Cast Adrift

*Author’s Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.

*.*.*

Graduating from JFK High School was a somewhat unusual occurrence; most students of Penny Parish tended to drop out, become guests of the state penal system, or simply live off of the welfare system. Graduating without visible tattoos or body piercings was also an oddity. Graduating from JFK High School carrying a 5.0 GPA was unheard of.

“Helps if your daddy is the almighty Reverend Roland Truesdale,” Lowell Truesdale thought as his step-mother, Lilah Truesdale fussed over him.

With a jammy, wet kiss to Lowell’s lips, Lilah turned her attention to another student. Becky Wright sidled up to Lowell, thrusting her 32C breasts against him.

“Hey, you going to Amber’s party after?” Becky whispered, making sure that Lowell’s step-mother was out of earshot.

“Uh, yeah, as if,” Lowell scoffed. “Uh, who’s my dad? You know there’s no way I can get away for that.”

“Too bad,” Becky said, thrusting her breasts more firmly against him. “Bet we’d have bunch of fun.”

“Don’t worry, Becky,” Lowell thought as the recorded music climbed in volume. “You’ll get plenty of chances get yourself knocked up.”

“Just won’t be by me,” Lowell thought as the sixteen students, the sixteen graduates of 2017 lined up to march onto the stage.

Students, faculty and guests sat through a long-winded and pretentious speech by Principal John Paul Thompson. The effeminate man seemed to believe that all had come to hear his opinion of the deplorable education system of Louisiana and his beliefs of what needed to be done in order to improve the current system. Finally, the man ended his litany of complaints and introduced Lowell Albert Truesdale, the valedictorian of 2017.

Lowell did not have any cue cards, or pages. He had memorized his four minute speech. He wanted his speech to flow with a natural cadence.

“Much as a ship needs a good, sturdy keel we have been given a good, sturdy keel by the faculty and staff of John F. Kennedy High School. Our home life, parents, siblings, neighbors have provided each of us with a tiller by which we steer our course with,” Lowell raised his voice in passion. “Class of two thousand seventeen? Let our dreams be the wind that fills our sails and propels us into our future. Our keel will keep us upright, our tiller will steer us true, and our dreams will fill our sails.”

“That’s how you give a speech, jerk-off,” Lowell thought as he sat to a round of enthusiastic applause.

“See, boy?” Roland said as everyone gathered together after the ceremony. “That? That’s why I think you’d be an excellent minister, a man of God.”

“You would do so well at Atwell,” Lilah agreed.

“I know, I know,” Lowell sighed. “But like I’ve told both of you; I just do not feel the calling. I’d be a total fraud standing in front of a church.”

“Not that it ever stopped you,” Lowell thought as his father accepted the congratulations another parent offered to Lowell.

Lowell did not go to Amber Duhon’s party. Instead, he and Roland and Lilah and Lowell’s two sisters, Mindy and Gail went to Dairy Queen to celebrate. Lowell made seven year old Gail giggle and sixteen year old Mindy roll her eyes as he sat, mortarboard on his head as they ate. Again, as others came up to congratulate Lowell, it was Roland that jumped in to accept the accolades.

Over the next two months, Lowell did manage occasionally to escape the ever-vigilant eye of Reverend Roland Truesdale and meet up with Becky Wright and Amber Duhon down at the Bend. On the stretch of sand along the tiny tributary of the Mississippi River, Lowell did manage to technically lose his virginity. He used Amber’s mouth and Becky’s mouth very willingly and enthusiastically. He also learned how to use his mouth and fingers on Amber’s pussy and Becky’s pussy. By the time August 6th rolled around, Becky said Lowell was almost as good as Amber when it came to eating pussy. Amber said Lowell was better at eating pussy than Becky; Lowell didn’t need to be drunk in order to muff dive.

On August 6th, the Truesdale clan stood on the clam shell parking lot of the Double J Diner and waited for the Greyhound bus that would take Lowell to Myndee University. Roland was in a foul mood; it truly irked him that Greyhound would stop in front of such a hedonistic, deplorable site as the Double J Diner. True, Greyhound had started using the diner decades earlier, when the diner had been the Stepping Stone Diner. Back then, the diner had been owned by Heloise Decker.

Now, the diner was owned by the great granddaughter of Heloise. The girl was openly living in a same sex relationship, claimed that she and another young woman were married.

“God says, the Bible says a marriage is between a man and a woman,” Roland snapped, back squarely turned away from the den of iniquity.

Most egregious, in Roland’s eyes, was not that the two women were living in an openly homosexual relationship, or that both had somehow become impregnated, nor their scandalous manner of dress, purposefully displaying their flesh in such provocative manner. No, most egregious was that neither woman ever donated any time or service or money to his church.

“Satan shall welcome you both with open arms,” Roland thought darkly as the early morning heat and humidity enveloped the Truesdale family.

The arrival of the large Greyhound bus made Gail and Lilah break into sobs. Both hugged Lowell tightly. Mindy gave Lowell a smirk and hugged him tightly, grinding her lush figure against him. She made him jerk when she licked his lips.

“Bye boy,” a dry-eyed Roland said, giving Lowell a firm handshake.

“See you at Thanksgiving,” Roland called out as he herded the three Truesdale women to his sedan.

Twelve stops, eight hours later, the bus ground to a halt in Lowenburg, Arkansas. Lowell went into the convenience store, microwaved himself a bean burrito and grabbed two bottles of apple juice. Then he gave in to his one vice and grabbed a king sized Reese’s peanut butter cup.

Ninety minutes later, a second Greyhound bus pulled to a stop in front of the convenience store. The five passengers wearily stepped up, the late afternoon still unbearably hot. Lowell politely took his place at the rear of the line and waited.

Waiting was no hardship, though. Directly in front of him was an attractive blonde that wore a tank top and khaki shorts. The shorts were very short indeed, giving tantalizing glimpses of the young woman’s sweetly rounded buttocks. As if to give Lowell a better view, the woman pulled her long blonde hair up off of her neck.

“My Gawd, it is so fucking hot out here, come on!” the girl complained as they waited on the bus driver to open the door of the bus.

Again, she hefted her honey blonde hair and fanned her sweating neck with her free hand. Lowell reached up and touched his freshly shorn head. Roland had dragged Lowell down to Putnam’s on August 5th and ordered a severe buzz cut for his son. The hair cut was simply Roland Truesdale once again flexing his parental muscles, proving to Lowell that he, Roland Truesdale was in charge, was in control.

Finally, the bus driver did open the door. Three passengers climbed down and wearily walked to the convenience store. The bus driver stepped off and waited for the boarding passengers.

“Afternoon,” the man politely greeted each new passenger.

An old woman did not return the man’s greeting; instead she let the man know she was not pleased that she’d had to wait so long before being allowed to board. The young blonde simply grunted a response before clambering onto the bus.

“Afternoon,” Lowell agreed, nodding politely to the driver.

The interior of the bus was dark and cool. Lowell did not see where the young blonde had gone to; the backs of the seats blocked easy viewing. He found an unoccupied bench and took the seat next to the window. The passengers waited while the driver enjoyed a few cigarettes and a cup of convenience store coffee.

As the bus rumbled west, Lowell reached into his backpack and pulled out his new Bible. His father had asked Lilah why she’d given Lowell a new Bible; Lowell already had a perfectly good, serviceable Bible.

Scattered throughout the new Bible, Lilah had secreted a ten dollar bill here, a five dollar bill there. Altogether, the bills totaled two hundred dollars. Lowell wondered how Lilah had managed that feat; his father ruled the finances of the Truesdale home with an iron fist.

“Was that why Mom left your sanctimonious ass?” Lowell asked out loud.

The words of the good book were no longer visible. Lowell had a hazy recollection of a beautiful blonde woman that had been hugs and kisses and soft words. His mother had been a buffer, a cushion between Roland Truesdale and his older brothers RJ and Kyle and himself and his two sisters Kylie and Mindy.

With a sigh, Lowell put the bible into his backpack. There had been hushed, angry words. Words such as such as ‘judgement’ and ‘atonement’ and ‘wages of sin’ uttered.

Lowell did not see the bountiful greenery that paraded past his bus window. He remembered his mother, looking pale and drawn, coming into his room, kissing him softly and whispering that she loved him, she would always love him.

“Love you too Mom,” Lowell said as the vibrant colors flew past his window.

When asked where Trudy had gone to, Roland offered only vague answers. Just before Lowell was to start kindergarten, Roland Truesdale, Junior returned from Afghanistan in a pine box. Shortly after they buried the fallen hero, they suddenly moved from Ten Bear Lake, Minnesota to Stepping Stone, Louisiana. One small town, one trailer park pretty much looks like any other small town, small trailer park.

Volunteers of the church tried to ingratiate themselves into the Truesdale household, tried to take Trudy’s place. Lowell and Kyle and Kylie knew better than to act ungrateful or discourteous to the heavy-set, heavily rouged women. But they were not very warm or welcoming either.

Shortly before a very pregnant Lilah Quentin became Lilah Truesdale, Kyle and Kylie suddenly disappeared from their home. Roland was very tight-lipped about the incident or incidents that led up to the removal of the twins from their household.

There were no pictures of Kyle and Kylie. Their trophies were no longer on the cabinet in the living room. Their clothes and their books were no longer in the Truesdale trailer. One day, Kyle and Lowell hand shared a bedroom, Kylie and Mindy had shared the other bedroom. The next day, Lowell had his own room and Mindy had her own room.

Lowell thought about the two checks he had in his wallet; graduation gifts from Kyle and Kylie. Kyle and Kylie knew anything they sent to the trailer would be intercepted by Roland, and discarded unopened. So they had sent the two cards to Mrs. Begnell, the next door neighbor. The kindly old woman made sure to hand deliver the cards to Lowell after Roland had left for another day of work.

Kylie Eagan had written beautiful words of encouragement and pride and had included a one thousand dollar check. Kyle Truesdale had included a check for one thousand and one dollars with his card. The friendly, teasing sibling rivalry between the twins made Lowell smile. Also included with the checks were photographs of Lowell’s three nieces and one nephew.

“Hope and Faith Eagan, Christian and Grace Truesdale. Those the kind of names sinful deviants give to their kids?” Lowell asked, looking at the four small photos.

It was early morning when the bus ground to a halt in front of the Home Comfort Inn in Mynbdee, Arkansas. Lowell sluggishly donned his backpack and made his way to the front of the bus. He and the bus driver hefted Lowell’s footlocker from the luggage compartment. Then Lowell helped the bus driver with the attractive blonde’s two battered suitcases. The blonde did not bother to thank driver or Lowell as she wrestled the two heavy pieces into the lobby of the small motel.

A pleasant woman told Lowell and the blonde that the first shuttle to the university would be along in about an hour. The attached diner was open, though.

“You want a cup of coffee?” Lowell asked the attractive blonde.

“No thanks,” she spat and flounced over to a vinyl couch against a wall.

Lowell winced as he watched the girl plop down on the cheap couch. He knew, when she went to pull her sweaty skin from that couch, it would not be pleasant.

Two hours later, a tired looking young man entered the lobby. The clerk pointed to the slumbering girl. Lowell came out of the diner, lugging his footlocker.

Again, Lowell assisted with the heavy suitcases and again, the girl offered no thanks to either Lowell or the shuttle driver. Lowell did smirk at the sight of her reddened thighs and backside as she flounced onto the bus ahead of him.

Two and a half hours later, finally ensconced in his dorm room, Lowell sighed and pulled the new cell phone from his pocket. With a grimace, he hit the number 1 and waited.

“Reverend Truesdale,” Roland barked.

“I’m here,” Lowell tiredly said.

“Hmm? Took that long?” Roland asked. “Hmm. Maybe next time might let your mother and I drive you?”

“Oh? You know where my mother is?” Lowell asked.

“You watch that mouth, boy,” Roland ordered. “Don’t think for one minute…”

”

What the fuck you going do about it, Father?” Lowell was tempted to ask. “I’m here on a full academic scholarship. You paid for nothing.”

“Tell Mindy and Gail I love them,” Lowell interrupted his father’s threats and disconnected the call.

He turned the phone off and stretched out on the unmade bed. He slept through lunch and supper and would have slept through breakfast had others in the dormitory hall not been screaming and laughing.

After Freshman Orientation, Lowell found a First National Bank of Arkansas and opened an account. He deposited the two checks from Kylie and Kyle and the cashier’s check from his Penny Parish Savings & Loan account.

Turning his cell phone on, Lowell saw he had seven calls. Four were blustering orders from Roland, two were from Lilah pleading with Lowell to make peace with his father. One was from Mindy, congratulating Lowell on pissing their father off.

A Mailboxes, Etc. helped Lowell box up the cell phone and charger. The pimple faced girl flirted clumsily with Lowell and he made her swoon when he smiled at her.

“Want insure it?” she asked as she weighed the package.

“No. Got your car here? Could you run over it a couple of times?” Lowell asked and she giggled and simpered.

Lowell addressed the phone to Roland’s church. That way, Roland would get the message, loud and clear. The threats would no longer work. If Roland had no way to get in touch with his son, he could not control his son.

Roger Terje, Lowell’s roommate, was a scrawny young man from Benhurst, Colorado. Like Lowell, Roger had graduated with a 5.0 GPA and was attending Myndee University on a full academic scholarship. Unlike Lowell, though, Roger desperately missed his mom and dad.

Lowell had tested out of many freshman level classes. His declared major was Business Administration, but his first semester, he took twelve hours of the required courses. His only BA Elective was Statistical Analysis 115.

“When I call your name, please say ‘here’ and if there are any nicknames you’d prefer we address you by, please indicate that nickname,” Professor Jolet called out.

Like his fellow students, Lowell looked around when a name was called out. He learned that the attractive red head’s name was Amy Dooley. The squat, morbidly obese greasy haired young man was named Henry Evans and his friend, a young man with unkempt blond hair and scruffy facial hair was named Ezekiel Heard, but preferred to be called Zeke.

“Trueblue, Passion,” Professor Jolet called out.

“Here,” and attractive blonde chirped, hand raised.

The blonde’s top showed an impressive chest and her short skirt showed off tanned legs that ended in dainty feet in high heeled sandals.

Lowell tore his eyes from her physique and prepared to say ‘here’ and raise his hand. Surely Truesdale, Lowell would follow Trueblue, Passion.

“Truehart, Katherine,” Professor Jolet called out.

“Here, but everybody calls me Kitty,” an attractive blonde said, hand raised.

“So noted, Kitty Truehart,” Professor Jolet nodded. “Truesdale, Lowell.”

“Here, sir,” Lowell said.

Kitty Truehart was the blonde woman that had stood in front of Lowell at the convenience store, had taken Greyhound from Lowenburg to Myndee, and had shared the shuttle with Lowell from Home Comfort Inn to campus. Apparently, though, Lowell had made no impression on the attractive woman; she looked pointedly away when Lowell gave her a friendly little nod.

By Homecoming Week, Lowell was fitting in quite nicely to college life. He’d had a few dates, usually Benito’s Pizza and bowling, or Wedges Sandwiches and a movie. He’d even lost the last vestige of virginity when he rolled a condom on his erection and fucked Amy Dooley. Amy had been a loud, enthusiastic lover, and had really appreciated that Lowell knew how to eat pussy.

But when Lowell asked for a second date, the red headed beauty was always busy. An upper classman clued Lowell in; Amy rarely gave second dates. She believed life was too short to settle for any one guy, settle for any one cock.

Roger Terje, however, was not fitting into college life. By the time the Myndee Blue Jays trounced the Connelly Cougars in their Homecoming game, Roger had stopped going to classes. He had stopped showering or brushing his teeth. The only time Roger left the dorm room was to go downstairs to the common area to raid the vending machines for candy bars and sodas.

Lowell reported his concerns to Parker Trenton, the fourth floor student monitor. Parker’s response was a disinterested shrug.

“Truesdale, your boy’s an adult,” Parker sneered. “That’s what he wants to do? That’s what he wants to do.”

Lowell then reported his concerns to Dean Vincent Ludner, as well as Parker’s response to Lowell’s concerns. Parker was relieved of his position and Roger was removed from campus, to begin much needed therapy.

“One way to get your own room, Truesdale,” a fellow fourth floor resident joked. “Hey, Bobby, might report you; you looking mighty depressed there.”

“Hey, depress this, bitch,” Bobby retorted, grabbing his crotch. “Just stick out that tongue and say ‘ah!'”

“Hey, guys come on, ain’t nothing joke about,” Lowell protested. “Man, huh? Guy needed help.”

A week before mid-term exams, Lowell entered his Statistical Analysis class and saw both Passion and Kitty standing in front of Professor Jolet’s desk. Both girls had worried expressions on their faces.

“I tried that tutor you said,” Kitty complained. “All the guy did was stare at my boobs and tell me to work number five. Didn’t even tell me how to work number five.”

“Mr. Truesdale, are you still doing that study group?” Professor Jolet asked.

“”Huh? What study group?” Lowell almost asked when he saw Professor Jolet give him a sly wink.

“I uh, no sir, uh, two of them dropped the class and the other two said they had it from here,” Lowell said. “But I sure would like to get into another study group though.”

“Ms. Trueblue, Ms. Truehart, Mr. Truesdale has scored no lower than a ninety six on any test,” Professor Jolet suggested.

“When works for y’all?” Lowell asked.

“Three?” Passion asked Kitty.

“Yeah, fine,” Kitty huffed, holding her books squarely in front of her substantial chest.

“So, cafeteria or library works for y’all?” Lowell asked the two girls.

“Cafeteria? Ew,” Kitty made a face.

“Yeah, but we don’t have to be quiet in the cafeteria,” Lowell explained as they made their way to their seats.

“Library,” Passion suggested and Kitty nodded in agreement.

At five minutes after three, Lowell saw that they would get very little work done. Would-be Romeo after would-be Romeo came over, plopped down at their table and attempted conversation with either Kitty or Passion.

“Look, dude, we’re trying to study here,” Lowell told the latest Lothario. “So, unless you know shit about Statistics? Carry your ass on out of here, all right?”

“Yeah, think you can make me?” the sneering young man asked Lowell.

“He does not have to, Mr. Wheeler,” Dr. Abernathy, the head librarian snapped. “I will do it for him. Leave. Now. This is a library, a place of study. It is not a pick up joint.”

“Thank you, Dr. Abernathy,” Lowell said.

“You are welcome, Mr. Truesdale,” the elderly man nodded. “By the way, any word on Mr. Terje? How is he doing?”

“Says he’s getting better; might even come back next semester,” Lowell said.

The appearance of the head librarian must have been the catalyst; the trio were not interrupted again. Kitty had her test papers and Lowell took the first one and showed Passion and Kitty how to plug in the numbers.

“Oh! So, that’s what ‘saturation point’ means?” Passion asked brightly.

“Exactly. The manufacturer would look at, say, tennis shoes and try to figure, at what point would they reach maximum penetration, and at what point would the consumers no longer want their product, at what point would cheap knock-offs start to push them out of their target market?” Lowell explained, working the next problem

“Oh!” Kitty let out a happy, bubbling laugh. “Wait, wait, I think I got this one now.”

She reworked her problem and now had the correct answer. She smiled proudly when both Passion and Lowell nodded in agreement.

“Okay, that’s test number one; let’s look at the next one,” Lowell said, pulling Kitty’s second test out of the pile.

The next afternoon, Kitty had relaxed enough to greet Lowell with a smile and nod. After they’d corrected Kitty’s and Passion’s previous tests and started on the homework assignment for the next day’s class, Kitty was softly touching Lowell’s upper arm or hand when she wanted to make a point.

At class the next day, Kitty greeted Lowell and Passion with a genuine smile as she took her seat. And at three o’clock, she again touched Lowell’s hand or arm, and at one point, his thigh when she was talking.

As the trio closed their text books, Kitty leaned close to Lowell, a movement that thrust her substantial chest into his line of sight. Passion also leaned forward, to hear what Kitty had to say.

“These? When these started coming in?” Kitty whispered, pointing to her 32E chest. “Most guys? Gawd, that’s all they see; just a big old set of boobs.”

Passion nodded her head in understanding, indicating her own 34D chest. Lowell knew enough of female psychology to not allow his eyes to follow Kitty’s or Passion’s movements. He kept his eyes firmly on Kitty’s blue eyes.

“I mean, yeah, when Professor Jolet called your name?” Kitty went on. “Yeah, I recognized you; you’d been on the shuttle with me. So, when you nodded, I just looked away. I mean, most guys? They’re all like, yeah I know her, we was on the shuttle together, maybe I’ll get in her pants.”

“Because, all girls with big boobs are sluts, right?” Passion agreed.

“Honestly?” Lowell said. “Thing that caught my eye was your really nice butt.”

“See? Gawd, men are just dogs,” Kitty huffed.

“Oh. Okay. You’d rather I not find you attractive?” Lowell asked.

“Would rather you find me attractive? Me. Not my boobs or my butt,” Kitty huffed.

“Well, when you won’t talk to me, all I can focus on is what I can see,” Lowell defended. “And, what I could see was a really nice butt. Really nice butt, pretty blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes, and, yeah, nice boobs.”

“He kind of has a point there, Kitty,” Passion said. “You want him to be attracted to you, but you won’t let him anywhere near you.”

“Whatever,” Kitty huffed. “And, never said I want him attracted to me.”

“Translation? You’re right, but I’m not going to admit that you’re right,” Lowell smiled. “Sorry, Kitty. I’ve got three sisters, so I do speak some ‘Female.’ I mean, I’m not fluent in it; just enough to get by.”

“Uh huh. Well now that you know me, what you find attractive about me?” Kitty pressed.

“What? I don’t know you,” Lowell said. “I don’t know anything about either one of you, other than you don’t like when people judge you based on your beauty alone.”

“My beauty?” Passion smiled.

“You are both extremely, stunningly, unbelievably beautiful young women. Now, either one of you ever had Professor McNaughton? American History?” Lowell said.

“What you mean, you don’t know me?” Kitty demanded.

“Last semester. Everyone’s a racist, except for the African-American,” Passion said. “Don’t challenge anything he says, unless you want to fail his class.”

“So it’s not just me,” Lowell said.

“What you mean…” Kitty demanded.

“I don’t, Kitty. What do I know about you? Where did you grow up? Did you live in a barn? Under a bridge? In a Macmansion?” Lowell challenged. “Brothers? Sisters? You like mushrooms on your pizza? Which, by the way, makes you gross. Mushrooms suck.”

“Well what about you? What I know about you?” Kitty retorted.

“That I have three sisters. That I hate mushrooms, and that I’m a genius,” Lowell said.

“A genius?” Passion hooted.

“Well, at least when it comes to Statistics,” Lowell conceded.

“Whatever,” Kitty huffed again and left the table.

“Translation; you’re right,” Lowell smirked at Kitty’s retreating back.

“See you later,” Passion smiled, resting her hand on Lowell’s shoulder.

Lowell watched both sets of well-rounded buttocks marching away before pulling his American History text book out and cracking it to the next chapter. The authors of the text book did not correlate with Professor’s McNaughton’s account of the American Revolution so Lowell did his best to meld the two opinions into a coherent treatise.

The Friday afternoon, the three reviewed; the mid-term was scheduled for Monday. While they reviewed, Passion disclosed that she’d grown up in Polansky, Utah, with a single mom. There was no father listed on her birth certificate. But, even growing up in a single parent home, Passion’s childhood had been a happy one. Her mother was the sole proprietor of a Cyber security firm, so Passion had wanted for little.

Kitty revealed that there was no father listed on her birth certificate either. Nor was there a father listed for Cheryl Truehart, Kitty’s older sister. Neither Cheryl nor Katherine knew what had happened to Rachael Truehart; she’d abandoned the girls when Cheryl was nine and Kitty was three. The two girls had bounced around from foster home to foster home; sometimes together in the same home, but most of the time they’d be separated.

“And minute Cheryl turned eighteen, she got a job cleaning homes and offices and even danced at the Armada, a titty bar in Lowenburg. When Cheryl had enough money, the girl had applied for guardianship of me,” Kitty concluded. “Told me I needed get really good grades; she wanted me go to college.”

“Sounds like a really great big sister,” Lowell said.

“Yeah,” Kitty mumbled, looking at the table top.

“So, what y’all doing tonight?” Passion asked.

“Me? Nothing,” Lowell admitted.

Kitty’s head jerked up sharply. She glared at Passion.

“Oh. Uh huh. I get it,” Kitty accused. “I say okay and we make plans and then you going be all like, ‘I can’t make it, but y’all have fun.'”

“What?” Passion asked.

“What?” Lowell asked as Kitty flounced away from the table.

Lowell and Passion watched Kitty’s retreating form. Then Lowell turned and looked at Passion. He gave the befuddled blonde a shrug.

“Well, I’m not sure what that was all about, but uh, I’m not doing anything,” Lowell finally said.

“Huh? Oh, okay, uh, there’s how about Benito’s? They’re not as good as this Sloane’s Pizza we got in Dolenz, but…” Passion suggested.

“Definitely beats Pizza Hutt,” Lowell agreed. “No mushrooms.”

“And then? There’s that, oh shoot, that, that arcade,” Passion said, pointing in the general direction of Periwinkle’s Arcade.

After leaving the library, Lowell ran to his dorm. He showered and saved, then cursed his father for being such a cheap bastard. Lowell’s nicest clothes seemed inadequate for a date, even if it was a casual date of pizza and video games.

“Damn, Cyber security must pay good,” Lowell thought as Passion pulled up to the dormitory behind the wheel of a gleaming red Escalade.

Over a Hog Wild Pizza, Lowell and Passion talked and laughed, two young adults on a date, getting to know one another. A mild argument arose when the waitress put the bill on the table. With a pout, Passion allowed Lowell to win and pay for their pizza.

At Periwinkle’s Arcade, Lowell purchased five dollars’ worth of tokens and allowed Passion to guide them to the machines she wanted to play. The Reverend Roland Truesdale did not allow video games in his home, but Lowell had enough friends growing up that he’d learned the mechanics of video games.

Passion was an enthusiastic player. Her tight jeans and tight sweater did attract much attention as she squealed and bounced. More than one young man approached the attractive blonde, crotch thrust forward, sneer firmly in place, hoping to woo her away from Lowell.

“I’ve had enough,” Passion snapped after yet another young man came up to them. “You had enough?”

“Yeah, don’t think my ego can take much more of you spanking me,” Lowell smiled.

“Oh, bullshit!” Passion laughed and kissed him. “You don’t think I can tell you letting me win?”

Passion gave Lowell another passionate kiss, then wound her arm around his waist. Lowell did give a satisfied smirk at the numerous murderous glares he received from the male patrons of Periwinkle’s.

“Where to now?” Passion asked as they stepped into the dank, humid evening.

“Uh, there’s uh, that Java Joe’s? On Powell?” Lowell suggested.

“I am not paying nine bucks for a single cup of coffee,” Passion said, hitting the key fob for her car. “Got coffee at my place.”

“I uh, okay,” Lowell agreed.

“Damn, Cyber security must pay really good,” Lowell thought as Passion parked in front of Unit 102 of Castlerook Condominiums.

“Oh, hey, you not allergic to cats, huh?” Passion asked as she punched in the code on the door’s keypad.

“No, don’t think so,” Lowell said, looking around at the gleaming building and well maintained grounds. “Mrs. Becnell? Lady next door? Had like ten of them.”

“Well, I only have one; got my Excalibur,” Passion said, pushing open the door of her condo.

Entering the cool, dimly lighted interior, Passion and Lowell were greeted with a loud ‘meow.’ Lowell peered into the living room and saw a chocolate and white Persian cat perched upon a red ottoman.

“Oh my goodness; that, that is a beautiful cat,” Lowell said.

“Yes. He’s Momma’s big handsome boy, aren’t you?” Passion fussed over the long haired cat. “Who’s Momma’s handsome boy, hmm?”

Passion waved Lowell to sit. Lowell chose the overstuffed loveseat. With one more pat to Excalibur’s head, Passion disappeared into what Lowell assumed would be the kitchen of the condominium.

“You still want coffee, I grind my own,” Passion’s voice floated back. “I can even make us some decaf. Or, you want a drink? I got Jack Daniel’s, um, some gin; that’s what my mom drinks when she comes over here. Um, got some cherry vodka; don’t ask me why I got that.”

Lowell smiled; he could tell that Passion was nervous. Excalibur decided to investigate this new person that had entered his domain and jumped from ottoman to loveseat. Lowell reached out a cautious hand and gently rubbed the beast’s head.

“So, what you want? Oh, hey, mind if I get comfortable?” Passion continued talking.

“Just coffee, please. I’m really not much of a drinker,” Lowell called back. “And, yeah, go ahead and get comfortable; it’s your house.”

“Aw! Excalibur! You got a new friend? Huh? Momma’s big boy got a buddy now?” Passion cooed, entering the living room again. “What you take in your coffee?”

“Half and half if you got it, milk if you don’t,” Lowell said. “Yeah, he came over, wanted see who this new guy is.”

With a loud purr, Excalibur rolled onto his back, stretching out. Lowell gently rubbed the beast’s chest and belly.

“Ah!” Passion gasped.

“Hmm?” Lowell asked, looking up at her.

“Cats? They never expose their belly unless they feel completely safe,” Passion said quietly, returning to the kitchen.

“Well, he is safe,” Lowell said, rubbing the animal’s luxurious pelt. “He’s the king of this castle.”

“Be right back; coffee’s making,” Passion said, walking through the living room again.

She stepped to the right of the front door and climbed the flight of carpeted stairs. Excalibur decided to follow his mistress and leapt over the back of the loveseat. Lowell swiveled and watched Passion’s delectable denim clad buttocks as she trotted up the stairs.

“Let me guess; red’s your favorite color,” Lowell said aloud, now looking around at her living room.

The long couch, square chair and matching ottoman and loveseat were all a bright cherry red micro suede fabric. The large painting over the white stone fireplace was also a bright red. The coffee table, end table and bookshelves were of an antique white color, which matched the antique white frame of the bright red painting.

Lowell got to his feet and squinted at the jumbled twisted objects that made up the large painting. He could not make sense of how the red automobiles and buildings and musical instruments and other various items related to one another.

“Give you a hundred bucks if you can tell me what that is,” Passion laughed, skipping from stairs to kitchen.

“I’d lose; I have no idea,” Lowell admitted. “But for some reason? I like it.”

“You would,” Passion giggled, carrying a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and a tall glass of dark liquid in the other. “It’s a pussy.”

“It’s a what?” Lowell asked, squinting at the painting again.

“Bought it at a showing the university had,” Passion said. Girl’s in my Renaissance Literature class. Carrie Hebert.”

Lowell again tried to see how the painting represented a vagina, then shrugged in defeat. He turned and accepted the offered mug of coffee.

Passion’s idea of getting comfortable was a red silk shift that reached to mid-thigh. On her feet, she wore fuzzy red flip flops.

Lowell carefully sat on the loveseat again; Passion had filled the mug to nearly the rim. Passion sat down on the loveseat next to him and swiveled slightly in her seat to face him.

Lowell kept his eyes firmly on Passion’s deep brown eyes, even though he wanted to look at the cleavage the shift afforded him. He wanted to look down at Passion’s beautiful legs, wanted to see how high up her legs the hem of her shift crept when she sat.

“I uh, so…” Lowell started to say.

Passion leaned over and gave Lowell a soft, moist kiss. Lowell returned her kiss with a little pressure of his own. He wanted desperately to put the mug of coffee down; the hot liquid was scalding his hand.

Passion twisted slightly and opened her mouth. Lowell sighed and opened his own mouth, accepting Passion’s soft tongue. They kissed for several long moments before Passion pulled away.

Lowell sighed in relief; his fingertips were burning where they clutched the cup of hot coffee. He quickly located a coaster and put the mug down. When he swiveled to face Passion again, she leaned up and kissed him again.

When he had swiveled to locate somewhere to put his cup of coffee down, Lowell had chanced a glance at Passion’s 32D chest. In that brief glimpse; he’d been able to make out the two points of Passion’s hard nipples poking against the clingy material of the silk shift. As he swiveled back to face the beautiful blonde, Lowell had glanced quickly at her legs; the shift had crept up nearly exposing her crotch. A few millimeters higher, Lowell would have been able to see if Passion was wearing panties with her shift.

“You know, I don’t, normally? I don’t even kiss on the first date,” Passion murmured as she pulled her lips from Lowell’s lips.

“But you know me,” Lowell counseled.

“Mm-hmm,” Passion agreed.

Hands no longer encumbered by the scalding hot cup, Lowell raised his hand to Passion’s beautiful face. He gently traced her jawline with the tips of his fingers while their lips mashed together. She gave a little shudder as Lowell’s fingers traced along her throat to her shoulder.

Amber Duhon had possessed a 32C chest. Becky Wright had proudly sported a 34C chest. Both girls had taught Lowell that most girls did not care to have their breasts grabbed, squeezed, mauled. True, some girls did actually like rough treatment, but most girls appreciated a gentle touch, especially if it was the first time the two were being intimate.

Lowell took their advice to heart and gently traced along the outline of Passion’s breasts. The silky material of her shift rubbed against his fingers as he traced the heavy orbs, slowly coming closer and closer to her hard nipples.

“Augh, mm, oh!” Passion sighed out as Lowell’s fingers rubbed across her tightly crinkled nipples.

They kissed, Passion gripping his upper arm in a fierce grip. Lowell used his other hand to locate the cloth covered button at the opening of her shift. He sucked firmly on her thrusting tongue as he worked the button loose.

“Mm, oh!” she moaned as his fingers danced along her throat to the tops of her breasts.

Lowell slowly travelled from Passion’s throat to her breasts. He raked his fingernails gently along the tops of Passion’s breasts before seeking out the second cloth covered button of her shift. He moved his mouth from hers and traced his lips along her jaw as he unbuttoned the second of the four buttons.

“Mm, oh, augh, oh God,” Passion moaned as Lowell’s lips traced along her throat to the tops of her shoulders.

As he kissed along her throat and shoulders, Lowell’s fingers now danced along her heavy breasts. Her breathing was short gasps as Lowell’s fingernails gently raked across her right areole and hard nipple.

Lowell returned to her mouth and sucked another kiss from her as he unbuttoned the third button. She gave a slight scream into his mouth when his fingers raked along the undersides of her heavy breasts.

Lowell kissed from mouth to throat to shoulders then along the upper swell of her left, then right breast. He undid the final button as he swiped his tongue over Passion’s hard nipples. He gave her gasping mouth another kiss.

“Wait, wait, oh God,” Passion groaned, gently pushing Lowell away.

She grabbed her drink and swallowed the entire drink in one long swallow. She put the glass down on her coaster and regarded Lowell through bleary eyes.

“God damn, what, what did you just do to me?” Passion asked.

“I, uh, I just, Lowell stammered.

“You got me this close,” Passion said, holding up a thumb and forefinger. “This close to coming.”

She looked down and realized that her shift was fluttering open, fully exposing her flesh to him. She gasped and looked up at him again.

“How did, how did you do that?” she accused.

“I just, I uh,” Lowell stammered.

“Come on, let’s go,” Passion demanded, standing.

“My uh, my coffee?” Lowell asked.

“I’ll make you more later,” Passion urged, pulling him to his feet.

She pressed her nearly nude body against him and kissed him hotly. Then she pulled him to the stairs.

In her bedroom, there was a single lamp lighted. Lowell took a quick look around. Unsurprisingly, red was the dominant color in her bedroom. Even the wood was stained a light reddish brown.

Lowell drank in the sight of Passion’s form as she slithered out of the loose shift. He admired her sweetly rounded buttocks as she wiggled out of her red bikini panties. When she turned, Lowell saw that the carpet did match the drapes. Passion’s prominent pubic mound was lightly dusted by blonde curls. The curls did not fully conceal her wet slit from view. He could see her inner lips, plump and wet peeking out.

Lowell quickly shrugged out of his pull over shirt. He took his tennis shoes off without untying them, then slid jeans and socks off in one fluid movement.

Both Amber and Becky had smirked at Lowell’s tidy whities, the plain cotton briefs that Lilah had purchased for him. Slowly, Lowell replaced those boys’ undergarments with plain cotton boxers. Now, in Passion’s bedroom, Lowell paused for just a moment, then peeled the simple garment down and off.

He pulled Passion against him, pressing his hard seven inches of fat, circumcised meat into her belly. She moaned into his mouth as he now allowed his hands to freely roam along her bared flesh. He felt her smooth back, her sleek arms, her soft belly and her flared hips.

“Mm hmm,” she crooned as he gave a firm squeeze to her buttocks.

Silently, they fell across her soft comfortable sleigh bed. Passion crawled on top of Lowell, hungrily sucking kisses from him while her hands roamed his muscled body.

Lowell slowly edged Passion onto her back. He kissed down her throat to her left breast. She gasped as his teeth gently nibbled at her flesh.

When he reached her tightly crinkled nipple, he gave a tug with his teeth. Passion cried out, clutching Lowell’s head tightly to her breast.

“Shit!” she cried out. “I just came! That, that’s never happened to me.”

Lowell again sucked kisses from her gasping mouth before he kissed his way down to her right breast. Again she sucked in a lungful of air, then shuddered when he tugged her nipple with his teeth.

Lowell gave one more kiss to Passion’s mouth before wiggling down to blow hot breath across Passion’s plump and wet pussy lips. She shook and groaned. Lowell then gave her lips several long licks, then used his thumbs to open her for his mouth.

“Augh, aw God, yes!” Passion keened in orgasm when Lowell gave her clitoris a forceful suck.

After he licked and sucked and fingered her through two more orgasms, Passion rolled Lowell onto his back. She crawled on top of him and began kissing him hotly.

“Condoms?” Lowell gasped out; he could feel her wet pussy rubbing on the head of his cock.

“Aw, fuck! You got any?” Passion exclaimed.

“No, I mean, yeah, I got a box of them back at my dorm room,” Lowell groaned.

“Fuck it,” Passion hissed and slid herself down over Lowell’s erection.

Both groaned when he hit bottom. Passion wiggled her hips and thrust herself against him. Lowell held her tightly for a long moment, savoring the delicious feelings of her tight, hot, wet pussy squeezing and milking his cock. This was only Lowell’s second time entering a woman’s pussy. It was the first time Lowell had entered a pussy without a latex sheath covering his cock.

“Augh!” Lowell grunted; the feeling of skin against skin was intense.

“Uh huh,” Passion agreed, hunching her crotch against him.

Passion squealed in surprise when Lowell suddenly twisted and managed to roll Passion onto her back underneath him. Lowell paused a moment, savoring the feeling of her pussy squeezing and pulsing around his manhood. Then he slowly pulled himself out.

“Augh!” Passion wheezed when Lowell plunged himself into her again.

“Oh God, oh Lowell,” Passion gasped and groaned when Lowell treated her to several short jabs, then a few long and deliberate strokes with his fat meat.

“Aw shit, oh God!” Passion suddenly screamed out.

Lowell felt Passion’s body tense in orgasm. Her pussy clamped tightly around his cock as she grunted and groaned in orgasm. He could feel her juices running down his thighs.

“Oh God, yes, oh God,” Passion gasped as Lowell again began to thrust into her.

Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. Her arms held his torso flat against her as he gave her several short jabs then a few deliberate strokes. A few short jabs, a few long strokes.

“Oh, oh, aw God,” Passion screamed out and again, Lowell’s cock was trapped within her.

“I’m going to…” Lowell warmed.

“Yyeess,” Passion gave out a long keening scream as Lowell’s sperm jetted into her pussy.

And Excalibur picked that exact moment to let out a plaintive ‘meow.’ Lowell locked eyes with Passion, then the two lovers collapsed in gales of giggles.

“Way to kill the moment there, fur ball,” Lowell managed to gasp out as he disentangled himself from Passion’s sweat soaked body.

“Oh, Momma’s big boy just wanted to know what you was doing to his momma, isn’t that right, isn’t that right? Who’s Momma’s big boy?” Passion cooed.

“What I was doing ain’t none of his business,” Lowell said, giving Excalibur a gentle nudge with his foot.

Passion rolled onto her side and faced Lowell. Lowell rolled onto his side and kissed Passion. The kiss grew in intensity and the lovers joined again. For several long moments, the two lay, side by side and thrust against one another.

Soon Lowell tired of this clumsy position and rolled Passion onto her back again. Again, he gave her several short jabs, then followed those with a few longer strokes.

Soon, the two were thrusting against one another, no finesse or rhythm to their joining. Both were in a race to completion.

“God, oh God yyeess,” Passion screamed out.

“Augh, oh God yes,” Lowell cried out and began to pump his semen into Passion’s pussy again.

Lowell felt something jostling the pillow. Then he felt something heavy resting on his shoulder. Then he felt something batting at his nose.

“Meow,” Excalibur announced and the animal’s fetid breath assaulted Lowell’s nostrils.

“Whew! Buddy! Go get a Tic Tac, huh?” Lowell grunted.

“He’s hungry; time for his breakfast,” Passion mumbled.

“And? Go get your breakfast, animal,” Lowell said. “Shit. You’re a cat. Go kill something.”

“Cans are on the bottom shelf, first cabinet,” Passion said and burrowed underneath her comforter.

“Meow,” Excalibur announced.

“What? Oh no sir, buddy. That? That’s your momma. I’m just a visitor here,” Lowell protested.

“First cabinet,” Passion mumbled, burrowing further down.

“Useless animal,” Lowell said, getting out of the bed.

He found the cans of food. The entire time, Excalibur impatiently bumped his head against Lowell’s hand, harm, side while Lowell tried to find something to put the food into. When Lowell found Passion’s plates and opened the can of food, he nearly gagged. But Excalibur fell face first into the smelly slop.

“Good God, that stuff stinks,” Lowell said, getting into the bed again.

“Come hold me,” Passion demanded.

Lowell put his left arm over Passion’s slim waist. He eased his hand up and cupped one of her large breasts.

“Mm hmm,” Passion sleepily approved.

He settled his sticky crotch against her sweetly rounded buttocks. Again she murmured her approval and rubbed herself softly against him.

“Oh! Is that for me?” Passion cooed as Lowell’s cock grew to full hardness.

Lowell slipped his renewed erection into her from behind. Slowly, languidly they thrust together for a few moments. Then Passion rolled onto her hands and knees. Lowell knelt behind her and again thrust himself into her.

“God yes, oh Lowell, oh baby,” Passion cried out.

“Damn, yes,” Lowell grunted and spewed his seed into her.

Then the two lovers slept again. Satiated for now, Excalibur curled up directly behind Lowell’s back and slept.

“You like French toast?” Passion sleepily asked.

“Yeah,” Lowell agreed, trying to roll over, but finding an obstacle behind himself.

“Good; it’s my favorite,” Passion admitted and pulled her shift on. “Damn! Still can’t believe; how’d you get this unbuttoned without me knowing?”

“Yeah, well, Lowell said, managing to shove Excalibur aside.

“Need bring a razor with you next time,” Passion said, gently rubbing Lowell’s face. “Oh! Want use mine?”

“Oh good God no!” Lowell said. “No thank you! I’ve seen what women’s legs and underarms do to a razor.”

After their breakfast, Lowell shrugged into his clothes. Passion pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a light sweater, then drove Lowell to his dormitory.

Lowell used the electronic kiosk to sign himself in, then raced up the stairs to his dorm room. He grabbed his shower kit, a change of clothes, and his text books for his Monday-Wednesday-Friday classes.

“Well, how nice of you to drop by,” Darren, the new student monitor quipped as Lowell raced for the stairs.

“Least I could do,” Lowell shot back.

Again, Lowell signed himself out, then ran outside. Passion gave him a hot kiss, then drove them to her condominium again.

The moment they were inside of the condominium, Passion pulled Lowell into her bedroom again. She pulled off top and yoga pants and played with herself while Lowell nearly broke his neck, trying to get out of jeans, underwear and shoes at the same time.

Lowell had remembered to bring the condoms. Passion spread her legs wide and Lowell slid himself into her.

“Fuck it, get that thing off,” Passion grunted a moment later. “What they make the morning after pill for.”

Sunday afternoon, Passion pouted when a panting, sweating Lowell pulled his wilting cock from her sloppy pussy. But she agreed; she too had a mountain of studying to do.

The couple sat at Passion’s small dining room table and quietly reviewed the materials of their various classes. Twice Lowell had to push Excalibur from his notebook; the animal seemed to delight in flopping down and stretching out on Lowell’s notebooks.

“Think he likes you,” Passion giggled.

“Thinks he likes pissing me off,” Lowell countered, but smiled.

Monday morning, Lowell and Passion shared a quick kiss, then ran for their classes. As Lowell scribbled the answers to the American History mid-term exam, his mind wandered back to the exciting, passionate, sweaty weekend with the beautiful blonde. In his mind’s eye, Lowell could see Passion’s sweating face, her sweating breasts bobbling up and down as she rode Lowell’s cock to a screaming orgasm. In his mind’s eye, Lowell could see his forefinger and middle finger plumbing Passion’s back door as he hammered her tight pussy from behind. Professor McNaughton regarded the smiling Lowell Truesdale with a suspicious eye as Lowell turned in his completed exam.

Kitty studiously ignored Passion and Lowell when Passion and Lowell entered the room to take the examination for Statistical Analysis. With a shrug, Passion gave Lowell a quick kiss, then they took their seats to wait for the examinations to be handed out.

“Oh! You like lasagna?” Passion suddenly asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I like lasagna,” Lowell agreed.

“I love lasagna,” a young man that was seated behind Passion offered.

“Oh. That’s nice,” Passion said flatly to the interloper.

Passion’s lasagna was okay. It wasn’t great, it wasn’t bad, it was just okay. Lowell did think he’d had better frozen lasagna than what Passion cooked. And he knew enough of female psychology to know to keep his mouth shut about her lasagna.

Dinner was followed at once by hot, sweaty sex. They started in a sixty nine position; Passion straddling Lowell’s head while he lay on his back. After both had brought the other to climax, Passion straddled Lowell’s erection and bounced to another climax. Lowell then rolled Passion onto her back and pounded her into her mattress.

“God, just love the feeling of your jizz shooting into me,” Passion sighed contentedly.

“Pregnancy?” Lowell suggested.

“Yeah, there is that,” Passion agreed. “Oh well. No risk, no reward.”

Lowell’s fears of unwanted pregnancy disappeared as Passion performed a noisy blow job, bringing up another erection. She then encouraged him to do her doggy style. Lowell lubricated his pointing and middle fingers with his saliva and fingered Passion’s tight anal passage while he pounded her pussy from behind.

“You know where his food is,” Passion giggled when Excalibur woke Lowell from a deep slumber the following morning.

“So do you,” Lowell said, but did crawl out of the warm, comfortable bed. “Come on, you miserable beast.”

The week before Thanksgiving, Lowell checked his dormitory mailbox. There was a postcard from his father’s church; the card had the church’s schedule printed on the front. On the back, Roland Truesdale inquired if his son would be coming home for the Thanksgiving break. Lowell’s first thought was to simply throw the cold, impersonal mail away.

“Well, what you want to do?” Passion asked him when he showed her the postcard.

“I don’t know,” Lowell said quietly; looking around the library at the few students. “Stay here, I guess. I mean, a whole day on Greyhound? Just to put up with my dad’s shit? And it’s not like Lilah can cook worth a damn anyway.”

“Could have Thanksgiving with me,” Passion suggested, smiling happily.

“But I thought, I mean, you ain’t going to, to, damn it,” Lowell faltered.

“Polanski?” Passion supplied.

“No, not Polanski,” Lowell said.

“What? Yeah it is,” Passion said, then giggled at Lowell’s playful smile.

Passion dug her cell phone out of her purse and sent her mother a quick text. Passion’s mother must have been standing with her cell phone in her hand; the reply was instantaneous.

“Said you can come and she’s looking forward to meeting you,” Passion announced.

She put the cell phone back into her purse after sending her mother an ‘I Love You’ text. She then shook her head and dug the phone out again. She quickly tapped the screen, then nodded her head in satisfaction.

“We’ll fly out of North Municipal at seven; bring your coat,” Passion announced. “Polanski’s already had temperatures in the low twenties.”

Lowell sent a reply postcard to Roland’s church. The simple message read, ‘will be with girlfriend this Thanksgiving. Lowell.’

He did not sign the card ‘love’ or use any other endearments. After all, his father’s card had not had any endearments, just a demand.

Stepping off of the small puddle-jumper at Fastway-Young airport, Lowell spotted Passion’s twin anxiously watching the few passengers disembarking from the plane. When he pointed the stunning blonde out to Passion, Pasion let out a squeal and ran to the blonde woman. The blonde woman also let out a squeal and wrapped Passion in a tight embrace.

Lowell picked up Passion’s discarded carry-on bag and continued a leisurely pace toward the two women.

“And Momma, this is…” Passion excitedly said.

“You’re Lowell Truesdale,” the older blonde woman declared, large brown eyes wide, small button mouth open in shock.

“I uh, yes ma’am,” Lowell said, confused at the woman’s reaction.

Surely Passion had said his name whenever she talked to her mother. But, her mother’s odd inflection as she announced Lowell Truesdale’s name made him pause.

“You’re Roland Truesdale’s boy,” Vixen Trueblue said, large eyes still wide in surprise.

“Uh, yes ma’am?” Lowell said, looking to Passion for assistance or information.

“Momma, you know Lowell?” Passion asked, also puzzled at her mother’s reaction.

“Trudy was your momma,” Vixen continued goggling at Lowell.

“I uh, yes ma’am, Trudy’s my mom,” Lowell agreed, stomach knotting up. “I mean, I uh, I haven’t seen her in forever, but…”

“Momma, you know Lowell?” Passion asked again.

“Oh, my God,” Vixen said.

“Uh, ma’am, if there’s a problem,” Lowell said.

“Huh? Oh! Oh no, no, Sweetie, there’s, no, there’s no problem,” Vixen hastened, grabbing Lowell in a tight embrace. “No, no, there’s no problem.”

The luggage from their plane was wheeled into the terminal. Lowell and Passion found their two suitcases. Vixen and Passion both beamed proudly when Lowell assisted an elderly woman locate her own suitcase.

“Of all the people in this world,” Vixen muttered to herself as she led Passion and Lowell toward her Jaguar. “Oh my God. Of all the people, Roland Truesdale’s boy. Of all the people…”

“Ms. Trueblue, if there’s a problem, listen, I’ll just catch the next flight…” Lowell offered.

“Huh? No, no, it’s just that, I’m just surprised, I mean, I just never, my God, you look just like Roland, I swear,” Vixen stammered, popping open the trunk of her car.

“You sure? I mean, you sound…” Lowell said.

“No, no, let’s go,” Vixen said, bending to grab Passion’s laptop case.

By the time they left the parking lot of the small airport, Vixen and Passion were chattering excitedly about school, about Vixen’s business, about their cats. Lowell sat in the rear of the luxury automobile, watching the barren scenery whiz past their window.

Vixen Trueblue’s home was a sprawling single story structure. The chocolate brick looked elegant, accented by rustic red trim. Vixen hit a button on her dashboard and the first garage bay opened. Looking over, Lowell’s eyes opened wide at the sight of a gleaming yellow Lamborghini. There was also a dark green Escalade SUV. The fourth bay was empty; Lowell surmised that this was where Passion parked when she had lived at home.

“You’re in your room,” Vixen glibly announced as Lowell and Passion wrestled the suitcases into the home. “I left it just like it was when you left here last time. Lowell? You might find a chicken salad sandwich your, Passion was eating when she tore out of here.”

“Mother! You didn’t! Tell me you didn’t!” Passion screeched, dropping her carryon bag and racing down a hall.

“We, uh, we’re in the same room?” Lowell asked, surprised.

“Yeah, well, I mean, I knew she was sexually active with her new beau,” Vixen stammered. “I, well, we’ve always been pretty open about sex with each other. Of course, I didn’t know you’re Roland’s boy.”

“Mother!” Passion’s voice floated from somewhere in the house.

“I stuck it in the freezer out back,” Vixen giggled conspiratorially to Lowell. “When she texted me that you two were on the plane, I took it out and put it on her bed, right where she’d left it.”

“Mother! Really? This is disgusting!” Passion squealed, carrying a plate with the remains of a soggy, wilted sandwich.

“Hey, I told you, I am not your maid,” Vixen smirked. “You know where our garbage can is.”

“So, I uh, now that you know I’m Roland Truesdale’s son?” Lowell asked Vixen.

“Come on,” Vixen sighed. “Guess now’s just as good a time as any to tell you two. Lowell, do you drink?”

“I no, no ma’am, I’m really not much of a drinker,” Lowell admitted.

“That might change,” Vixen said, ushering Lowell into a large family room. “Passion? Want a drink?”

“Jack and coke,” Passion agreed, following Lowell and Vixen into the sunken living room.

Vixen walked to a bar. Lowell chose a soft tweed loveseat to sit on. Passion wheeled a large tweed ottoman over and flopped down next to Lowell. She kicked her feet up on the ottoman then leaned heavily against Lowell.

Vixen made Passion’s Jack Daniels and coke, then made herself a gin and tonic. Lowell again declined her offer of a drink.

Vixen handed Passion her Jack and coke, then sat across from the two young people in a tweed barrel chair. She took a hefty gulp of her gen and tonic.

“Jesus,” Vixen muttered to herself. “Roland Truesdale’s boy. Of all the people in the world. Roland Truesdale’s boy.”

“Ms. Vixen, again, if it’s a problem…” Lowell said.

“Huh? Oh, no, no Lowell,” Vixen hastened to assure him. “No, it, well, it is just a shock, that’s all.”

“Momma, you know Lowell’s Daddy?” Passion asked, taking a dip of her drink.

“Oh yeah, you could say that,” Vixen let a giggle escape.

Vixen drained her drink and stood up. She walked to the bar again and made herself another gin and tonic. Passion sipped her drink as they waited. Lowell cleared his throat.

“Mm, Ms. Vixen? I, I think I would like a drink now,” Lowell said.

“Oh good,” Vixen said. “What’s your pleasure?”

“Jack and coke, please,” Lowell said.

“That’s my man,” Passion beamed.

“Anyway,” Vixen said, handing Lowell his drink. “Your father graduated from Coronation High School, did not have a clue what to do. There wasn’t a whole bunch of places in Coronation and colleges don’t offer scholarships to under-achievers.”

“My dad? Was an under-achiever?” Lowell snorted.

“He wasn’t a bad student,” Vixen stated, kicking her feet up on her own ottoman. “He just wasn’t a good student. Nothing really excited him.”

“My dad? Mr. Perfect,” Lowell said and took a sip of his drink.

The liquor burned his throat and seemed to cling to his esophagus. Wallowing again seemed to break the alcohol free of its mooring and it burned its way down to Lowell’s stomach. He took another cautious sip of his drink.

“Mm hmm, you need to remember, this was about twenty years before they discovered oil in North Dakota,” Vixen said. “Reverend Richards? Pastor of Redeemer Christian Church in Ten Bear Lake; your dad was always real involved in the church, mainly because Reverend Richards had these twin daughters. Both blondes with big boobs and tiny brains, Valerie and Veronica.”

“Oh yeah! We lived in Ten Bear Lake, I think until I was about four. Then my mom just up and left and we moved to Stepping Stone.”

“Up and left?” Vixen snapped. “Up and left! That, that’s what your dad told you?”

“I uh, yes ma’am,” Lowell said, taking a large gulp of his drink.

“Lowell, you have to know, your mother, your mother didn’t leave you,” Vixen said quietly, wiping at a tear.

“Momma, you knew Lowell’s mom?” Passion asked.

“Passion! Don’t tell me you don’t remember your Aunt Trudy,” Vixen said.

“Aunt Trudy? That, that was Lowell’s mom?” Passion asked, brown eyes wide.

“Mm hmm,” Vixen said and drained her second drink. “God, if I have another, I’m going to be pretty drunk.”

“My Aunt Trudy, guess I was about four or five, she came and stayed with us,” Passion said quietly to Lowell as Vixen fixed herself a third drink.

“Anyway,” Vixen said, sitting down again.

Lowell noticed that Vixen often began her sentences with ‘anyway.’

“Reverend Richards suggested that your dad go to Atwell School of Divinity,” Vixen said.

“He wanted me to go there too,” Lowell disclosed.

“You? A preacher?” Passion snorted.

“I’m pretty sure it was mostly just to get into Valerie’s pants; that was the daughter your dad liked,” Vixen said, waving her hand at Passion to still her daughter’s tongue. “They got married and moved to Idaho.”

“Martinelli,” Lowell supplied.

“The day they left? Trudy and me; we were just so broken-hearted. We both had major crushes on Roland; God! He was so handsome!” Vixen said, taking a big gulp of her drink. “Truthfully? I think Elizabeth had a bit of a crush on him as well. Anyway, four years later, Roland had his degree and they came back, Valerie’s got R.J. just about walking and she’s pushing this double stroller; they had two of the cutest fat little babies, oh! All curly brown hair and fat little faces and fat little bodies and these dimples. I just wanted to squeeze them up they were so cute.”

“Kyle and Kylie,” Lowell said. “They still look just like their baby pictures.”

“I bet,” Vixen smiled. “And how’s R.J. doing?”

“He uh, he was killed in Iraq,” Lowell said.

“Oh! Oh my God, no!” Vixen gasped, hand on her heart.

“I’m so sorry,” Passion murmured to Lowell, putting her hand on his thigh. “You want another drink?”

“Still drinking this one,” Lowell said, showing her that his glass was more than half full.

“Anyway, where was I?” Vixen asked herself as Passion made herself another drink. “Oh yeah, anyway, Roland and Valerie came back and Reverend Richards hired your dad to be the assistant pastor of Redeemer and he and Valerie moved into the trailer behind the church. Trudy and me? We were there almost every day and it was plain to see, there was trouble in paradise.”

“I remember that trailer,” Lowell agreed, shifting to give Passion room when she returned.

“I mean, Valerie was just bitching and bitching; of course, that’s nothing new,” Vixen continued. “I will never understand why your dad didn’t go after Veronica; she was a whole lot nicer than Valerie. But your dad was bending over backward to kiss Valerie’s ass and the Reverend Richards’s ass and was running himself ragged.”

The alcohol burned as Lowell sipped it. He could feel a certain fuzziness at the corners of his mind as he sipped his drink. He smiled when Passion again put her hand onto his thigh and her head on his shoulder.

“Anyway. Valerie called me and told me, didn’t ask me, just told me to get over to the trailer and watch R.J. and Kyle and Kylie; she needed to get some stuff to do for the church,” Vixen said, draining her third drink. “Trudy and me, we went over there; hell, we would have done just about anything to be with Roland.”

“Your uh, your mom didn’t mind? You being over at my dad’s trailer?” Lowell asked.

“What? Why would she mind?” Vixen asked. “After all…”

“Well, I uh, I mean, yeah he’s a minister and all, but ministers are people too,” Lowell stammered. “You know. They uh, they get tempted just as much as the next guy.”

“Anyway,” Vixen said, taking a sip of her drink. “We went on over there; Trudy would do just about anything to be with Roland. Me too. Valerie took off and six hours later, Roland came in, his butt dragging. He looked around, then asked us where Valerie was. Of course, we didn’t know; we told him she’d gone to get some copies for the church or something.”

“Your mom didn’t check up on you?” Passion asked.

“She knew right where I and Trudy were,” Vixen said. “Anyway, Trudy called her mom, told her mom she’s going to fix Roland some supper and then she’ll be right home after that.”

“She was a great cook,” Lowell said sadly. “Lilah? Can burn water, I swear.”

“And I called my mom, let her know I was staying the night, you know, to help take care of Kyle and Kylie and R.J. until whenever Valerie decided to show up,” Vixen said.

“Momma! How old were you?” Passion asked.

“Me? Just made eighteen, five, no, no, six days before all this took place,” Vixen admitted.

“And your mom was just fine with you…” Passion asked.

“Well, yeah, why wouldn’t she be? I mean, Roland was my big brother,” Vixen said and finished her drink.

“Wait, what?” Lowell asked, sure he had not heard Ms. Vixen’s words right.

“Hold up, hold up, you mean, Lowell, we’re cousins?” Passion asked, brown eyes wide with shock.

“We’re cousins?” Lowell asked, staring at Passion.

“Oh, no, no,” Vixen laughed, a giggling laugh.

“Oh!” Passion let out a breath.

“Man! Had me, had us going there for a minute,” Lowell agreed.

“Anyway, Trudy fixed dinner, I helped feed R.J. and Kylie and Kyle and Roland had a plate in front of him, but he’d started drinking his Evan Williams pretty much from when we told him we didn’t know where Valerie was,” Vixen continued her narrative.

“My dad don’t drink,” Lowell claimed.

“And you just keep believing that,” Vixen snorted. “He bought Evan Williams by the half gallon.”

Lowell pondered that for a moment. He could vaguely make out a bottle, a large bottle of amber colored liquid underneath the sink in the trailer. He remembered hearing his mother threatening to pour out that bottle.

“Anyway, we got R.J. and Kylie and Kyle fed, got them bathed and got them in bed,” Vixen said. “Roland was sitting on the couch and Trudy got on one side of him so I got on the other side of him and we both hugged him and told him it would be all right. Then Trudy kissed him. The little bitch. She kissed him and even put a little tongue into it. Well! She’s not going to get away with that! So, I kissed him too, and of course, I gave him some tongue.”

“Your own brother?” Passion whispered, all teasing gone.

“Anyway, Trudy started to rub Roland’s um, manhood,” Vixen continued. “And her mother called, told her to get her butt home; it was late. Kylie had spit up on my blouse so I told Roland to get me a tee shirt or something to sleep in; I was going to take a shower. I still remember that tee shirt; it was one of his Atwell Divinity tee shirts.”

Lowell finished his drink, feeling the ball of whiskey in his belly. Passion tried to take the glass from his hand but he shook his head ‘no.’ Vixen lifted her own glass, then realized it was empty, save for a few cubes of ice.

“You have to remember, I’d been in love with him my whole life,” Vixen said, more to herself than to Lowell and Passion. “He handed me that tee shirt and when I slid open the door of the bathroom, Roland offered to scrub my back. We’d been kissing, and hugging and I was pretty turned on.”

“I uh, my dad?” Lowell asked.

“Anyway, Valerie? She had pretty big boobs, but because I’m so small? My thirty D boobs looked gigantic. Roland rubbed them and slobbered all over them,” Vixen continued, not looking at anything in the room. “That’s when I found out I have no gag reflex.”

“Mother! TMI there,” Passion chided her mother.

“Anyway, I’m pretty sure that’s when I got knocked up with you,” Vixen said, now focusing on Passion. “Losing my virginity, I’d always heard such horror stories about it, but losing it didn’t hurt one bit. And I found out that I really, really like to fuck.”

Lowell did not consider himself to be a prude. But to hear a woman using such crude words, especially about herself was pretty shocking. And it was especially shocking because Vixen Trueblue looked so elegant, so refined with her expensive clothing, flattering hairstyle, and perfectly applied makeup.

“Mother!” Passion said.

“Oh, shush,” Vixen smirked at her hotly blushing daughter. “Don’t try to act like you haven’t seen my tapes a thousand times, hmm?”

“Tapes?” Lowell asked before his alcohol slowed brain could tell his alcohol fueled mouth to shut up.

“That’s where my name comes from,” Vixen smiled a sassy little smile at Lowell. “My real name before I had it legally changed to Vixen Trueblue was Victoria Truesdale. When I went to my mother and told her I was pregnant, she kicked me out of her good, God fearing Christian home. To make matters worse, not that they could get much worse, but to make matters worse, I refused to tell anyone who the father was. You have to remember, I loved your father with all my heart. There was no way I could tell anyone.”

“I uh, wait, wait a minute,” Lowell said, his alcohol slowed brain beginning to fill in the blank spots.

“Wait a minute, all these years? I been asking you who my daddy is and you been saying…” Passion said.

“We’re brother and sister?” Lowell made the connection.

“We’re…” Passion asked, eyes and mouth wide in shock.

“So, I told myself, I like to fuck. I’m pretty good at fucking. Where can I go and get paid to fuck?” Vixen said. “Lowell, you about ready for another drink?”

“Think I need one,” Lowell admitted, holding out his glass.

“We’re, we can’t be,” Passion whispered, shaking her head in denial.

“I did some research; Falgout Film Studios, right here in Polanski does adult movies,” Vixen said, returning with her glass and Lowell’s glass.

“Porn,” Passion filled in.

“And Brian Sheridan, he’s their lawyer, he told me they’ll pay me five hundred a shoot. I told him, I’m three months along with that one there. In a couple of weeks, we won’t be able to hide the fact that I’m pregnant,” Vixen said.

“That one there, huh?” Passion smirked.

“Yes, Miss leave my food wherever I feel like it,” Vixen continued. I told him, I’m three months along. In about a month or two, I’ll really be showing and there’s a buttload of guys like seeing fresh faced, innocent little pregnant teeny-boppers getting fucked. I’m a ‘Diamond Member Only’ girl; I should get at least two thousand per shoot.”

“And you did what? At least twenty, huh?” Passion asked.

“Twenty? Maybe in the first month,” Vixen snorted. “The minute their members saw my picture up next to the ‘Diamond Members Only’ link with my Belly all big, and my boobs, I’ve always had big boobs, but when they were filled with milk? Their Diamond membership shot up nearly four hundred percent.”

Lowell could not help his reaction. He and Passion had been having sex regularly, and had not been using any method of birth control, other than the morning after pill. The thought of Passion’s belly becoming swollen with his, their baby, the thought of her already quite substantial breasts becoming even larger, becoming filled with milk caused his cock to swell to full erection.

“They still have my picture up, next to the Diamond Members link,” Vixen smiled. “Of course, now instead of being a pregnant teeny-slut, now I’m a MLF slut.”

“You mean, you still do it?” Lowell asked, shocked.

“Why not? The money’s good, and yes, I still like to fuck,” Vixen admitted. “And, what better way can you think of for me to get some dick, without the chance of them becoming all clingy and demanding? Passion, I’m sure you remember that Paul Eckles guy, hmm?”

“Oh yeah,” Passion said, rolling her eyes. “But what about Aunt Penny?”

“Oh! Really? You just had to bring her up?” Vixen squealed.

“Aunt Penny?” Lowell asked Passion.

“Mom’s um…girlfriend,” Passion confided.

“Mom’s lawyer,” Vixen corrected.

“Don’t know a whole bunch of lawyers willing to…” Passion began, but Vixen waved her to silence.

“Anyway. I made a pretty decent chunk of change; certainly made enough to go to Myndee University,” Vixen said. “Go Blue Jays! In the meantime, I found out Trudy, she and Roland got married before the ink was even dry on his divorce from Valerie. I wasn’t invited to the wedding; after all, I’m the evil whore got herself knocked up out of wedlock. Your Aunt Elizabeth wasn’t invited either, so I really didn’t feel that left out.”

“Aunt Elizabeth?” Passion asked.

“Lowell, you should ask your father if he remembers Elizabeth,” Vixen said. “Our big sister?”

“I, he never said anything about…” Lowell admitted.

“Oh, I was pretty sure he wouldn’t,” Vixen agreed. “She ran off with Daniel Postino when he went off to Hollywood to be an actor.”

“Dan…I’m racking my brain but I don’t remember any actor named Daniel Postino,” Lowell admitted.

“Me neither,” Passion said.

“Really? Oh, oh, that’s right, that’s because Daniel Postino was a terrible actor,” Vixen said. “He was very good looking, that’s for sure. But dumb as a post. Oh, hey, maybe that’s what ‘Postino’ means in Italian.”

“Not on google,” Passion announced, looking at her phone.

“Okay, Grandma L. had that wall,” Lowell said, having a vague memory of his grandmother’s trailer. “And there were all these pictures. But I don’t remember there being no pictures of any girls, other than Kylie.”

“No surprise that. So, the two evil daughters? We’re not invited to the wedding; we don’t even exist. Actually, I don’t know if anyone even knows where your Aunt Elizabeth is now,” Vixen said.

Vixen shook her head. Then she smirked and looked up at Lowell.

“Of course, there was nothing’s said about the fact that Trudy was already about three months gone with you. Oh no, that’s forgivable, isn’t it? She just gave in to temptation, right?” Vixen smirked.

Vixen shrugged and looked at a spot above Lowell’s head. Slowly, her eyes returned and looked at Lowell’s face. Then she looked at her hands in her lap.

“After she had you, Trudy had what? Two or three miscarriages?” Vixen asked.

“She what?” Lowell asked, surprised.

“Oh, yeah. Forgot. The Roland Truesdale method of dealing with problems. If we don’t speak of it, it never happened,” Vixen shook her head. “But, then right after Trudy managed to have Mindy, how’s she doing anyway?”

“Mindy? Pain in the ass, that’s how she’s doing,” Lowell shrugged. “When I managed to piss my dad off, all Mindy would do is laugh. Which, of course, got my dad even more pissed off. But he can’t do anything to her; she’s an angel.”

“Got any pictures of her?” Vixen asked.

Lowell thumbed through his phone. The only photo he’d saved from before getting the new phone was his graduation picture. He pulled the picture up and got to unsteady feet.

“Here’s my graduation picture,” Lowell said.

“Oh my God, oh my God, she is the spitting image of Trudy,” Vixen gasped, tears springing to her eyes.

“Let me see,” Passion demanded when Lowell sat down again.

Passion looked at the cell phone’s screen image for a long moment. Somberly, she nodded her head and handed the phone to Lowell.

“She does look like Aunt Trudy,” Passion said softly.

“After Mindy, Trudy had another miscarriage and that’s when she went to a doctor in Michigan,” Vixen said after taking another sip of her drink. “I honestly don’t know what the hell was wrong with Dr. OMnisted; seriously? A healthy young woman keeps having miscarriages and you don’t take a look?”

A long moment of silence followed. Lowell took another sip of his drink and shuddered as the alcohol burned down into his stomach.

“Doctor in Michigan said there were a bunch of polyps on her uterine walls, found some more in her fallopian tubes,” Vixen murmured quietly. “They did the tests and found out they were malignant. Cancer. Roland couldn’t deal with it; said it had to be a judgement from God for her sinful ways, for seducing him when he was still married to Valerie.”

Lowell remembered the shouting, the declaration that this was a judgement from God. He remembered the anger, the crying, the stony silences. Then his mother was gone and they moved to Stepping Stone, Louisiana.

The minute I found out about her cancer, I called her; she’d gone back to her momma’s house and begged her to come live here,” Vixen said. “Passion, you remember that? Every Tuesday? We’d get in the car and go up to Salt Lake? To the hospital?”

“Yeah,” Passion smiled softly. “I always got a Happy Meal.”

“And told all the nurses your ABCs and how high you could count,” Vixen smiled softly.

“So, my Mom…” Lowell tried to ask, but the words got stuck in his throat.

“If that fat ass Omnisted had done his God damned job, you’d still have a Momma, and I’d still have my best friend,” Vixen said angrily. “But, no, Sweetheart. Trudy, Jesus, it was just too far gone.”

Lowell gently put his half full glass onto the small coaster. The silence hung heavily in the room. With a sigh, Vixen got to her feet. She indicated Lowell’s glass.

“You finished?” she asked softly.

“I, yes ma’am,” Lowell said, moving to hand her the glass.

Passion deftly intercepted the glass and drained it in one long gulp. Vixen shook her head and smirked at her daughter. Then she carried the three glasses toward the kitchen.

“Show Lowell where the two of you will be sleeping tonight,” Vixen ordered.

“I, uh, we’re still, we’re in the same room?” Lowell asked, surprised.

“Of course,” Vixen said. “Why not?”

“Uh, I, uh, because we’re brother and sister?” Lowell supplied.

“Lowell, did you already forget where she came from?” Vixen laughed.

Lowell didn’t say anything, just grabbed the heaviest pieces of their luggage. He followed Passion down a hallway to a doorway to the right.

The room was in an advanced state of disarray. The bed was unmade, the comforter was more on the floor than on the bed. There were piles of clothing strewn about on the bed and on the floor. Passion’s condominium was untidy and cluttered much of the time, but this squalor was surprising. What was not surprising was that red was the primary color, everywhere Lowell looked, there was something red.

“Wow, how’d you manage to find that sandwich in here?” Lowell asked.

“Surprising, isn’t it?” Vixen asked from the doorway of the room.

“I was in a hurry,” Passion weakly offered.

“A hurry to do what? Avoid the oncoming tornado?” Lowell asked, looking around at the destruction.

“Oh shut up; like you’re so much better?” Passion asked heatedly.

“With Roland Truesdale watching his every movement? I bet Lowell is a whole lot better,” Vixen said. “Good night you two; it’s been a long day for me.”

“Okay, which of these piles are clean; which are dirty?” Lowell said, taking charge.

Within twenty minutes, the room had been tidied up. Lowell even had Passion find another set of sheets for the queen sized bed.

“Those are fine,” Passion said, aggravated.

“Passion, there was a spot where the sandwich had been,” Lowell said. “Yeah, it was fine for you; the spot was on my side of the bed. Now, where’s the bathroom; I need to pee.”

The bathroom was directly across the hall from Passion’s room. Lowell took the time to brush his teeth and change out of his clothes into the tee shirt and gym shorts he’d packed. Even though Lilah had put a pair of pajamas into his footlocker when he wasn’t looking, Lowell did not wear pajamas.

Returning to the room, Lowell saw that Passion had turned off the harsh overhead light. The room was illuminated by a soft light from her bedside lamp. Passion lay on the bed, posing seductively in a red satin teddy.

“Close the door,” Passion husked, then licked her lips.

Even as his cock hardened, Lowell shook his head. He approached his side of the bed and sat down.

“Passion, we’re, I mean, shit! You didn’t hear your mother? We, we’re brother and sister,” Lowell stammered.

“Uh huh?” Passion asked, crawling to him.

Lowell knew he should push her away. This was wrong. But her arms wound around his neck, her satin covered breasts pressed against him and her sweet breath and soft tongue filled his mouth.

“Oh, Baby,” Passion moaned as Lowell’s hands gripped her heavy breasts.

When Lowell’s clothes joined Passion’s teddy on the floor, they swung into a sixty nine, Passion’s blonde tuft above Lowell’s mouth. Passion managed to swallow Lowell down to the base. He jerked when she began to hum; her throat sent shock waves throughout his body.

“Mm hmm!” Passion enthused as Lowell’s teeth nipped at her clitoris.

Passion was quick to orgasm. She released his cock and grunted and thrashed in orgasm. When she caught her breath, she gripped his hard cock in her small hand, swung her leg up and then squatted onto his hard cock.

“Yyeess!” she hissed out as he slid up into her.

“I love you,” Passion moaned, falling forward and kissing him hotly.

“Love you too,” Lowell groaned as her pussy squeezed and milked his cock in a velvet glove.

After another kiss, Passion pushed herself upright. Lowell pinched, twisted and tugged at her nipples. Then, as Passion bucked and ground against him, Lowell reached down and briskly rubbed Passion’s clitoris.

What followed were unintelligible grunts and barks and growls. Passion bucked mightily when Lowell pinched her clitoris between thumb and middle finger.

“Augh, aw shit,” Lowell cried out and spurted into Passion’s pussy.

“Good night, brother,” Passion giggled when she’d caught her breath.

“Passion, Sweetheart, seriously, you, you’re not worried about…” Lowell asked.

“What? Lowell, what’s done is done,” Passion said, cuddling up against him. “We’re already lovers. We stop, that going change anything? It going make it like we weren’t ever lovers?”

“No, but Passion, we didn’t know. Now we do,” Lowell said, exasperated with her nonchalant attitude.

“Yeah,” Passion giggled and kissed him hotly.

She put her head on his chest, her hand lazily trailing along his sweating flesh. Lowell’s hand found its way to her smooth back. He traced along her spine.

“Kind of, kind of made it hot, didn’t it? Knowing you’re fucking your own sister?” Passion giggled.

She stretched up and kissed him again. She bit down on his lower lip then kissed him a third time before putting her head on his chest again.

Lowell’s hand found its way to her buttocks. He gave each hillock a good squeeze, then trailed his finger into the furrow that separated her cheeks.

“Knowing you’re my brother; knowing you were shooting your sperm up into me? God, that was intense,” Passion confessed.

“Uh, yeah, speaking of sperm, shooting up in you,” Lowell said, fingertip grazing over her little rosebud. “You did bring them Morning After pills, right?”

Passion didn’t answer him. She gave his muscular chest a kiss, playfully bit his nipple, then kissed his chest again before rolling away. She grabbed two pillows and lay down.

“Come hold me,” she ordered, wiggling her butt against him.

Lowell reached over her and clicked off her lamp. Then he did press against her back. His crotch mashed against her butt. His hand went to her full breasts.

“Hey, I just thought of something,” Passion giggled. “I’m your big sister.”

“Know you’re about as bossy as a big sister,” Lowell agreed.

“Love you. Love you so much,” Passion murmured.

“Love you too,” Lowell agreed and kissed her on her shoulder.

The next day, Lowell met Vixen’s harem of Persian cats. Queenie had just delivered four kittens and hissed mightily when Lowell approached her domicile. Sultan decided he liked the stranger and followed Lowell, meowing loudly until Lowell crouched down and scratched his head, then rubbed his luxurious pelt. He meowed, fussing when Lowell stopped.

“Hey, buddy, my hand’s ’bout to fall off,” Lowell said. “Go find something to scratch up, huh?”

“Oh, you saw his door, did you?” Vixen smiled, pointing to the door’s lower façade where there were several gouge marks.

In total, Vixen had six females she bred, with four males to sire the litters. Even though she kept the barn relatively clean, Lowell’s eyes were still watering by the time he, Passion and Vixen left the structure.

“You get used to it,” Passion assured him.

“But that is why I take the kittens into the house when I show them to any buyers,” Vixen admitted.

“And those nine will be ready for Christmas?” Passion asked.

“Couldn’t have timed them better if I tried,” Vixen agreed. “Oh. Wait. I did try.”

At the door, Vixen kissed both Passion and Lowell. She opened the door of her Lamborghini.

“I’m off to see a client,” she said. “You two behave yourselves, you hear?”

“Come on,” Passion giggled, pulling Lowell down the hall.

‘Pregnant & Horny’ showed a very pregnant Passion giggling as three naked men undressed her. Lowell had to shake his head and remind himself, that was not Passion on the fifty two inch LCD screen but a much younger Vixen Trueblue. Watching the attractive blonde with large brown eyes taking all three cocks at the same time had Lowell’s cock rock hard.

“Like this?” Passion giggled and fished his throbbing erection from his jeans.

She barely had her mouth fully around his erection before Lowell stiffened, cursed, then flooded her mouth with his semen. Passion swallowed it all. When he finished, she kissed his wilting cock.

“Fair’s fair,” Passion said, wiggling out of jeans and panties.

She spread her legs wide and Lowell knelt on the floor between her splayed legs. She didn’t take long before she was grinding her pussy against Lowell’s face.

“Stuff is pretty hot, huh?” Passion giggled, patting Lowell’s renewed erection.

Vixen Trueblue admitted she’d lost count of how many videos she’d actually done. By the time Lowell and Passion heard the door from the garage slam shut, Lowell assumed they’d seen the majority of her starring roles.

“What have you two been doing?” Vixen asked, coming into the living room. “Who’s ready for a drink?”

“How’d it go?” Passion asked.

“Hmm?” Vixen asked, pouring a few ounces of gin into her glass.

“With your client?” Lowell asked.

“Hmm? Oh, same old stuff,” Vixen shook her head. “Some idiot’s trying to break through the client’s firewall. Anyway, I left a little surprise for the hacker. Next time he sends out an interrupt? He’s going to get the DC One.”

“She designed a bug that not only ruins their hard drive, it gets into their entire networking system,” Passion confided to Lowell. “So, even if they get a whole new computer? Minute they hook it up to their old network? It’s going down. They have to tear out the entire network, cables and all to get rid of the virus.”

“Ingenious,” Lowell praised.

“Thank you, thank you,” Vixen preened, bowing.

(In a basement in Washington D.C., a man nervously informed his supervisors that he had not been able to crack the files of Falgout Film Studios; they had no verification whether or not a certain senator was a Diamond member of the studio’s On-Line hosting site. They had no verification that the senator was downloading porn of fresh faced young men sucking the cocks of older men, and getting fucked by older men. The government employee was, however, able to verify that the ‘DC-1’ Virus was no myth. It truly did exist.)

Thanksgiving Day, Vixen, Passion, and Lowell went to the home of Donald and Marie Fatheree for a traditional Thanksgiving Day feast. Vixen confessed that she was not much of a cook, but Marie Fatheree was.

“In fact, Lowell, her mother, Cindy Falgout? Was from Louisiana so Marie knows all about Cajun cooking,” Vixen said.

“Oh boy,” Lowell smiled uncertainly.

In Lowell’s experience, most people that claimed to know how to cook Cajun dishes usually just put too much cayenne pepper into their food. True, some Cajun dishes are a little spicy, but dumping a tablespoon onto a French fry and calling that ‘Cajun’ was not Cajun cooking.

Meeting Donald Fatheree, Lowell had a vague notion he’d seen the handsome man before. Marie was a stunning brunette with calf length brown curls and sweet smile.

“Oh, shit,” Lowell muttered when Donald and Vixen kissed in a very familiar manner.

He had seen Donald Fatheree and Vixen in a recent movie. The handsome, muscular man possessed an impressive tool, and had used that tool on all three of Vixen’s holes.

There were some other guests, some Lowell recognized as porn actors and actresses. Passion knew most of these people by name; Lowell was the stranger in the group.

“Man! Hope I done made enough yeah,” Marie fussed, counting the heads.

“Uh huh,” Vixen giggled. “Every year? You say that. And every year, we all go home with leftovers.”

Marie shot Vixen a wide smile and disappeared into the kitchen again. Lowell wondered if the beautiful brunette knew her husband had done a few movies with Vixen. He didn’t think he could be friendly with anyone that had recently had sex with Passion.

Donald offered a blessing, then the feeding frenzy began. Lowell was thrilled to discover that Marie did know Cajun cooking and spices. Her stuffing was perfection, her mashed potatoes and giblet gravy was spectacular, and the deep fried turkey was crisp on the outside, moist, tender and perfectly seasoned on the inside.

The conversation was lively, animated, and punctuated with laughter. Lowell was surprised that the majority of these people did not use vulgarities as they talked. And none of them talked about their jobs; Lowell knew that the majority of the young men that frequented the halls of Myndee University would be openly bragging about being porn actors.

True to Vixen’s predictions, everyone was sent home with a paper plate of food. Lowell carefully carried his and Passion’s dinners, careful not to tilt the plastic wrapped plates.

“Okay, who needs a drink?” Vixen asked the moment they were in the Trueblue home. “I know Donald quit drinking, but that doesn’t mean the rest of the world has to quit.”

After cocktails, Passion told Lowell he was very tired, too tired to watch any football games and dragged him to her bedroom.

“I thought I was tired,” Lowell teased as Passion energetically stripped out of sweater and blue jeans.

“Oh, you are,” Passion agreed, pushing him onto the bed. “Very, very tired. You need to just lay there.”

She mounted him and began to energetically bounce up and down on him. She cooed when Lowell delivered a stinging slap to her backside.

Vixen was not around when Passion and Lowell wandered to the kitchen. Her plate of leftovers was not in the refrigerator; obviously Vixen had the same idea as Passion and Lowell had now. After reheating the food, Passion and Lowell padded back to her bedroom and gorged themselves.

“Hmm, wonder what she wants?” Passion asked Lowell as she saw a call from Kitty’s dormitory on her cell phone.

“How you know it’s her? I mean, after I put your phone number in every bathroom on campus?” Lowell asked.

“You did not,” Passion laughed and kissed him. “You’re right, it might not be her, but she’s the only girl I know lives in the dorm.”

The voice mail identified the caller as Kitty Truehart. Lowell rolled his eyes as Passion smiled in triumph.

Kitty confessed, she was once again hopelessly lost in Statistics. She would have called Lowell, but had thrown his phone number away.

“Yes, I have Lowell’s phone number,” Passion agreed, softly stroking Lowell’s erection. “Or, I can just hand the phone to him; he’s right here.”

Lowell gently removed Passion’s hand from his cock as he took her cell phone. She pouted and he smiled as he greeted Kitty.

“Well, we’ll be back ’bout four on Saturday,” Lowell mused aloud.

“We’ll swing by the dorm, about five,” Passion said then put her mouth on the head of Lowell’s cock.

“We’ll pick you up…” Lowell said, trying desperately to keep his voice neutral while Passion’s tongue tickled his sensitive flesh.

“I heard her,” a very relieved Kitty giggled.

Kitty ended the call. Lowell delivered a very stinging slap to Passion’s buttocks and she moaned.

Saturday morning, Vixen and Passion both cried through breakfast, through the ride to the airport, through the paging to board the airplane. Vixen did manage a hearty laugh when Lowell assured her, they’d left no food in Passion’s room.

“We even made the bed,” Passion smiled through her tears.

“Only because Lowell made you,” Vixen retorted.

When they pulled up to Kitty’s dormitory, the blonde was waiting outside for them. Kitty got into the rear of Passion’s SUV and did not ask where they were going. When she saw that they were in front of Passion’s condominium, she became very tense.

Lowell noticed Kitty’s defensive posture and tried to reassure the young lady that they were here to study. There would be no hanky-panky, no funny business.

Excalibur, in true cat fashion, could not be bothered to greet Passion and Lowell when they entered the condo. He did greet Kitty, for a brief moment, then disappeared into the recesses of the second floor.

“My cat used to be my cat,” Passion said as she made a pot of coffee. “Then Lowell comes along and all of a sudden, my cat’s this giant homo.”

“Hey! Don’t be talking about my lover like that,” Lowell said and Passion giggled.

By the time Lowell had Kitty somewhat caught up, somewhat understanding the material, Kitty had relaxed. She was even agreeable to ordering a giant Hog Wild pizza from Benito’s Pizza. Lowell agreed with Passion; Benito’s was no Sloane’s Pizzeria, but it was eons better than Pizza Hut.

But when Passion prepared to leave, and Kitty realized she would be alone, with Lowell, the beautiful blonde began to panic. Lowell offered to go to Benito’s instead.

By the time he returned, Passion and Kitty were squealing and laughing. And, Excalibur made an appearance, demanding a plate of food.

“Daddy, he hasn’t had any of his special food all week,” Passion reminded Lowell.

“And it hasn’t hurt him one bit,” Lowell countered, but dug out a can of the smelly food for the beast.

“Anita? My roommate? She always gets the supreme; got onions and mushrooms,” Kitty said, chomping through her first slice.

“Tells me Anita is one nasty person,” Lowell said. “I’d have to put a pillow over her face while she’s sleeping.”

“Yeah, who did that to me last night?” Passion asked.

“Uh, you was snoring,” Lowell defended.

“Lowell Albert Truesdale! I do not snore!” Passion squealed, horrified. “You take that back!”

“Oh. Okay, then it was the frog in your pocket,” Lowell shrugged.

“I do not,” Passion protested, grabbing a second slice of pizza.

“Oh, okay, then you was just sleeping pretty loud,” Lowell said.

“You got a dorm room, don’t you?” Passion asked. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure you do. Maybe it’s time you slept over there. I mean, wouldn’t want my sleeping too loud to keep you up.”

“Aw, isn’t that cute?” Lowell teased. “Our first fight.”

“Won’t think it’s too cute when I tell you it’s our last fight too,” Passion grumbled.

“Uh huh,” Lowell said. “Kitty? Statistics the only class holding you up?”

“Pretty much,” Kitty said. Acing English, um, Sociology, Micro-Biology.”

Passion did not make Lowell spend the night at his dorm. But she was in no mood to make love either. And Lowell’s recording of Passion’s deep, guttural snoring on his cell phone did not earn him a good morning fuck either.

On Monday, Lowell did stop by his dormitory building. His mailbox had two letters. One was from Mindy, the other was from Gail. Both sisters admitted that they’d missed him over their Thanksgiving holiday. Mindy also let him know she was finding her senior year quite difficult; everyone expected her to repeat Lowell’s excellent academic career.

“Aw!” Passion cooed over Gail’s childish scrawl and her words of love.

Mindy’s words made Passion frown, though. Not having any siblings, Passion really didn’t grasp the dynamics of sibling rivalry.

Lowell sat down and wrote letters to his sisters. He addressed them to Mrs. Begnell’s address. Passion noticed the slight discrepancy in the addresses.

“Send it to the trailer, my dad reads it. And, if he things they don’t need to see it, he tears them up,” Lowell explained.

“God! Our daddy’s a bit of a control freak, huh?” Passion asked.

“No, Sweetheart,” Lowell sighed. “Our daddy’s a LOT of a control freak.”

The last day of exams, Kitty found Passion and Lowell in front of the dorm, packing the few remaining items Lowell had left in his dorm room. She hugged both Passion and Lowell, and thanked Lowell for his help in Statistical Analysis.

“So, what time’s the bus picking you up?” Lowell asked.

“How’d you know I was taking the bus?” Kitty asked, defensive.

“Remember? We rode the bus up together?” Lowell suggested.

“Oh! Oh yeah,” Kitty relaxed. “Saturday. I got to be out the dorm by Friday.”

“Someone must have really fucked her up,” Passion observed as Kitty hurried to her own dormitory.

“Someone, or a bunch of some ones,” Lowell agreed. “Come on, I know you haven’t noticed, being from Podunk, Utah, but it’s flipping cold out here.”

“Polanski is not Podunk,” Passion protested. “And, yeah, I know it’s flipping cold out here. I’m not stupid.”

Lowell would have gladly just let his father wonder if the prodigal son would be returning home for the semester break, or at least for Christmas. He finally decided the considerate, and Christian thing to do would be to let his father, his family know he would be spending all of his semester break, including Christmas with his girlfriend and her mother.

“By the way, Father?” Lowell wrote on the post card. “Do you know a Victoria Truesdale? From Utah?”

“No, I do not know any Victoria Truesdale, from Utah or anywhere else,” Roland wrote, sending the post card to the post office box Lowell had rented. “By the way, I would like your phone number, if you have one.”

“Oh, thank goodness; I’m dating her daughter,” Lowell responded. “Since it looks like it’s getting pretty serious, would hate for there to be any first or second cousin stuff popping up.”

“You are so mean! Looks like it’s getting pretty serious, huh?” Passion giggled, kissing Lowell.

“Mm hmm,” Lowell agreed, returning her kiss.