Following is the fifth installment in a completely fabricated tale about fictional characters all of whom are above the age of eighteen and are not otherwise unable to legally consent to sex. There will be descriptions of illicit acts which are not appropriate for all audiences. I suggest checking out
Relative Deviant
, and it's first three sequels, if you haven't already. If you have, first I'd like to thank you for joining me on this journey. Second, you'll notice a slight deviation in the storyline, but I beg you be patient as it fits into a larger narrative. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Relative Deviant 5
My brand-new steel belted radials plowed the through chert rock parking lot as I rolled into the closest space I could find. It wasn't necessarily packed for a Saturday night, but a hearty crowd had made a showing none the less. Unusually loud and unrefined tunes twanged from inside, hinting there was live local music.
The Rec was an old-fashioned pool hall, complete with arcade games and short order kitchen. Music either came from the modest stage or most of the time a juke box. There were coin-op tables or for the more discerning player, full, professional nine-footers in the back for rent by the hour.
It was becoming rarer to find a place like that which catered to the eighteen and up demo. Owners were starting to figure out that their liquor license was their lifeline and didn't dare risk anybody getting busted underage drinking at their joint. Still, we were off the beaten path a good piece and it was a more forgiving time to be under twenty-one.
Ms. Dolly was the blue-haired old lady who had owned the place for as far back as anybody could remember. Dad even said she worked the bar back when he was my age. She sure as hell remembered the day when blue laws weren't so strictly enforced. In fact, if you weren't a troublemaker, she didn't mind looking the other way when if an adult wanted to buy a beer.
"If you're old enough to vote and go die for your country, you oughta be old enough to have a drink once in a while." She had been infamously quoted many times over.
This was the first place I'd ever legitimately exchanged my own hard-earned money for alcohol. Come to think of it, I had many firsts at The Rec. My ex and I gave my pick-up truck a proper christening by sneaking out for a quick stab in the cab one time. So, in a way I was on hallowed ground.
Once inside, I beheld such a plethora of pretty women. There were so many, I could have stood there gawking all night and probably still not seen them all. They were all dolled up; hair and makeup to the nines and showing plenty of skin. Tan legs sprouted from mini-skirts and necklines plunged, revealing copious cleavage.
As intriguing as it would be to just walk up to the nearest hottie I saw and start chatting her up, my skills at reeling in strange, I'm sure had dulled. Having just come out of a long relationship and, most recently, with my wedding tackle mostly occupied keeping my aunt in the lifestyle she'd become accustomed to, there was really no need to go trolling night spots. I did, however, manage that stroke of boldness that led to me landing Tiffany. With a lack of drive from being inundated with pussy I didn't need to press her to or anyone else to get physical.
That was another thing; something I hadn't considered. I hadn't had quite enough down time to think about how that afternoon's events were going to change other aspects of my life. Aunt Teri giving me the boot was just the first domino. Without her meeting my needs five days a week, sooner or later my new sweetheart was going to find out what a pervert I was. If she wasn't up to the challenge, would I be able to stay patient enough to stay with her?
"Whatever," I thought. "Deal with it later." I came out as a diversion from that whole mess.
Meeting up with Stacy, that was my objective. I didn't have time to jockey for a hook-up or mope over my aunt dumping me. Should I luck out and I did line up some nookie, having dropped three loads in the past twenty-four hours, I probably wouldn't be able to follow through. I'd probably cum powdered milk, anyway.
Through the abundance of eye candy, I finally spotted her towards the back where the rental tables were. A white, flowery sun dress garbed this stunning five-and-a-half-foot babe who was chalking her cue and studying the table. She leaned in for a shot and her hem rode up just enough to reveal the deep cut chevrons of her hamstrings engraved on the backs of her thighs.
Before I made myself known, I just had to take a moment and picture her fit, naked body from our encounter in the pool house. She was a dime as far back as I could remember, but a few months out west had done her some serious justice. I didn't have the pleasure of getting a glimpse of her now beardless clam, but I wagered it was similarly exquisite. While having tragically been dismissed by my lover, I could take comfort in the fact that my spank bank was going to be chock full.
Shay spotted me first and nudged Stacy after she made her shot. I could see them exchange words and she pointed me out to her. Her face beamed. She tossed her stick aside and galloped over to welcome me.
"Yay, you made it, cuz." She announced as she threw her arms around my neck and just like earlier in the pool house, laid a sloppy kiss on my cheek. "The way I practically had to beg you earlier, I didn't think you'd show.
"Yeah, thought I'd come class up the place. It's all part of my tireless charity work." I said with a cocky half smile.
"Sometimes I worry about your confidence." She retorted, derisively.
Shay lined up for her turn and completely whiffed, sending the cue ball to bang off three side cushions without hitting anything else. They were playing eight ball and it looked like Stacy was shooting for stripes with only slightly more skill than her partner. When she knocked in the three, I knew this game was going nowhere.
"You make your money with shot selection, honey." I mocked, while pointing out the nine on the rim of a side pocket.
She just rolled her eyes and retreated to a nearby pub table. Her hand felt around and landed on a longneck bottle. She lifted it and looked down, disappointed. Putting it back down, she picked up a second bottle, swirled it around and then took a swig from it.
"Looks like you're empty," she informed Shay as she approached. She picked up Stacy's bottle and put it to her lips. "I'm empty too." She added with a giggle.
"I guess you guys aren't concerned with swapping germs." I quipped.
"What? Drinking after each other? That's nothing." Stacy sassed.
She beckoned Shay over with a mischievous look. She acquiesced moving over to her, stood on her tiptoes and took my cousin by the hips. Their lips met like impassioned lovers, heads tilted opposite each other and rotating subtly. Every head in the place probably was fixed on the two of them tongue wrestling out in plain sight. After maybe half a minute, they broke contact and smooched two or three more times before Shay sauntered off to the bar.
I watched the back of her mini skirt intently until her taught, skinny ass had propelled her out of earshot. Turning my attention back to my cousin, I raised my eyebrows giving her the reaction that I'm sure she was looking for. She sat there, giddy, kicking her legs while they dangled from the stool.
"Wow!" I gasped. "Care to explain that?"
"Oh, that's nothing. At frat parties and stuff, freshman girls don't usually get noticed as much. We did that one time and we're suddenly belles of the ball." She explained.
"Wait, she goes to school with you? I thought she was one of Jill's friends or something."
"No," she said. "She lives in my dorm. Didn't I introduce you? I invited her down for a few days."
