He couldn’t sleep. He lay beside her in bed, the sheets wrapped over her middle, although more than plenty of her skin was still exposed. She was asleep, her chest bursting from the confines of the covers as it rose and fell with heavy breath. He bit into his lip and watched her: her eyes placidly closed, not a crease in her forehead or brow. Her chocolate curls fell against his pillow and he could not help but extend a hand and gently graze these satin tresses. He knew he should not awaken her, remorse mounting from where he was sprawled haplessly beside her on his back. He was an unfortunate creature beside her form that was curved delicately as she lay on her side. But he would have to awaken her. He needed her again.
“Angela…” he whispered; a mere breath as his pathetic eyes blinked slowly before the goddess in his bed.
She was awakened almost right away, shifting from very light sleep and smiling gently at him.
He reached his hand out and ran his calloused fingers against her pristine skin, the yellow glow causing her tan to appear golden. His eyes teared up at the sudden realization that she was real.
“I—“ he started, finding that the tears overran into the corners of his eyes. His voice came out in a whisper. “Promise… you have to promise that you’ll never leave.”
Angela smiled slightly, exhaling. She shifted slowly, the light hitting her body along every piece of her skin as the sheet fell back. She sat up, facing him as he lay fully on his back to look up at her.
“I… I love you so much…” he whimpered.
Angela passed a knee across his hips, hovering above him with her legs spread on either side. He instinctively cupped her hips in his hands, looking up into her eyes with a pleading, a deep yearning, in his brow. She guided him inside of her and he gasped, raising his hips off the bed to meet her. That was the third time he would have her that night, but even as they began, he knew he would need more.
Angela exhaled sharply, closing her eyes blissfully and arching her back elegantly.
“Angela…” he moaned, feeling the ball of fire sweltering just below his navel on the inside.
This time, with his eyes closed, he could just experience her. He could just feel her velvety insides sucking against him, sucking him into her body. She was sucking him into her womb. He tried to resist it, pulling out of her, trying to ward against the quicksand that was driving him towards insanity. She was eating him alive.
He felt an overwhelming heat that flushed his entire skin a bright pink. He gripped her hips tighter, burrowing his fingers into her skin and feeling that perhaps if he split her open, he could finally be free.
Scott flipped her onto her back in a swift and violent motion that caused her to cry out in surprise. Kneeling above her, he pushed her legs back until her knees were against her shoulders and she was folded in half.
“Oh Scott…” she moaned as his hips began their slight motions against her underside.
His gentle twitching gave way to less merciful thrusts. He screwed his eyes shut, wanting to enclose his hands around her neck as opposed to underneath her knees. He wanted her to be out of her life; he wanted to remove her from the equation because as long as she was in the equation, she would continue her hold on him. She would dictate how he felt: with her nothing could go wrong, but without her, he was spiraling down. He could only be free is she was gone.
Lending her to his waist, he pounded her with force he did not even possess—her moans and heavy breathing becoming whimpers and cries of pain.
But she did not object.
Through gritted teeth, he looked into her face, and how the tears decorated her flushed cheeks. He wanted to kill her. Either that, or make her his slave. If she were his slave, she could never leave him. If she were his slave, he could make her stay with him forever, it would be his only order.
Her fingernails clawed at the back of his hands. She was screaming and he wasn’t listening.
Exhausted she fell back into the pillows as her body suddenly became numb, then she was racked with a limp sensation. “Scott…” she hummed, breathlessly, melting into the bed as she soaked his member as well as the pubic hair around it with her cum.
She was a cat stretching from a nap with her arms above her head and her back arching erotically. He melted at the sight and began to fill her completely, gasping audibly, stroking her leg from her hip to her ankle, drawing it completely over his shoulder.
“Oh my God.” He breathed deeply, panting viciously.
Angela spread her legs to encircle him and sat up, holding him to her and kissing him. He clung to her body, holding her as if his life depended on it.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” he cried into her hair.
“Shhhh…” she comforted him, holding his face against her shoulder. “We’re together now… we’re together…”
He resolved in kissing her scorching skin, along her shoulder, up her neck, along her jaw to her chin, over her lips.
“We’re together now…”
* * *
“What the hell is going on out there?” Clint asked, his voice dissolving into the deep blue darkness of his bedroom.
“I was wondering the same thing.” Timber responded from the other side of a mound of pillows that separated them in his bed.
Fueled by boredom and loneliness, she had accepted Clint’s request for a sleepover that night, under the condition that he staved off any desires to physically assault her, per their usual interaction. For extra insurance, Timber elected to erect the “Chastity Pillow” on the bed between them, comfortably lying supine on the half of the bed that was further inside the room, donning a pair of green and white short shorts and a slinky black tank. Clint, finally leaving his usual half-jocular/half-indicative-of-his-tortured-and-unrequited-affections-for-her advances behind, he made way for them to just relax as friends. However, this abandonment of his usual playfulness only gave him room to realize how much he actually liked her.
Another vocal sound came from the hallway and it became obvious just what was transpiring.
“Oh my God.” Timber stated. “Your house is a menagerie.”
“Dave and Jeanine?” Clint asked.
“I guess.” She shrugged.
“Maybe Bob and Carmen.” Clint suggested.
“Carmen left when you were brushing your teeth.” Timber informed him, the thought alone making her want to grit her teeth.
Clint nodded, even though she couldn’t see it. “Oh, well… they were getting into it in the living room before you came over. I thought maybe Bob was finally going to give it up.” he laughed.
Timber wrinkled her nose in disgust at the thought. “Hey,” she began. “Do you think you’ll know when Bob loses it… like before he tells you? Can you sense that kind of stuff?” she asked on a second thought.
Clint propped himself onto his elbows and looked at her over the pillows. He silently lay his head back down, disappearing to her again.
“Is that a no?” Timber chuckled.
Clint was quiet for a moment before finding his voice and speaking again. “Everyone is getting together.” He commented sullenly.
“Yeah, really.” Timber agreed with a sarcastic tone, having this detail strike a chord within her as well. “We’re like two big fat third wheels.” She joked.
“Yeah. Even Ben and Kelly are fucking.” Clint snorted.
Another moan came drifting on the still air of the night into Clint’s bedroom, over to where the two friends lay side by side on either sides of a wall.
“And apparently they are fucking too.” Timber stated, referring to the anonymous individuals that were making their extra-curricular activities quite known, then suddenly throwing the sheets off her legs and sitting up. “I’m going to find out what room it’s coming from at least.”
She padded to the door on her toes, and Clint propped himself with his elbows behind him so he could at least watch her move across the room. Timber disappeared for a moment into the hallway, and Clint threw his head back, sighing and wondering how the hell he was going to make it through the night as frustrated as he was. He was just about to follow her when she reappeared, shutting the door behind her and finding her way through the dark back to the bed.
“Mystery solved.” She informed him. “Scott has one of his skanks over.”
Clint sneered at this. “What the fuck.”
“Yeah, really. Ewww.” Timber agreed with her distaste palpable in her tone. “It’s one thing to keep that shit to the backseat, it’s a whole other ball game when you’re bringing the hoe home.”
“She’d better be out in the morning. I refuse to share a bathroom with some random hoe Scott picked up at the bar tonight.” Clint clarified, rolling onto his side and willing sleep to arrive.
Timber giggled, her face appearing over the pillows. “I don’t blame you.” She smirked.
Clint raised his face from where it was half obscured in his pillows. “I’m so sick of this Scott bull shit, it’s not even funny.”
“I hear ya.” She agreed, hugging the chastity pillow so she was lying mostly on top of it and invading Clint’s space.
He noticed this and decided to speak. “Hey, are you getting fresh with me Timber?” he asked, an eyebrow raised. “You’re in breach of the Chastity Pillow Contract.” he informed her.
She pulled back. “Oh, sorry.”
He reached out reflexively. “No, I was kidding.” he said quickly, hoping she wouldn’t leave and touching her hand.
She grinned and laid her head back down so she was lying on the pillows.
Clint shifted over onto his back and gazed into her face, or what he could see of it through the darkness. He hesitated for a moment before he asked, “Why haven’t we gotten together?” he asked carefully, staring at her like she was nothing short of amazing.
Timber was oblivious, or perhaps in denial, and snickered, thinking he was joking.
“Ouch.” Clint said softly.
“I was kidding.” she quickly apologized, gently slapping his shoulder. “I mean, I dunno.” She adequately answered. “We’ve always been friends.” She provided.
He was quiet.
“And besides…” she trailed off. “I don’t really see myself with anyone.”
Clint smirked at her. “Why’s that?” he asked.
“I dunno.”
“Haven’t you ever been in love?” he fired back at her.
She paused. Why was he asking her this?
“Have you?” he persisted.
“I’m like fourteen.” She red-heroned him. “I still haven’t seen life.” she laughed.
Clint smirked at her response. Another series of sounds came from the hallway.
“Dad is going to be so pissed tomorrow morning, assuming he doesn’t go break that shit up now!” Clint informed her, shifting onto his side and scooting towards her.
Timber giggled. “Oh Clint…” she sighed.
“What?” he challenged her, reaching up and running his fingers into her hair. He was about to tell her that he wanted to kiss her when there was a soft rapping at the door.
“Clint?”
Bob crept into the room, shutting the door behind him. He stopped short. “Oh… hey Timber…” he started, clearly wondering when she had arrived.
“Hey.” She said softly, pulling herself up into a sitting position.
“You guys hear that shit? Does Scott have one of his whores over again?” Bob asked, sighing deeply as he entered and sat at the foot of the bed.
“Yeah, really, but who brings whores to your house where you live with your three brothers and parents?” Clint pointed out, bowing his arms with his hands behind his head. “That’s kind of lame-ass.” He debunked.
“You gotta love sluts.” Timber snickered. “They don’t give a fuck.”
Bob just shrugged, smacking his brother’s foot to move him over. “Man, I guess that means that he and Angela definitely aren’t going to get back together anytime soon…” he trailed off.
Clint shook his head woefully. “I guess not.”
* * *
“Dave,” Jeanine whispered against the side of his face just as Dawn diluted the inky night sky.
She began to slide out of his bed backwards, placing a little kiss against his cheek. He snorted a snore, turning his face towards her with his disheveled hair and lax expression, opening his eyes just as she was turning around to look for her flip flops.
“I don’t think so.” He grinned, speaking in a gravelly tone. He looped his fingers into the back of her shorts and tugged her back towards him.
She shrieked a giggle. “I have to go home.” She whispered just before he pulled her in and kissed her.
His fingers found the bottom hem of her long sleeved tee-shirt and he started to lift it. Jeanine pulled back for a moment, then succumbed to his groggy cow eyes and raised her arms above her head so he could fully remove her top. She wasn’t wearing a bra and he smiled, not wearing a shirt himself and therefore pleased that the clothing removal process wouldn’t take so long—not to mention the fact that he already had a throbbing erection in his boxer shorts.
Jeanine started to untie the drawstring on her shorts. “We have to hurry though because I have to get home before my mom wakes up for work.” She said quietly, trying to keep her voice down for everyone in the house.
She slipped out of her shorts and he laid back to just silently watch her. She climbed on top of him, yanking at the waistband of his sweat pants. “I’m going to be on top.” She informed him, gripping his hands and pinning them in the pillows over his head as she mounted him.
It was not long before the bed was rocking slightly, the headboard rapping against the wall with each thrust. Dave was worry free with the fact that on the other side of that wall, there was only the linen closet, so he wouldn’t disturb anyone at such an hour. Her hips worked him like magic and her tanned breasts bounced up and down. He panted like dog, purely at her mercy without the use of his hands to inhibit her. As she reached her peak, moaning softly in his ear, she gripped his wrists even harder, soon coming and pressing her lips against his as she did so. She tightened her muscles over him, eliciting his orgasm to follow immediately.
“Oh… Dave…” she sighed, collapsing against his chest.
Dave wrapped his arms around her, kissing her on the forehead.
“I have to go…” she whispered into his chest.
“No… no, no.” Dave insisted, feeling sleepy all over again.
Jeanine giggled, pulling back from him. She slipped off the bed, briefly bending to swipe her tiny yellow sweat-shorts from the carpet. Dave cocked his head slightly to better catch the glimpse of pink he spotted when she bent over. He shifted to the edge of the bed and slapped her firmly on the ass. “I want you to stay.” He pouted. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Jeanine responded, glancing over her shoulder. “Which reminds me…” she trailed off, seeming way too preoccupied to be feeding his neediness right then. She went to her purse—a big black nylon sac— that was sitting on his desk. She took out a pale pink compact and opened it.
Dave sat back, assuming she was doing something with her make up. Shifting back until he was propped up against his pillows, he smoothed back his hair as he watching his penis gradually shrink back into itself and become flaccid.
“Shit.” Jeanine snapped flatly.
“What?” he asked, still watching his penis.
“I completely forgot that I start my placebo birth control pills today.” She said, already popping one out of the blistered container.
“Who’s what with what?” Dave asked, finally giving her his full attention.
“I start my period soon.” She informed him. “And it’s time to get a new prescription.”
“You’re on birth control?” Dave asked, suddenly very interested.
Jeanine raised her brown eyes to meet his matching ones. “Of course.” She responded matter-of-factly. “You think I let you just cum inside me? I’m no trying to have a baby or something!” she giggled.
Dave didn’t seem as amused as she assumed he would have been. “When did you get on birth control?” he asked instead, still sprawled across the bed naked.
She thought for a moment, drawing a hand back absently to ruffle her tossed hair. “Since the beginning of this year I guess.” She replied. “I used to get really bad cramps, and they help regulate my period and stuff.” She explained.
Dave still didn’t seem to be in such a jovial mood.
“Why… is that a problem?” Jeanine asked him, not able to help the challenging tone in her voice.
Dave shrugged, sitting up and starting to put his sweat pants back on. “No… I just…am a little surprised, that’s all.” He admitted.
Jeanine rolled her eyes at the ways and means of the male ego. “It’s a good thing… trust me.” She informed him. “That way we can have sex as much as we want.”
At this, his spirits lifted considerably. “Well, don’t you have to take one?” he asked her enthusiastically.
Jeanine laughed. “No. I start my period in a few days. I have a week of nothing-pills—the placebos, the sugar pills. I usually don’t bother to take those anyways.” She explained. “I just have to be sure to get another prescription this week sometime.” She said, making a mental note. “But I have to go home now.” She continued, finally resolving in pulling on her long sleeved tee-shirt, having her nipples poke against the thin fabric.
Dave started to get up from the bed. “Here, help me.” he requested, extending his hands, palms up, for her assistance.
She took his offering, gripping his hands, and he tugged her roughly back onto the bed, kissing her neck. “If you start your period soon… shouldn’t we try to have all the sex we can before it comes?” he asked lowly into her hair.
Jeanine swatted at his hand that was creeping down towards her butt to grip a round cheeks. “I guess you’re right…” she agreed, closing her mouth over his.
* * *
Scott stepped out of the shower and the bathroom was filled with a thick steam that left condensation on each and every one of the fixtures. He snatched a towel off the rack, wrapping it around his waist before grabbing another towel and holding it out as Angela stepped into it from the shower. She smiled up at him with her big brown eyes, and as he wrapped the towel around her torso, he leaned in to kiss her. They had had sex for the seventh time just moments before in the shower, and his skin was still tingling, on fire, although he was still not sated. He didn’t know when he would be satisfied that he had taken her enough times.
“Mmmmm…” he hummed as their lips disengaged. “Let’s sneak back to my room.”
Angela nodded in agreement, pulling him in for one last kiss before allowing him to open the door and lead her into the hallway. He quickly checked both ways before crossing the hall and scurrying back into his bedroom. Just as they shut the door behind them, their giggles still ringing, the door to Clint’s bedroom opened.
Timber poked her head out into the hallway before slipping back into the bedroom. “The girl is still here! They just got out of the shower and went back to his room.”
Bob had been lying in the middle of Clint’s bed next to his identical brother, but sat up as his best friend returned. “Did you see her?” he asked.
Although Clint’s eyes were closed as if her were sleeping, he was very much awake. “Why is she still here anyway. It’s not like Scott to actually want the girl to even spend the night.”
“Yeah,” Bob agreed. “He never even lets the bitch know where he lives, let alone come visit.”
“Maybe they’re dating.” Timber said hopefully, shrugging and approaching the bed again. “I mean, maybe he’s trying to date this girl.”
“No.” Clint declined flatly. “Not this soon after Angela.”
“Why don’t we just go knock and find out who the hoebag is?” Timber suggested, already getting up from the bed after she had just sat down.
Bob caught her arm just in time and yanked her back into her seat. “No biatch.” He informed her. “That would be really weird.”
Timber’s deep dark eyes shifted from left to right. “Well…” she trailed off. “Why the hell not?” she asked. “It’s a little weird to bring a skank home. We can call it even.” she informed him.
Clint snickered to himself, trying to obscure his jovialities from his twin brother.
Bob cogitated about his best friend’s statements. After a moment of pondering, his hand still gripping her arm, he released it and shrugged. “Okay. Let’s go see this hoe-bag.”
“Yes!’ Timber celebrated, hopping up and rushing to the door with her two identical friends clamoring at her heels.
The three mischievous ones sneaked into the hallway, Timber motioning at them to stay silent. She rose onto her toes and led the way to the end of the hall where the faint voices coming from Scott’s bedroom became louder. Unfortunately, they were still indecipherable.
“Can you hear anything?” Clint asked from where he stood right behind Bob.
Timber slowly pressed her ear against the door. She pulled back and shook her head.
Before Bob could articulate the next question, the door flew open and Timber fell through it, Bob falling on top of her, and Clint barely able to keep his balance and landing with his knee on his identical brother’s back.
Scott looked down, confused, into three pairs of brown eyes that blinked innocently.
“Angela?!” Timber exclaimed in blatant shock, seeing her curly haired friend sitting at the foot of Scott’s bed in the same outfit she had worth the night before. “You’re the skank?” she asked, incredulous.
Scott’s brow furrowed in annoyance. “Hey!” he warned.
Timber struggled to her feet. “Oh, not skank… I mean… we heard…” she just resolved in shaking her head.
Angela got up off the bed, reveling in the awkwardness of the moment.
Clint and Bob stood in the doorway, mouths agape. “Are…” Bob began, attempting to choose his words carefully while still dumfounded. “…are you guys back together?” he asked.
Scott couldn’t suppress his smile. “Mind your own business.” He ordered his brothers and best friend. “All three of you.” he warned, starting to push them out of his bedroom.
“Wait!” Timber pleaded. “What happened?!” she demanded to know as Scott turned her around by the shoulders and pushed her back through the door.
“Goodbye Timber.” He smiled with pseudo-pleasantry.
He shut the door in her face, leaving the identical brothers and Timber in the hallway by themselves.
* * *
“Wow!” Timber exclaimed, finding it safe to yell once she was in the safety of the kitchen with Bob and Clint. “What the fuck… When the fuck… Where the fuck… Why the fuck… and How the fuck did that happen?” she demanded, eyes wide with interest in the gossip that was transpiring before them.
Bob shrugged as he splayed open the refrigerator doors, searching for something to eat for breakfast. He looked up at the clock on the microwave that hung over the stove, noticing that it was well before noon.
“I have no idea.” Clint shrugged, sliding onto a stool around the island counter.
Timber slipped onto the stool beside him, overwhelmed with it all. “Wow!” she exclaimed. “I’m so excited.” She continued.
“Oh, the joy we get from other people’s relationships…” Bob muttered into the shelf that contained left over spaghetti from the night before.
Timber glared at him before resolving in a smile and shrugging abask.
Clint looked up from his reverie, not really paying attention to the conversing around him. “Don’t you have the pageant in like a little while? He asked. “Have you found all your outfits?”
Timber shrugged, then eyed him suspiciously. “Clint.” She stated firmly. “Is this your way of finding an excuse to go shop?” she smirked.
He simpered, reaching out and touching her arm. “Maybe.” he said sincerely.
Timber cracked a smile. “Well…” she trailed off. “Let’s go then! Shit!” she bounced in her chair excitedly.
Clint smiled, mostly in reaction to her smile. “I can be ready in thirty minutes.” he informed her.
Bob watched this exchange, half looking over his shoulder from the refrigerator. He frowned. “Can I go shopping with you guys?” he asked.
Timber and Clint immediately stopped in their festivities, looking to him as if they hadn’t even known he had been listening. They then looked at each other.
“Well… um…” Clint stammered, slightly annoyed that his brother was unknowingly cutting in to his time alone with the girl he liked.
Timber just smiled. “I thought you couldn’t stand shopping with Clint and I.” she goaded.
Bob shrugged. “I’m conducting an experience where I’m trying to break into the psyche of the legally insane.” he cracked.
“Watch it.” Timber warned, playfully glaring.
She reached her arms back behind her head and yanked the elastic out of her hair with much difficultly, holding in a ponytail with her fingers then attempting to retie it with the red, rubber-band like hair tie. Clint’s eyes swept her down from her long, wiry arms, to the tank top that rode up at the waist, showing a section of her stomach. And of course, he couldn’t help but notice her chest; her nubs of breast standing out against the very thin cotton of her tank.
She caught him staring, and gave him a suspicious look.
Trying to save face, Clint reached out the delicately pressed his index finger into the skin right below her navel, just barely exposed by the riding up of her tank. “You know…” he trailed off, pretending Bob wasn’t even in the room. “You’d look hot with a little barbell right through here.” He informed her, raising his eyes from her navel to her slightly perplexed stare.
Timber giggled beside herself, the attention she was receiving making her very nervous. Suddenly, the idea of Bob and all that was associated with him seemed like a dark cloud hanging over a sky that had the potential to be beautiful. Clint had been there all along. Maybe she could end up liking Clint—or even falling in love with him.
“So when are we going?” Bob asked, once again standing with the refrigerator doors open.
* * *
The door to Scott’s bedroom finally opened again around noon, as he and Angela decided to take their relationship into broad daylight. Hands mended together without the threat of ever parting, they somewhat crept down the hallway as if hiding from the people in the house. Yet, true to form, just as they assumed they were home free and down the hallway, Dave and Jeanine decided to make their grand exit from the confines of Dave’s bedroom.
The two couples, the four individuals, that had gone to great lengths to hurt each other in the past weeks found themselves in quite the imbroglio, a veritable stare-down. The initial shock to the latter couple over seeing the former together, holding hands as they obviously came from Scott’s bedroom, was enough to leave both of their mouths lying open.
“Uh… hi…” Dave stuttered, not even bothering to keep a neutral face. “What—what’s going on—I mean… what’s up?” he quickly corrected himself.
Scott, in an equally as awkward position, shrugged. “I dunno…” he trailed off, although his response was obvious.
Angela and Jeanine were just as defensive in response to one another, Angela definitely keeping the fact that the other girl had slept with her boyfriend in mind. Although not an apparent love loss between the two, she did not smile, gazing on at Jeanine sullenly and recalling all the hurt that had been associated with both Dave and Jeanine.
Jeanine stared at Angela with quite the same expression, knowing that she, Helen of Troy, had caused all of the mess that the entire group was in the process of sorting out.
“Wait… are you guys… back together?” Jen asked, not bothering to pay mind to euphemism.
Scott and Angela exchanged a look and he discretely squeezed her hand. Looking back at their adversaries, they both nodded, not able to contain their smiles.
Jeanine sputtered a laugh, glancing at Dave in order to gauge his reaction. “Wow…” she hummed, obviously still taking a moment to digest this information.
“Yeah,” Dave quickly agreed. “That’s really cool… I’m happy for you guys.” He stated, although what this meant went far beyond the two that were standing in front of them.
A silent, very awkward moment passed.
Scott and Angela glance sideways at one another, mutually wondering if they were ready to face the scrutiny that they would inevitably encumber.
“Hey!” Dave began without bothering to think through what he was about to say. “We should all get together tonight… Like… a double date or something.” He suggested.
Scott glared at his brother with a skeptical expression on his face, wondering why he was not just leaving well enough alone.
“That sounds like a… good idea…” Angela accepted his offer, having mercy on his feeble attempt.
Jeanine made a face, not bothering to show maturity.
“Why don’t we go to dinner tonight?” Dave continued, realizing he was already in over his head. “Say... like… seven? We’ll all meet here then go together?” he was speaking mainly to Angela.
“Sounds like an excellent idea Dave.” Angela smiled pleasantly.
Scott looked from his girlfriend to his brother and worry momentarily flashed across his features. He gripped Angela’s hand tighter, pulling her closer to him.
“Okay… so we’ll see you guys tonight?” Dave announced merrily, sliding his arm around Jeanine’s shoulders as they turned to depart.
Scott and Jeanine locked eyes for a moment as she passed by, turning and going with Dave. Dave slipped his hand along her spine to the small of her back, finding his way lower and squeezing her butt as they reached the top of the stairs.
“Ahh! Dave!” Jeanine giggled, playfully pushing him away as they started down the steps.
Dave tangled his fingers up in her long wavy hair, chuckling lightly to himself.
Angela and Scott watched for a moment, turning towards each other, both realizing that what had just transpired was very detrimental to their currently volatile relationship.
“That was weird.” He came out and admitted, dipping his face down to kiss her lightly on the lips.
Angela nodded momentarily before closing her eyes and succumbing to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him to her.
It took no words for the two of them to decide that they would indeed not go anywhere. As they kissed, he secured his hands on her waist, guiding her backwards through their lip-lock towards his bedroom.
* * *
Clint found himself staring back at his own house, allowing the bright sun to heat his skin to a golden brown. The sky was a bright blue without even the suggestion of a cloud, and he felt like a million dollars. Donning a pair of aviator sunglasses in addition to stone-washed jeans and a black tee with a white polo horseman on the left breast, he stood on the porch of the Moore’s house and waited for Timber to answer the door.
The door opened with great production behind him and he turned around excitedly, only to see Chandler looming in the doorway.
“Hi, how’s it going.” Chandler greeted diplomatically.
Clint smiled awkwardly. “Hey.” he greeted, waving slightly. “Is… Timber around?” he asked anxiously, wandering why he was suddenly so nervous.
“Yeah, she’s in her room.” Chandler replied, opening the door wider and allowing Clint to enter the cool foyer.
The Moore house was always especially cold.
Chandler did not allow Clint to climb the stairs, creating somewhat of a physical barrier as he stood in the way and instead called his sister’s name towards the top of the stairs.
“I’m coming!” Timber called back.
Chandler turned to Clint and eyed him up and down. Clint became flustered, removing his sunglasses.
“We’re not going on a date or anything.” he explained. “She’s just my favorite shopping partner.” he continued. “I mean, she’s like a sister… I’m not trying to get in her pants or anything.”
Chandler visibly abhorred. “What?” he asked, amazed that the teenager who stood before him was still talking.
Clint’s golden brown eyes went wide. “No, I’m not trying to get in her pants!” he insisted. “We’re just friends… I mean, in case you were wondering why I was here.”
Chandler continued to glare at the caller who was clearly anxious standing before him.
“I mean, I really, really, really like her… but we’re just buddies. We go shopping and that’s it. I’m not doing it with your sister or anything.” he clarified, chuckling lightly.
“My sister better not be doing it with anyone.” Chandler clarified.
Clint nodded. “And she’s not!” he stated firmly. “She’s the picture of chastity and virtue and we all respect that. I mean, she, me, and Bob are the only virgins left in our group! So imagine, with all that pressure to have sex, how virtuous your little sister must be, right? Not that there is pressure for her to have sex. I mean, no one is trying to force her to do anything. If anyone is applying pressure, it’s me! And I’m not applying pressure at all! I respect her one hundred and—like seven hundred percent! But, I mean, she is a very beautiful girl and she’s an awesome person… so you can’t blame me for being even a little interested… I’d be a fool not to notice her beauty. She’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my life.” he whispered, blushing deeply and realizing that it was certainly time for him to stop talking.
Chandler glowered at him steadily. “Clearly, stay the hell away from my sister.” he informed him, shaking his head slightly in disgust.
“No!” Clint started to object, not wanting the older guy in front of him to get the wrong impression. “I’m not like… crazy or anything!” he assured Chandler. “We’re just friends, and—“
“Clint, are you babbling?” Timber teased, standing at the top of the steps having just emerged from her bedroom.
Chandler passed Clint a warning look as the boy gazed up the steps in amazement. He shook his head just slightly before exiting towards the back of the house. Timber was wearing a very short and tattered, ruffled silver-satin skirt with a black Polo Ralph Lauren tee on top—incidentally the same one as Clint.
“You skank!” the girl suddenly shouted. “You’re wearing my shirt!” she accused.
Clint looked down to realize that he was indeed wearing the same shirt as her, albeit in a larger size. “F you; I put mine on first.” he shot back.
Timber sighed loudly. “Now I have to go change.” she muttered. “Come on.” She waved him after her as she started up the steps.
Clint couldn’t help but notice the fact that he could see up the back of her skirt and from where he stood he could see that she was wearing lime green colored underwear.
“No… I shouldn’t.” he declined, calling from the foyer. “I don’t want your brother to kill me.”
Timber peeked out into the hallway from her bedroom, her straight hair swinging against her cheek. “Oh come on.” she rolled her eyes.
Clint hesitated; looking around to make sure Chandler was not watching him from a nearby hiding place. He took off up the steps, slipping into his friend’s bedroom in record time.
“Where’s Bob?” Timber asked, already beginning to sift through her closet.
“He’s coming.” Clint replied, sitting down at the foot of her bed. “You got a new chair.” he stated.
He noticed right away that her inflatable furniture had been replaced by a black leather cube chair.
“Yeah.” she responded, rolling her eyes dramatically. “My parents are on this Le Corbusier kick. They like… raided the showcasing at the museum the other week.” she rolled her eyes again. “I hated this outfit anyways. There was something that didn’t quite fit.” she informed him, placing a finger to her chin in thought.
Clint chuckled. “Don’t you hate that?” he asked, completely understanding where she was coming from.
She stripped off her top, her back turned to him. Her back was completely bare and Clint looked away politely, realizing that she most certainly was topless. He sucked in a deep breath, trying not to look, but secretly wishing she would turn around and approach him…
The doorbell rang downstairs.
“Oh shit… that’s probably Bob.” Timber muttered, hurriedly tugging a navy blue polo shirt with a red embroidered horseman over her head. She dug in her drawer for a moment, finally coming up with a pair of short, red, cotton jogging shorts with white piping. She then crammed her feet into her prized new rainboots, smiling triumphantly and sweeping her hair over her shoulder.
“Your hair looks nice.” Clint cared to mention, noticing that it appeared very sleek and straight. It was normally rather unruly, but at that moment looked very neat, swept back from her face with a bobby pin on either side.
“Thanks!” she informed him, running her fingers through it. “I decided to blow dry and straighten… the whole nine yards.” She smiled. “I mean,” she rose to her full height after tugging on her boot. “I didn’t even know I had a straightener… but I thought it might be good to revamp my look for a while.” she shrugged.
“I totally know what you mean.” Clint nodded avidly. “I’m just so bored with life right now.” he began.
“Well you know what that means.” Timber informed him, stuffing a few items in her purse.
Clint watched her carefully, noticing that her shorts were ridiculously short. “What does that mean?” he asked.
“It means that we need to have a party to night!” she giggled, unfolding her collar so it stood up, just how she liked it.
“Who’s having a party?” Bob asked, pushing open the door to his best friend’s bedroom and entering in a pair of khaki cargo shorts and a fitted black tee.
Timber looked up. “Hey!” she exclaimed, happy to see him as always.
Her smile, however, dissolved significantly when Carmen entered behind him in a sky blue tank top and a pair of brown shorts. “Hey Tim!” she smiled excitedly.
Timber’s smile visibly dissolved. “Hey.” she said carefully.
Carmen loomed in the doorway, smiling pleasantly. “Are we ready to shop or what?” she giggled. “I haven’t been shopping with you and Clint before. Bob said he needed me for moral support, but I don’t know if I can even make it!”
Timber discreetly rolled her eyes as she stuffed her compact in her purse. “I don’t get why everyone acts like we’re freaks or something.” She stated.
Bob laughed, moving from the doorway as if he was going to go sit down next to his identical brother, but struggling to sit on his lap instead.
“Hey!” Clint exclaimed shrilly. “Get off cunt bucket!” he shouted.
Bob continued to struggle on top of his brother until Clint sunk his teeth deep into his twin’s arm.
“Ow! Mother Fucker!” Bob shouted, slumping off the bed and landing on his ass on the carpet.
“Bam!!! Bitch went down!” Clint cried in triumph.
Timber guffawed, hand going to her middle as her gaunt frame curved forward in an awkward hunch. “You guys are crazy!” she shouted.
Bob looked up, hair in his eyes, and studied her for a moment as if first noticing her presence. “Who wears short shorts?” he asked, commenting on the tiny track shorts that barely cleared the bottom of her ass.
“Timber wears short shorts!” she provided, doing jazz hands as if to showcase her attire with a broad smile.
“SO.” Clint stated definitively. “Let’s get this shopping thing underway.” he changed the subject, wanting to hoard Timber’s attention for himself.
Timber dropped her blot powder compact into her handbag and zipped it up, perking up in her posture. “Okay.” she stated plainly. “Ready.”
Carmen stood up straight from where she was leaning against the doorjamb. “Okay. Let’s go. I want to see you guys in your element.” she added, referring to Timber and Clint.
Timber shrugged, last to exit her bedroom and following behind her friends as they bounded down the steps in a line. Bob deliberately stopped at the bottom, causing Clint and subsequently Timber to run into one another.
“Hey!” Clint exclaimed. “You doucher!”
“Got you back you knob gobbling road whore.” Bob spat back, still blocking the bottom of the stairway.
“Why do you have to bring Carmen into this?” Timber quipped, not able to resist the temptation.
“Hey!” Carmen exclaimed, standing by herself in the foyer, while the other three laughed heartily at the joke made at her expense.
“Bob! You blow! Get out of the way!” Timber ordered him, attempting to push Clint and subsequently push his identical brother.
“Move it whorebag.” Clint snapped.
“Make me you skank hungry poon trap.” Bob fired back.
“Go douche yourself skank.” Timber shouted forth, starting to laugh as she attempted to mount Clint.
“Eat me suck-master.”
“Lick it and stick it, jerk-ass skank master.”
“Down and rotate!” Timber ordered.
Carmen sighed deeply. “Are you guys going to come on your what.”
“Suck it skank.” “Eat me skank.” “Finger yourself skank.” The three chorused simultaneously.
* * *