their students didn't wander by this area very often and sensed trouble and looked around to see if anyone else was in the vicinity. There wasn't and I went to the girl's side.
It was a long moment before I realized that I knew this girl. Her name was Becky Chase and she lived at the opposite end of the block from me. Normally a pretty girl, her face was now marred by two black streaks down her cheeks.
"Becky, what happened? Are you all right?"
She turned toward me and tried to focus, but her eyes were filled with tears and it took her some time before she was able to see me clearly. "Howie? Is that you, Howie?"
"Yes, Becky, it's me. Are you all right?"
"W-what are you doing here?" She asked, as she pulled her arms around her legs, hugging herself tightly.
"I'm on my way to school."
"Now?"
"Yeah, well, I'm kinda running late."
"Ohhh."
Since she wasn't about to stand up, I sat down next to her and said: "I heard you crying, you know?"
"Ohhh, well there's nothing you can do so just go away. Just leave me alone."
"Becky, I've known you for years and I won't leave you when you obviously need help."
When she didn't move away from me I took it as a positive and came closer, even placed a hand on her shoulder and nudged her to him. That was all it took. Becky immediately burst into tears and chest heaving sobs then launched her upper body onto mine and clung to me.
Not knowing what else to do, I brought my other arm around to encase her, stroking her hair and whispering that it was all right that I was there for her.
We remained like that until Becky's sobs became little sniffles and hiccups. I handed her my handkerchief and she used it to wipe her eyes, cheeks and then blow her nose. She finally sat up a bit and tried to blot the tears that had soaked into my shirt.
As she started to get herself together, I had an opportunity to check her out at close range. She was definitely shorter than me, with straight, shoulder length brown hair and only a subtle trace of makeup. Becky's breasts were not really large, but they filled the blouse she had on nicely. Her legs were long and toned and her skirt, having worked its way much higher than it was supposed to, provided me with a glimpse of thigh that ended where the elastic around the leg of her panties began.
I started to berate myself for taking advantage of her as distraught as she was then decided to enjoy the sights provided and no more than that unless she wanted to go further.
She finally brought her head up to look directly at his face. "Thank you for stopping to help me, and letting me cry on your shoulder. I can't believe that I got your shirt all wet."
"Hey, we've known each other a long time. I mean even though we don't see each other much anymore, we're still friends. And friends are supposed to help each other."
"Yeah, I guess. I just can't believe that Gavin dumped me after we..." She stopped before finishing the sentence.
Whoa, she'd just given me a shit-load of information. Maybe more than I needed to know.
"Are you headed for school? I can walk you most of the way if you want."
"Oh, no, I was going, but I couldn't face ... I mean, I don't think I could handle classes today. I'll just go home."
"Your parents there?"
