The Fuck Toy Graduation Ep 4: Taylor's Cocksucking Lessons
"Jealous." Taylor thought. "My mom's jealous!"
The thought greeted Taylor the moment she came aware Tuesday morning. The thought appeared spurious at once and Taylor shook it off. It had some validity, some depth of logic and sensibility. Since they were little, Tara had favored her youngest daughter over her eldest. Taylor felt it as a thousand little slights, slices aimed at her self-esteem that bubbled up in her and her response emerged as arrogance and a drive that Anne lacked, a lack that gave her mother plenty of chagrin. In Tara's way of thinking, her two adult daughters had between them the makings of a premier dancer. Anne, to Tara's thinking, had the poise, the grace, the disposition, and the beauty required to truly enchant an audience, impress judges and astonish patrons of the arts. Taylor carried the drive in her bones, the athletic prowess and the simple meanness to fight through the pain, competition and struggle that every great dancer had to endure to make it her life. Tara knew this even as Mrs. Dougherty knew it.
The two of them had coffee together from time to time and Taylor knew for a fact that they discussed both her and her sister. Mrs. Dougherty often referenced Tara Dillon's opinion in dressing down Taylor's failures or justifying her own favoritism of Anne when it came to assigning roles in their dance routines. Taylor could fly, Mrs. Dougherty often said, but Anne could land and the landing was what people remembered.
The result was a simmering resentment in Taylor that she kept in check, never letting it show, coddling it for the moment when she could release it safely to do the damage to its objects and leave her unscathed. This, she recognized with some chagrin, was the skill that Ky possessed and had, through various administrations of that skill to Taylor's grief, demonstrated it fully. And Taylor learned. She loved to dance but she envied the eyes on the other girls in the troupe, how their bodies attracted the eyes of audience and judge alike, but she only gained praise for her athleticism and her work ethic. Once Taylor overheard Mrs. Dougherty discussing her girls. She referred to Taylor as the "reliable plow horse" and to Anne as "my Lipizzaner. Taylor had to go look Lipizzaner up to discover what new metaphor Mrs. Dougherty had discovered to demean her. Anne was a treasured Austrian Stallion, a Stallion! Despite the sometime preference, Mrs. Dougherty respected her and treated her fairly, usually, and only lost her perspective after having Tara Dillon whispering in her ear about her two daughters.
This was much of the background of Taylor's waking thought that her mother was jealous, why it seemed absurd, at least at first. She dismissed it from her mind, sitting up and reaching for her diary, intending to write about her Monday and finish the entry on the weekend. Instead, she found a terse note in black ink.
"Anne will be yours. Take her while you can. This opportunity will not last. Act and have her or lose her forever."
Taylor stared at the note and closed the diary. Her body sang with the memory of her sister, naked, salaciously kissing her as they lay together in her bed last night. Her body had responded and lust welled up in her at the memory, drowning out the past and the resentment. It was this feeling, that large lust lodged behind her sternum that gave validity to her feeling that her mother felt jealous of her and her sister. Her mind dismissed it. Yet, she retained the thought that her mother would feel jealous if she knew that Taylor could seduce her younger, adult sibling and make her...Taylor didn't finish the thought. The words that fit there did not bubble to the surface of her conscious mind until much later...hiding their meaning from Taylor and likely Tara as well. Tara would be jealous of Taylor if she could seduce Anne because Tara couldn't. The barrier between them seemed impenetrable but that thought and its import explained her mother's behavior.
Anne was destined to resemble Tara but in a leaner way, hopefully not with the flowering that had knocked Mrs. Dougherty off her path to glory. Anne appeared to be a perfect blend of feminine charm, curves, and lithe ability, traits that Tara imagined she possessed or would have had she not been pregnant with Taylor at seventeen. In a heated argument, what others would refer to as a fight, she'd informed Taylor that her, Tara's life would have been very different had she not borne Taylor at such an early age and lost her chance to even try to dance competitively. Taylor felt the sting of that resentment and realized that her mother's antagonistic judgment had roots far deeper in the past than their constant squabbles. It was much later that Taylor understood her resemblance to her father, John Dillon, had something to do with that clash, too, but as with the whole of the friction between mother and daughter, that tidbit remained far out of sight until events dragged it into the light.
So Taylor woke, rejecting the idea that her imperious and demanding mother could stoop so low as to be jealous of Taylor. Still, she was wise enough to note that the thought had seen her off to sleep and greeted her when she woke and that simple fact gave it some weight that her conscious mind rejected otherwise. Breakfast, however, forced her to confront the reality that the thought as a possibility was real...it also provided Taylor with the perfect justification for conspiring with Anne to entwine her in the web of sexual perversity that seemed to have captured Taylor. Anne and Tara would not escape it any more than Taylor would. They all would try but for significantly different reasons.
At breakfast, Tara asked Anne if she was riding to school with Colette, her best friend from childhood. Colette Larson was a black girl who was born on the same day as Anne and ran track with Taylor. Her father was a district attorney and she had a twin sister who also ran track but did not like Anne or Taylor. Where Collete was elegant and graceful, Connie was hip hop and gangsta. Collette wore her hair in long flowing waves of straightened black hair and Connie preferred cornrows or dreads. Their resemblance was only apparent if one studied their faces and that invited the comparisons of their lithe athletic bodies which in the last year has grown muscular and curvaceous but were exactly the same.
"No. I'm riding in with Taylor this morning." Anne said with a sly smile before glancing at Taylor.
Taylor was surprised at the assertion and chewed on that without comprehension, for Anne had not said anything of the like to Taylor.
"Taylor, I'm sorry. I forgot, I need the car today. I'll take you and Anne to school to day." Tara Dillon drank her coffee and left the room.
Anne looked at Taylor.
"She knows!" Anne hissed.
"How?" Taylor asked, feeling vertigo at finding herself aligned with Anne against their mother. It was most often Anne and Tara who combined to prick Taylor with their needling. The feeling of having Anne cosied up close to her made Taylor exuberant and wary at the same time. That simple feeling of having a deep rapport with her own sister had been denied to her by the shadow of her overbearing mother, critical and demanding with neither the art of sarcasm or the effort to dull or blunt her direct thrusts at Taylor while praising Anne for similar behavior. The moment took away Taylor's breath.
Anne shrugged.
"She always knows. Somehow." Then Anne smiled a lurid smile that was unmistakable in its intent. "I don't care, Taylor. I want to finish what we started last night."
Taylor had no chance to respond because her mother reentered the room and urged them both to finish and get ready to leave for school. Taylor felt the vertigo until the moment she walked up the front steps of Swanson high and her phone dinged. Anne was right beside her and stopped when she stopped to check her text message. It was from Ky.
"Taylor, Mr. Crowder is waiting! Time to suck him!" The text read.
Taylor shivered.
"I have to go." She whispered.
