(c)2023 by Ted Ursi/TeddySmutWriter, all rights reserved.
Warning: The author is an asshole. He built this story like rickety old emotional roller coaster of dubious structural integrity. When you think things are going just fine you'll suddenly lurch sideways into something completely different. Sorry, not sorry.
Read the tags. But don't expect the category to be treated the way you expect. In fact expect it to be radically different. Again sorry, not sorry.
Like many stories here on Literotica, this one exists in a world where consequence free sex is possible. The physical ones anyway. The emotional and relationship shit is what drives the plot and are half the fun.
All characters engaging in sexual activity are legal adults. The opinions and desires of the characters are their own and not meant to reflect opinions or desires of any living person, including the author.
Enjoy.
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CHAPTER 1: New House Rules
Some girls meditate by doing nude yoga. Not me. I do naked metal air guitar.
Sunday after church I was up in my room dancing and strumming away to Epica wearing only pink ankle socks and my ear buds turned up way too loud. That's why the text notice from my phone hit me like a sonar ping from a Los Angeles class nuclear submarine. Ow.
I grabbed my phone and looked:
DAD: Turn your earbuds down Casey, you didn't hear me knock. And come downstairs, we're having a family meeting.
He used my actual name, not "Rusty," so he was a bit miffed.
ME: OK Dad
Dad doesn't like text abbreviations. He says there's really no excuse with assisted text. He's kinda sorta right and I'm past that space where I did things just to annoy him. Teenage girls can be just so... problematic that way. Even though I still technically was one for the next seven hundred odd days or so I felt I was far more mature than that. I was a woman! An actual woman! More on that later.
I slipped on my favorite T-shirt―Grandpa Clarke's old and faded red XXL USMC shirt―and some cutoff sweat pants. I then ran downstairs to the dining room. I didn't bother to close my bedroom door because, unless I took time and care, it would just pop open again. I think the frame was warped or something.
Mom, Dad and my twin brother Greg were already there. Dad was standing with Mom seated next to him. Greg was sitting at the opposite end his ridiculous muscles seeming to ripple even though he was still. I took a seat on the side halfway. "Sorry... sorry... wassup Dad?"
Dad smiled at me. Miffness canceled I guess. "Well first off congratulations to both of you for the scholarships."
Greg had a full ride athletic scholarship to Billing, a smaller school in the Midwest for gymnastics and―would you believe―cheerleading? He was actually shorter than me by an inch but outweighed me by twenty pounds, all of it muscle. Otherwise you could tell we were siblings with our facial bone structure and mops of auburn hair. Why I ended up being "Rusty" while he was always just "Greg" is a mystery from the dawn of time....
Anyways I had a tuition only scholarship to a closer school to which I could commute. That it was bigger and more prestigious didn't matter. I didn't get to do the whole away at school thing unless I worked off my ass at some shit job to get my own place.
"Thanks Dad" we both chimed in.
"And your mother got her new car."
"No more Libby?" Greg asked.
Libby was Mom's battered '04 Jeep Liberty. We'd practically grown up in the back seat of that car. We all loved her, as quirky as she was. I Knew I was going to miss Libby. I'd taken my driving test in that car. You never forget your first.
"Well no" Mom said. "The dealer's trade in offer was insultingly low, so we decided to keep her."
"Yea!" I said. Besides my fondness the aging Jeep, it meant we were now a three car family.
"What did you decide to buy Mom?" Greg asked.
"I was going to get the Renegade but finally went with the Rav 4." She sounded apologetic.
Ick, I thought. Crossovers are an abomination upon this Earth. The Renegade had been bad enough: Chrysler shamelessly chasing after the urban hipster car market while trying to keep a Liberty vibe as well meant failing miserably at both IMHO. The only thing Jeep like was the headlights and vertical grill. Also keep in mind Dad drives Charger. Grampa Clarke drove an F150 all his long life. So going with the Toyota broke the family tradition of domestic wheels. Grandpa would have openly sneered at her new "rice burner."
Yeah, I know that whole domestic and import line was so blurry a thing these days but family tradition is family tradition you know? Mom was looking around the table defensively. "I like the features and the dealer gave a much better price."
"Moving on to the next item..." Dad said.
"Your father and I are booked on a cruise in September." Mom said. "We'll be gone a week plus."
"Great," Greg said. "But why wait until September? You two deserve a vacation now."
"We decided to wait until you two hellions were occupied with school again before we left you two alone in this house." Dad said.
"That's not fair Bob, they're both responsible adults." Mom said. "Plus kids it's when Bill and Towanda will be free to join us."
"I was joking Dear," Dad said. He actually looked nervous. "Sorta... which leads to the last item."
Team Parent looked at each other for a heavyweight second and then they both nodded.
Mom smiled brightly "We've been talking about this for some time..."
Dad chimed in "And since you both are indeed responsible young adults..."
"But still capable of missteps..." Mom conceded.
Dad nodded to her in acknowledgment. "We would rather you two... How can I―we say this..."
What the fuck? I looked at Greg who looked back wide eyed and shrugged.