Terer

Author's note: When I was writing the first entry I was mostly just trying to transcribe Cassandra's slow-burn sexual evolution. It was something I wanted to read elsewhere, but couldn't find exactly what I wanted, so I just wrote it. I never expected such a positive reaction. Thank you to those who read Very Hot, and thank you to those who rated and commented on it. Thanks to your responses I was inspired to continue, and Cassandra will get the story she deserves.

This is part 2 of 3. As such it may seem dull and unfinished (and there is no incest or anal), that's because it isn't finished. Three is on the way. Enjoy.

All characters are 18+

Very Hot 2: Very Hotterer

Okay, maybe "bliss" was an overstatement. We all came down from that moment in our own way. Jeremy passed out after his second orgasm, while I laid my head against our mother's breast and we caught our breath. My face and hair were beginning to stick to her skin.

I was hoping Mom wasn't falling asleep too when I turned my head to look at her. Her eyes appeared distant, and she wouldn't turn to meet my gaze. My stomach sank as I sensed her regret. The only regret I had was not getting off when I had the chance.

I didn't know how to handle the situation and panicked. I picked my head quickly up from my mother's boob, and the dried cum that had glued my head to her ripped away painfully for both of us.

Fleeing to our bedroom, I was seeking the sanctuary of my bed. Mom's bed was pushed against the wall opposite from mine, and I turned myself to face away from it while throwing the blankets over my head and essentially hiding.

I got stuck in my own head, thinking about everything that just happened and how quickly it seemed to escalate. I just wanted to make them feel good, and I thought that's how they would have felt about me. Out of frustration, I kicked the footboard of my bed, and it made a loud "thud" against the wood. The short corner posts vibrated from the shock.

I felt so overwhelmed that I was about to cry, then I heard someone move into the room. The soft steps I had heard hundreds of times before identified my mother as she snuck into her bed. Neither of us said a word to each other for the rest of the night, and somehow I actually managed to fall asleep.

Saturday, September 2nd, 2021

As usual, my alarm clock started my day at 6:30 a.m. That is also the time 104.5 treats me to the forecast and today's unwelcome news of a continued heatwave. "Feels like forty-two," they said.

I probably sweated all of the fluid out of my body that night. I had slept in my uniform, and my blankets and pillowcase were soaked. My whole bed had developed a pungent funk, and I didn't have time to deal with it before work.

When I stood up out of bed, I saw Mom turn away. She had her back to me, and a blanket was over her, pulled right up to the top of her neck. I couldn't tell what, if anything, she was wearing underneath.

I caught another whiff of myself and grimaced. Moving as quietly as I could, I slid open our closet door and pulled my backup uniform from the hanger. Mom's breathing changed slightly when I did this, and I froze in place, hoping she wouldn't wake. Her quiet snores returned to pace, so I grabbed a set of very conservative undergarments and then made my way down the hall.

Jeremy had left for work already. He is always gone by 5:00am. He works at the country's biggest food terminal. Trucks of produce come from all over the continent and move through there to be distributed to grocery stores and restaurants. It sounds pretty glorious, but in reality it's hard physical labour, and he gets paid shit.

"Most of the action happens at sunrise," Jeremy would say to anyone who ever inquired about his job.

I studied the couch for a second before proceeding into the washroom. Jeremy's "special pillow" had been discarded on the floor in the middle of the couch area. Even from across the room, I could see the large, darkened spot he made while trying to hide his boner. I would have otherwise giggled if I weren't so nervous.

The shower called to me, and I didn't hesitate to answer. It was only seconds before I stripped off my sweaty clothes and stepped over the tub into the shower.

After pulling on the nozzle, the shower sprayed steaming-hot water. It was like everyone in the building was flushing their toilet at the same time. I had to recoil into the corner and grab my tits and hips for protection. Letting go of my tits again, I reached over and managed to turn the shower head to spray directly into the wall.

This was not a new problem, either. The pipes in the building were so old that they rattled and moaned in the walls. I wished I knew more about plumbing to fix it, but ew.

I had experience showering like this before and had worked out a system of spraying the top of the wall and catching water that either rebounded off the wall or poured down the porcelain. Either way, the wall would rapidly cool the water.

I started by pressing the right side of my face against the wall. The cool water soaked down my hair, then flowed on to my shoulders, and finally down around my hip. By the time it flowed around the curve of my ass, it was very cold, and I got a whole-body chill when it came into contact with my perinium.

I turned my back to the wall, and the water poured around me and soaked most of the hair that wasn't already wet. I slid down the wall and was able to sit on the edge of the tub with my knees splayed out to the sides. I reached down and gently stroked my pussy while I began to reminisce about the night before. As I felt the chilly water slide across my anus I was reminded about my mother from the night before. I had forgotten, but she had a taste to her. Citrus, like orange or lemon.

The steam in the shower had started to get so thick I couldn't see my own hand now aggressively rubbing circles on my clit. I used my free hand to reach up and squeeze my right breast while I lost myself in fantasy, and soon the steam hid that too.

I stood up again and turned to face the wall. My hand never left my clit and I leaned forward to press my tits against the chilly wall. The contact on my nipples was electric while I slipped my middle finger inside and started frigging myself.

"Oh God..." I panted and pressed my forehead against the wall. "Please..." I whined in a high pitch to nobody. "Mmm mmm, yes. Mmm. Oh God... Mmm"

I was interrupted by our living room fire alarm blaring and, subsequently, the building's fire alarm blaring. It must have been the steam.

My first thought was of Mom waking up, which led me to get out, get dressed, and make a hurried retreat from the apartment so as not to see her. I didn't have a plan, though. The three of us would have to reconvene at some point. I just feared that they wouldn't feel how I felt and our family would fall apart.

"I love them both so much and would do anything for them," I said to Sunny after situating myself in her driver's seat and putting the windows down.

The parking garage felt cool, and I took a moment to appreciate that. A quiet buzzing sound caught my attention just as I reached for the ignition. I thought for a moment that a bee had flown in, but when I looked out the windshield, I saw a new security camera. It looked shiny and new on a swivel with zoom. Someone must have bolted it there since the day before, and as I watched it zoom in on me, I figured that that somebody was also the one watching.

A subtle, yet unpleasant, odour suddenly hit me. I sniffed a couple times at the air and turned my head to my shoulder. I sniffed at my shoulder, then lifted my arm to check my pit. It was the shirt. It smelled somewhat familiar, like how I remember my grandmother would smell when I would hug her, but not a good smell.

------

Work sucked. I couldn't keep my head straight all morning. I confused two orders on the dispatch sheet and sent two trucks to the wrong addresses. I had to apologise profusely and entertain the complaints of two customers who chose to cuss at me. On top of the verbal abuse, I couldn't stop scratching. My skin was irritated by something on the shirt, and it was beyond itchy. Even worse, it had to be tucked into my pants at work. My pants were clearly not conservative enough, and my hips, thighs, and cheeks were all feeling the itch.

Robert--my supervisor--called me into his office and chewed me out. There was nothing attractive about Robert. He was mean and gluttonous. He often took others' food from the communal fridge, which was clearly marked. He always wore the same mustard-yellow jacket with padded elbows and a matching tie. An even more yellow stain--presumably actual mustard--had been on his tie since April and was slowly fading as it got washed. Robert spent twenty minutes mansplaining the cost of overtime hours and gasoline before telling me to take the rest of the day off and that he would see me on Tuesday.

The familiar sound of Robert's kettle whistling behind him interrupted my exit, and he pulled open a drawer from his desk. He pulled out a sealed container of dried ramen, which he clearly intended to have for lunch. We both looked down to the paper lid and saw that someone had written the word, "Donald."

I didn't want to go home. It was only one p.m., and by the time I got through the mid-afternoon traffic, I would arrive roughly at the same time as Jeremy. Also, the warehouse at work is air conditioned. It would feel good to get this stupid shirt off, though.

I made my way out of the warehouse and winced in discomfort upon exiting the building. The midday heat was unrelenting. When I approached Sunny and pulled my keys from my pocket, I again stopped to wince. She had been sitting in the hot sun all day, and the inside of her was probably a volcano.

When I opened the door, the heat poured out of her. I stood there for a moment, hoping that somehow the car door being open would make it better. It did not.

I sat down and closed the car door behind me. It must have been fifty degrees in Sunny. I sighed and put the windows down before pulling out of my spot and entering the street.

A Wendy's was just around the corner, and I thought that might be a good way to cool off and kill time. I wanted to put off going home for as long as possible. I pulled into the parking lot and found the only free spot, nestled at the end of the row between a property fence and a large passenger van.

Wendy's was packed full of people and smelled like deep-fried everything. I was going to have to wait in line behind nine people, and it didn't look like there was anywhere to sit. Four young men were being loud and rambunctious in line, the four of them making inappropriate jokes about the restaurant's mascot. Two young women seemed to be with the group, but mostly ignored their antics. If I had had the opportunity, I would have been one of these students a couple years ago.

I turned my attention to the menu. I hadn't decided what I wanted to eat yet, but I thought a vanilla frosty would be a nice way to stay cool. I smiled, closed my eyes, and sighed while I fantasised about already having my sweet frozen dessert. The feel of its chill as it melted its way down my throat was going to be heavenly.

The guys ahead of me suddenly went very quiet, and I was snapped out of my trance. Three of them were now whispering to the boy farthest from me. His eyes suddenly went wide, and he turned to me. The girls--obviously having also overheard--turned their surprised expressions in my direction as well.

"Fuck off..." I thought to myself, though I could have screamed it in his face when he approached. Confidently, the young man broke from the crowd and walked toward me with a charming smile. He stood out from the rest of his crowd by wearing blue jeans instead of khakis and, instead of a golf shirt, a tee printed with a faded logo and worn collar. This wasn't one of those other pretty boys.

He stopped in front of me and looked down. He towered over me by about twenty centimetres and opened his mouth to speak, "Hey, my na..."

"Fuck off," I interrupted him, and he shut right up.

It was a compliment, but I was way too hot and upset today to enjoy the attention. He crumpled and retreated back to his group with an almost inaudible, "sorry." The rest of his group laughed their heads off at the poor schmuck before moving to the counter for their huge order.

After receiving their order number, the group moved toward the dining area, and while moving past me, I got a couple winks from the other guys, scowls from both of the girls, and a nervous yet flirty smile from Mr. Blue Jeans. As they all turned their attention away from me, I took the opportunity to check out Mr. BJ's ass, and it looked pretty taught. Maybe I was a bit hasty.

"Lady, you're next," there was a tapping at my shoulder as a man in a reflective vest pointed out from behind me. I moved to the counter and ordered my Frosty. Still mostly undecided about food, I just settled for a large order of fries and figured I would just eat in Sunny since there was nowhere to sit in the restaurant.

Unable to find a place to eat, the group of students all left the restaurant, and when I exited the restaurant, I winced one last time at the sight of the guys from line in the passenger van. The van was dark blue and had sliding doors on both sides. The students had pulled them both open and were complaining about the heat and their own broken air conditioning. It did look like a shitty old van.

The four guys were leaning next to the two open, sliding doors on either side, obscuring the view between me and the ladies. When I walked by the rear of the van, except for a nervous smile from Mr. BJ, I was ignored.

I walked around Sunny, and after clutching my food in one hand, I pulled Sunny's key out of my pocket to unlock her door. I grabbed the side of my shirt to untuck it for some serious relief before getting in. I had parked Sunny under the reach of a tall maple tree in the farthest end of the parking lot, in a corner near the dumpsters. A tall fence bordered the entire rear of the Wendy's, making it a fairly private party for me and the van crew. Looking into my rearview--between the corner of the van and the dumpster--I could only see the drive-thru window.

Backing out was going to be difficult with the limited visibility. The van and its crew were still having their guffaws, and it wasn't apparent if they were leaving soon. I turned the key in Sunny's ignition to check the time: quarter 'til two.

I sighed and decided to wait out the young adults. It was shady under the maple. I had time to kill, and snacks to enjoy. The fries had all fallen loose in the to-go bag, so I put it on the passenger seat, blindly pulled a couple from it, and then casually dipped them in my vanilla frosty. The blend of sweet and salty, with a bit of a crunch and a cool, melty chill that moves from your taste buds to the pit of your stomach. Orgasmic.

A gust of wind blew the branches around above me, and I mindlessly watched the shadows sway across Sunny's tarnished hood while dipping my fries. My neck felt a twinge, and I had to reach under the collar of my shirt to scratch a new itch.

Sunny hadn't heated up much under the shade, but I still needed some air. I was enjoying the voices of Mr. BJ and his friends being muffled by the windows, but I relented and opened the driver's side window a crack to let some of the breeze in, then gave my right side a rough scratching.

"She's still here, you still have a chance," one of the guys' voices carried into Sunny.

"Yeah, go for it, stud," one of the girls said, sounding supportive, if not a little disgusted.

"She probably just wants to be left alone with her lunch," another voice said. I turned my head to face them and made eye contact with the two guys on the far end of the van and the girls inside. On either side of them, I was eye level with a khaki-clad hip that was leaning against the van and Mr. BJ's tightly packaged buns.

The six of them hushed right up when they saw me. From their vantage point, I doubt any of them could have seen the opened window, but they watched for a moment as I bit a frosted French fry in half and scratched my pit.

I couldn't take it anymore, something had to give. I set my frosty down and reached up to undo the top three buttons of my work shirt without hesitation. I pulled open the material, and again, my collarbone and sternum were made available to the world.

Again, it was instant relief. It was clear that the shirt was causing the itching and that removing it was the only solution.

Let me be clear: At this point I was so horny I could have fucked Sunny's gearshift. I had been left frustrated after the night before and unable to finish in the shower. My pussy was aching for a pounding, and I was starting to not give a shit about who knew.

I gave my chest a couple scratches, then pulled open the remaining buttons, twisting them out of the garment. I gave it a toss in the backseat and was left sitting in my work slacks and bra. My bra was sky blue, and some of the material on the right cup was frayed and peeling from it. Nothing was see-through, and the cups rose high on my breasts, but from the right angle, someone would easily be able to see down them.

I turned to my neighbours again and was treated to some wide-open eyes. The khakis closest to me turned a little, and from above, their owner leaned down and openly peered into Sunny. I grinned and wondered why Mr. BJ hadn't yet turned his attention to me; of all of them, I wanted him to see me. I leaned over between the seats and looked up to see what he was doing, and he came down to look at the same time.

We were only about two feet apart, and now all of them were getting a free show to my nipples as my bra fell away from tits. I sat back up in the seat, which returned a modicum of modesty, and picked up my frosty again. The sweat that had been catching in my uniform was now pooling and dripping down the swell of my breasts with a bit of a tickle that gave me a shiver.

I tried to pretend like I hadn't just flashed a bunch of strangers, but I felt all their stares on me still. I sucked at the straw in my drink, exaggerating the amount of suction required, then moved my lips down the straw until it touched my tonsil.

Looking out to my right again, they were all openly staring at me, and I returned their gaze. Mr. BJ and Khakis were leaning on Sunny and trying to see the best angle of my tits again with their faces right to the window. I felt bad for them; they wanted to see me, but I had teased them, and they were probably already at half-mast.

I put my frosty back down in the drink holder, then leaned forward across the gearshift for them again. This time I reached behind me and pinched the clasp so the garment would fall over my bag of fries and leave my sweaty tits on display.

Again, I picked my frosty up and ignored their stares while I reached for another fry. My skin was unfettered but still felt like it was on fire, so I held my frosty against my neck for a moment while it eased the itch.

There was a knock at the window, and I felt unprepared. It was Mr. BJ; he was gesturing to the lock on the door and miming a request to enter. I reached over and lifted the plunger on the door, then Mr. BJ moved the bag onto the console and slid into the seat while nervously grinning at me. He pulled the door shut behind him and gave a geeky thumbs-up to his friends. I figured his friends were likely still pressuring him to make a move on me.

I lowered the frosty down my chest and brought it to rest on the inside of my left tit. The contact and tension brought my left nipple to full attention, and I couldn't help but pull the frosty over to press against it. I closed my eyes briefly while my whole body shivered from the contact, and when I opened them again, they went right to Mr. BJ's bulge.