Editor's note: this submission contains scenes of non-consensual, dubiously consensual or reluctant sexual situations.
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This story is part of the 2011 Summer Lovin' Contest.
It's a little out there, and might not be for everyone, or anyone. There's some Non-Consent (or worse), incest, non-PC dialog, and over the top performances. But it's all in fun, really. It's just a story.
Right?
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It was funny how over the summer my friends changed. With school out, the neighborhood became more important than the sports and popularity cliques, and this year it meant hanging out with Jerry Mallory more. Something I would NEVER do in school. He was a nerd and outcast, but he had his own group of weirdo gamers to hang out with, birds-of-a-feather and all that.
During the summer break, Jerry had 5 things going for him which hadn't really mattered much before, and were now changing my opinion of him as a friend.
1) Although he lived in a different neighborhood, much more upscale, he only lived about 150 yards away, 3 blocks over. If I cut through the Davis's side yard, and went through the alley, it was almost like we were on the same block.
2) He always had spending money. His second stepfather, though never around, was a generous old fart. Jerry had a debit card that we could run a couple of hundred dollars a week through without hearing a peep about it.
3) He had a great yard. Their pool was flanked by a long building which included the pool-house, a billiards room (with a half dozen genuine arcade machines), a completely outfitted workout room, and sauna.
And then there was the backyard eye-candy. Specifically:
4) Danielle. Jerry's stepsister was home from college, and the first time I saw her I almost crapped my pants. Un-fucking-believable, like she'd just stepped out of the pages of Playboy. She spent most of her days out by the pool, wearing the smallest of bikinis, with an assortment of friends coming and going, and sneaking beers whenever nobody was looking. Any excuse to see the second best looking girl in the neighborhood worked for me. And if that meant weird Jerry was my new best buddy, so be it.
5) Jill. His mother, Jill, was the best-looking woman in the neighborhood. Hands down. Mrs. Mallory wasn't always half-naked by the poolside, like the aforementioned Danielle. She was too busy watching after her 3 kids, Jerry and the step-kids who were still at home. She was occupied with clubs, causes, and all the other crap that came with being a trophy wife. She still made the occasional pool appearance, but didn't seem to like Danielle's crowd. If I timed it right, I could workout with her in their gym. She was fanatical about her 'personal' time, and spent easily two hours a day in there. Her trainer Donna, yet another hotty, was around a few times a week to keep her in line.
Getting to work out with Jerry's mom usually required either going over early, like before 8:00am, or staying around late, around nine-ish. The morning was more interesting, since that was when she worked out with the weights. In the evening it was mostly cardio on one of the stationary bikes, but at least a couple of times a week that was followed up by a late swim. For me, that was the grand prize. Those nights she'd work out in tight shorts and a top that wasn't much more than a sports bra, which struggled mightily to contain her bodacious knockers, especially when the big screen in front of her bike showed her climbing the steep hills. She'd rise up on the pedals, and pound away at them, her magical tits bouncing and swaying with each new stroke of her leg.
It had been about 4 weeks since school let out, and I was becoming a fixture in the Mallory household. Danielle seemed to have gotten over her condescending attitude and even remembered my name occasionally. I learned a little more about her as my constant presence was tolerated and even taken advantage of on occasion. Jerry's Mom had ruled that Danielle and her friends were not allowed to drink at their house. Some history there I guess. One afternoon, when the backyard was unusually empty, I decided to be brave and stretched out on the recliner next to her. I had a beer with me; they didn't seem to mind if Jerry and I had the occasional brew. Danielle looked over at me peeling off those sunglasses to give me one of her vicious condescending glares. Instead she surprised me with a little smile.
"I'm thirsty, mind if I have a sip?" she asked nodding toward my beer.
"I'll get you one if you like."
"No, I don't need a whole one. We could just share yours." She even deigned to smile at me.
I was excited to think of her lips touching the same bottle as mine. We shared two beers by the pool, and she seemed almost pleasant. A little later Jerry pulled me to the side. "Don't let Mom or Dad catch you giving her beer. She knows she's not allowed."
"It's just half a beer," I told him.
"I'm not kidding. You'll be cut off too."
I took the warning to heart, and was much more aware of who was around when I offered to share my beer with Danni. Much more careful to disguise it as well. We never went through more than a couple together. She was a much nicer person with half a beer in her. Almost likable. She'd even chat with me.
Jerry's mother grew tolerant of my constant presence. If her trainer wasn't with her when she worked out, there was a good chance I'd be around. If she needed help with anything, I was the man. Unload the van? In a heartbeat. Anything to be in her presence.
At first she was patient with me, slowly growing more receptive to my presence. Before long she seemed to enjoy my company, and became more chatty while we worked out. Jerry wasn't into the workouts much, even though he was the one who needed it most. On occasion he'd join us if his mother badgered him enough, but the last week or so she'd given up on him, accepting that he'd rather park himself in from of his Xbox and play with the new Kinect rather than exercise.
I wasn't complaining, Jill, as his mother insisted I call her, was more open when he was around. The previous week I'd gotten a little more daring and climbed on the exercise bike beside hers, thinking we could have a nice extended talk, instead of the little moments between sets or when helping out. That was a lesson in humility. I might be bigger and stronger, but on the bike she ruled. I thought I had decent stamina, but half-an-hour later I was gasping.
Two days later I was up beside her again, and she gave me a quirky smile. "Back for more punishment?"
It was nice to hear her open the conversation. Initially I seemed to start every conversation. "Here for training. I've learned my lesson, I definitely can't hang with you. Not yet at least."
Her smile was magnificent. "I'll tone it down a bit. I admit it, I was showing off a bit. Yesterday I was sore as hell."
I lasted a little longer, maybe forty minutes before I was completely gassed. She got up and fetched us both waters from the mini-fridge, insisting I keep going, as slowly as I wanted, as long as I didn't stop. The mirrors across the back wall of the room were a Godsend, allowing me to watch her every movement, everywhere she went. I pouted when she left for a moment, then perked up watching her every move when she returned.
I guess I was staring. She walked over to me, put a finger on my cheek and turned my head forward. "Eyes on the monitor. Pedal. Nothing to see over here."
Nothing? Crazy woman.
I somehow stuck it out the last 10 minutes or so, and crawled off the bike, my legs shaking.
"Good job, Alex. That's a hard course."
"Thanks," I groaned, "didn't look too hard for you."
