CHAPTER 10: Monday Shitty Monday
(C) 2023 by Ted Ursi/TeddySmutWriter, all rights reserved.
~~~~^~~~~*~~~~^~~~~*~~~~^~~~~*~~~~^~~~~*~~~~^~~~~*~~~~^~~
I woke up late. I didn't care. Sometime last night someone, probably Mom, had cleaned my hand and wrapped it in gauze. I noted the fact but didn't look to see how bad it was because I didn't care. I barely cared enough to get out of bed to pee.
I went downstairs. Greg was in the kitchen. He had on his lifeguard shorts. "Morning Sis."
"Is it?" I suppose I should make an effort to converse. "Midday shift?"
"Day off," Greg said. "Pool closes Mondays."
"Then why?" I gestured to his shorts. Not that I cared but I felt I was committed to the human interaction thing.
"Mom told me what happened."
"What happened?" What did Mom think happened?
"You crashed like a paraplegic eagle."
"Oh that," I said.
"Making oatmeal," he said.
"Not hungry." That wasn't strictly true.
"I know."
"How the fuck would you know how I feel?" Wow, where did that come from?
"You're a fucking open book Case." The microwave beeped. Greg pulled out a steaming bowl of oatmeal. I could smell honey and butter. Greg dumped in a handful of mixed berries and stirred them in. He put it on the breakfast counter. "Sit. Eat."
It wasn't worth the effort to argue. I sat and shoveled a spoonful into my mouth. I stopped. "Hot."
Greg set a big tumbler of pineapple juice next to me and went to the fridge. He got some two percent and added to my cereal and worked it in.
"You gonna be like that all day?" I asked.
"Like what?"
"All caring and helpful like?"
"How do you want to be treated?"
"I feel like I deserve... worse. Much worse."
"You want me to beat you and drag you around by your hair?"
"I think that's how I got like this," I said. I remembered being totally dominated in the hallway outside my parents' door. Good times. "It was kinda fun."
"So I hear," Greg said. "Sometimes..."
"What?"
"Sometimes I think I'd like for Chloe to... I don't know... ride me like a pony and whip my ass. That sort of thing."
"So do it." I should be smiling at the imagery. I wasn't.
"Other times I want to grab her hair and force my cockβshit!"
"What?" Now that got my interest. Not the hair grabbing, the self interruption.
"Mom said I should avoid talking about sex stuff today."
"And Mom is always right," I said. "She fucks up too Greg."
"Yeah, last Monday was... intense."
"Mondays suck." I said. "Probably a song about it."
"Probably a hundred."
"Yeah," I said. "I think I need what Mom needed then."
"What?"
"I need to be told I did wrong and punished somehow."
"Looks to me like you're being punished right now." He sat down across from me. "Do you think anything I say or do could make you feel worse?"
"Point."
"So what did you do wrong?"
"I completely forgot about Roger and jumped into bed with the first guy that came along."
"But you and he hadβ"
"Don't." I held up my hand. This was sort of the reverse of that first night sharing beers just... eight days ago? "This isn't about logic and reason Greg. It's about how I feel about the situation. You knowβgirl shit."
"Okay," Greg said.
"I didn't think about him all week as I ran around playing super slut." Actually I spent most of the week being annoyed I couldn't slut it up. And I had made that video on Monday and sent it. So I had thought of him some. Probably not as much as he thought about me though.
"Okay," my brother said again.
"I didn't even remember he might try to call on Sunday and set aside time for that." Speaking of which, I wondered where my phone was.
"Okay." Shit, that was getting old fast.
"I mean I was sitting there on Conrad's lap all naked and sexy hoping to feel his cock get hard under me when Roger, probably sitting in some hot ugly barracks surrounded by other sexually deprived guys, was trying to call me just to hear my voice. And if you say 'Okay' one more time you'll be wearing this oatmeal."
"Okay." I took a big spoonful of oatmeal and flung it straight at his chest. Greg rubbed it around between his gorgeously cut pecs. "I hear it's good for the skin."
If I was feeling normal, the new sexy normal not the old boring normal, the situation would have turned into a sexy food fight. It didn't because I didn't care enough. And Greg was all Mr. Self Control.
"I want to grab that oatmeal and rub it all over you and then maybe spank you," Greg said. "But I'm told we need to give your hormonal ducts a chance to recover."
"And we mustn't disturb the hormonal duckies on their day off, mustn't we?" I stopped and closed my eyes. I felt something weird about the lower half of my face. Was I smiling? "Hormonal duckies..."
I looked across at Greg. He was sitting there smiling like a big goof with oatmeal dripping down his chest. Almost I wanted to kiss him and lick him clean. "I think I'm going to be okay Bro."
"I know you will Rusty Wusty," Greg said.
"How the fuck would you know that?" Again we heard from the troll in the back of the room.
"Eighteen plus years of experience."
Shit fuck. How the fuck did I get men like this in my life? Dad, Greg, Roger and now Conrad. I should be grateful but I knew I didn't deserve them. I was a fucking impostor in their lives. They all deserved better than me.
I sat there looking down at my mostly empty bowl. I guess I had been eating on autopilot.
Greg reached across and wiped the corner of my eye. "Hey now, that's just the duckies quacking. It's not you."
I guess my duckies needed to break the awkwardly wonderful bonding moment. I belched.
We giggled. I asked, "Have you seen my phone?"