Laws a mighty! Praise be and slaughter the fatted calf! Herb and Dianne's precious first born child has arrived home safe, sound and in one piece! If I hadn't known by the approach of Thanksgiving, the "Welcome Home" banner scrawled across the dry erase board (usually reserved for Herb and/or Dianne's sparse communications with me), told me the golden child was due to arrive home from college.
Princess, given name Madeline, is my older sister. She was salutatorian of her graduating class, due to cheating by that malicious
jap
bitch; according to Herb anyway, but anyone who bested his Princess had to be doing something shady. Not to mention that the fact that Janet Yamasaki is a third generation American, and half white seemed to be lost on Herb as he defended Princess' honor with a racial epithet.) Princess was the captain of the girls' softball and volleyball teams, as well as a state champion debater. Had she not been my sister and an utterly repulsive cunt, I might have rubbed a few out fantasizing about her. A 21 year old college senior with 36c tits, shoulder length auburn hair with natural blonde highlights and jade green eyes alone can make most guys hot and bothered, and a body kept pristine and strong due to her athletics.
I on the other hand am the proverbial red-headed step-child, even though I am not red headed, nor am I a step child. I am almost a male version of Dianne, with my sandy brown hair, and greenish blue eyes, I have never been high in their favor. I dropped out of high school two years ago at age 16 and a half, the legal age that I no longer needed Herb and Dianne to ok the drop.
Princess was bought any little thing her heart desired, and when he still spoke to me with any regularity, Herb
LOVED
to remind me how I borrowed $120 from him once, and that Princess never borrowed a cent. In the interest of keeping the peace and not losing the one thing he did provide for me, the roof over my head, I never told him that she never borrowed from him because all she had to do was bat her eyes and the daddy ATM spit cash out to her. He also never mentioned that I repaid the $120 two weeks later with interest. It was simple, Princess could do no wrong, I didn't exist.
Sunday evening before turkey day, I was in my bedroom getting dressed for an evening of cruising the boulevard looking for pussy, with my buddy Mike and two liters of vodka, when I heard Dianne squeal like a Siamese cat getting corn-holed by John Holmes. That was the signal that told me that precious had indeed arrived. My goal now was to get out of the house before she could corner me and regale me with tales of her scholastic pursuits that I gave a flying fuck less about. I finished buttoning my black shirt and ran a brush through my own shoulder length tresses and started down the stairs toward my evening. I just wasn't quick enough.
"Little Bro! Are you losing weight?"
This question never failed to piss me off. She stood 5' 10" and weight 120 pounds and looked damn good. She definitely took after the balding fuck that bankrolled her every move. I, unfortunately, took after Dianne. I am 5' 8" 140 pounds, last I weighed anyway, but my jeans did feel a bit loose this evening. She always ran around with the football players while I was the right size to be a towel boy.
"Steve. Do you have a few minutes to gab with your sis?"
"Sorry Princess," she hated me calling her that, but many of the things I would like to call her would infuriate Herb and I needed his roof at least until Sunday when my best friend Mike and I were renting a house on our own. "I gotta run; Mike and two liters of vodka are waiting. Try me around the "second coming," I might have a free minute then." With that I descended the last few stairs and headed for my car.
My car seemed to be another sore spot with this bunch. Herb drives a brand new Lincoln Navigator every model year. He's the manager of business accounts at the bank and is definitely not hurting for scratch. Dianne drives a new Lexus; a perk of managing the Lexus dealership, she's not scraping bottom either. Princess was bought a brand new Lexus for her 16
th
birthday. Upon graduating high school she was given a brand new BMW convertible. I saved my funds, earned by mowing countless lawns and shoveling countless driveways, since I was 14 and my job at Charley's Guitar Heaven in the strip mall on the boulevard. At age 17 I had enough to buy a beat up '70 Chevy Nova SS. With loads of help from Mike and his dad, who run a garage in town, I turned that car into the Candy Apple Blue beast that now sat on the side of the three car garage attached to the house. I didn't even get a spot in there while Princess was at school, although once last summer I did sneak it in during a hail storm. The Nova was the third quickest car of a bunch of guys with older muscle cars that spent most evenings parked at Johnny's Drive In, an old burger joint on Stripling Boulevard, or the 'vard as we locals called it. We all rolled serious horses and no one fucked with us.
As I backed out of the drive way I could see Herb giving me the stink eye through the dining room window, he'd no doubt been told of my failure to greet his darling little cunt in a proper manner. Fuck him!! I managed to dodge her and her condescending shit for the whole two months she was home during the summer; six days should be a snap. Knowing Herb was watching I weighed my options, I could dump the clutch and make the car launch on two wheels for most of the block, I could smoke the tires for that same distance and piss him off by leaving black tracks on the street for the neighbors to see, or I could roll out like a normal person would. Fuck normal, I opted to smoke em and left black marks all the way down the block.
Twenty minutes later I arrived at Mike's. He jumped in the car carrying two liter bottles of vodka and a gallon of orange juice.
"Dude, the old man's fuckered up already. Ya got here just in time."
Mikes dad was a great guy during the day when he was sober. But when he and Jimmy Beam got rollin,
"Look the Fuck out
!!!" the shit was on.
"Where to dude? I hear the swine are really watchin' the 'vard lately, I counted six just on the way over here."
"Yeah," he tells me, "Gary got popped for his mufflers last night, no one was even racing! Let's head to the shop; Craig and Gary are sposed to meet us there. Gary wants to replace his pipes to save the ticket."
"Cool, plus oinkers can't tell us shit for boozing there!"
We arrived at the auto shop that Mike and his dad ran, to find Gary and Craig waiting for us. Gary has a sweet GTO that romps almost every car that he races. Craig has a Duster that is about $5000 away from being elite. Mike has an Olds 442 that rivals my Nova, but the one car none of us can touch is Don's Chevelle. We spent most of the evening drinking and watching Gary install his new exhaust. Giving him shit about everything he did seeing who could elicit a reaction. Then they started giving me shit about Princess being home and the possibility that Shelby James would stay at my house for a night.
One advantage of having a hot, popular sister is her hot popular friends that come to visit. My bedroom window overlooks the sundeck in our back yard, so much of my free time has been spent there ogling tanning beauties, and sometimes they'd forget I was there and get naked. The hottest friend to come over was also her best friend, Shelby James. Perfect doesn't begin to describe Shelby. Long blonde hair, blue eyes a pert nose, luscious red lips, and perfect tits and ass. She's definitely fap material. On one occasion, around 3:00 in the morning, I walked into the bathroom that connects Princess and my bedrooms together and about came in my shorts. Standing there naked as the day she was born was Shelby! She had one foot up on the toilet and had three fingers deep in her snatch. She didn't seem to notice me as I stared in disbelief. I backed out of the bathroom and pissed out my window, hoping I was watering Dianne's plants in the process, and then crawled into bed and proceeded to rub my cock raw.
I never told the guys about that night, but they knew I had seen Shelby and a few others in the buff. Around 3 in the morning we decided to vacate the shop before the bakery across the street opened and we attracted attention of those who might inquire of Mike's dad why there were kids drinking there at all hours of the night. We had the use of the shop whenever we wanted and didn't care to jeopardize that. We drove out on the Seven Lakes Road to the bluffs. We sat on the bluffs drinking, bullshitting and watching the sunrise color the lakes where we have been fishing since we were old enough to ride our bikes out to the lakes.
The other three guys split around 7 am, I however didn't have to be to work until 1 pm so I caught a catnap in my car and went home around 8:30 when I was sure Herb and Dianne had left for work and Princess would be dreaming dreams of herself. I had just laid down when my phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Get your hand off of your cock and bring your ass in Stevie." It was Charley Martinelli, my boss, "The numb cunt left on vacation and neglected to tell me until this morning." The "cunt" referred to Allison, a girl he hired to cover the store while I was giving guitar lessons or dealing with overflow customers. Charley himself rarely did more than just office work and pay bills, while he trusted me to run most everything else. He did occasionally give lessons, and his wife Helen taught piano. She has taught three generations, including yours truly, to play.
"I'm on my way Charley."
"Good kid, see you in a few."
I hung up the phone and realized I needed to sober and shower quickly. I head to the kitchen and mix up this wheat germ shit that Dianne drinks, with a cup of lemon juice. I chug it in the kitchen and know that I have enough time to rinse the glass, put it in the dishwasher, and get upstairs to the bathroom before my stomach forcefully ejects its content. A puke, a hot shower, and a cup of coffee will have me ready to work in no time.
I make it to the toilet just in time to launch a nights worth of vodka into the porcelain alter. I strip and start the shower deciding to flush after I'm done in case I need to puke again, fearing flushing might wake Princess forcing me to have to deal with the bitch. I'm standing in the shower, enjoying the hot water cascading down my body when the memory of Shelby James going knuckles deep in my bathroom flashes through my brain. My cock gets hard and I figure, "why not deal with it." The movie in my head is showing Shelby, naked with her foot up on the toilet. Her beautiful face a picture of sexual bliss as her fingers work in and out of her shaved quim. I can see her juices coating her fingers and can hear the squish sounds her digits make in her pussy. A few minutes of stroking and my cock launches my cum in four powerful jets. As my orgasm peaks I swear I hear a sound, like a gasp from the bathroom behind me. I rinse the soap from my eyes and turn to find an empty bathroom. "Figment of your imagination," I tell myself as I finish my shower and go get dressed for work.
The day went really well at work. I sold a personal best $12000 worth of equipment and lessons. Around 3:00 Princess' off and on boyfriend Diesel came in to the store to ask me if I knew if Princess was out and about. I told him he should probably want to check the truck stop parking lot. He walked out mumbling some shit under his breath, but I could care less what he tells her.
Nothing really happened Monday night or Tuesday. Princess was out when I got home Monday night, and she was still asleep when I left for the day Tuesday. I didn't set any sales record on Tuesday but I did finally get Danny Butler to grasp an arpeggio scale and how to apply it. Around 2:00 I saw Shelby and Princess walking past the store, trying to look non-shallant as they looked into the windows. I pretended I didn't see them, but wondered why they'd be down here on the South side in a strip mall whose biggest boast was that there was a Wal Mart One block down. Normally the "spoiled bitch crowd" would be at the far trendier Birchwood Mall on the north side.
Tuesday evening I ended up hanging out with the guys at Johnny's waiting for anyone who wanted to race one of us, for cash of course, I wouldn't race anyone unless less at least $300 was on the line. Craig got there about half an hour after I did. "I've got some interesting news for you guys," Craig said as he got out of his car. "Seems that Diesel's doctor daddy done spent a fortune buying Diesel a brand new Mustang and had Northwitch's do some custom tuning. Now he thinks he'll beat any of us." After much laughter, it was determined a couple guys had seen him out and about and no one was impressed.
