Porn Star’s Daughter

The walk to the main office was the longest I’d ever taken.

My mind reeled from the impact of finally registering what Simone had said. Two people in three days. Andrew didn’t know about Tracy, so Tracy must have told Simone.

The hallway tilted back and forth, like I had just stepped into a funhouse with slanted floors. The nurse had said I could take my time and stay as long as I needed, and I was beginning to think that I should have taken her up on that offer.

As it was, I tried to force myself to take my time, wanting to get my facts in order and my thoughts whole. I struggled to figure out what to focus on. Tracy had given my arch-enemy critical information that could only have meant to hurt me. But why? Was I that bad of a lover?

All I had were questions. Nothing made sense, everything seemed to be off-kilter. Up ahead was the main office, and I pointed one foot in front of the other towards what I knew was going to be both traumatic and stress-inducing.

Simone was in the office there, and instead of wanting to rip her face off like I did only a half hour before, I wanted to interrogate her. My imagination played with me. I wanted to tie her to a hard metal stool under a single 40-watt bulb and beat her with every question.

How do you know Tracy?

What did she tell you?

Why did she tell you anything?

What is your fucking problem!?

Likewise, I wanted to call Tracy and find out the same answers. It made no sense to me. Everything had changed so fast. On Saturday, we had gotten along so well, bonded as if we were sisters. My father had wanted us to get along, and we had.

I never got along with anyone so well, and never so fast. Tracy was a perfect dream girl, someone that I admired and looked up to. She seduced me so impeccably that I didn’t even know what was happening, and slipped into feeling comfortable with her so easily that it was as natural as breathing. It was mind-boggling.

My god how quickly that all changed. It hadn’t even been 48 hours since I had lost my virginity to her, had tasted my first woman, had fucked the dildo beyond my wildest imagination. I thought we were going to push even more envelopes, open up more boundaries.

She was going to be my teacher.

What had gone wrong? What had I done? Nothing I could come up with, no mistake I could have made should have turned her against me in this way. It just didn’t make sense.

As I walked – or should I say, staggered – onward, I continued to fight my rising panic and come up with just one single answer. Try as I might, nothing fell into place, and I felt myself being frustrated by my inability to piece together this nightmare. Unfortunately, I still had no solutions by the time I made it to the main office.

I went up to the counter. “Hello, Shannon,” Mrs. Alvarez, the portly secretary greeted me. She was a kind woman and had always helped me whenever I needed it. Her voice was stern, but you could see a glimpse of sympathy behind her reproachful eyes.

“Hello, Mrs. Alvarez,” I recited. I then added, “Heard any good rumors, lately?”

“Come on,” she said, a brief smile cracking through her demeanor. “I’ll take you back.”

I walked around the counter and she escorted me to the Dean of Students’ office. As we approached, I heard shouting coming from behind the door. Mrs. Alvarez hesitated only for a moment, glanced at me, and gave me a wan smile. Then, she knocked on the door.

“Come in,” a weary voice called.

Mrs. Alvarez opened the door to reveal a very tired Mr. Hopkins, Dean of Students, and three extremely angry women, one of whom was my mother. Despite my predicament, I couldn’t help but feel for the man.

“Come in,” Mr. Hopkins repeated.

In the small office, four chairs had been placed in a semi-circle in front of his desk. One chair remained empty on the far right, on the other side of my mother. I looked at Simone, who gave me a smirk of defiance that I wanted to slap off her delicate features.

“Please have a seat,” Mr. Hopkins said.

“Yeah,” Simone snarled. “Have a seat, Shannon.”

“That’ll be enough, Simone,” Mr. Hopkins said.

Simone’s mother turned to her and swatted her thigh. “Behave yourself, you little bitch!” she snarled.

“That won’t be necessary, Mrs. Tiller,” Mr. Hopkins said, flinching.

“Ms. Tiller,” she corrected him. She brushed her hair out of her face, and I got a better look at her now. She wavered a little in the chair, and I began to wonder if she was even sober. She looked somewhat familiar, but I couldn’t place her. Then again, she looked like almost every other middle-aged woman who hadn’t quite accepted that she was middle-age.

I turned and looked at my mother then, who was as white as a sheet. Just like the previous night, she wouldn’t look me straight in the eye. It was a look of abject fear and dread, and I glanced down and saw her hands clasped in her lap, knuckles white. I suddenly got scared for her.

Now you’ve done it! Team Morality said. You’ve fucked up your chance to get into college, and all the hard work your mother has done to raise you has gone out the window!

That wasn’t true, and I knew it. I had pretty much been raising myself for the past several years, but the guilt factory had gone into overtime.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” I whispered, and put a hand on her arm. She didn’t move, and she didn’t look at me. Her lip quivered.

Oh shit. I knew what that meant.

“As all of you know,” Mr. Hopkins recited, as if this was a speech he had given dozens of times before, “we have a zero-tolerance policy at this school. Each student and their parents are required to read and sign a Code-of-Conduct form at the beginning-”

“What the fuck?” Simone shouted at him. “Why am I in trouble? I’m the victim here!”

“Simone,” Mr. Hopkins said, calmly. “Please settle down.”

“She attacked me!” Simone yelled.

My mother turned to look at me. “Is this true?” she asked, quietly.

I nodded.

She thought for a moment. “Is she the girl you were talking about this morning?”

I nodded again.

She mirrored my movements, understanding dawning on her face. “I see,” she said.

What? What do you see? I couldn’t read her face. There was something going on here. She wasn’t acting the way she normally would. Why won’t anyone tell me anything?!

“Mr. Hopkins,” Simone’s mother said, her voice changing to a sweet, almost seductive drawl. “It appears that there is some bad blood between the girls, it’s true.”

My mother reacted to that. She shot Ms. Tiller a look, who caught it and smiled lasciviously back at my mother. I caught it, but wasn’t sure what it meant.

“But the case seems pretty clear, here,” she continued, twirling her blonde hair with her fingers. Holy fuck, she’s flirting with him! “My daughter is innocent in all of this.”

“Innocent, my ass,” I muttered under my breath.

My mother nudged me.

“I don’t see why she needs to be punished for being attacked,” Ms. Tiller concluded.

“Ms. Tiller,” Mr. Hopkins began.

“Christine,” she said, smiling. Did she just push her breasts out a little?

“Ms. Tiller,” Mr. Hopkins repeated, and I had to put my hand to my mouth to hide a smile as she deflated. “The rules are very clear. No fighting. Zero tolerance.”

“This is so unfair,” Simone complained.

“What are you talking about?” I exclaimed. “You have been bullying me for weeks!”

“Shanny,” my mother put her hand on my arm, trying to get me to calm down.

“Shannon,” Mr. Hopkins turned to me. “It is not necessary to shout.”

“Not necessary?” I felt my emotions ramping up for take-off. “She’s the one who has been doing all kinds of shit to me. She’s the one who…”

I stopped, and everyone was looking at me with interest. An evil smile crept across Simone’s face. Go ahead, Shannon, it seemed to say. Tell them. Tell them everything that I’ve done.

I swallowed. “She’s the one who started it,” I finished weakly.

Simone cocked her head, that evil fucking smile growing wider. “What?” she asked with fake innocence. “All I did was give you back your litter.”

I stood up at that moment, ready to attack her again. At the same time, everyone else stood up too, my mother holding me back, and Ms. Tiller trying to hold Simone away from me. At that moment, I realized that she was, in fact, drunk, and Simone could have pushed her over easily.

At that moment, the door opened, and my father stood in the doorway, looking larger than life. I had never seen him so unhappy, and all of my aggression disappeared in a moment.

He looked around the room, a pained expression on his face. He said nothing, just stood there. Out of the corner of my eye I saw my mother’s eyes watering, until a single tear seemed to race across her cheek and fall on her blouse.

Finally, he looked at me, but still said nothing. I opened my mouth to speak, but Simone beat me to the punch.

“Hello, Daddy.”

What did she say? I looked from my Simone to my father and back again. Wait, what did she fucking say?!

Simone had a look on her face that I had never seen before: adoration. Her entire being lit up like a neon sign when she saw him, even under the unfortunate circumstances. I had never seen her like this, so alight with joy to see him.

My entire world spun out of control in that moment.

I didn’t know where to look. I scanned the room from him, to her, to my mother, unable to breathe. No one in the room seemed to move, or even be shocked by her words. Like Alice in Wonderland, I felt myself falling into a rabbit hole, downward, spiraling out of control. I felt like I was about to faint.

Why did she call him “Daddy?” Why didn’t anyone correct her? Why is nobody reacting at all?

I stared at him, willing him to contradict her. Tell her, I thought at him desperately. Tell her she’s full of shit. Tell her she’s mistaken. Tell her!

My father looked at her, and said none of these things. Instead, he turned to look at me, a sad expression crossing his features.

My mother gasped out a sob.

Oh my god. I sat in the chair with a hard crash, the legs skidding on the tile floor with a loud scrape.

I looked at Ms. Tiller again, and then my world spun completely out of control. Ms. Tiller – Christine – was the blonde girl from the video. The porn video. The video where she had taken my father’s penis into her ass.

I hadn’t recognized her at first. The years had not been nearly as kind to her as they had to my mother or Tracy. But now, seeing her in the same room with my father and Simone, the resemblance now clicked.

Simone had called my father, “Daddy.” If that was true, that…

That meant…

That meant that she… was my sister.

I felt a rush in my ears, and suddenly the world started to turn. The walls seemed to fold in on themselves and Mr. Hopkins’ desk seemed to float into the air. My vision closed in like elevator doors, and then I had an up-close view of the ceiling. Or was it floor? Maybe I was in outer space.

I fainted.

There was no way to tell how long I was out. When I came to, I was lying in the back seat of my father’s truck, my head in my mother’s lap. The smell of tools and wood and metal flooded my senses.

“What?” I asked. “Where am I?”

“Shhhh,” my mother said, keeping me still. “Don’t move. Relax.”

It was difficult to get my bearings. I could see my father driving, but where was he taking us?

“My car,” I muttered. “I’ve got to get my car.”

“Don’t worry about your car,” my father said. “We’ll go pick it up later.”

I thought about Simone and Heather vandalizing my car, and knew that I had to get back to it before that happened.

Simone, that bitch.

I sat bolt upright, despite my mother’s attempts to keep me horizontal.

Simone.

“Wait, Simone,” I began, and tried once again to get my bearings. It wasn’t working. “What is going on?” I demanded.

I looked at my mother, and noticed that she had been crying. A lot. Her makeup was almost completely gone, and what little that remained was nothing more than smudges and smears.

“We’re taking you home,” my father said, glancing at me in his rear-view mirror.

“That’s not what I mean,” I said, my voice gaining an edge.

“We’re here,” he said, ignoring my question.

He pulled up to the house, and we all got out as if we had just come from a funeral. No one said a word, the weight of our situation hanging over us like a ton of bricks.

Inside, my father dropped his keys on the kitchen counter, and stood with his back to me, his fingers pinching his nose.

“Michelle,” he said quietly. “You probably want to freshen up a little. I’ll make some tea.”

I expected my mother to argue with him, tell him off for giving her instructions in her own house. Instead, she simply nodded and went into her bedroom.

My father had spent enough time in the house to know where everything was, and went about making tea as if he lived there his whole life. I sat down at the kitchen table, watching him.

“Dad,” I began.

He stopped what he was doing, but didn’t look at me. “Let’s wait until your mother comes back,” he said.

“But Dad!” I argued.

“I promise,” he said after a while, his voice still sounding defeated. “We’ll explain everything.”

It was just as well. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say, anyway. I wanted to apologize for getting into a fight, wanted to understand what was happening with Simone, why everyone seemed to know about it but me.

The minutes dragged on like hours. I sat in anxious silence, wanting to know the truth but afraid to hear it at the same time. I thought back to what he had told me in the car – Promise me, he had said. I had promised. I thought back to what I had told Andrew earlier. “I keep my promises,” I had said.

Could I keep that promise now? You are going to have difficult times ahead, my mother had just told me that very morning. You are not prepared, but you have to be.

Something told me that this was what they were referring to, in their own ways. I felt myself begin to shake with fear and anxiety, my hands vibrating against the table. My father placed the cup of tea in front of me, and I held onto it with both hands in the hopes that the heat would settle me down. It didn’t work.

Finally my mother emerged from her bedroom, new makeup freshly applied. It brought her poise and grace, which I supposed she felt she needed. She sat down at the table, and gripped her mug of tea in the same way that I did.

No one said anything for a while, and then I asked the most logical question I could think of.

“Is it true?” I asked.

My father looked at my mother, who gave him a nod. She was apparently ready. Well, as ready as she would ever be.

“Is it true that Simone is… my sister?” I clarified.

My father nodded slowly. “She is your half-sister, yes,” he admitted. His voice was low, steady, and calm.

I didn’t feel calm, though. I wanted to throw the mug of hot tea in his face, and even contemplated doing it anyway.

I looked at my mother. “And you knew?” I asked.

She only looked at her tea, and nodded slowly.

I looked from my mother to my father, and said, “What the fuck?!”

That got a reaction from both of them. My mother was about to say something about my language, but I think guilt got the better of her, and she closed her mouth and remained silent.

“Shannon,” my father said. “There is a lot you don’t know-”

“Well that’s the understatement of the year!” I cried, no longer able to stay as cool and collected as I had hoped.

My father struggled to keep his calm, and somehow managed to succeed. “-and it’s going to be difficult to hear.”

He paused for too long. “Well?” I demanded. “Tell me, then!”

He swallowed. “There are some things that you do when you’re younger that you’re not proud of,” he said.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” I said in exasperation. I leaned back in my chair, waiting for the bullshit.

My father’s face clouded over. “Do you want to hear this, or not?” he said, his words laced with irritation.

“Fine, go on, then,” I said. Somehow I didn’t think he had the moral high ground here.

“As I was saying,” he started over. “When I was younger, I did things that seemed like a good idea at the time.”

My mother snorted, and drank her tea. My father glanced at her with a pleading look, and she returned to saying nothing.

“At the time, I was a bit wild and adventurous. I did a lot of things that I would never do now,” he said. “But the things you do have consequences.”

My mother stood up suddenly, and then went over to the counter and grabbed a box of tissues. She returned and put it on the table. I swallowed, knowing this was not a good sign. I hated it when my mother cried. It didn’t happen often, but when it did it broke my heart.

Then she pushed the tissue box in my direction.

Oh, no.

“One of those times,” he said, continuing, “resulted in two girls getting pregnant.”

“Mom and Ms. Tiller,” I said, trying to move this along.

My mother took a tissue.

“Ms. Tiller, yes,” my father confirmed. Wait, what about Mom?

I looked at her, but she only stared at her mug.

“Your mother,” Dad said slowly, “had a very rough pregnancy.”

Tears began to stream down my mother’s face, but she didn’t make a sound. Drops began to form at her jaw and chin, but she made no move to wipe them away. She looked paralyzed.

I looked back at my Dad. “She died during childbirth,” he said evenly.

I didn’t understand. “What?” I asked, looking at Mom. “What?”

The room began to spin again. I wondered if I was trapped in a horror movie, or if I was dreaming, or if someone had put drugs in the tea. Tunnel vision enclosed around me again, but I fought against it.

Don’t faint… don’t faint…

I closed my eyes and placed my palms flat against the table, trying to gain my balance from its level surface. After a few moments, I felt like it was safe to open my eyes again.

My mother looked at me then. “Zoey was my sister,” she said, the words choking her as she spoke them. “When she died, I…” she stopped, her voice cracked in a sobbing choke.

All of a sudden, I didn’t know if I could hear any more. I had wanted to know the truth, wanted to know everything, but now I wasn’t sure if I could deal with what they were about to reveal.

My father spared my mother the pain. He took a breath, and then tried to start over again. “Your mother – your birth mother, I mean – her name was Zoey. The doctors told her that if she took you to term, she would likely not make it,” my father said. “She made your mother promise to adopt you and raise you.”

Adopted? Raise me?

“You’re,” I said quietly, looking at my mother. “You’re not my real Mom?”

My father’s voice grew hard instantly. “She is your real mother, Shannon,” he growled, bringing me back to how he had reacted in the car when he thought I had disrespected her.

I recoiled as if I’d been hit. “No, I just meant…”

My mother reached out and put her hands on both my hand and my father’s. “I know what she meant,” she said, placating my father.
She turned to me. “Shannon,” she said. “It’s true that I’m not your birth mother. But I was there from the moment you were born, and when I took you in my arms that day I have been every bit your mother.”

She reached down and grabbed a couple of tissues and handed them to me. I looked at them, confused, and then took them and wiped my face. The tears had been coming down and I hadn’t even noticed.

I was adopted. There it was. It explained so much. It explained why I looked nothing like my mother, had none of her assets, grace, or poise. It explained why I was a klutz, and had none of her confidence, too.

A thought occurred to me. “So that’s why you two never married,” I said as the pieces fell into place. “You two never dated in the first place.”

“That’s right,” my mother said. She glanced at my father, who had calmed himself.

“So why didn’t you tell me?” I asked. “Why the big secret?”

My father took in a deep breath. “It’s complicated,” he said. “Zoey and Christine didn’t get along.”

My mother grunted in acknowledgment. From the little I’d seen of Simone’s mother in the Dean’s office, I didn’t find it hard to believe.

“As the pregnancies went on, the conflict between them got worse,” my father said. “Zoey had more and more health problems, and Christine became more and more demanding. Because of her health issues, I had to spend almost all of my time with Zoey and your mother, and Christine got jealous.

“She – Christine – thought that I would marry her,” my father continued. “That probably would have been the right thing to do, under the circumstances, if Zoey hadn’t gotten pregnant as well. Well, it may have been the right thing to do, but it would have wound up a complete disaster. I didn’t particularly like Christine very much, either.”

“And… Zoey?” I asked.

“I cared for Zoey very much,” my father said. “The more time I spent with her, the more I grew to love her.”

I glanced at my mother. She was watching my father intently, listening to every word with sharp focus.

Things were slowly falling into place. “So,” I said, trying to work out the puzzle aloud, “that’s why you and Tracy broke up.”

My mother started at that. She sat bolt upright and looked at my father with anger and hatred. “Tracy?” she demanded. “Tracy the Psychopath is back?”

Oh boy. I had really opened up a can of worms. I had simply assumed that I was the only one who didn’t know what was going on. I thought my mother knew that my father had started seeing Tracy again, and so I was completely taken aback by her outburst. Judging by her reaction, though, I could see why he would want to keep it from her.

She could see by the look on his face that it was true. “And you introduced my daughter to that insane bitch?” Her eyes were livid, a fire that seemed to ignite at a thousand degrees.

I recoiled from her vitriol. Apparently, the revelations were coming fast and furious for all of us.

“Michelle,” my father said, his voice sounding somewhere between a warning and a pleading for mercy.

My mother whirled on me. “Listen to me,” she said, her eyes still ablaze. “That woman is dangerous. She will stop at nothing and destroy your life just because she feels like it.”

“Michelle, please!” my father begged.

She turned back to him. “You know it’s true,” she said. “Look, I can’t stop you if you want to dip your dick in crazy, but you leave my daughter out of it.”

Her intent was obvious and clear. She did not want Tracy anywhere near me. The fact that she used such crass language was new to me, though, and seemed to underscore just how serious a threat she believed that Tracy posed.

“I introduced them for the first time this past weekend,” my father said. “They got along great.”

I marveled at the simplicity of that statement, and yet how much it concealed. It had only been two days. Two fucking days, and ever since I met Tracy my entire world had been turned into a knot.

My mother turned to me. “Before you were born-” she began.

My father tried to cut her off. “Michelle, she doesn’t need to know-”

“Before you were born,” my mother repeated, interrupting my father. “Tracy did everything in her power to mess things up. Part of the reason why you were never told is because she made things so bad between your father and Zoey and Christine, and then you and Simone after you were born, that it was just best if your father step back and treat you girls equally.”

“Equally?” I asked, confused.

“Christine made it difficult,” my father said after a moment, and gave in to continuing the story. “Before Simone was born, she started drinking, even though she was pregnant. She blamed me for ruining her life, and all she wanted was for me to pay child support. The money went into alcohol, mostly, and Simone found herself at her grandparents’ house for long periods of time.

“I didn’t want to subject you to that,” he said, his own eyes starting to turn red. He turned to Michelle. “Nor you. You gave up everything, your acting career, your boyfriend, to take care of Zoey’s child.”

His lip started quivering. “I don’t blame you for hating me, Michelle,” he said after a moment. “I’m sorry that I ruined that for you.”

I saw a break in my mother’s anger. She looked at me, and then back at my father. “You didn’t ruin my life,” she said softly. “You gave me my Shanny.”

All of us knew that while that was true, she had held her shift in fortunes against him for all these years. That was something that was going to probably have to take a few years of therapy to get past.

Hell, I think we needed a few decades of therapy. Especially me.

“Anyway,” my father said, clearing his throat and trying to remain stoic. “I was trying to be as fair as I could. I had to juggle you and Simone, but I didn’t want to add to your mother’s burden and Christine was a nightmare.”

I thought of Simone growing up in that household, with a mother that was an alcoholic and a father that couldn’t be there. “The best thing to do was keep you two as separate as possible,” he said.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” I asked.

My mother and father looked at each other. “Originally, we were,” my mother said. “After a while, though, it didn’t look like it would really be necessary. You and your dad had your own routine, and things were working well by not bringing them into our lives.”

I wasn’t sure how to take that bit of candor. On the one hand, I understood it. On the other, though, it felt crude and unfair. “Don’t you think I deserve to know that I had a sister?” I asked, my voice sounding a little harsh.

“Yes,” my father said. “And now it’s clear that we erred on the wrong side.”

My mother looked at my father. “We made a mistake in not telling her,” he translated. My mother nodded, now understanding.

“How come Simone knew, and I didn’t?” I asked, my voice demanding.

My father looked back at me. “Until an hour ago,” he said, “I had no idea she knew.”

I suppressed a shudder. If he hadn’t told Simone, that meant that Tracy had. If Tracy had told Simone, when did she tell her? Could that be the reason why Simone suddenly started tormenting me?

“Did Simone meet Tracy?” my mother asked, as if she read my mind.

My father nodded. “Simone visited so that we could celebrate her birthday about a month or so ago,” he said. “And I introduced them.”

My mother cocked her head in shock. “And you didn’t think that Tracy would tell Simone?” She sounded incredulous.

“Tracy had promised not to…” his voice trailed off. It seemed that he was learning his own surprises. “Oh god,” he mumbled.

The weight of these revelations were making my head spin. My mother obvious hated Tracy, and it began to dawn on me that Tracy had been pulling more than just my strings.

So many secrets and lies. It was hard to tell which end was up. I needed to fight the urge to run to my room and hide. I felt completely unprepared to handle this.

Which is exactly what your mother said to you this morning, Team Morality reminded me.

Promise me that no matter what – no matter what – you will know that everything I’ve done, I’ve done because I love you so very much. I was starting to understand what he meant by that.

He loves you very much. Much more, in fact, than the rest of us combined, Tracy had said. The rest of us. The rest of us.

Is that why Simone hated me so much? Because I had the love of my father, and she didn’t? That he saw her as an obligation, rather than loved her as a daughter?

She has everything, and thinks she’s so much better than the rest of us. Simone’s words from the bathroom conversation echoed in my head. The rest of us. She didn’t mean other kids in school, she meant it in the same way that Tracy had!

Wait. Had Tracy been coaching Simone? Had she put her up to everything?

I fought the chaos in my head to recall how Simone had looked at my father when he stood in the doorway at the Dean’s office. She had lit up, walls had come down – even if only for a brief moment. Could she have been attacking me out of jealousy? Did I have what she wanted all along, and just been taking it for granted?

It all was spinning out of control. She had given me the video, knowing that it was her own father’s porno. She must have watched it, too, must have seen her own mother getting fucked in the ass. What would that have been like for her?

Then there was the dildo. Where did she get that from?

Tracy, you idiot!

Fuck me, Tracy really was a psychopath. Why would Tracy have given it to Simone? Because she knew Simone had Daddy issues, that’s why. Simone had tried the dildo and had failed to take it far enough inside her. She must have been frustrated and angry, unable to get the time that she wanted with my father – her father – and still unable to even take comfort in being able to at least have the dildo for companionship.

But Tracy had been surprised to see it. That meant that Simone had taken her own initiative in ‘gifting’ it to me. Perhaps I was reading too much into this, but it all seemed to make sense. Simone truly hated me, Tracy had encouraged it, and the clues were starting to come together.

Almost at the same time, my father’s and mother’s phones began to ring. My father winced as he saw the caller ID, and he picked up the phone and walked into the other room.

My mother answered her phone at the same time. “Hello?” she asked. “Oh yes, Dean Hopkins. She’s feeling much better now.”

She paused as she listened to Dean Hopkins speak for a minute. “I understand. What does this mean for her graduation?”

My heart leapt into my throat as I watched her reaction. She closed her eyes, then opened them slowly. “I see. I will let her know. Thank you.”

She hung up the phone, and looked at me. “That was Mr. Hopkins,” she said. I fought down the urge to tell her that I knew that. “He said that the school is going to suspend you for two weeks.”

I swallowed. “And graduation?” I asked, fearing what she was about to say next.

“He said that your grades are good enough so that if you can maintain the work that is required during the suspension you shouldn’t have any problems graduating,” she said. I let out the breath that I had been holding. Being suspended for two weeks was bad enough, but having to take summer school and not graduate on time meant that my college timeline would be a threatened.

My father came back into the room. He looked particularly exhausted. “I have to go to Christine’s,” he told my mother.

I looked at my father. “Will you be coming back?” I asked. I felt as if there were still so much more to talk about. Now that the major secrets were out, what else hadn’t they told me? And what could they tell me about Zoey? What was she like?

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “I have to see what happens with Simone and her mother. Something tells me that it’s not going to go nearly as well as this conversation did.”

This conversation went well? I felt slighted. I felt as if I was the one owed explanations. I wanted him to tell the story over and over, to try to see if he changed it or if there were more secrets that needed to come out. I needed… more.

At the same time, I wanted to confront Tracy. She seemed to be the key to all of this. Just like I saw in the video –

The video. I never saw the whole video.

My mother’s phone buzzed. She looked at it, and sighed. “I have to go to work, too.”

She looked at me, and said, “I can call in and say that I can’t go,” she said, “if you need me to stay.”

I shook my head. “No,” I said. “I think I need to be alone for a while.”

My mother nodded, accepting my decision. In truth, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be alone or not. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to keep them there, just in case I wanted to scream at them later. I felt stunned and numb, and had no doubt that I was going to be dealing with some major roller coaster emotions pretty soon.

One thing I did know, however, was that I couldn’t watch the video or call Tracy with her in the house. For that, I really did need to be alone.

“Okay,” my mother said, and looked to my father. He didn’t seem to have much enthusiasm for leaving either. “We’ll talk more tonight when I get home from work.”

I nodded. “Okay,” I said, suddenly wanting both of them to leave in a hurry.

Soon enough, they were out the door and I was back in my room. I sat on my bed with the remote, but found it difficult to hit the play button after all. All of these surprises rocked me to the core, and I wasn’t sure which emergency to handle first.

I tried to reconcile the fact that my mother wasn’t actually my mother, but really my aunt. My father’s apology to her had told me so much, and I wracked my brains to try to remember what else he had said about her.

In any case, it was making so much more sense. My bio-mom, Zoey. Who was she? I knew she was my mother’s sister. I knew that she got pregnant around the same time as Christine. I knew that Simone was… my sister.

Simone. That bitch. The girl who referred to me as The Cunt. How could she have turned out to be my sister? It seemed like a great, cosmic joke. Yet at the same time, all my questions of why she had been bullying me seemed answered.

Her Daddy issues seemed to make mine look like mere passing fantasies. She had a full-blown Elektra complex.

I didn’t want to feel anything for Simone. She had tried – and succeeded, most likely – to destroy my reputation. When I went back to school, who knew what names I would be called. “Condom girl?” “Slut?” “Bathroom Boinker?” She had actively campaigned to ruin my life, make me depressed, and maybe even cause me to commit suicide.

That thought chilled me. Would she have done that to get me out of the picture? To have my father all to herself?

I shuddered at the thought, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. This wasn’t about her disliking me, or even hating me. Simone wanted to destroy me. And she would stop at nothing, and go through anyone, to do it.

Oh god, what about Andrew? I had kissed him before going into Mr. Rawlins’ classroom. People had seen that, and so they would know that he was the owner of the condom. I reached for my phone, but my heart sank when I saw that there was already a text waiting for me from him.

We need to talk, he said.

Oh, no. I knew what that meant. What could I possibly tell him? That my family was more fucked up than his was? A shudder crossed my body as I realized that Andrew would probably get called to the Dean’s office. It never occurred to me that he could get in trouble as well. And then he’d have to face his parents.

Girl, you have truly screwed the pooch, Team Morality tutted.

I looked at my phone. Come to my house after school, I texted. I’m not there any more.

I know, he responded. Send me your address.

I did. It was a long time before he texted me back. See you then.

I only had a couple of hours to go before he arrived, and wanted to put that time to good use. There was no time to cry or wallow in my own misery. I needed answers, and there were two leads that I had to explore.

I clicked on the play button and watched the video spin up, the TV flickering to life, and put it on mute. At the same time, I dialed Tracy’s number.

“Hi Shannon,” Tracy said.

“I suppose you heard,” I said, not bothering with any pleasantries.

“I did.”

There was a pause, and I suddenly didn’t know what else to say. “Why did you tell Simone that you and I had sex?” I asked. Might as well try the direct approach.

There was a second before she answered, “Is that really the question you want to ask, Shannon?”

“It’s one of many,” I said, defensively.

The video on the screen showed a short-haired brunette attempting to stuff my father’s cock down her mouth. Like the others thus far, she simply couldn’t do it.

“Well, then, if that’s the best you’ve got,” Tracy said, derisively. “Because I wanted to make her jealous.”

“Jealous? Why?” I asked, incredulous.

Tracy sighed. “Really, Shannon, I thought you were smarter than this.”

So did I, but I needed to hear it direct. “I guess I’m not,” I said, petulantly.

“I guess not too,” she said. “Shannon, Simone thinks you have taken her father from her. For her entire life, she had thought that your father avoided her because of her mother. Quite frankly, that’s partially true. Christine is a full-on bitch-and-a-half.

“It just so happened that I ‘accidentally’ let it slip that I had met you on Saturday,” she said as calmly as if she were ordering a pizza.

“Don’t you worry, though,” she continued. “I talked you up quite a bit. Even though you and I both know you still need some practice, I told her that you were absolutely amazing and the best woman I’d ever tasted.”

Holy shit. She’d had sex with Simone, too! She’d deliberately made Simone jealous. It’s no wonder that Simone was so pissed off and self-righteous in the bathroom this morning. Tracy had basically told her that she was being replaced by me. First she wasn’t ‘good enough’ for my father, and now she wasn’t ‘good enough’ for Tracy.

The girl on the screen was getting a gentle fucking from my father, his cock unable to fully penetrate her. I clicked on the fast forward button and watched as he plowed into her double-time.

“So, you told her that you and I had sex, you deliberately made her jealous, and so she wanted to get revenge,” I restated everything.

“Boy, are you quick on the draw,” Tracy said sarcastically.

“How long have you been having sex with her?” I asked.

“Nosy little bitch, aren’t you?” Tracy countered. “Just like you, Shannon. I fucked her on the night I met her. It was her birthday, after all.”

“And you gave her the video?” I asked.

“Oh, no,” Tracy said. “I merely told her that her mother had a copy. Simone found it all on her own.”

“And the dildo?”

“Well, yes, I did give her the dildo when she started getting curious about what it would feel like to have a dick that big,” Tracy said. “Apparently she didn’t have nearly as much success as you did.”

I was stunned. Tracy was completely okay with telling me everything. It was almost as if I got her monologuing like some evil villain in a movie. But I couldn’t stop myself.

“Wait a minute,” I said, thinking of something. “My father was upset because someone lost something. That wasn’t about work, was it?”

Tracy paused for a moment as she debated whether or not to tell me. “Yes,” she said, finally. “Christine called your father and told her that she had discovered the video missing. He took you home early so that he could go over to her house and help her look for it. Gotta tell you, Simone loved knowing that she got to take her Daddy away from you.”
The scene on the video changed. The interviewer asked my father a few more questions, and then the camera turned to the bed, revealing three figures.

Tracy. Christine. Punk Girl.

Punk Girl.

Punk Girl was Zoey.

My mouth dropped open as the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. On the screen, the girls pulled my father to the bed and lay him on his back.

My silence irritated Tracy. “Is there anything else you needed to know, Shannon?” she asked.

“Tell me why you broke up with my father,” I asked.

The question caught her off guard. “I already told you,” she said.

“No you didn’t,” I argued. “You talked around it. My father said that everything changed once Christine and Zoey got pregnant.”

“Ah, so he told you about that, did he?” she asked, and I began to wonder if I still didn’t know everything.

“Here’s the thing, Shannon,” Tracy said. “You probably think I’m the biggest bitch in the world right now, and I know your mother probably called me a sociopath.”

Psychopath, I thought, but who’s counting.

The video showed a full-blown orgy, pun intended. Christine looked like she was enjoying herself very much with my father’s cock in her mouth, and Punk Girl – I mean Zoey, I mean my biological mother – was riding on my father’s face, grinding away in ecstasy. Tracy was rubbing herself, watching the scene, occasionally moving over to kiss Punk Girl –

Zoey…

– or take a quick lick of my father’s shaft. Knowing more to the story, I realized that Tracy was in complete control of the situation. In her own way, she was directing the action.

“But you should know that I’ve never lied to you,” she continued. “Everything I told you about your father and me was true. Neither your father nor your mother can say the same thing.”

I watched the girls on the screen line up on all fours, their asses presented to my father. He brought them to the edge of the bed so that he could line up his cock with each of their pussies. Everyone was smiling and laughing, having a great time.

“The video was my idea,” Tracy said, cutting into my attention span. “I told you before, I was proud of what I had, and I wanted everyone to know that he was mine. So, I got some friends of mine and got them to make a porno.”

“You did the porno?” I asked, shocked. On the screen, my father lined up his dick to Redd’s pussy, and began to slide it forward. Redd’s mouth popped open in exaggerated joy, and then she looked at the other girls. There was something behind that look, but I couldn’t decipher it.

“Are you listening?” Tracy asked, irritated. “Yes, I did the porno. I got several of my friends and a couple other girls who were willing to be paid to be fucked within an inch of their lives. They didn’t believe me when I told them that my boyfriend’s dick could split them in two.”

My father withdrew, and moved behind Christine. He pressed his dick at her ass, and she nodded. I took a quick glance at Redd’s face, and saw her expression change a little. She kept a plastic smile on her face, but she found something about her boyfriend fucking another girl’s ass troublesome. Was that… envy?

“It was going so well,” Tracy said, now lost in her memory. “Until he got two girls pregnant on the shoot. At the same time, even.”

My father had been fucking Christine, and he pulled out of her ass and then aimed it at Punk Girl’s pussy.

Damn it! I couldn’t stop thinking of her as “Punk Girl!”

Punk Girl reached behind her, though, and grabbed his dick and aimed it square at her own ass. The girl was tiny, and his cock looked like it was almost as big as her calf from this angle. My father looked at her as if to ask her if she was sure, but she nodded her head vigorously, the massive red mohawk waving in the air like a giant fan.

The camera cut to a closeup of my father’s enormous head pressing against her tiny hole, and you could see both Christine and Redd watching in awe and fascination as he began to push her sphincter open. They began talking excitedly to each other, and I wanted to turn up the volume to hear, but didn’t want Tracy to know that I was watching the video at the same time.

It dawned on me that I might very well be watching the minutes before my own conception.

“Neither your mother nor Christine wanted to get an abortion,” Tracy said, disgusted. “And your father wanted to do the ‘right thing’ and support them both.”

I could almost see the air quotes with her fingers.

“And that’s how we broke up,” Tracy said. “Your father took his responsibility seriously, and couldn’t make the time to be with me. What we didn’t realize at the time was that Zoey was too competitive, too eager to win. We had a scene where the three of us were all supposed to fuck your father, and it became a huge competition.”

My father’s dick was now just inside Punk Girl’s ass, the flesh of her body clamping down just behind the head. She wiggled her ass, pulling him further and further inside.Suddenly, she pushed back on his dick, and he doubled over. She pulled off of him, pain registering on her face but quickly replaced with determination.

“Rod had never met Zoey or Christine before that video shoot,” Tracy said, “but he felt like he owed them his life, especially after Zoey died.”

“Wait a minute,” I said, hoarsely. “What happened to Zoey?”

On the screen, the tiny girl was thrashing about on my father’s dick just like she had done before in the earlier scene. Listening to Tracy, my thoughts turned from how can she do that to she probably shouldn’t be doing that.

“Oh,” Tracy said, “I’m not entirely sure. It turned out that she shouldn’t have tried to do some of the things that she did. She had never had a dick as big as your father’s, and she fucked him too hard.”

Zoey’s antics on the video gave Tracy’s words visual confirmation. My father stood stock still, his dick being rode by this tiny girl, his massive girth spreading her ass open as she forced herself backwards.

“I think she did some major damage to her internal organs,” Tracy said, sounding like she was trying to remember the details, but didn’t really care how if she was accurate or not. “Or something. But because she had gotten pregnant with you, they didn’t heal right.”

“And Christine?” I asked, my voice barely audible.

“Oh, that bitch?” Tracy laughed. “She could have fit a horse inside that twat. She had made videos before and loved doing extreme insertions. That’s one of the reasons why I asked her to be in the movie.”

Punk Girl pulled herself off of my father’s cock, and he moved back towards Christine. Sure enough, she took his dick into her ass with ease. Punk Girl turned around and started kissing my father at the same time. Redd moved in front of Christine so that she could get the blonde girl to lick her pussy as he pounded her ass.

“But Zoey wouldn’t listen,” Tracy said. “She didn’t think she needed to train her body for this kind of punishment. You can’t just ram something that big inside you and not expect consequences.”

Christine was caught between Redd and my father, who held onto both arms as he fucked her ass. Either she was the best actress in the world, or she was genuinely loving it. I thought it was probably the latter.

Punk Girl reached down and pulled him unceremoniously out of Christine’s ass, and began to suck on the head. The bright red fan of her hair moved in distracting motions as she stuffed her face with it, and then she waved Redd over.

Christine and Redd swapped places, but there was a look of fear on Tracy’s face as Zoey aimed my father’s dick as her ass. She shook her head violently, and a grin of victory crept across Punk Girl’s lips.

My father’s dick slipped into Redd’s pussy, and her lips parted in a silent moan.

To my horror, a hand slipped into my lap.

Don’t you dare touch yourself! Team Morality warned. This is too fucked up! That’s your mother!

Team SUAFM was having none of that. So what? It’s not like you knew her. Not to mention, you’ve been jilling off to your father for days!

Even so, I pulled my hand from my crotch. It turned out that even I wasn’t that perverted.

“So, Zoey decided to take the baby to term,” Tracy said, her voice hardening with the memory. “And as the baby grew, it made everything worse. The doctor’s told her that she wouldn’t likely survive the birth, but she wanted to do it her way. As usual.

“Your father started spending more and more time with her, and less and less time with me, and almost no time with Christine and her pregnancy,” she continued. “I don’t know what Christine was thinking. She knew Rod was mine, but I think she expected him to marry her or something.”

What Tracy was saying didn’t match up with what was going on the screen, and I had to remind myself that this wasn’t some sort of “Director’s commentary.” The fact that she was narrating the action was a complete coincidence, and I had to re-focus on what she was saying.

“So your father and I started to fight more and more. He was spending all of his time with Zoey and Michelle, especially when it started getting closer to the birth,” she said. The neutrality in her voice was disconcerting, almost as if she were reading it from a piece of paper.

“After you were born, it was all over,” she said. “Rod told me that he couldn’t spend the time devoted to me and two babies, especially since Zoey had died. He felt guilty for what had happened, and blamed himself. Michelle hated his guts for ruining her life, and since she couldn’t blame her sister, she blamed Rod.”

Click. Another piece fell into place.

Movement on the video caught my eye again. Redd had just had a massive orgasm, and my father was now returning to Punk Girl, who was wiggling her ass at him again. This time, though, he plunged into her pussy and began fucking her. The whole time, she was urging him to go harder and faster.

Redd was down for the count, lying in a heap on her side, one leg raised so that she could fondle her clit as she watched. Christine decided she would climb on top of Punk Girl and make out with her, leaving her pussy open for my father to alternate between them.

Tracy still had no idea I was watching the porno as she talked. “So your father broke up with me,” she said. “But like I told you before, I wasn’t all that torn up about it.” Somehow I doubted that.

My father started dipping his dick into Christine, and then into Punk Girl. Back and forth, back and forth. Both girls thrashed when he entered them, loving the feeling of being filled up.

“After that,” Tracy said, “I didn’t speak to your father for many years.”

My father suddenly grabbed Punk Girl’s ass and lifted both her and Christine several inches into the air, and plunged himself to the root.

Zoey rocked her head back and screamed, and Redd jumped to her knees. My father pulled out, streams of white come spraying everywhere, and plunged into Christine next. Redd looked frantic, trying to reach for his dick but was too far away from it to get a good hold of it.

If I had seen this scene before everything had happened, I would have probably thought that Tracy had desperately wanted to get in on the fun. With all the backstory and context, though, I thought that perhaps she really was in a panic about her boyfriend finishing off in both Zoey and Christine.

Christine rotated her ass so that he could grind into her better, and looked back over her shoulder at him and smiled. Redd finally got close enough so that she could pull him out of Christine’s pussy and wrap her mouth around his still spurting cock, swallowing the last remnants of his orgasm.

The camera cut to a close up of Zoey’s and Christine’s pussies, one on top of the other, with dribbles of white come dripping out of their holes. Redd let some of his come fall out of her lips until it pooled at her chin, and smiled at the camera before it faded to black.

I hit pause on the video before her image disappeared completely. The look on Redd’s face was plastic and fake, a smile that was completely separate from the look in her eyes. With new context, it was obvious that Redd was not happy about what had just happened.

I was now convinced I had just seen my father impregnate both Zoey and Christine. It was a snapshot in time, my time. The beginning of my beginning. The beginning of the end for Zoey.

“Anything else you wanted to know, Shannon?” Tracy asked, bored.

“Okay, I get it. You lost my Dad. But… why me?” I asked, my voice meek and hollow. “Why do all of this to me? I don’t understand.”

Tracy sighed. “Jesus, Shannon, you really are thick, aren’t you?” her annoyance level had escalated. “When I started dating your father, everything fell back into place for me. I knew I what I had been missing for all of these years. I had let him go, and now I had him back again.

“Except I didn’t. He had me, but I didn’t have him,” she said. “He wouldn’t shut up about his daughters, especially you. Whenever we were together, he would barely pay attention to me unless I was sucking his dick or fucking me. All the other times, it was Shannon this, and Shannon that.”

She sounded thoughtful. “You know, now that I think about it, I don’t even think he really likes Simone all that much.”

“So you, what, seduced Simone? To get back at me?” I asked.

“No, you idiot,” Tracy said, not bothering to hide her disdain any more. “To get you out of the way.”

“Huh?”

She sighed, exasperated at my cluelessness. “Simone is incredibly easy to manipulate,” Tracy said. “I’m shocked that you haven’t seen that by now. She’s incredibly jealous of you, but she has a mean streak that comes straight from her mother.

“All I had to do was wind her up and let her go,” Tracy continued. “I didn’t really expect her to go as far as she did, but hey. There you go.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” I asked. “If I tell my father, he’ll dump you like the trash that you are.”

It took a lot for me to call her names. She dismissed it with a laugh, and I felt impotent. “Oh, Shannon, you’re not going to do that,” she said.

“And why not?”

“Because your father is happy with me,” Tracy said. “You saw him on Saturday. You know that he’s in love with me. You broke us up once before, and you’re not going to do that again.”

I felt a tear fall down my cheek. She was right, just like she had been right about everything else. I couldn’t bring myself to bring my father more unhappiness right when it seemed he had found what he wanted.

“What about Simone?” I asked, unsure of myself.

“What about her?”

“What if she tells my Dad?”

Tracy laughed even harder. “Are you kidding? Simone and I are BFFs. With me around, she’s gotten to see more of her father since her birthday than she has in the past three years.”

“So, you’re going to go about your little life,” Tracy said, “keep on fucking your boy toy for a while, graduate, go off to college, and move on. You’re going to do that because you love your father and you want to make him happy. Don’t you?”

My heart sank. Tracy had just outlined how she had cut me out of my father’s life, and how I was going to help her continue doing so.

I felt trapped. I didn’t know how to answer that question so that I didn’t sound like a complete loser. “I don’t think my father will be happy with you,” I suggested, but it sounded weak and impotent.

“Oh, please,” Tracy said. “You and I both know that your father needs someone like me, someone who can give him everything he needs. You know it, I know it, and Simone knows it. What’s more, your father knows it.

“So, answer the question, Shannon,” she challenged. “Do you want your father to be happy, or not?”

I swallowed, hating myself for saying my next words. “Yes, of course I do.”

“Well, then,” she sounded triumphant. “That’s why you’re not going to say anything.”

I sniffed and immediately regretted letting Tracy know she had gotten to me.

“Oh, give me a break,” she said, completely unmoved. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll get Simone to leave you alone at school, and you get to go back to having the occasional buddy-buddy day with your dad every other week or so. It’ll be just like it has always been.”

Her voice took on a completely infuriating tone. “If you’re good girl,” she said, “I’ll teach you how to lick pussy the right way. I may even let you suck his come out of it again.”

Her words hung in the air like a sickening fog. I ignored her last taunt, and contemplated the life she was proposing. Go back to the way it was? Back to a having an estranged relationship with my father? After everything that happened?

Then what was the fucking point?

“As long as we’re clear, Shannon,” Tracy’s voice stabbed into my skull like an ice pick. “Don’t fuck with me. He’s mine, do you understand?”

“Yes,” I mumbled.

“Consider Saturday night a gift from me to you,” she said, her voice cold and snarky. “And look on the bright side. If it weren’t for me, you’d never have known the truth about your parents.”

The line went dead, and my phone went dark. She had hung up on me. I stared at it for a long time, trying to understand what had just happened.

I was too confused to cry, too angry to think straight. Tracy had backed me into a corner, blocking off my options. I felt like my connection with my father had just started to open up, a breakthrough of epic proportions seeming imminent. Instead, she was yanking it away from me just as it seemed to be within reach.

So much had happened in such a short period of time it was impossible to get my head wrapped around the full scope of it all. I simply couldn’t fathom why Tracy had gone to all that trouble to seduce me, only to throw me away days later.

My phone buzzed, and I looked down to see a text from Andrew.

School’s over. Can I still come over?

My thumbs got to working as fast as they could. Yes, I really need to see you.

My heart raced as I awaited his response. Give me your address. I’m on my way, came the reply.

I sent it to him, and tried to settle down as I waited for him. I decided that the best thing to do was take a shower while I waited – after all, I had had a very active and physical day.

The water couldn’t seem to be hot enough to melt away the anger, shame, and fear that I felt. The drone of the droplets did give me a sense of peace, though, which I desperately needed. Through the sound of the falling water I was able to start to piece together the little that I knew.

The hot water stung my arm, reminding me about Simone and her insane vendetta against me. I still couldn’t get my head wrapped around the idea that she was my sister.

How long had she known? Tracy had said something about letting it ‘slip’ around Simone’s birthday. I had no idea when Simone’s birthday was, but apparently it had been about a month or so after mine.

I leaned against the tile in the shower, trying to make sense of it all. Simone had staged a campaign of terror against me knowing that I was her sister. Why? She even knew that I didn’t know. Why didn’t she come and tell me?

Simone and I had never been friends, and had never even really known each other. Suddenly she seemed to flip some sort of switch and go from not knowing me at all to a full-court press of wanton destruction. But why?

What could Tracy have possibly said to Simone to make her hate me so much? What kind of person would Simone be to just attack an innocent victim like that?

Tracy admitted that she wanted me out of the way. She had planned this. In fact, she had planned this for a long time. This past week was just the tip of the iceberg.
Wait, how long had she been planning this?

Almost twenty years.

My breath caught in my throat. Tracy is dangerous, my mother had said. Now I understood that she had been understating things. She had plotted and schemed to figure out a way to get me and Simone out of her way so that she could have my father all to herself. Again.

Simone had proven herself to be a willing accomplice, a ‘useful idiot.’ Her sadistic nature and desperate Elektra complex would be easy to manipulate. Tracy must have fed her lies and half-truths about how my father doted on me and must have had convinced her that I was the reason why she had been “ignored” for her entire life.

That made sense. A hatred like Simone’s needed to be fueled constantly, and Tracy would have been the perfect person to do that. Hell, she had even admitted as much.

I banged my hand against the shower wall. It wasn’t fair. None of it was my fault!

There didn’t seem to be a way out of this mess. She had pushed me out of the picture, and I had no doubt that she would use Simone as a sex toy for a little while and then discard her as well. That wasn’t my problem, though.

My real problem was that she would have her claws in my father and there wouldn’t be any way to get rid of her. He would never know what she had done, because she knew that I could never tell. As long as Simone managed to spend time with my father – even with Tracy as a chaperone – she would never tell either.

Worse, Tracy would never leave me alone with my father from now on. I didn’t think that I could spend any more time with her, though. That would leave my father always left wondering why I didn’t want to see him. Again, she would get what she wanted, he would be left in the dark, and I would be even more estranged from him.

That wouldn’t be fair to him, either. I thought about what Tracy had told me, about how he had tried to do the right thing when I was a baby. I got the feeling that there was a lot that she had left out, things that probably would change the bigger picture if I knew about them.

Tracy is dangerous. When my mother had said that, I couldn’t have imagined just how she meant it. I never would have dreamed that this is what Tracy was capable of doing.

One thing became crystal clear. I couldn’t let my father spend the rest of his life with Tracy. I needed to stop it. Worse, since I couldn’t risk letting anyone know what I’d done, I was the only one who could actually do it. There just wasn’t anyone who could help me.

But how?

I heard the buzzing of my phone on the bathroom counter, and realized I had been in the shower for a lot longer than I intended. Hurrying, I turned off the water and grabbed a towel. Wrapping it around myself, I grabbed the phone and saw Andrew’s text.

I’m here.

I thought about texting him back, but figured that it would just be easier and faster to let him in. I rushed to the door and opened it, and Andrew’s eyebrow raised as he saw me soaking wet with a towel wrapped around my body.

“Come in,” I said, and turned to walk back to my room. Andrew followed me.

When we got there he looked around, and I suddenly realized that to someone who lived in a museum, my room must have looked like a bomb hit it.

I didn’t know why I brought him into my room – naked except for only a towel – but it was the room in the house where I felt the most comfortable. It struck me that being dressed in nothing but a towel must have really looked odd, given that I had blown him at his house and fucked him already at school.

Sighing, I just couldn’t be bothered to care about the rapid escalation of our relationship in light of everything that had happened. I shrugged, and then threw my arms around him and kissed him.

He kissed me back, tentatively. Any concern I had that he thought I was just looking for a third go immediately became irrelevant as he felt hesitant and unresponsive. He knew everything.

“Oh Andrew, I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed when our lips parted. “I never should have doubted you.”

“You mean you believe me?” he asked, barely daring to believe what I was saying.

I nodded. “Yes,” I said. “I should have known it would be Simone being Simone all along.”

He looked confused and uncertain. To him, what I said probably made no sense. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean,” he said, hesitantly. “But I’m glad that you believe me. I was afraid that you would always wonder if I would do that to you, and I wouldn’t.”

I shook my head. “No, Andrew, you have nothing to worry about,” I said as forcefully as I could. “I believe you.”

He smiled, and let out a slow breath. “I’m glad.”

God, I wanted to kiss him again. First, though, I needed to let him know about the fight. “Andrew,” I said. “About the fight. Simone knew you and I had sex.”

He nodded. “The condom,” he said.

“Oh,” I said. “You know.”

He smiled grimly. “Of course,” he said. “There were lots of people who saw us kissing in front of the classroom, and as much as they’re complete idiots it didn’t take much for them to put two and two together. That’s what I need to talk to you about.”

“What happened?” I asked, a spike of fear causing the hairs on my neck to rise.

He sighed, and I led him to the bed to sit down, adjusting the towel to cover my flat chest and then feeling stupid for being so modest in front of him.

“I got called into the Dean’s office,” he said. “And they tried to give me the third degree.”

“What did you tell them?” I asked, afraid of the answer.

“Nothing,” he said, and a goofy grin crossed his face. “I basically said that I had no idea what was going on between you and Simone, but that I knew that she had been trying to get you into trouble for weeks.”

I exhaled slowly. “Did they ask you anything about the condom?” I asked.

He smiled sardonically. “What condom?” he asked rhetorically.

A grin broke out on my face, and I laughed. “What did they say?”

He shrugged. “What could they say? Unless they were going to try to get a DNA test, which I seriously doubt, there was no way they could really connect it to me.”

He frowned, then. “Plus, I couldn’t risk them talking to my parents,” he said soberly. “I’m sorry, Shannon, but I had to say that there was nothing going on between you and me. I might have said that you were coming on to me and I was just trying to be nice.”

I smiled, and touched his face. “It’s okay, Andrew,” I said trying to comfort him. He obviously felt bad for needing to do that. “In fact, I was going to suggest that you do exactly the same thing.”

He leaned into my hand, and then his eyes widened as they glanced at my chest. I looked down, and saw that the towel had fallen away from my chest and my nipples were on full display.

My first instinct was to cover up again, but I stopped myself. I looked down at my nipples, and an evil smile crept over my face. I looked at him, and I could see him lick his lips as he stared at them.

“Andrew?” I asked, quietly. “Do you see something that you like?”

He swallowed, and nodded. He looked back into my eyes, searching for approval. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and then pushed my chest out to him.

In an instant, a nipple was trapped between his lips, and instantly I was firing on all cylinders. “Oh yes,” I purred as he attacked my chest.

In one fell swoop, Andrew was making me feel much better. My nipples seemed to tell me that all I really needed was to give them the attention they truly deserved. Andrew wasn’t making all my problems go away, but I was more than happy for his distraction.

My towel fell down to my waist, and his hands reached for me. Once again I found myself at the mercy of his touch and loving it. In the past few days, a monster had awakened in me, one that I never new existed. It was ravenous and insatiable, and could easily overwhelm all other emotional states.

Well, almost. I thought about Tracy and what she said about fucking my boy-toy, and tried to push the thoughts away and out of my head. I just couldn’t seem to do it totally and completely, though.

Her words rattled around in my head. I thought about the life that she was proposing. Or was it condemning me to? No, dictating. Could I simply be satisfied with fucking Andrew – or any other man – as a substitute for having a father?

Jesus Christ. Talk about “Daddy issues.”

Andrew leaned me back on the bed, and I cradled his head as he kissed my chest and torso, electrifying my nerve endings and bringing me back to the present. I found my legs naturally spreading for him, almost as if they were on autopilot. The towel still draped across my waist, but I could feel his hands come up my thigh from underneath as it headed toward my pussy.

Foreplay? What foreplay?

“Oh, Andrew,” I moaned. He started to scoot down the bed, kissing my stomach along the way. He pulled the towel away, and once again my naked pussy was open to his whim. I knew what he was about to do, and felt no desire to stop him.

He was taking his time, touching me all over and tracing his lips across the most sensitive parts of my body. He grew closer and closer, driving me insane with impatience.

This was unreal. It had only been a little more than twelve hours – only half a day – since Andrew and I first had sex in his bedroom. It had only been a single day before that that I had had sex with Tracy. It was only six or so hours since I had felt him shoot into the condom inside my pussy.

Jeez, say that four times fast.

Four times. Team SUAFM chimed in. Prepare for number five!

Everything seemed like it was moving so fast, and yet I couldn’t get over the feeling that I needed things to move faster. I felt rushed, a feeling of being in a hurry that I couldn’t explain or understand. I felt like I needed to make up for lost time, but that wasn’t really true. I wasn’t actually in a race. Why did it have to happen now? Always… now?

Take the chance when you get them, Team Shutupandfuckme encouraged me.

I expected Team Morality to give me a counter-argument, to chastise me for not being patient and thinking things through. After all, that was how Tracy had trapped me in the first place. She had played on my impatience as much as my libido. How much of my situation could have been avoided if I had just taken my time and thought about what was happening more?

Team Morality remained silent, though. The absence of my own Jiminy Cricket seemed to convince me that I needed this, I deserved it.

Andrew was kissing the space between my belly button and my pussy, sending a quiver of excitement across my diaphragm. In half a day he had gone from hesitant and clumsy to actively learning how to touch me the way I liked. It had taken no time at all.

Time, I thought. We have as much time was we need.

I fought my desire for rushing with the knowledge that I could spend as long as I needed letting him bathe my pussy with his tongue. If he could go for an hour, why not let him? What if I wanted to explore his body? I could do that too. It was only because I was impatient, wanted to experience everything all at once.

You’ll get better.

His tongue dipped into the crevice between my thigh and pussy lips, not quite touching the labia. I tried to rotate my hips to get him to taste me, but he held my hip down so that he could be in control.

“Oh god, Andrew,” I moaned. “You can do this any time you want.”

“Do you mean that?” he asked, and then returned to teasing the flesh around the most sensitive parts of my body.

I sighed in contentment. We weren’t in a rush, I didn’t need to race to the finish line. I just needed to be patient. Then I would get what I wanted.

Don’t be so immature, Team Morality scolded. Wait, that was Team Morality? Did my conscience just switch sides?

That thought echoed in my head for a while, and as good as Andrew was my mind returned to my “Tracy problem.” Somehow, she had pegged me for the kind of girl I was – impulsive, impetuous, and emotional. In the few short hours that I had spoken with her and hung out at my father’s house, she had somehow read me as someone who just needed a little push.

It killed me that she could read me like a book within only a couple of hours after meeting me. How could I have been so easy to decipher? I’m sure that when Simone reported back to her about what had happened with the video and dildo, she must have done some guessing. But how did she figure me out so quickly?

The most insulting part of it all was that I was so predictable. I felt like I had not just walked into her trap, I had made a beeline for it. All because of the fact that I couldn’t wait to get laid, couldn’t be patient. If I had only been patient, just like Andrew was doing right now, I could have probably beat Tracy at her own game.

She needed to be beaten, and not just in a “she lost this round” kind of way. She needed to be utterly defeated so that she could never get up again. She needed to be taken out, no matter how long it took.

My eyes fluttered and I stared at the ceiling. Had I made up my mind? Was I going to fight Tracy? Was I going to fight for myself, for my father?

A giant eraser swept through my thoughts as Andrew’s tongue made contact with my clit. I moaned in ecstasy as he opened me up with his hand like I had taught him, and began to use his tongue and lips in concert to play with me just the way I liked.

He took his time playing with me, enjoying the lack of a deadline as much as I was. I felt his fingers at my entrance, and knew that I was about to be penetrated. I couldn’t help it – I clenched in anticipation, even though I wanted him to do it.

For all intents and purposes, we had skipped foreplay and gone straight to third base. We hadn’t kissed for any real length of time, and he had spent all of twenty or thirty seconds on my nipples. In reality, we weren’t taking our time at all, but it still felt like it was taking too long. He was going too slow.

You have so much to learn, I could hear Tracy in my head.

He lifted his head off of my clit to get a better position, and I felt his thumb at my pussy and his index finger at my ass. Then his lips hovered above my clit. In an agonizingly slow movement, he pressed all three against me at the same time.

I gasped, a giant inhalation of breath, as I felt the onslaught of all three hypersensitive parts of my body. My clit was encircled by his lips and his fingers pushed farther into me. When he couldn’t push his mouth any further, he began to suck, adding constant vacuum pressure on my clit as he forged ahead with his fingers in both my holes.

My hands flew to his head, then to the sheets, and then back to his head. “Andrew!” I gasped, and then the rest of my body seemed to take over. My hips began to press up against him, trying to get more of his fingers inside of me.

He obliged, and I felt his knuckles in places that I had never experienced knuckles before. He readjusted his hand so that he could spread the top of my pussy open like I had told him, and he flicked his tongue across my clit in my favorite pendulum movement.

I thrashed on the bed, my entire body possessed by a sexual fiend that Andrew was taming with his incredible talent.

For the love of Christ, when did he have time to learn this since last night?

My orgasm hit me hard, a release of stress and tension and anxiety that I had been holding onto and was only unlocked by Andrew’s amazing talent. Everything I had said about experience? Yeah, forget all that. Andrew nailed it.

A strange gurgling sound emerged from my throat as I came, unpronounceable syllables and indescribable sounds trying to express what mere mortal words could not. Once again, he rode me through my climax, keeping me in place and his mouth and hand attached until my convulsions finally subsided. Once again my thighs collapsed around his ears and held his head locked to my cunt.

Breathing hard, I finally relaxed enough to give him a chance to breathe. I looked down across my inflating and deflating diaphragm to see his smiling eyes staring back at me. I touched his face with both hands, lifting him away from my pussy. He came up grinning, immensely proud of his accomplishment.

“Oh, Andrew,” I said, breathless. “You are incredible.”

He could only grin at me.

His fingers were still inside me, and he wiggled them. A slight aftershock hit me, and I realized that I wanted more.

“Andrew,” I said, realizing that I had been saying his name a lot. “I want to feel you come inside me.”

He looked around. “Where are the condoms?” he asked excitedly.

I shook my head. “No condom this time,” I said.

He frowned. “I thought you said you weren’t on the pill.”

I grinned slyly. “I never said anything about you coming in my pussy,” I said. I suddenly remembered something he said earlier in the morning when we were entering the school through the wrong door. “Sometimes the best entrance is an exit.”

Team Shutupandfuckme whooped. A trifecta! Yes!

His eyes widened, and he couldn’t stop a smile. “Are you serious?” he asked.

I nodded. “Please, though, go slow,” I said. “I’ve never done it before.”

He frowned. “Shannon,” he said, suddenly worried. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t really want to.”

I sat up more and kissed him. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t want it,” I said. “And I really, really want to feel you come inside me.”

It was true, and not just because of Andrew. A plan was formulating in my head, and for it to work I needed to test my limits. It was still vague and nebulous, but I needed to know what kind of options I had, and ironically if I was going to be able to succeed I was going to have to start this very moment.

I rolled over to my nightstand, where I had stored the lubricant that I had planned on using for the dildo. When I rolled back to face him, he was already standing up and pulling down his jeans. His rock hard cock sprang up into view, and bobbed like a buoy in water.

Ha! Team SUAFM laughed. A boy’s buoy!

Terrible puns aside, I couldn’t help but lick my lips at the sight of his cock. I reached for him, and was about to lather it in lube when he called my name. I looked up at him.

“Um,” he said, unsure of how to choose his words. “Would you mind, um, putting it in your mouth for a little bit?”

I couldn’t help but smile. This whole sex-with-a-real-guy thing was still new to me, despite everything I had already done. I had forgotten just how much guys liked getting sucked off, and in my eagerness to try something new I had glossed over giving him a little foreplay.

Selfish lover, I heard Tracy in the back of my head. I pushed her away, and engulfed his cock in my mouth.

Andrew wasn’t tiny, and he wasn’t small. He was average. He still filled my mouth and he still reached down into my throat. It was just that because he couldn’t possibly compare to the dildo, he didn’t seem to pose a challenge for me.

Even so, he was a lot of fun to deep-throat. He fit nicely, he jumped in my mouth, and he made all the right noises. I felt like I could be playful with his dick, and it seemed to enjoy what I was doing. If it weren’t for the fact that I wanted to try something different, I could have sucked him all day long. Come to think of it, I don’t think he would have minded that at all.

Neither would you, Team SUAFM chimed in.

I handed him the lube and turned around so that my ass was facing him. I looked over my shoulder to see him gawking at it.
“Oh my god,” he said in wonder. “Shannon, your ass is incredible.”

I wiggled. “Well, are you going to fuck at it, or just stare at it?” I teased.

“Can’t I do both?” he joked. He put some lubricant in his hand, and I felt a finger tentatively play with my asshole. “Are you sure?” he asked.

I smiled at him. “Definitely,” I said, encouraging him.

He placed his cock at my rear hole and tentatively prodded it. The pressure felt strange, an alien sensation that gave me both excitement and a great deal of pause. The soft spongy flesh of his cock head didn’t seem to find the center point of my sphincter, though, and I was getting frustrated.

“Geez, Andrew,” I complained. “Are you sure you know where it is?”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

I reached behind me and grabbed ahold of his dick. “Yes, please,” he said, relieved that I was going to take him inside my body at my own pace. “Guide me in.”

There was a lot of lubricant on his dick and on my asshole, which actually made it more difficult to aim. I felt bad about teasing him, because it didn’t feel like I was having much better luck.

Then it hit the bullseye, and I knew that it was going to happen. My ass began to spread open as the flare of his cock began to push into me, and I felt a stretch greater than anything I had ever experienced in my life.

Holy shit this was an eye-opener. Up until that moment everything I had tried had been easy, barely an inconvenience. Even the first time I put the dildo in my mouth felt like a no-brainer compared to this – and the head wasn’t even inside me.

I thought about giving up, simply taking him out and putting a condom on him and fucking him again. I was sure he wouldn’t mind, but there was a part of me that knew he’d still be disappointed.

Hell, he’s not the only one, Team SUAFM whined.

It felt… wrong. It felt like I needed to use the bathroom, probably one of the most un-sexiest feelings in my life. His dick just seemed to push me further and further open, and I had to stop and take a moment to breathe through the pain. As soon as I stopped pressing forward, the pain dissipated.

It goes away quickly, that knife edge.

I tried pulling him further inside me, but soon the pain came back. I compensated by pushing him out just a little, but not letting him go completely. At that moment I thought I had found the secret, as the slight back-and-forth movement began stimulating all of those little sensitive nerve endings in all the right ways.

Oh god, I had found it. I had found that knife edge that Tracy had been talking about. Back and forth, back and forth. Small, tiny movements. The pain and the pleasure fought against each other until they meshed into one feeling – as long as I could control it.

More than once, the slippery cock fell out of my grip as the lubricant made it very difficult to keep it exactly where I needed it. Whenever that happened, I paused to get a better hold and then started over. Whenever I did, I felt him open me up a little more.

Open me up. There’s no other way to describe it. At some point, this constant sawing motion made me feel like my body had been a locked box, a vault. Now it felt like my ass was blooming, a latch had been released and the door was about to swing wide open. It felt like my lower half was expanding with each minuscule movement as I pulled him inward micron my micron.

All at once, I felt him pass a point of no return. The head started slipping forward and there was nothing I could do to hold it back. In a wild and crazy moment, it reminded me of when you scoot yourself off the top ledge of a water slide past the point where you could no longer stop yourself.

It was on its way, and it gave me such a sense of relief and accomplishment at the same time when it finally passed into my anal cavity. My ass muscles swallowed the head of his cock until it fell just inside behind a very thick, very tight mass of muscle.

I gasped, and he froze. “Oh god,” he said, and I echoed the sentiment.

“Don’t move,” I breathed, barely able to speak a coherent language.

I felt him throb, and I was stunned at how different the sensation was to have him inside of my ass rather than in my pussy. I don’t know what I expected, but it certainly wasn’t this. One thing was certain – there was no way he could fuck my ass as if it were just a second pussy.

I wallowed in that sense of accomplishment that I couldn’t explain, and allowed myself a moment to comprehend the new and alien feeling of my bottom holding an alien invader in its grasp. I needed to take a moment to relax and simply feel him, until I was ready to create a little movement.

I had him in my ass. In my ass. The thought came over and over, a sense of disbelief fighting against the reality. His dick was actually, finally inside my ass.

Now that the head was through, there were new sensations. I imagined what it must look and felt like to him, to have the helmet of his head caught behind that wall with the remainder of his dick still outside of my body. The mental image was a turn-on, surprisingly.

I pushed back against him a little, and felt yet another new sensation. This time, though, there was no sharpness of pain – at least, not like when he first penetrated me. There was an increasing pushing feeling as his cock moved forward about an inch. There was a discomfort as the fullness pushed my body out of his cock’s way.

Within moments I seemed to lose all sense of scale. I had no idea how far he was inside of me, or even whether or not he was moving further in with each small thrust.

“Oh god,” I said, trying to get my head wrapped around all of the new sensations. I genuinely didn’t know if I liked it or not.

“Are you all right?” he asked, worried.

“I think so,” I confessed. I felt him start to withdraw, and this time I was convinced he was trying to pull himself out of me. “No, don’t!” I demanded. I reached behind me in a desperate attempt to stop him from going any further.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said again.

“You’re not,” I said. “You’re just so big. I just need a little time.”

Andrew stopped trying to disengage, and I wondered if my appeal to his ego worked. Apparently it did, and I felt him start to press himself back inside me.

After a moment, I just had to ask. “How far inside?” It wasn’t the best English, but he got the point.

“All but a couple inches,” he said.

I knew I needed him all the way inside me. I wanted to feel his pelvis pressed against my ass, wanted to feel his balls against my pussy. We were close to that. Only two more inches. We could do it.

“Shannon,” I heard him call. I was beginning to learn what that meant, but I didn’t want him to come just yet.

“Don’t come,” I said. “Not yet. Please.”

He simply whimpered a little, and I tried to only move a little. I edged myself back and forth, and I heard him try to breathe through his nose in order to keep his orgasm at bay. I needed to keep him going for a little while. I had plans.

He slipped a little further inside me and he gasped again, his hands flying to my hips. I knew he wanted to thrust inside me until he bottomed out – pun intended – and was fighting to keep in control. There was an incredible sense of power at that moment, knowing that I had him riding his own knife edge. Here I was on all fours, Andrew’s cock nearly fully stuffed inside my ass, and I was in complete control. That is, as long as I could hold off on his orgasm.

“What does it feel like?” I asked. Not only did I want to know, but I thought that if I could get him talking he might able to focus on something other than his orgasm.

“S-so t-tight,” he stuttered. I loved the fact that he had a hard time even speaking.

“Better than my pussy?” I asked. I really wanted to know.

“D-different,” he said. I pushed back a little more. It may have only been a few millimeters for all I knew, but to me it felt like he had pushed inside several feet.

I grunted. I felt him twitch inside my ass. “Talk to me,” I gasped. “Tell me.”

He struggled to keep his breathing steady, as if he took a deep breath he would start spraying his load inside of me right away. “With your pussy,” he said in a rush, “there are all these different places and… contours and… textures.”

He groaned as I pulled forward enough to have him withdraw slightly. Then I pushed back a little harder, and he sank further inside of me. We both moaned.

“Your ass is all… all… all even,” he finally managed to get the words out. “All around my cock. S-so smooth and it grips me at…”

He stopped, and I wondered what had happened. After a long break, he finally said, “the entrance. Or exit.”

I giggled at his inside joke. I was feeling warm inside, the invading cock no longer feeling like an invader. I could feel two distinct sensations on my end. My asshole was gripping his cock and feeling it slide back and forth, a zillion nerve endings registering in a perfect circle around his shaft.

The second was a fullness I had never imagined before. I never thought that I would ever find my ass to be an erogenous zone until he had played with it the night before, and at this point I was trying to cope with all of the new sensations.

“It’s l-like this tight circle m-moving down my c-cock,” he said, struggling to get the words out. “And th-then so w-warm deep ins-s-side.”

He sucked air through his teeth, trying his best to hold on. “What does… it feel like?” he asked me.

I tried to find the words to describe it, and yet I felt like they were completely impossible to find. I wanted to tell him how each part of my ass felt different, how I could feel him get deeper and deeper, how the head seemed to fill that part of me while the rest of his shaft just seemed to push me apart from the inside.

The magic happened when he moved, though. Small, quick movements set my sphincter muscles on fire. I could feel him better there, feel the nerve endings excited as his flesh ran across them, but at the same time I wanted to feel more of the fullness that I knew was coming.

“Full,” I managed to croak, knowing that it didn’t do it justice. I didn’t just want my nerve endings stimulated, and I didn’t just want to be full. I wanted both at the same time. I needed him to move, needed him to constantly be in motion for me to feel what I needed.

“Intense,” I added. Not the best description either. “So intense.” That’s better. Much more clear.

I couldn’t help it. I started to move on my own, my hips moving back and forth in a more steady rhythm. He grunted with effort each time I came further down on his dick.

“Andrew,” I panted. “I can’t stop.”

“Shannon, I-I’m going to c-come if you do that,” he warned.

I knew that. I knew it but I couldn’t stop myself. There was a completely new sensation running through my lower body that I couldn’t define, and didn’t understand. There was no orgasm to expect, but the feeling was so good that I just couldn’t stop. I didn’t even know when the crossover happened. All I knew was that I needed to move.

“I don’t care,” I said, picking up my pace. “Do it if you have to. Come inside my ass. Just fuck me, Andrew!”

My voice had reached a fever pitch, a shrill, demanding call.

Andrew groaned, and I felt his hands grab my hips and his cock suddenly pushed all the way inside my ass.

“Yes!” I grunted as he bottomed out. The root of his dick spread my asshole just a little bit further, but I didn’t have time to enjoy it.

Andrew pulled almost all the way out, and before I knew it he was thrusting back inside me. It withdrew, and then he reversed course. Out and in he went, both of us grunting and groaning with each thrust. As I had hoped, I felt his balls slap against my wet pussy with each stroke.

The friction increased and I felt an incredible warming heat begin to grow where he entered me. Unlike my pussy which created its own lubrication, I felt a more raw and primal sensation. I didn’t know how much longer I would be able to take it, as it felt like he was trying to make fire with his dick and my asshole.

I managed to lift a hand free so that I could touch my pussy, and I felt the heat spread there as well. “Shannon!” he nearly shouted.

I didn’t hold him back, though. “Do it!” I yelled at him. “Come in my ass!”

Andrew lost it. He held my ass in place while he fucked it until I heard his voice start to grow louder and higher in register. I knew he was close, and the anticipation of his explosion inside my body brought me up a few notches as well.

This is it, Team Shutupandfuckme shouted with glee. He’s going to do it. You’re going to feel it!

I was ready to experience a man’s come inside me for the first time. So ready that I-

He buried himself balls deep in my ass, and didn’t move. His cock seemed to fill me up even more, and then it exploded. I felt the liquid in my ass almost immediately, and I didn’t even need to rub myself any harder.

My lower body clenched and reacted, and I could feel nothing but both of our chaotic orgasms fighting for attention in the same physical space. Neither one of us had any energy left, and I felt the weight of his body shift and lose balance. He collapsed around me, and his arms wrapped around my torso and he held me tight as he emptied himself into my anal cavity.

The way he was buried inside me, I felt the widest part of his shaft bob and flex, and I imagined that each twitch was another spray inside my ass. I could visualize it pumping into me, over and over, and I tried to map it to what I was experiencing so that I could use it for my masturbation sessions later.

I marveled at how the ending felt so different than the beginning. Like, night and day different. The beginning had felt rough and – let’s face it – unpleasant, but at some point it had morphed into such intense pleasure that it belied description and definition.

“Oh god, Shannon,” he said after a moment. “Please say that we can do this again!”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” I panted.

I tried to take stock of my situation, and I realized that I was going to have to take a shower again. It was a small price to pay for such a gloriously intense event.

My ass held him tightly, and for some reason he didn’t go soft. I wondered if there was some sort of coincidence there. He began to move inside me once more.

I tried to look at him over my shoulder, but couldn’t quite see him fully. “Again?” I asked, impressed.

“I’m torn,” he said. “I want to, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to stay hard now that I came so, er, hard.”

Within moments I understood what he meant. As long as he had been buried inside of me, he had been able to maintain his erection. I think it had to do something with my sphincter clenching and squeezing him at the root of his cock. For some reason, though, he started to slip. As soon as he tried to fuck me the natural strength of my anal muscles managed to push him out of my body.

“Awww,” he said as I finally squeezed him out. I had meant it to be playful, but in reality I really did feel a little disappointed. Neither of us wanted it to happen, but it did. I didn’t think that he was any happier about it than I was. As his cock head fell out of my bottom, we both shuddered and spasmed at the sensation.

“Simultaneous convulsion,” he quipped. I giggled.

Even so, I was content. I looked over at his shiny dick, and felt it in my hand. To think that I had had this thing in my ass. I played with it a little while, realizing that this was really the first chance that I had to see it soft. Every other time I had seen it, he had been hard and ready for me.

I marveled a little at it. It was so small now, barely a couple of inches. But it could grow to nearly three times that size, and that had been in my mouth, my pussy, and my ass all in one twenty-four hour period.

Not like Tracy could say that, I thought to myself proudly.

A thought struck me like a bolt of lightning. I may have just come up with an idea to solve my Tracy problem and my Simone problem at the same time.

Could I do it? Could I actually go through with it?

You’ve been able to avoid issues with people by running away from your problems. My mother had said it not three hours ago. You need to learn how to work through them.

I knew she had been right. I thought about it for a moment, weighing my options. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I needed to take control of my life.

She will own you, Mr. Rawlins had said. At the time, I had only thought about Simone. Now, though, I realized that he had been really talking about Tracy, but neither of us knew it at the time. The stakes were higher now, though. Tracy was playing for keeps, not just trying to gain points in some stupid class. If ever there was a time for fighting back, it was right now.

Now. Time. Patience. I needed to plan. That would take time. I would have to pace myself, prepare my scheme if it had any chance of victory. I had to be careful not to let anyone in on my intentions, including Andrew.

Especially Andrew, I thought to myself. That saddened me, because it meant that I would have to keep secrets from him as well. There was no way that he would help me, though, if he had even the slightest clue of my designs.No one could ever know what I was thinking about doing. Not until it was time.

Then, well, then we would see if I could actually be able to go through with it.

Although, Team SUAFM pointed a bright side. Even if you ultimately chicken out, you could have a lot of fun along the way.

That settled it. I made up my mind.

“Andrew,” I said, smiling at him. “I loved that.”

“I did too,” he said, grinning. “That was amazing.”

“I could do that every day,” I said.

“Me too,” he said, but I don’t think he thought I was serious.

“Let’s do it, then,” I said, looking him straight in the eye.

“Wait, you mean it??” he asked, now understanding that I wasn’t joking around. “Really?”

I nodded. “Andrew, I want you to fuck me in the ass every day, or as much as you can.” I don’t know how I could have been any clearer than that.

Realizing how strange it sounded out loud, I added, “That was the most amazing feeling I’ve ever had, and I think I could happily get addicted.”

“Holy shit!” Andrew said, looking like had just won the jackpot lottery.

In a way, I suppose he had. As we got out of bed to head to the shower, he was giddy with excitement and post-coital thrill. Knowing that he was going to fuck my ass whenever he wanted was precisely the kind of feeling I wanted him to have.

As I led him into the bathroom and turned on the shower water, he turned me to him and kissed me.

“You’re the perfect girl,” he said, and I could tell that he was truly smitten by me.

“I try to be,” I said, smiling back at him. I turned to face the faucet under the pretense of checking the water temperature, but in truth I didn’t want him to see my face.

Oh god, you learned that from your mother, Team Morality said. It was true. I was afraid that if he could read the expression on my face then he would know I was holding something back from him.

I felt bad for Andrew, knowing what I had to do. But I couldn’t let Tracy get away with what she had done, nor what she was planning to do. If i was going to get my revenge then I needed Andrew to help me. If he knew what I was planning, he may never go along with it.

All I knew was that I needed Andrew to fuck me, and I needed him to start doing it right away.
The plan started crystalizing in my head, and I knew I had to be careful. There was going to be only one chance to do this, and I needed to go into training immediately.

As I soaped up Andrew’s body, I lingered on his cock and planned on how I would use it – and him – for my revenge.