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We toss the bag at the others, still giggling in their circle of couches and keep right on going. ‘Hey, are you guys, um…’ and Cat trails off, just before I slam the door to his room behind us. It’s dark, except for the light let in by the office windows and he strikes a match for his candle. For a second he’s at the window and I’m still by the door, and we’re uneasy. If I go to him, am I being too forward? No – crossing a room is just crossing a room. My feet begin moving anyway, and soon I’m beside him. Even while lighting the candle he hasn’t looked away, and he wraps an arm around me, slowly as I kiss him again. He clutches me tight, and the kiss becomes slower – longer – wet. I don’t know entirely what to do in this situation – what little I know I’ve pieced together from a children’s book called Where Did I Come From? that my parents showed my older sister when she was six. That along with some pamphlets, some porn and a little masturbation forms my basic understanding of. I think I was just wondering what else was going on here when I was not around. That evening we had a pleasant dinner and then Cal started working on a bottle of bourbon. The girls and I watched TV until Cal looked like he was about to collapse. I helped him to his room and then said goodnight to the girls. I went up to my own room. I relived the day with a good masturbation party all my own, dreaming of having Paul ramming his long prick into my willing pussy. I was squeezing my tits and nipples with one hand and getting all wet. It was not wrong to just think about it. As I finished cumming all over my other hand I licked it clean and savored the taste of my own cunt. The next day I was home early again, and again I found the house seemed to be empty. I went up to my room, glanced out the window, and saw Becky lounging by the pool. I wondered where Susie was. I had to know. I checked her room and then slipped out the back way and walked over to Paul's back door, but I did not.
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