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Date: Fri, 19 Aug 2005 11:09:58 +0000
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--- DECODED ATTACHMENT (callgirlcheerleaders#29.txt) ---
Ch. 29 Codes: Mf, Mf, teen, oral, rom
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I waited in my office until Giselle emerged to say good night. She
gave me a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek on her way out.
"Bye. Thanks for dinner."
"See you later."
I checked on Hayley, seeing that her light was out, and only then went
back into the bedroom. Marianne was in bed in her nightshirt,
inspecting her hair for split ends. I put away my robe and brushed my
teeth before joining her.
She rolled over next to me when I got in bed.
"What do you think of Giselle?"
I was too tired to play games.
"I overheard your conversation. Somehow it drifted in through the air
vent."
Her face paled a little, but she stayed put.
"And?"
"You're serious about this."
"Steve, she needs us. You heard what she was saying about her father?"
"Yes, but--"
"If you'd ever met him, you would understand. I mean he's not--" She
gulped and looked away from me. "He may not have the same problems my
father does, but he's not a very nice person. He can really be mean
sometimes. Really, really mean. I've seen him reduce Giselle to tears
with some offhand remark. And he's said nasty stuff to me too, trying
to be funny. You can probably guess what about."
"Your breasts?"
"Right. Like, 'Hey honey, you ought to get some of what Marianne there
is getting, then maybe you wouldn't still look like your brother.'
Stuff like that. It's no wonder she wants to get breast implants."
I sighed.
"I appreciate that. But I am not running a home for wayward girls
here. You and Hayley are a special case. It doesn't mean I can bring
in the rest of you."
Her jaw began to vibrate.
"We have the room, don't we?"
"That isn't the point."
"You can't afford it?"
I gritted my teeth.
"I probably could. But come on. Look at what you're talking about.
You want her to move out of her parents' house and in with us? Before
she's even out of high school?"
Her eyes darkened.
"I'm in the same place she is. Do you have a problem with that?"
"No, but--"
"What? She wants to do it. She knows better than we do what her
parents will do about it. I'd like to help her out. I mean, she's one
of my best friends, and I care about her. She's pretty responsible.
She'd carry her part of the load. She wouldn't be a burden. And she
has a job, I bet she'd kick in for the expenses."
I exhaled, staring at the ceiling.
"You really want this?"
She crawled onto my chest and set her chin on her arm.
"Is it that much of a problem? She's eighteen. It wouldn't be illegal
or anything."
"What if her father shows up on our doorstep with a shotgun?"
"He won't."
For some reason, I started laughing. How had I ended up in this
situation, three gorgeous teenage girls wanting to live with me? And I
was trying to argue my way out of it. For a good reason, I kept
telling myself.
Marianne caressed my forehead.
"Please? Couldn't we just try it?"
"What about Hayley? You know she's in an emotionally fragile state
right now."
"I'll talk to her. But I bet she'll be okay with it. She likes
Giselle."
"Liking her and living with her are two different things. But . . . I
guess . . . see what she thinks. Just make it clear that this is your
idea, not ours. I don't want her to feel outnumbered. And don't lean
on her about it, okay?"
"I won't. I'll be nice, I promise."
Despite her resolve, Marianne did nothing the rest of the weekend, and
I spent much of Monday at work wondering what she was about to
precipitate. I kept telling myself that this was insane, then I would
think about the fifty million men in America who would probably leap at
the chance to switch places with me.
Okay. Giselle was eighteen. That at least wasn't an issue. What
about appearances? This was beginning to look like I was accumulating
a harem. Except the girls didn't seem to care, and all of this was
their idea. I hadn't suggested any of it, right? I wasn't coercing
any of them.
Then we had Giselle's parents. Her father might be a jerk, but I had a
hard time thinking he wouldn't care about her moving in with me. Then
I had a thought: He wouldn't know the reality of it. He didn't know
that I had been sleeping with Giselle--that I had deflowered her, for
Christ's sake--all he would know was that his daughter was moving in
with her friend and her friend's boyfriend, taking one of their spare
rooms. From that perspective, it might not be enough to have him
reaching for his shotgun. If in fact he owned one. This wasn't the
same thing I had gone through with Elizabeth and Charles Mulcahey.
Maybe, just maybe, if Giselle was already trying to do things on her
own (since she had a job, right?), and if her father was halfway
serious about just wanting her married and out of his hair, her parents
might be willing to put up with the situation.
The one wild card was Hayley. If she seemed at all reluctant about it,
I was going to veto the idea immediately. I had too much of a
responsibility to her, bordering on assuming her parentage. I really
felt like she needed my undivided attention right now, and bringing
Giselle into the household was not going to help.
When I got home that night, I found Marianne in the den watching
television. She looked up at me but said nothing. I bent to kiss her.
"Well?"
"I told her. I can't tell what she thinks. You should go talk to her."
I went upstairs and into Hayley's room. She was lying on her bed
staring out the window. I sat beside her, and she sat up and hugged
me. She squirmed into my lap and laid her head on my chest.
"You understand that I'm very ambivalent about this idea. It's
something Marianne and Giselle thought up."
She nodded.
"If you're not 100% okay with it, it won't happen."
She took a slow breath.
"I like Giselle. She's cool. And I understand about her folks."
"None of which are necessarily reasons to have her move in with us."
"If she did . . . it would be just a roommate thing, right? She'd take
the room downstairs?"
"I think so."
"It wouldn't be like it is with us? She wouldn't be . . . " She
paused, smiling. "She wouldn't be one of your kittens, like me and
Marianne?"
"No. Absolutely not. No one is going to take your place with me.
Your spot is secure. I like her, but I don't feel half of what I do
for you."
She hugged me.
"I love you."
"I love you too, Little Kit."
She sat in my lap for another few moments.
"I guess it's okay. I don't mind then."
"You're sure?"
She nodded, then got off my lap. I kissed her forehead and then went
to change out of my suit. Marianne appeared a few minutes later.
"What did she say?"
"She's okay with it, provided it doesn't interfere in this little
family arrangement we've got going right now. Giselle cannot be equal
to the two of you."
A serious look spread across Marianne's face, and she stepped up to me,
putting her arms around my waist.
"No. She most definitely is not going to be equal. Now and then, I
have no problem with her coming up here to fool around the way we have
been doing. But I am still number one no matter who else comes into
this house."
"Yes."
"I am your girlfriend. You have some special relationship with Hayley
that I can't quite find a label for, but everything beyond that is just
fun and games. It's me, Hayley, and then everyone else."
"Absolutely."
"I like Giselle, but I don't love her like I love you and Hayley. I
told Hayley that, and I think she gets it. I'm going to keep telling
her so she doesn't get insecure."
"Good."
She smiled slyly.
"I don't mind creating some kind of harem thing here, but we have to
have some ground rules. I am the mama-san of this little cathouse,
okay?"
I laughed.
"Or kitten-house. I get it. You're number one. Don't ever worry
about that."
A few days later, I came home to find Giselle moving into the guestroom
downstairs with Marianne and Hayley helping her. She had brought along
a suitcase and two big cardboard boxes, which proved to be her entire
set of belongings.
I got a beer from the refrigerator and took a long swig to calm my
nerves, listening to the girls chattering about how to set up Giselle's
room.
I stepped into the doorway, and Hayley came over to hug me. Giselle
gave me a weary smile.
"Thanks. I really appreciate this. I know it must be a lot to take."
I shook my head.
"How did you manage it? Did you just walk out?"
"Um, no."
She glanced at Marianne, who sat back on the bed, brushing her hair
over her head the way she always did when she wanted to gather her
thoughts.
"Her folks don't know yet. She and I went over to her house this
afternoon before anyone got home and packed up her stuff. She just
left them a note."
"Oh."
"They don't know exactly where we are. So it's not like her dad will
be storming over here."
Thank God my phone number is unlisted, I thought.
"But what do you expect them to do?"
Giselle shrugged.
"I don't know. I guess we'll see."
That night, when everyone was in bed, I went around the first floor to
check all the doors and windows the way I normally did before turning
in. Giselle was in the downstairs bathroom, and she came into the
kitchen as I was getting a drink of water. She wore long flannel
pajamas, and her hair was tied back with a scrunchie.
"You settling in all right?"
She nodded, leaning against the counter across from me.
"I want to say something, just so we're clear."
"Okay."
"I know we have a history, okay? Whatever else I ever do, you're the
guy I gave my virginity to. That does mean something to me, but I want
you to understand that I'm not here to disrupt your relationship with
Marianne. Or with Hayley. I don't ever want to do that. You guys
really have something special, and it would kill me to bust that up. I
don't want to get in the way. If it ever gets like that, I'll go.
I'll get out ASAP."
"I think we should be all right. Marianne and I have talked about it.
It's Hayley you ought to worry a little bit more about. She's still
having problems because of what happened with her folks."
"I know. Whatever I have to do, I will."
"Thanks."
I bent forward and kissed her on the forehead.
"Go to bed."
She giggled a little and went to her room. When I crawled into bed and
turned out the lights, Marianne reached for me under the covers. I
thought at first she just wanted to snuggle, but when she reached into
my shorts, I realized she wanted something more.
I pulled off her nightshirt, and she slithered under the sheets to
remove my boxers. I felt her mouth enveloping my dick and the stud in
her tongue going to work. She quickly had me erect, and she kept up a
slow, steady massage against the underside of my erection, moving the
stud in broad circles over the head. I finally had to pull her off,
and she crawled onto my chest, straddling me. I reached between us to
make the connection and sank slowly into her wetness.
She lay on my chest, moving slowly up and down. I caressed her smooth
buttocks, reaching around to feel myself going into her. Then she
lifted up a little and kissed me.
"Are you happy?"
I pushed up at her slowly.
"Hmm?"
"It's a simple question," she said softly. "Are you happy?"
"When I'm making love with you, you have to ask me this?"
She giggled, pushing back down at me and squeezing me gently.
"I mean in general."
"Yes. Very happy. I have you; I have Hayley. I just want you two to
be happy too. If you're happy, I'm happy."
She rocked her hips against me gently, moaning.
"I am. Most of the time. I'm dealing with my dad. The therapy is
really helping. I think it's helping Hayley, too. But I still miss my
mom. I wish she was closer."
I pulled her down and kissed her softly. She continued rocking herself
against me, and I reached up to caress her full breasts, moving my
fingers over her stiff nipples.
"I know. I understand."
"I could go to school with her. If I got in. But then I'd have to
leave you."
Marianne had applied to U.C., and I knew she had picked Santa Cruz as
one of her potential campus choices, though it wasn't at the top of her
list.
"We could move."
She froze. She didn't say anything for a second or two. In the
darkness, I couldn't read the look on her face above me.
"Do you mean that?"
"I can do what I do from just about anywhere. The company might not be
happy about it, but I think they would let me."
She dropped down and hugged me tightly.
"Thanks."
"That's the future. We'll talk about it later."
She giggled, moving her hips again.
"Right. Later."
Giselle's attempt to avoid her parents lasted all of about eighteen
hours. Her father was waiting for her at school the next morning, and
they went straight into a meeting with a counselor. Marianne called at
lunch to fill me in, informing me that the school had declined to get
involved, citing the fact that Giselle was no longer a minor.
"I'm betting that he's going to follow us home, though. So, if you
think you could, it might help if you came home early. We have
cheerleading practice after last period, but we should get home around
four."
"Okay. I'll see you then."
I left the office at three-thirty, getting home just before four. No
one was home, so I changed out of my suit, not wanting to look any
older than I really was. At four-o-five I heard the garage door going
up. I opened the garage door to see Marianne's Bug pulling into the
third space. Giselle was in the passenger seat. Out on the street,
her father was pulling up in his car. I stepped into the garage, but
Giselle was already getting out of the car to face her father.
I came up behind Marianne, who stood in the garage doorway. Giselle
stood a few feet away from us as her father came stalking up the
driveway. He was not a large man, in fact he looked an inch or two
shorter than she was, and he wore jeans and a knit shirt with "Sears"
stitched over the breast.
"Daddy, go away. I'm not your responsibility anymore."
"You're going to get in that car right now, young lady."
"No."
He stepped up to her, trying to grab her arm, but she evaded her grasp.
"Let go of me! Go away!"
He finally seemed to notice me, and he gave Marianne and me a quick
appraisal.
"And just what are you getting yourself into here?"
"I'm just renting her a room," I said. "But I'm becoming inclined to
ask you to get off my property."
"Not without my daughter."
"Daddy, I left because you don't give a shit about me anymore. All you
care about is Phillip and his goddamned football scholarship."
He glared at her, fuming, but she went on before he could say anything.
"Can you name a single one of my friends besides Marianne? Do you pay
attention to anything I do? Has it ever gotten through to you that I
really do want to go to college? How much it hurts to listen you talk
about my future as if all it adds up to is getting pregnant?"
Giselle had started to cry in the midst of this tirade, and she wiped
the tears out of her eye now.
"Fuck you! You want to know something else about me? I'm a lesbian!
I've been fucking girls for six months now. I bet you never even
noticed, did you?"
Her father's eyebrows shot up, and he lost a step or two back down the
driveway.
"That's right. Your daughter's a dyke. A lesbo. So no one's ever
going to get me pregnant."
He stepped further away from her, panting for breath. He glanced at
me, then back at his daughter, who stood there sobbing into her hand.
Marianne went to her, pulling her into the garage, and the two of them
went inside. Her father's eyes went unfocused, and he looked dizzily
around the front yard.
"I think you should probably go now," I said.
To my surprise, he nodded slowly and walked unsteadily back to his
car. He got inside and drove away. I watched him go with a distinct
feeling that we would never see him again.
I found the girls inside. Giselle lay on her bed crying, and Marianne
sat next to her trying to comfort her. Giselle calmed down in a few
minutes, and then began laughing weakly through her tears.
"I think that should do it."
"The lesbian bit, you mean?" I asked.
She nodded.
"My dad is like . . . the poster-boy for heterosexual panic. He won't
be able to think straight for a week."
"I'm sorry."
"He was going to find out sooner or later. Might as well tell him now."
I left the girls together after that and went to my office to finish up
on the things I had bailed out on at work. Hayley got home about ten
minutes later, and I listened to them talking down below. Then she
came up to my office, still wearing her uniform from practice.
"Hey."
"Little Kit."
She sat on the corner of my desk.
"They told me what happened. That was pretty lame. I feel sorry for
Giselle."
"Yeah."
"So I guess she's here for good now."
"Looks like it. Still sure you're okay with this?"
She nodded.
"I'm getting used to it. It's kind of like a slumber party." She
giggled. "Plus sex."
"Right."
Giselle insisted on making dinner that night, and the other two girls
did the dishes. After that, they watched television or did their
homework while I puttered around in my office. Hayley reappeared just
after ten-thirty in her pajamas. She hung on the door jam, letting her
blonde hair swing around her shoulders.
"Steve? Would you spend the night with me tonight?"
"Sure."
She smiled.
"Thanks. I'll be waiting."
"Give me a few minutes."
Marianne apparently knew about this idea, and I kissed her good night
before heading for Hayley's room. Her door was shut, so I knocked
gently.
"Come in."
Her lights were off, but enough moonlight came through her blinds to
illuminate the room. She was under the covers, waiting for me. I
slipped into bed with her, and she snuggled against me. I quickly
realized that she was naked already. No real surprise there.
We kissed and fondled each other for a few minutes, and I soon found
myself suckling her big breasts. She had almost the same shape to her
that Marianne did, just slightly smaller. She sighed quietly as I
worked her nipples back and forth with my tongue, getting one, then the
other, standing up in damp arousal.
I reached down and found her belly ring, giving it a light tweak. She
giggled, hugging me, and I reached further down to the prickly nest
between her thighs. When I began to play with her, she pulled me up to
kiss me, shivering and biting at my tongue when I tweaked her clit.
Her hand found my erection. She stroked me softly as I masturbated
her, gnawing on my shoulder. She was soon warm and wet against my
fingers, and I slipped one into her. She gasped, squeezing my hard-on
tightly. I pushed my middle finger all the way into her, pulling it
back against her clit. I worked my palm against her sex for a minute
or two before she shivered against me in orgasm.
The tension gradually left her body, and she rolled onto my chest as I
lay on my back beside her. Her hand had remained on my erection, and
she slid under the sheets to take me in her mouth. Her technique was
not as expert as her sister's, but she clearly enjoyed what she was
doing, and that was enough for me. I pulled her up after a few minutes
and rolled her on her back. She pulled me on top of her, and I
penetrated her slowly.
I bottomed out inside her, enjoying the warmth and tightness for a
moment. I looked down at her, realizing that she was staring up at me.
"Steve?"
"What, baby?"
"Do you really believe me when I tell you I love you?"
I just--I think--barely managed to prevent her from sensing my shock at
such a question. She might have felt my erection suddenly weakening
inside her, but I hoped she wasn't paying attention.
"I believe you, honey."
"Do you promise?"
"I do."
"I'm sixteen now. I'm not a kid. I think I know what's love and what
isn't. I've had crushes before. This isn't a crush, okay? I really
love you."
I kissed her as firmly as I could.
"I believe you, Little Kit. And I love you, too."
And, I realized as I answered her, I meant it. Something in her voice
just then had convinced me. As we began to make love again, losing
ourselves in each other, one small part of my mind tried to reflect on
this development. Having someone genuinely in love with you was
nothing to lament, I thought, even under these circumstances. Maybe
even if--but no, I thought. I'm not going there. I won't cheapen her
like that. She deserved better than to have me try to psychoanalyze
her feelings, not when I was making love to her, for God's sake, not
when she was shuddering in orgasm underneath me, holding me tightly and
gasping against my shoulder.
Not when, on the brink of orgasm myself, I realized I would kill anyone
who tried to hurt her. I would hunt them to the ends of the earth.
Just take it for what it is, I thought. She loves me. That should be
enough.
* * *
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