Chapter Three
Compromising Positions With Amanda
Twirling her long brown hair with one slender hand, the very pretty and recently turned eighteen year-old Amanda Robles stood pensive in the doorway that led to the garage-converted-into-a-workshop-and-recreation-room. She'd just gotten home from school about an hour ago. Amanda changed into a tiny white blouse with spaghetti straps, and a pair of tight, pink cotton shorts. Shortly after, she'd gone into the small rec. room. The pretty teen was in the process of getting her clothes out of the dryer, where they'd been sitting the entire day. Just that morning, she'd spurred the appliance into motion to speed-dry the form-fitting denim skirt she'd worn to class, and abandoned everything else.
Amanda was entirely absorbed in unloading the stale dryer and carelessly piling the remainder of her clothing into a white plastic basket. She nearly jumped into the air when she heard a loud noise coming from the darkened portion of the recreation room. It was her dad; spread all over the old brown couch located against the far wall, undoubtedly drunk and snoring like a hibernating bear.
The pretty girl might have quickly finished up her errand, if only to flee from the loud emanations. As she'd stood there by the dryer, she noticed that a few tiny slivers of sunlight had dared enter into the otherwise shadowy room. The pale rays had fallen upon the portion of the couch where her dad's fuzzy legs were drooped and draped, and his thighs were splayed open like some crooked wishbone.
Amanda's dad had gone into his alcohol-induced slumber wearing his usual baggy black shorts. He called them his comfy shorts. Now, with both of the man's legs stretching off in different directions, the soft fabric had ridden up high on his oblivious thighs. What was revealed by the combination of sunlight and shifted shorts was nothing less than a very formidable and half erect specimen of the male genitalia.
It was big, Amanda thought to herself. No, more than big. It was huge, so huge she'd almost bitten through her bottom lip as she thought furiously about what she was going to do next.
Of course, walking out of the rec. room had been the first and most logical choice. After all, who really wanted to see their forty-four year old father dead drunk and half naked on a couch? In fact, Amanda had already taken a few steps away, with her clothing basket in tow, heading towards the sliding glass doors leading to the outside. She might have successfully walked away too, except for a couple of extenuating factors that were now coming into play.
First off, since Amanda figured she was all alone in the house once she'd gotten home from school, she'd gone ahead and taken a couple of beers from the fridge. The resultant buzz from the hastily consumed cans of alcohol was in full throttle. That had been strong enough to override her common sense and allow her to gaze longingly at the monster meat, the meat that she swore was staring back at her with malicious intent.
Secondly, her tough guy boyfriend had gotten himself arrested again, this time for smoking weed in a public park with a couple of his homeboys. He'd been locked up for over two weeks now. Ever since then, a very neglected Amanda had begun to feel even friskier than usual.
The teen was just standing there in the shadows, gazing, gawking. She nearly bolted for the door when her father snorted and started adjusting himself on the couch. His loud snoring dropped several notches once he stopped fidgeting, from registering on the Richter scale to something much less grating on the ears. The half a dozen empty beer cans lying on the floor confirmed that Pablo Senior would be out for hours, as per his usual routine when he got home from work.
With a mischievous look in her eyes, the wicked teen quietly lowered her clothing basket to the floor. Amanda took the short time to slide the rec. room's curtains almost all the way across the glass doors for ensured privacy, except for a little space on the edge. Once that was done, she dared step closer for a more intimate angle, to investigate the slumbering man further.
Pablo Senior could be considered a handsome man, the mischievous teen thought. His nicely tanned skin and thick arms extended randomly from the flimsy cover of the gray tank top. As she stealthily approached her father, she found herself admiring his muscular chest as well. The man's stomach could have been just a little flatter, she mused, but it was far from a disgusting beer belly. Amanda was already imagining running her hands over his arms and chest, when her view shifted downward.
Her eyes started on his bare feet, as his sandals rested on the floor next to the couch. They slid over to take in his toned calves and strong thighs, noting how the hair ascended from soft curls into thick vines as they forested his groin. Taking a deep breath, Amanda boldly rested her eyes on the fat penis. She estimated it to be as thick as her wrist, and it was only at half-mast. What would that thing look like when it was fully aroused? Like a bottle of shampoo? A soft moan escaped Amanda's delicate lips. The more she stared at the cock, the more excited she felt her young and nubile body become.
Again her father shifted in his sleep. Although his movement was slight, Amanda still froze with mounting tension. His mouth was moving, muttering words that were barely audible to her ears. Amanda had to hold her breath as she leaned forward to catch a few of them. Did her father just say the name Carmela? Was he mumbling something about a tune-up on Carmela's SUV? Or was it a tune-up on Carmela herself? Amanda chuckled quietly. Again, she heard her older sister-in-law's name mentioned dreamily.
Her father was fantasizing about Carmela, Amanda realized. After a moment she thought, why not? Amanda was sure her dad wasn't getting any action lately, as her mom and dad had been arguing like drama queens every other day. Carmela was decent, if you were into the snobby, high-maintenance, athletic type.
But Amanda had plenty going on, too. She was five-foot-four and weighed in at a trim one hundred and ten pounds. She'd been blessed with perky B cup breasts, a lean waist, sexy thighs and an ass that all the boys drooled over. The consensus at her high school was that she was built like one of those Mexican soap opera stars.
A girl like her should be able to have any guy she wanted, Amanda lamented, recalling her insanely jealous and violent boyfriend. In truth, the boys at school, the teachers, the security guards, and nearly every male she came across couldn't help but gawk at her perfect hourglass figure. Their stares honed in on her every time she passed by, as it was her custom to wear revealing blouses and tight jeans. Unfortunately, ogling and drooling was as far as any of them got. If they tried anything past that, like passing a note to her in class, or brazenly striking up a conversation with her in public, her boyfriend would somehow find out and threaten to give them the pounding of their lives. Even while locked up in juvenile hall, her boyfriend was a mythical menace to society.
