Weasel

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Weasel last won the day on November 29 2018

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    Bathroom Control
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  1. Hello, everybody. A heads-up for first-time readers: if you're a desperation or waiting-in-line fan, you'll probably appreciate the bulk of this story even without any context, but toward the end there will be a lot of character development and references to prior stories. To fully appreciate all the character moments in here, you'll need to go all the way back to "Season 1" of the Meagan & Parker Saga. PM me if you're interested in getting the downloads of Seasons 1 and 2. If you'd rather skip to the fun stuff, scroll down until you see this: ----------------------------- And now, for all my readers, I have an ANNOUNCEMENT: I am retiring from writing these stories. Relax: you'll have a few more tales from me before I go. I'll finish Parker's plotline. But after that, I'm going to step away for a long time. Probably not forever... but it's a possibility. When I first decided to write "Season 3" and create a setting for Meagan and Parker in a college house, rather than a dorm, this story, "The Pile-Up," was the one I really wanted to tell. A true classic waiting-in-line story in which everybody needs to use the bathroom all at once. As I worked my way through the season, this was the goal. Maximum desperation, maximum college-girl hotness. But as I wrote, I got more and more into the story of Meagan and Parker's relationship. And by the time I got around to writing "The Pile-Up," I realized that I was actually much more excited about writing their relationship than writing the desperation. And when I did work out a rough draft, I caught myself thinking, Darn it, I really need to add more desperation -- as if it had become a chore, something that needed to be done in order to tell the story of a struggling romance. I also find I am somewhat less interested in my kink in general these days. It doesn't turn me on the way it used to. I guess I'm a bit bored with it. I think I need to find some fresh angle, or just to give myself some time. But that doesn't mean I don't have mixed feelings. I'm particularly sad that I might be letting down my fans. The appreciation I've gotten here has spurred me on to finish the tale. "I can't quit now," I kept telling myself. "I don't want to disappoint people." So for all my readers, a heartfelt thank-you. For that reason, and for others, I don't want to abandon this part of me. But I think I need to step back a while, so I can appreciate it again, and before I burn out on storytelling. So what's next? What you're about to read is "The Pile-Up." In a few days I'll post the next story, "The Play-Out," here in the same thread. They really belong together. After that, there will be two more stories, which I will post separately. At some point I will write a few bonus stories and compile Season 3 together, as I did with 1 and 2. And that will be the end of Meagan and Parker... but of course they will always be there for you in the stories I've already told. Again, thank you for reading. ---------------------------------------------- It was a quiet evening in Franklin House—the Thursday before Spring Break, not long after Meagan’s grad-school celebration. Parker was nearly alone in the house; Lucy and Trav were off somewhere, Zephyr had asked for a girl’s night with Meagan and Dacy at a party on the other side of campus, Cara was at work, Zach was at the gym, and Val and Miranda had gone to a concert. Mitchell was in his room working on something, and Parker was at loose ends. It was raining—and pretty hard, too. Meagan had taken the girls in her car, so leaving the house wasn’t appealing. Trav sometimes let people play on the Xbox when he and Lucy were gone, but he hadn’t said anything about it this time and Parker didn’t feel like barging in without permission. Since Spring Break was right around the corner, he felt no burning need to get any schoolwork done. He was thinking about turning on the TV to see if there was anything good on—which was a sure sign that he was running out of ideas for entertainment—but then a good track came up on shuffle on his iTunes and he decided he’d just play the rest of the album, which he hadn’t heard in a while. He lay down on the bed and listened. A door slammed downstairs. From the muffled swearing, it sounded like Zach had come home from the gym, and was probably totally soaked—and cold, too. A few minutes later, water began running somewhere. Probably he’d jumped in the shower. Perhaps this prompted Mitchell to get up and take his shower. At any rate, he strode down the hall, clad in only a towel with his toiletries bag in one hand, and stepped into the nearer bathroom. Not long later, he began singing. At least he had a decent voice. Gravel crunched in the driveway beside the house. It sounded like Cara’s car—but when the door opened, the first voice he heard was Miranda’s. Then more gravel crunched: definitely Meagan’s car this time. “Everyone’s home at once,” Parker said, poking his head out. “Seems like,” Miranda said, pushing past him quickly. “Excuse me…” She quickly went into the farther bathroom and closed the door. Val followed her roommate up the steps. “Hey, Parker,” she said. When confronted by both bathroom doors closed, she turned around and started heading back down—only to meet Cara coming up, still in her work clothes. “Can I use one of you guys’ bathrooms?” she said. “The one downstairs is locked.” “Miranda’s in one—and going by the singing, Mitchell’s in the other,” Val said. “Well, I hope they won’t take too long,” Cara said. “Me too!” Val said, retreating up the steps. “I was just about to go downstairs to yours…” The door at the bottom of the stairs opened again, and Dacy came clattering in. She ditched her high heels as soon as she could, and trotted up the steps, chanting, “Bathroom bathroom bathroom…” “Get in line!” Cara said, “There’s a line?” Meagan said, coming up after Dacy. “We got people in two showers,” Cara informed her. “Fuuuuck,” Meagan said. “How does this keep happening, guys?” “You need it too?” “We all do,” Meagan said, gesturing first to Dacy, then back to Zephyr, coming up behind her. “I really do,” Dacy said. She was marching in place, picking her feet up off the ground in mincing, careful steps, bare toes on the carpet. Her nails were painted red to match her dress. “Val, can I go ahead of you?” “Umm…” “I just drank a lot of rum and cokes and I really really really need to go,” Dacy said. “Hey, I just worked a five-hour shift with no breaks!” Cara said. “And I had some coffee to get through it. I’ve had to go for two hours!” She, too, was showing some signs of desperation: legs pressed close together. But frankly, Dacy looked much more desperate. Parker was, after all, a connoisseur of such things. “Dacy, can I get past you?” Meagan said. “I’m not cutting in line, I just wanna say hi to my lover.” “Oh, sorry, sure…” Meagan stepped up to where Parker was standing in the doorway. She kissed him hello, gave him a hug, and whispered in his ear, “Hey.” “Hey.” “Just enjoy it.” “Huh?” “Just enjoy it. I mean, what else can we do?” “You’re sure?” “Happy birthday.” He gave her a skeptical look. She shrugged. He tried to take it all in… Val, in front, was quiet. She was always quiet, but she wasn’t saying anything at all now. She didn’t seem to be showing any particular signs of desperation… other than a certain look in her eyes. Parker remembered how, long ago when she’d had to pee in a bottle in the back seat of Meagan’s car, she’d gone practically nonverbal first. There was a tension in all her body that spoke volumes, however. Cara, right behind her, was expressing herself more verbally than physically. “Two hours,” she repeated, as Dacy again begged to go ahead of her. “Two hours! And someone was in the staff bathroom when I got off! I was worried I wasn’t going to make it home!” Worried or not, she still didn’t seem too desperate by comparison. But her close-pressed legs had escalated to crossed legs. Dacy, on the other hand, was showing all sorts of physical signs. She looked and sounded a little drunk and a lot desperate. She was doing a somewhat wobbly pee dance, wriggling around a little bent over. As she turned this way and that, Parker had an excellent look at her cleavage—for as usual she had gone partying in a short dress. Underneath that dress, her thighs were clenched together, or crossed, or marching in place. “Fuck,” she said. “We drank a lot at the party, but we couldn’t go at the party. The line was too long!” She marched in place again, those magnificent breasts bouncing (her bra was clearly inadequate). But most telling of all was the look on her face: she was grimacing, eyes wide in panic. “It’s true,” Meagan chimed in. She was not showing the strain that Dacy was, but to Parker’s expert eyes she obviously needed to go: she was locked down tight. “I had the least of all of us, since I had to drive, and I had two beers. They were a while back,” she added quickly. “We were there a long while. Longer than I expected…” “Sorry!” Zephyr said. “I wanted to hear the band…” She, too, was all dressed up, but in a tight shirt and a miniskirt. She was also wriggling. Quite a lot, actually. “Shit,” she whispered, apparently to nobody, a look of fear in her eyes. “I had four…” Miranda stepped out of the bathroom. “Me first, me first!” Dacy begged. “We all gotta go, girl,” Cara said. “I am literally about to wet myself, Cara! Can’t you go downstairs?” “There’s someone in there!” “I think that’s Zach, actually,” Parker said. “Really?” Cara said. “Well, he damn well better let me in, or he’s sleeping on the floor tonight…” She headed downstairs quickly. “Val, please,” Dacy said. She was now bent over, legs crossed, clenched hand held straight down at her sides or making fitful motions, like she wanted to grab herself but didn’t dare. Meanwhile, her breasts were literally slipping out. “…Okay,” Val said. She didn’t look terribly happy—but Dacy appeared to be on the brink of crying, exploding, or both. “Ohthankgod,” Dacy said, and rushed in. She was hoisting the hem of her dress as she ran, and Parker caught a flash of ass. “I’ll be quick, I promise!” she said over her shoulder. She moved a little too quickly, perhaps—she tried to kick the door closed behind her, and it didn’t quite latch, so what came next was clearly audible. First the clatter of a toilet lid being flung up and banging off the tank, and then the hiss of a truly desperate piss, and then a moan of pure blissful relief. It all came awfully fast, though—so fast that Parker couldn’t envision how she’d had time to get her panties down. Maybe she hadn’t? (Maybe she wasn’t wearing any?) The pee stream hissed on quite a while. Dacy moaned again. Val looked pained; Zephyr didn’t so much moan as whimper. “Who’s in the other bathroom? Mitchell?” Meagan asked. “Yeah,” Parker answered. “Hey, Mitchell! Can you hurry up?” Meagan said, knocking on the closed door. “I’m going as quick as I can! I’m all over shampoo!” Mitchell hollered. The toilet flushed and all three girls still waiting reacted: Val instantly crossed her legs, Meagan tensed up still further, and Zephyr… well, she was already bent over, one hand clinging to the railing of the stairs. The other hand reached under her miniskirt and just grabbed. She was shuddering. Dacy emerged, blushing a little. Val, moving with far more urgency and hurry than Parker had ever seen other than out on the athletic field, darted into the bathroom behind her, closing the door more carefully. There was a flash of urgency mixed with relief on her face that cut through her usual reserved expression. “Oh my god,” Dacy said, looking down the steps. “Zephyr, that looks painful.” “It is,” Zephyr said in a small voice. “I’m almost…” “Just a bit longer,” Dacy said encouragingly, stepping down past Meagan to Zephyr’s side. Zephyr shook her head. “I’m leaking,” she whispered. “What?” “My panties are wet…” “Oh, hon,” Dacy said, and hugged her roommate—carefully. “That does it,” Meagan said. “I’m taking you in with me.” Zephyr’s eyes widened. “Really?” “Yup.” The toilet flushed again. Zephyr crossed her legs over her hand. Her head was ducked and Parker couldn’t see her face, but the shivering could be the last moments before an uncontrollable explosion—or sobs. “Nearly there,” Dacy said, reassuringly. Val stepped out. “Didn’t even wash my hands,” she said. “Go go go!” Dacy said to Zephyr. “I can’t move...” “Just ten feet to go,” Dacy said, literally helping the bursting girl up the last steps. “You want the toilet or the tub?” Meagan said, already unbuttoning her jeans, as Zephyr tottered toward the bathroom door. “I’ve never peed in a bathtub…” Zeph said in a husky voice. She was definitely about to explode in both piss and teers. Walking double, one hand still clenched between her legs, she inched into the bathroom. “Here, I’ll show you how,” Meagan said, and closed the door behind them. Parker stepped back into his room to avoid listening (and to avoid being caught listening). He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, feeling the churn of images and emotions in his head. So much desperation, all at once. It was a dream come true. So why didn’t he feel like it? He was barely even stiff. He lay back on the bed. The answer’s obvious, really. I’d rather have Meagan forever than five—or ten, or fifty—desperate girls in my hall. They’re sure taking a long time in there. The door opened and Meagan stepped into the room. She had a bemused look on her face. “Better?” Parker asked. “Bladder-wise? Of course. Brain-wise…? Very different story.” “Why, what’s up?” She sat down on the bed next to him. “Zephyr just kissed me.” “For letting her use the bathroom with her?” “Ummm… I guess?” “Man, you never give me a peck on the cheek when I let you go!” “Uh.” “What?” “Not a peck on the cheek.” “…Wait. Lips?” “Oh yeah.” “Zephyr kissed you. On the lips.” “Uh-huh.” “I am so confused right now.” “Right there with you, hon…” Meagan shook her head. “Fuck. I should talk to her.” “Yeah, I think you should!” “But I wanted to check on you. You didn’t really look like you were enjoying all that.” He shrugged. “No consent.” And I wish that was the reason I was bothered… “Aww. You’re so good!” “Well. That wasn’t the only reason.” “Hmm?” He opened his mouth, tried to say, I’m losing you—and closed it again. She stroked his hair. “Hey. You can say it. Whatever it is.” “I’m—worried.” “About?” “Us.” She lay down next to him and kept stroking. “Are you worried about the sex? And how we haven’t been having enough of it lately?” “Uh—yeah. That’s part of it.” “I know you’ve been jacking off,” she said. “Were you fantasizing about other girls?” “…Yeah.” She nodded slowly. “Sorry.” “Hey. I’m not happy about it. I wish you hadn’t. But I get why you did it.” She sighed. “I was afraid grad school would eat our sex life… but after I went, not just from trying to get in.” He said nothing. “Were you fantasizing about Zephyr?” she asked. He managed to whisper, “Yes.” She nodded again. “Are you angry?” “Well, irritated. But we both know it was pretty much impossible to avoid her. Besides, tonight your fantasy came to life—and you actually don’t want it.” “I want you.” She smiled sadly. “And so the battle began. Desperate girls: turn-on! Massive guilt: turn-off!” “About right.” “No wonder you’re freaking out.” “Yeah. But why aren’t you?” “Because I saw your face. If you’d been drooling I’d be so jealous, I’d be screaming at you right now. Or worse, not screaming.” He shuddered in memory. “But you so obviously looked so uncomfortable. Honestly, you seemed almost as bad as we looked. How can I be jealous of Zeph when she ties you in knots like that?” “You’re really not jealous?” She shook her head. “Sad, yes. Worried, yes. A little ticked off and frustrated, yes. Jealous? No.” They lay there for a while. “We should probably talk,” Parker said. “Yeah. You wanna do that now?” “Not really.” “Me neither. It’s late and I’m exhausted and we’ve got all of break to do that.” She laid a gentle hand on his chest. “But do you wanna make love?” “I just wanna hold you.” “I can live with that.” “Forever.” To that, she said nothing. --------------------------------------------------------------- They didn’t talk the next morning, hurrying off to class. And when Parker came home to celebrate the beginning of Spring Break, he saw Meagan and Zephyr sitting out back on the lawn chairs, clearly talking earnestly. He decided he wanted to give that conversation a wide berth. Some time later, Meagan came upstairs, looking even more bemused than the night before. “What’s up?” Parker asked. “So…” Meagan began, and stopped, and then opened her mouth again, and finally managed, “I really don’t know how to start this!” “Yeah, that’s pretty obvious!” “Zephyr’s got the hots for me.” “Huh. Did not see that coming.” “The kiss was a pretty big clue.” “Well, yeah, but before that.” “There have been some other hints, too. But here’s the thing: she also noticed that I was always putting myself at the back of the line for the bathroom. And then the way I was acting at the party… peeing in front of everyone, I guess, and making her piss outside…” ” Parker tensed up. “Yeah. She’s almost on to us. But not quite. She got the wrong idea—she thought it was my kink.” “Oh. Oh! Last night—was that a set-up?” “Yup. Not really totally premeditated, but she was feeling a little daring and desperate and so she decided to have some fun with it. I did notice she was stalling, keeping us at the party a long time… but it ended up waaaay worse than she thought it would be, since everyone else needed to go at the same moment. Anyway. We peed next to each other, in the bathtub, and she kissed me. Tried to seduce me through pee, I guess. She didn’t realize she had the wrong partner of the two.” “You didn’t tell her…?!” “Of course not. That’s your secret, not mine. But I did admit there’s a bit of a sexual rush when I hold it so long and then let it out. And she agreed.” “Whoa.” “Oh, we’re just getting started here. So apparently she hasn’t gotten laid in many months. She had a sexy Spring Break lined up to deal with that, but her plans fell through. So she knew she was gonna be stuck here, and she thinks I’m hot, and… well, she made a play.” Parker’s heartbeat was skyrocketing. “And what did you say to that?” “That I’m loyal to you, of course.” “That’s good to hear.” “Mmmhmm. I know we’re not doing great, hon, but I’m not about to jump in the sack with someone new because of a rough patch.” “Thank you. So… I guess this week could be a little awkward.” “Wellll…” “Well what?” “When I told her that I was sticking with you, she offered me a threesome.” This can’t be happening. “With pee.” This definitely can’t be happening. And he said so. Meagan shrugged. “I guess it is, though.” “What did you tell her?” “That I needed to talk with you.” “Not a ‘no’? Really?” “So… I know things haven’t been great between us lately…and I thought maybe that… this could help?” “You’d seriously be okay with a threesome?” “I’m in college! Lesbian experimentation is totally legit…” “But you’d be okay with sharing me?” “The way she framed it, you’d be sharing me with her. She says you’re a good friend and all, but she’s definitely much more into me.” “I meant in terms of jealousy. Me getting turned on by her. Her getting desperate for—well, for both of us.” She shrugged. “I guess I’m trying to tackle the jealousy thing head-on. Try to get myself past it.” “I still can’t believe this…” “I know. But anyway. I really wouldn’t mind trying it out. Zeph’s cute and sweet and I know she can get you fired up. You said as much last night. But I can also see the flip side, and why you wouldn’t want to. “So it’s your call, love. What do you say?”
  2. Weasel

    Housemates: Life of the Party

    Part 3 at last. Blame the site maintenance, it cut me off. --------------------------------------------- The music was, at Meagan’s direction, a little less raucous now. They could slow-dance to it, and they did so. But even having her arms around him couldn’t shut off the turmoil in Parker’s brain. Not long later, Zephyr came downstairs too—with a shirt on, this time. The party was winding down a bit; the more distant friends were clearing out, and it was more the closer circle now. But Zephyr seemed to be putting the incident behind her by means of more revelry. She wasn’t drinking anymore, Parker noticed, but she asked to put on a more lively dance and threw herself into it. Meagan, Cara, Randy, and several other girls joined her; Parker stood to the side and held up the wall for a while, watching. He watched all the girls. He watched their bodies. He tried to just watch Meagan, but it was impossible; someone else always caught his attention or crossed his line of vision. He tried to just watch eyes and faces, but the sway of breasts and hips was simply too distracting. And he clenched his fist so tight, he drove his nails into his palm. Meagan had apparently decided to un-cut herself off; she took another beer from the keg and drank it fairly quickly, over just a quarter-hour or so. Parker had lost his second well-nursed cup some time ago and decided to just have half of another one. But then Zach handed him a full cup and he drank a little more. So before long he was a little buzzed and a little bleary, and passed a few minutes in a fog. The house was less crowded now, but somehow that just made people cluster even tighter together. Some folks were still grooving to the music, but most of the Franklin folks had gathered in the kitchen. Meagan was sitting on the countertop, her eyes bright and cheerful; Zephyr was standing beside her, laughing; most of the rest of the crew was in there, too. Cara was trying to make French fries from the bag she had in the freezer, but had apparently decided she wanted them to be garlic fries, and this (plus alcohol) was making the process rather more elaborate. Meagan held out a hand to Parker as he stepped into the kitchen, flailing at the wrist a little, and he stepped over to her side. Since she was now a bit higher up than him, she could caress his head and neck with ease, and did so. Not long after he stepped into the kitchen, she said, “Fuck, gotta pee again!” She raised her clenched fists in mock fury. “Beeeeeer!” And when she laid her hand back on his neck, she pinched him quickly to show him what she was up to. She waited a while, but apparently the beer and the water were too much, or breaking the seal had cut down on her natural resistance, and it was only a few minutes later that her hand clenched tightly on his shoulder. And a few minutes later still, she swore again and said, “I really can’t hold it.” “Bathroom’s right around the corner,” Clark pointed out helpfully. Meagan considered, then said: “Naaah, that’s too far away.” She bumped Parker with her hip. “Can you move over a bit, lover?” When he stepped a little away, she simply scooted herself along the countertop until she came to the sink, and unzipped her jeans. “You’re really gonna piss in the sink?” Cara yelped. “It’s my party and I’ll piss where I want to!” “That’s so unsal—uns—unsanitary!” “Oh, like you’ve never done it,” Meagan shot back, wriggling her underwear down just enough. “No, I haven’t!” “I have!” Dacy said, raising the hand that she didn’t have clinched tight against Clark. “Me too,” Miranda said. “What?” she said, as people turned toward her. “Big family, small house. Sometimes you just gotta go.” “Exactly!” Meagan said, as she began peeing. “Mmmmmm, peeing feels nice.” “On that note,” Zach said, and negotiated his way out of the crowded kitchen. “Does it feel nicer because you’re using the sink?” Zephyr asked, her eyes alight and grinning. “Kinda!” Meagan asked. “There’s a kick in it, yeah. (Hand me a paper towel, love?) Breakin’ the rules. I’m a rebel.” “An unsanitary rebel!” “Best kind!” “I’ll support you, Meagan! Atta girl!” Zephyr said, clapping. “Fight the power!” “Aww, what the hell,” Dacy said. “Scoot over.” As Meagan obligingly moved out of the way, Dacy jumped up on the rim of the sink next to her, pulled the hem of her dress out of the way, and let go as well. “No underwear, Dacy?” Zephyr said. “A lady never tells,” Dacy said demurely—as demurely as anyone could while pissing in the sink and nearly falling out of her low-cut dress as she leaned forward for balance. “Now, you see, I feel like I’d be criticized for doing this,” Clark said. “Nah, it’s just that you guys can piss anywhere you damn well please already,” Meagan replied, jumping down off the countertop so she could wriggle her jeans the rest of the way back up. “But pissing in a sink seems trashy for men. There’s an odor of ‘alcoholic hobo’ to it, somehow. Whereas in the case we’ve just witnessed, it’s seen as daring and racy. A bit of a double standard, really. Perhaps with a patriarchal bargain thrown in, as the participants are young and attractive…” “You’ve either had too much to drink or not enough,” Dacy said, and jumped down to kiss him. Cara managed to get the French fries out just as most of the remaining dancers straggled home, forcing the Franklin House folks to eat them themselves. But after just a few, Meagan shook her head. “These are delicious, Cara, but I’m so full of beer,” she said. “Even PBR can get to you after a while…” “No offense taken!” “Time to go up, hon?” Meagan asked. “Yeah, sounds good.” “Thank you all so much for the party,” Meagan said, clasping her hands together earnestly. “Especially you, Dacy. I love you. I love you all. This was amazing. Drink lots of water and I’ll see you in the morning.” They went upstairs. As the door of their room closed, Meagan turned around and kissed him passionately. “I love you most of all,” she said. “Want me to show you how much?” “Sure.” She stripped them both naked and broke out the lube. But he seemed to be having a hard time with getting hard, so to speak. She lay down next to him and worked on him for a bit, and started talking to him as she did. “I drank a lot for you tonight,” she said, “and held it for you, too. As long as I could. Remember me not even being able to make it upstairs? Having to piss out back?” She retold several of the incidents in the evening—working around Zephyr and Dacy, he noticed. But at best he was barely more than flaccid; his cock flopped around in her hands, heavy with blood but not hard. She moved her storytelling back in time a bit, returning to their first time together, to the treehouse, to the planter box the summer before. “Sorry,” he muttered. “It’s okay. Beer can do that. I’m not worried.” “I need to pee, too. That’s in the way a bit.” “I need to go, too. Get rid of the last little bit. Want to go together? Would that help?” He thought it over, and then said, “Nah. Go ahead.” “’Kay.” After they’d both peed separately, and brushed their teeth, she lay down beside him and cuddled up. “How are you feeling, lover?” she asked. “A little weird.” “It’s okay. It happens to every guy sometimes. It happened to you our first time together, remember? And beer does that. Don’t worry.” It’s not that, he thought. He opened his mouth to say it, too—and shut it again. ------------------------------------------------- The next morning he woke up with his cock in her mouth. She let go once she saw he was awake. “Oh good,” she said. “I really need to pee, and I wanted to wait for you.” “It’s okay,” he said. “You can go.” “You’re sure?” she said. “Totally sure? I mean, I really gotta go, still some water left over from last night in me, I think—but I can hold it until you come.” “No. Go ahead.” “Well—mmkay. It’ll be a relief, at least. It’s been a long twenty minutes waiting for you to wake up…” She pulled her t-shirt back on (she was still wearing her sweatpants) and dashed off. She came back and straddled him. “Where were we? Mmmmm, should I tell you how nice it felt to piss just now…?” After a few minutes it seemed he was still going to remain quite soft. “I guess I’m not really in the mood,” Parker said. “God, that’s such a cliché, but…” “No pressure,” she said, and went off to work out. That night, however, she tried again. “You really want me, don’t you?” Parker said. “Like always,” she said. “But yeah, especially now. I know it hasn’t been that good lately. That’s why I was glad when I figured out you were jacking off again. Glad at first. But now that I know I’ve got next year lined up, I really did want to make love to you.” She wriggled a little. “And yeah, I’m pretty worked up. Now that the worry’s gone, I think my body wants to make up for lost time.” “I’ll go down on you if you want.” “I’d like that, yeah, but I also want you in me. It’s nice to come, but—how can I say it? There’s something connected about making love. About having you in me. Seeing you as I’m riding you.” “Yeah.” “That’s why I’ve been trying to turn you on with all this pissing and holding…” Something clicked. “‘Trying’ is the right word, isn’t it? But it doesn’t seem to be working. I dunno why. It’s like my number-one turn-on, why is it turning me off now? It doesn’t make sense.” “It’s sex, lover. It doesn’t ever make sense.” She paused. “I mean, yeah. Your kink and mine, they both make sense, considering. They’re all about control. Totally sexy. But there’s a lot of other stuff out there that doesn’t make sense at all. My eyes have seen things that I cannot unsee, and they are well and truly weird.” “True. And sometimes… sometimes my kink is actually useful.” “Hmmm?” “The reason I realized that Zephyr was all tensed up when Gavin was coming onto her. It’s because I’m so used to watching you to see if you’re all tensed up.” She smiled. “Well, thank god for your kink, then. But if you’d rather play it straight tonight…? Not bring holding in at all…?” “Yeah. I think so.” She pulled off her t-shirt, pulling her hair loose from it as she cast it aside. Since she was ready for bed, she was topless underneath. Something about that gesture, simple yet sexy, made him relax a little. She bent over him and placed his limp penis in between her breasts, gently rubbing him. Little by little, he began to stir. She grabbed some lube and kept going. I wouldn’t be able to do this with Zephyr, he thought. Running around topless or not, hard nipples or not, she can’t do this. Hers aren’t big enough. His body and mind eased their way into it. When he was hard enough, she moved to guide him into her, but he had her wait until they’d done a few minutes with the vibe. She got slick very fast (“Like I said, pretty worked up”). And soon she was looking down on him as she rode him, just as she’d said—occasionally bending down to kiss him and have her breasts brush his chest—and this time, it worked out just fine. ------------------------------------------- End of Part 3 For all of you who read all the way to the end of this: stay tuned for an announcement re: the Meagan & Parker stories.
  3. Weasel

    Housemates: Life of the Party

    Part 2 of 3 --------------------------------------------- “Go on, then, you know where the bathroom is,” Meagan said. Zephyr got up and tried to walk over, and discovered she was far too unsteady to walk unassisted. Leaning on the beer-pong table (to the consternation of the current players) she held out both hands to Meagan. “Help me!” “Might as well, I gotta go too,” Meagan said. But she was a little wobbly as well, so she turned to Parker. “C’mon lover, help us out.” So Parker found himself with both Meagan and Zephyr leaning on him as he attempted to steer them toward the bathroom. The nearest one was the big one with the keg in it, of course, and Zephyr flatly refused to pee there. She was squirming all over the place while clinging to Parker’s arm, which resulted in a whole lot of boob contact, but she refused to pee there. An attempt at backtracking so they could go upstairs brought them face to face with the dancing crowd in the front room, which looked impenetrable for the three of them together, and so Meagan said, “Nope! Let’s go out the back.” As they retraced their steps Zephyr was whimpering and clutching herself with her free hand. Meagan didn’t seem to be locking down so much, but that didn’t mean she didn’t need to go; she seemed pretty antsy too. It could have been sexy as hell. It should have been sexy as hell. Out in the back yard the cold air hit them. It was still early March, after all, and while the days were growing longer and warmer, the nights still had a lot of winter’s bite to them. The cold reached right into all three of their bladders and squeezed. Parker hadn’t even realized he’d needed to pee until he had to clench up. How it felt for the girls he couldn’t imagine, but Zephyr bent double and squealed. More astonishing, Meagan tried to lock down—he could feel her struggling to do so, since she had her arm around his shoulders—but apparently failed. She had to quickly cross her legs. To make matters even worse, two guys were peeing freely on the grass. “Fuck goin’ upstairs,” Meagan said, with more than her usual drawl. “I’m pissin’ righ’ here.” And, suiting the action to the word, she popped a squat. Or she tried to, at least. But she had to lean against the wall to keep from slowly toppling over while she unzipped her pants, and then getting them down around her knees was a longer process than usual, and once that was managed she didn’t even really squat so much as sink down the wall to a more-or-less sitting position and let fly, not even looking to see if her clothes were out of the way. Fortunately, they were (mostly). Zephyr, on the other hand, was making no move to follow Meagan’s example. She looked miserably desperate, with tears in her eyes, but instead of squatting she was doing the most frantic pee dance Parker had ever seen on a girl. The squirming was simply incredible. She got her whole body into it, legs dancing, feet stamping, fists clenched tight on wildly swinging arms. With her hair tied back in a ponytail, that was swinging too. Parker’s mind flashed back to one of the “waiting in line” pictures he’d seen on Shara and Ger’s website, helpfully captioned by the photographer, ending in the line, “She cannot stand still—yum!” Since she was topless, he also couldn’t help but notice that her nipples were rock-hard. “Zeph, jus’ pee here!” Meagan said. “No one’ll mind.” I don’t know about that, Parker thought. “I can’t! I can’t! We gotta go upstairs, I’m gonna pee in my pants!” Meagan’s piss was the usual big blast, so she was tailing off quickly. Rather than getting up, however, Meagan simply grabbed one of Zephyr’s swinging fists. (Parker noted with a rush of respect and appreciation that his girlfriend had not lost all her coordination; it was basically a classic Ultimate one-handed grab.) She pulled Zephyr over to her side and dragged the desperate girl down next to her. “You’re peein’ here!” she ordered. “In your pants or on the ground, I don’t care, but jus’ do it! Parker, turn aroun’.” He did so quickly, relieved—and disappointed. He heard unzipping jeans and then a hiss of a new stream. Zephyr’s piss sounded noticeably different from Meagan’s—it was higher-pitched and seemed to produce more splatter. It also took a lot longer. “Whew, you’re still going?” Meagan said, apparently re-zipping her own jeans. “You’ve got a lot in you! I’ll bet you didn’t break the seal before now, didja?” “Nope.” “Feels good, right?” Meagan said. “So good,” Zephyr said, her voice a little throaty with pleasure. Her stream finally slowed to a trickle (but didn’t altogether stop). “It’s like comin’, sometimes,” Meagan said, “after you’ve held it so long.” Zephyr giggled. “I never noticed that!” I have. So many times. Finally Zeph’s trickle came to complete stop, and there was the sound of rustling clothes. “Um. A lil’ help, lover?” Meagan asked. Parker turned around—and realized that the two of them were having a hard time getting Zephyr’s pants up while also keeping themselves upright. Her underwear was mostly up—but not quite, revealing a shock of dark pubic hair just over the waistband of her slightly askew panties. Her jeans were caught somehow. And of course she was still topless. Zephyr quickly covered her crotch with one hand. “Um, what do you want me to do?” Parker said. “Oh, I see,” Meagan said. “All right, I’ll do it, you jus’ hold me up, hon.” This he could do, and do so by staring down at her wonderful neck and shoulders without looking at Zephyr’s nakedness. He got the two of them back inside somehow, back inside and seated on sturdy, non-wobbly chairs by the beer pong table. Then he went back outside and had his own quick piss. It wasn’t hard, since he wasn’t hard. He stopped by the keg on his way back in, since he’d only had one beer so far, carefully nursed. He had no real desire to catch up with the girls, especially as they seemed to need him mostly sober at this point. But he’d noticed that Trav had a game going in his room, so instead of going back to Meagan and Zephyr, he watched the guys play Xbox for a while, still just sipping. After twenty minutes or so he thought he’d better check on the girls again. He didn’t particularly want to, but his responsibility overpowered his reluctance. When he got back out, Meagan was gone, and Gavin had taken her seat. He had an arm around her shoulder and was whispering in her ear. Parker stopped a few feet away, trying to process what was niggling him at the back of his brain. Well, for one thing, you’d rather be sitting there, clearly staring at her tits… For another thing, she doesn’t look all that comfortable. As he watched, Gavin reached over with his free hand. It looked like he was trying to go for a gentle, sexy caress. It ended up being a drunken pawing. Zephyr didn’t pull away—but she instantly stiffened. Parker glanced around. It was mostly guys in the room by now; the girls seemed to have moved over to dancing. And nobody seemed to be batting an eye. Okey-doke, my path is clear. “Hey.” They both looked up at him: Gavin, half-confused and half-annoyed, and Zephyr, clearly relieved. Parker couldn’t come up with a good follow-on, so instead he simply stared at Gavin. “Is there a problem?” Gavin said. It came out slightly more belligerent than he might have meant it, more You got a problem with me, buddy? “Zephyr, you okay?” Parker asked, finally getting something sensible out of his mouth. Zephyr hesitated. It looked like she was feeling very much not okay, but was reluctant to say so. “I got your water, hon,” Meagan said from over Parker’s shoulder. “Oh, thank you!” Zephyr said. As if her friend’s words somehow released her from a spell, she jumped up out of her chair and took the cup Meagan held in both hands. “Wanna go upstairs for a bit?” Meagan asked. “Sure.” “Parker, can you make sure Gavin can find his way out?” Meagan said. Well, great. I get to handle the drunken asshole. But Meagan had reminded him of a good tactic: sheer distraction. “Dang, it’s hot in here. Wanna go outside for a minute, man?” Gavin nodded, looking more confused now than anything else. Parker led him down the back hall and they stood outside for a bit, cooling off. “Dude,” Gavin said. “What?” “You totally cock-blocked me.” “Man, she obviously didn’t want to be with you,” Parker said. “You don’t know that.” “It was all in her body language, man. You didn’t notice her tensing up?” Gavin looked more perplexed than ever. “No?” Parker realized in a sudden flash that a few years before, he might not have noticed Zephyr’s discomfort, either. The way she tensed up was very similar to the way Meagan locked down when she was getting desperate, and he was now well-trained in spotting that. Heck, I might not have been paying attention at all when he put his hand on her, except I’ve been watching Zephyr for a while now, trying to see if she’s uncomfortable—just for a different reason. “Trust me, man, I know her, I’ve lived with her a while now,” Parker said. “She wasn’t coming on to you, and she wasn’t cool with you coming on to her.” “But she took her shirt off…” “Yeah, well, one: that’s normal for her. Two: it might not have been for you.” “You mean Luis?” Gavin said. Or me. “Yeah, sure, maybe. I dunno. Maybe she was just too hot. All I know is, she didn’t look happy when you had your arm around her.” “Aw, shit, I didn’t know… I didn’t mean…” “Hey, you crossed a line, but just be glad you didn’t go any further than that, huh?” “Yeah, I guess…” “You’re welcome. You play Xbox? We’ve got one set up.” “Nah, man… I think I’ll just go home…” “Take care.” Parker watched until Gavin had made it across the street (a bit of a tricky task, but less so on a Saturday night), then went in the side door and up the stairs, looking for his ladies. He found them in bed. Meagan was sitting on their bed, leaning against the headboard, and Zephyr was lying across the bed with her head in Meagan’s lap. Meagan was gently stroking her friend’s hair. “Hey, everyone okay up here?” Parker asked. “We’re good, love, thank you. Is Gavin gone?” “Yeah, I made sure he’s across the street.” “Thank you so much. Can you give us a minute? I’ll be back down in a while.” “Sure.” Parker went back downstairs to Trav’s room and watched the gaming for a while longer, leaning on the doorframe. But his mind wasn’t really focused on Trav and Clark’s playing. Instead he was thinking about how close he’d come to missing the whole thing—and how every other guy in the room seemed to have missed it, too. Heck, Gavin himself read the situation wrong. If I weren’t so tuned in to Zeph’s body these days… Naw, let’s be honest here. If I didn’t want to do what he was doing—only maybe with her as desperate as she was earlier… Shit, what am I doing? I’m almost as bad as him. But at least I saw what was going on. Nobody else did. None of those guys cared. Or they thought he was gettin’ it on and decided to let him. How much have I missed, since I just never had a reason to look? He was still simmering over that when Meagan slipped an arm around his waist. “Hey, love. You okay?” “Just thinking.” “You look like you’re overthinking.” “Maybe.” “You did a good thing.” For all the wrong reasons. “Wanna dance?” she asked. “…Yeah.” ----------------------------------------------- To be concluded...
  4. Hey, folks. A little longer and a little omo-ier this time. Enjoy it while it lasts... But first, the usual links to the previous stories. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- February faded into March at last, and with March came mail for Meagan. First was a thin envelope from Stanford, expressing regrets—and second was a thicker one from the University of Illinois, expressing congratulations. Parker felt the worry-cloud lift, just a little. Then, in the same week, two more big envelopes arrived, one postmarked Los Angeles and the other postmarked Ann Arbor. Others followed, generally pretty big. “I got in,” Meagan said for the fourth time, surrounded by her congratulator mail. “I got in to Michigan and Washington and UCLA…!” Parker hugged her again. “I am so proud of you,” he said—and it was true. But UCLA and the University of Washington were making him uneasy. “We need to celebrate, beautiful,” said Dacy. “We need to celebrate in a serious way.” “Fuckin’ aye we do,” Meagan said. “I have worked so fuckin’ hard for this. I have earned my alcohol!” “And then some, I’d say,” Parker murmured. “I’m not going to ask where you’re going yet because I know you have no idea,” Dacy said, “and I think we should make a ‘Don’t ask’ rule for the party. A party foul for sure.” “Oh, I love the way you think,” Meagan said. “Should we have a theme?” “Hmmm… generalized triumph?” “A ‘we are the champions’ party? We can do that. When?” “Is this weekend too soon?” “Well, here’s the question, do you want this to be a classic Franklin House blowout? Or do you want it to be just you and your closest friends?” “Why can’t it be a blowout for my friends?” “Blowouts require at least a hundred people,” Parker put in. “It’s state law.” Meagan grinned. “And who’s to say I don’t have a hundred friends?” “Well, even if you don’t, you’re still in the ‘shindig’ bracket.” “Well, that’s mighty fine. Dacy, I want to invite everyone I know.” “Okay, that might take some organizing. Can we put it off until next weekend? Just four days is a little too tight. Not a lot of time to line up kegs and get the decorations. We’ll put it up on Facebook, that’ll save time on the invites… oooh, question. Toga party? That would simplify.” “Ummm—no.” “Laurel wreaths fit with victory and are commonly associated with toga parties.” “Still no.” “Okay! I’ll need to branch out a little…” “I have great faith in you.” -------------------------------------------------------------------- In the end, Dacy outdid herself. The first thing she did was get the Facebook event organized; the second thing she did was hit both eBay and every thrift store she could find for old trophies, medals, and paraphernalia and apparel from championship teams (of any level). She lined up a keg of PBR (“It won a blue ribbon, after all!”). She draped Franklin’s main room with posters of Olympians, Super Bowl winners, and “Congratulations!” signs. Guests were instructed to come in appropriate garb. To get themselves ready, the Franklin House crew (or at least those who were drinkers) each knocked back a shot of gin. Then Dacy produced Meagan’s costume for the evening: yes, a crown of laurels. (The rest of what Meagan was wearing: a faded “2002 National Champions Ohio State” t-shirt, and her usual jeans.) She immediately put the crown on, said “I’ll drink to that!” and took another shot. Then she added, “Whew, that’s enough of the hard stuff for me, I think…” She did indeed switch to beer thereafter, alternating with swigs from her veteran water bottle. As more people flowed in, the party started ramping up. There was music and dancing and beer pong. After a time there was an outcry for Meagan to take her turn at the latter, and so she and Dacy teamed up against Trav and Clark, who had won the previous match. Since Dacy and Clark were dating, sparks flew, words were exchanged, and the battle was well and truly on. After Clark sank a couple of early shots, Dacy began distracting him with cleavage. She was wearing a dress that was, for once, long enough—but also fairly low-cut. She must have been wearing a truly rugged bra, because despite all the bouncing and dancing she never actually popped out. But said bra was doing a marvelous job of highlighting her already-impressive cleavage, and Parker didn’t know how on Earth Clark could concentrate. Parker certainly couldn’t, especially after Dacy roped Meagan into her “seductive distracting” attempts too. In perhaps her most impressive feat of the game, Dacy managed to catch an overshot ball with her boobs, which won considerable applause and a whoop from Zephyr, but even such heroics couldn’t win the game and soon the girls had drained all their little red cups. Meagan came over to where Parker was leaning against the wall, took a drink from her actual beer cup (helpfully labeled “FOR GRAD STUDENTS ONLY” in black Sharpie), took a different drink from her water bottle, kissed Parker thoroughly, and then cuddled up to him. “Hey,” he said. “Hey.” “I was rooting for you.” “Darn straight you were.” “You fought the good fight.” “All my throwing skills have been thrown off by playing Ultimate so long. I can only throw things that are flat now! I have no idea at all about arc…” “Heh. Nice one.” “What?” “ ‘Thrown off.’ ” “…Yeeeessss. I totally meant that. Well done spotting it,” she said, with a shifty look. “I love you,” he said, and kissed her hair just below her crown. “Love you too. Want proof?” “Hmmm?” She leaned in to whisper, “Gotta pee.” “After all that beer, I’m not surprised in the slightest.” “If I pee now, though, I’ll break the seal.” “Such a conundrum.” “I guess I’ll just have to hold it.” “That’s too bad.” “Isn’t it just? C’mon, let’s dance.” “One way or another,” he murmured in her ear. She laughed, caught him in her arms, and swung him into the dancing. The music was victory-themed too, but only to a point; one could only play “We Are the Champions,” “Eye of the Tiger,” and “Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now” so often. Chumbawamba’s biggest hit featured prominently, but it gave way to Franz Ferdinand’s “Take Me Out,” and “All Star” faded into “Hey Ya!”—which is not exactly a victorious song once one listens to the lyrics. But Meagan was reveling in every moment, her hair fanning out around her as she moved. She managed to hold it a surprisingly long time, perhaps because her dancing served more than one purpose. But she couldn’t keep dancing forever, and finally she pulled Parker out of the crowd. She leaned back against the nearest wall, steadying herself with one hand, and pulled him toward her by the shirt with the other. She kissed him long and hard, then said, “So, wanna reenact our first meeting?” “In the bathroom?” “Exactly. Only this time I get to pee there. C’mon.” She led him by the hand to the big downstairs bathroom, which as usual had the keg set up with ice in the shower. Mitchell was manning the keg at this point. “Gotta pee!” Meagan announced as they entered. “Here?” Mitchell said. “It’s my party and I’ll piss where I want to,” Meagan answered. “Heh, I like that…” “I’ll clear out, then,” Mitchell said. “Oh, no need,” Meagan said, undoing her belt. “Uh—you’re sure?” “I have nothing to hide!” she proclaimed grandly with a sweep of her arm. And then, to Parker’s startlement, she dropped her pants and panties and seated herself on the toilet. “Here, lover,” she said. She grabbed his hand and held it to her chest, which did serve to keep him between her and those seeking beer, but mostly it served for him to feel, more than hear, her sigh of relief and the relaxation of tension. She calmly wiped, stood, re-clothed herself, and flushed. Then she kissed him. “I love you,” she said. “I’m so lucky I met you here. Right here in this room.” “I’m so lucky that wasn’t the last time I ever saw you.” “Yeah, that too.” “Let’s hear it for hedgehogs.” “Yay hedgehogs!” She led him by the hand into and down the hallway toward Trav and Lucy’s room. She leaned against the wall again, pulled him close, and made out with him for a while. She might have kept them there longer, but then they heard Zephyr saying, “Eww, get a room!” “Got one already!” Meagan shot back. “Well, use it!” “That’s all the way upstairs! It’s my party, I’ll kiss where I want to.” “I’m sensing a theme,” Parker murmured. “It’s a good theme. I like it.” “Well, okay," Zephyr said, "but when you’re done I want you as my partner for more beer pong.” “Oh, shit, I didn’t realize it was an emergency! I’ll drop everything… which I guess means Parker…” “Hey!” Zephyr laughed. “We’ve got next game, that’s all.” Their opponents were a rather sloshed couple of guys, Gavin and Luis, friends of Meagan’s from the Psych department. Meagan continued to be unable to throw a ball on an arc (at one point she tried to use her Ultimate skills, and rather than sinking the ball she caroomed it off of Cara’s head as she passed by), so Zephyr had to do most of the actual scoring—and she wasn’t much good either. But since the other two guys were not the best at fine motor skills at the moment, the game moved a little slowly. Then Zephyr took a page from Dacy’s defensive-distraction playbook and upped the ante: just as Gavin was about take a shot, Zephyr flashed him. This did indeed make his shot go rather wild, so after Meagan took her turn (and missed again), Zephyr repeated the tactic with Luis. Then she sank a ball and, screaming with triumph, pulled a Brandi Chastain and stripped off her shirt. But unlike Chastain, Zephyr wasn’t wearing a bra. Nor did she put her shirt back on, instead posing in profile to ruin Gavin’s throw. When Meagan realized what was going on, she yelped and clapped her hands over Zephyr’s breasts. But Zephyr simply laughed and said, “Oooh, even better.” She grabbed Meagan’s hands in hers, holding them caught, and took a step back against Meagan, thrusting her butt back against Meagan’s crotch and grinding a bit. Gavin’s next throw missed the table entirely. Meagan pulled her hands away, but Zephyr refused to put her shirt back on—and kept encouraging Meagan to take off her own. Meagan didn’t, to Parker’s relief—nor did Zephyr repeat her bump-and-grind performance. But Meagan did strike a pose or two, and didn’t object when Zephyr draped an arm over her shoulder or around her waist for the sake of distraction. With Meagan’s lack of skill and Gavin’s mind being elsewhere, it really came down to Zephyr versus Luis, and Zephyr won by one cup. Since the game was really just an excuse to get more beer into them, however, everyone was a winner! Or at least so Zephyr claimed. Having drunk several cups of beer, Meagan announced she was cutting herself off—at least for a while. She had a lot of water to catch up on, however, and she kept sipping from her bottle. Zephyr drank a little water too, at Meagan’s urging—and then the beer started hitting them both in earnest, from two directions. Zephyr’s behavior was getting wilder. She hadn’t put her shirt back on. It was pretty warm in the house, with all the people, but still, she was mostly flaunting. Parker just couldn’t figure out who she was flaunting for. Was she hitting on Gavin? Gavin seemed to think so, for he’d stayed pretty close. Or was it for Parker? For Zephyr was staying pretty close to him and Meagan. Zephyr’s jokes got raunchier and her poses more explicit and her movements less coordinated. And then she burst out, “Oh fuck, I gotta piss!” ------------------------------------------ To be continued...
  5. Hello, gentle readers. The latest installment in the ongoing saga of Meagan, Parker -- and apparently Zephyr. (Just now noticing this series? The latest "season" starts with "Road Trip", then proceeds through several more chapters. Earlier seasons available for trade via PM.) So for everyone who thought the Christmas Eve story was cute and all was well with our favorite couple... *evil laughter* Enjoy. ---------------------------------------------------------------- I need your arms around me, I need to feel your touch I need your understanding, I need your love so much You tell me that you love me so, you tell me that you care But when I need you—baby, you’re never there There is nothing more depressing than a bedraggled January, with dirty snow and crusty mud, with sneaky drips and invisible ice, with skies that were neither stormy nor sunny. Nothing more depressing—unless it was a love affair that felt like a bedraggled January. Parker was in the middle of both. In order to graduate, Meagan needed to take a heavy course load. In order to graduate with honors—which she’d pegged as a necessity for future scholarships—she needed to knock every one of those credits out of the park with straight A’s. She was living in the library now, at least when she wasn’t in class and she wasn’t at work. She was never home for dinner, rarely there for breakfast, since she worked late and then got up early to work out. She’d been forced to quit the Ultimate team, too—and Parker had been going less and less often himself. She made a point to see him every day at lunch—except from those days when she had to stay after a class and talk to a professor, which was often enough. She made time for him every Saturday—except when there was a paper due. Most every weekend they had a perfunctory fuck. Or a quick blow job. Or just a handie, for the days when she was really feeling rushed and “not in the mood” but “didn’t want to neglect him.” Things had felt so right over Christmas. But over the break they hadn’t had homework, they hadn’t had classes, they hadn’t had jobs. All of that and more was waiting for them as they’d pulled into the driveway at Franklin House. All of that and more nibbled at the edges of the relationship, wearing them down. Meagan apologized at least three times a week, but couldn’t stop or take a breather. Part of the trouble was that January has little to look forward to. The semester was already highly intense and seemed likely to stay that way. It would be a long, long time until Spring Break. She made a point of kissing him every single day. First you say you’re too busy I wonder if you even miss me There is nothing more depressing than a fading January love affair—unless it was a failing February love affair, complete with a Valentine’s Day entirely forgotten in the shuffle. That was the day Parker went home, lay down on the empty bed, and thought, I’m losing you. That was also the day he fired up his laptop in the lonely room and went searching for what he wanted. He found it at the website named “Female Desperation,” complete with a cartoon woman bent over and grabbing her crotch. He skimmed through the photos, stopping arrested at a few series of shots, such as a few “waiting in line” pictures, but before long he settled on the stories, and after that he was cleaning up the mess with some tissues, feeling weird in his belly. The next day he woke up when Meagan kissed him goodbye. She didn’t notice that he’d woken up, and without a word she slipped out to go to the gym. He crawled out of bed so he’d be gone when she got back. He went to class, and Zephyr was there. He’d been annoyed, the first day of class, to find her beside him in the discussion. Now he was glad to see her. Zephyr-in-class was far less annoying than Zephyr-at-home; she was vastly more serious and thoughtful. There was also the advantage that she was routinely wearing all the clothes he would like, and almost never looked desperate. So in class she was just a friend, not a hassle. Of course, now that she was much more of a friend, that was carrying over back at the house, and so they were hanging out back at Franklin rather more, too. Which Parker was less and less concerned by. Today Zephyr looked up and smiled as he sat down. “G’morning,” she said. “Morning.” “What did you think of the reading for today? I kept meaning to ask you.” “Didn’t finish.” “Here, you can sneak a peek at my notes. But what’s on your mind?” He shrugged. “No, seriously. I’ve lived with you for four months now, I know when you’re off your game.” “It’s Meagan,” he said. “Have you two been fighting?” “I almost wish we had been. Then we could make up. No, no fighting. No nothing, really.” “She’s not around much, huh?” “Yeah.” “And that’s probably gonna keep happening, right? Especially when she’s in grad school?” “Oh yeah.” “That sucks, man. I’m sorry.” Parker didn’t participate in class much that day. Instead he listened to Zephyr hold forth, trying to reconcile her savvy analysis she was dispensing with the girl too stubborn to take a piss break during Halo. This slid into a fantasy he’d been spinning lately, about driving back to Franklin House with Zephyr and Meagan desperate in the car—an attempt to ease his conscience, of course, which wasn’t working quite as well as he wanted it to. Somehow that fantasy always ended with both girls naked. “Oof, next stop the restroom,” Zephyr said, cautiously getting up out of her seat. That sent a little electricity running through Parker’s already half-aroused body. “What’s that?” said the girl sitting on the other side of Zephyr. “Long class, small bladder. Sorry, too much information…” “Oh, I hear you. Just be glad this isn’t one of Dr. Davis’s classes. An hour and a half on Friday afternoons, and he talks so softly and so slowly. One time I had some extra coffee to try and stay awake. Bad decision. I missed half the lecture because I could barely pay attention, and finally I had to run from the room. So embarrassing!” “Hey, girl, until you’ve wet your track shorts on the bus in front of the entire team, you’re doing just fine.” “Ooh, that sounds terrible…” Terrible is one word for it, Parker thought. This was a little too close to his fantasy for comfort. “—But hey, you did track too? What was your event?” Thank god for changes of subject. “Pole vault,” Zephyr said. Shit, spoke too soon. Pole vaulters are so hot… “Oh, wow. I was a sprinter, I never had the guts to do something like that. I was scared of hurdles…” The girls left the room, and Parker scraped himself together. It wasn’t until he was walking back to Franklin for lunch that he realized Zephyr had, unknowingly, answered his conundrum. Why was she so smart in class and why did she get so desperate while gaming? Confidence, in both cases. Pole vaulters had to have supreme self-confidence. And astonishing full-body fitness, too. Fuck. Never there You’re never there You’re never ever ever ever there Meagan is driving, and Zephyr is in the passenger seat, and he’s in back watching both. Both are desperate. Zephyr is incredibly squirmy; Meagan is stone-still. Both are delightful. “Meagan, please stop!” Zephyr wails. “I’m about to wet my panties!” “I can’t stop, we’ve got just enough gas to get home,” Meagan says. “Just another few minutes and we’ll be at the gas station. I’ve gotta go bad too, y’know.” But of course they hit every red light before they made it to the gas station. “Can you get the gas, hon?” Meagan says. “We’ve got to go.” He appreciatively watches them run off, then starts pumping. But scarely has he begun when the girls come running back. “Bathroom’s taken,” Meagan says. “We’ll have to wait and go at the house.” Zephyr is practically writhing now, hand on her crotch, dancing in a circle. Meagan is on full lockdown but has her legs crossed. “Can we just go, hon?” Meagan asks. “We don’t need a full tank, just enough to get us back to the house.” “Well, we’ve got a quarter-tank now.” “Good enough. And can you drive?” They jump in, both girls looking absolutely frantic. Parker guides the car over to the exit, and then has to wait for the light to turn (Zephyr whimpering in the back seat) and then finally makes the turn. Fortunately Franklin House is not far; once the light was green, they are there inside a minute. The girls leap out of the car, fumble with the door, and go dashing upstairs. Parker follows more slowly. To his amazement both are still outside the bathroom, both clearly still desperate. “Someone’s taking a shower in both bathrooms…” Meagan says. “I gotta pee so bad!” Zephyr whines. “Come on, we can wait in our room,” Meagan says. All three of them step in. Zephyr is doing an insanely frantic pee-dance—and pulls off her shirt. Naturally she isn’t wearing a bra. “I’m so hot,” she says. “Me too, hon. I wish I could do what you do and just go topless,” Meagan says. “Just go ahead and do it! We’ve all seen you…” Needing no further prompting, Meagan strips off her own shirt. She, too, is not wearing a bra. “Oh, wow,” Zephyr says. “I gotta pee so bad—but I just have to touch your boobs, Meagan. They’re so lovely. Is that okay?” “You can touch mine if I can touch yours.” So both girls are feeling each other up now. “Aaaah, I’m about to piss myself—but I’m kinda getting turned on!” “Me too. Mmmm. I like it when you touch me there…” “I’m gonna take off my shorts.” “Good idea, I don’t want to piss in mine.” Both Meagan and Zephyr strip naked, hands clutching their pussies. “I’m about to explode!” Zephyr squeals. “Here, let me help,” Meagan says, putting one hand on Zephyr’s crotch and one on her own. She starts to finger herself—and Zephyr too. Parker, watching, pulls out his hard-on and begins jacking off. “Aww, fuck, I’m about to piss,” Meagan moans. “Parker, I need you in me!” “Me too!” Zephyr says. Parker steps over to slip into Meagan’s desperately-tight vagina. “I want you next, Parker,” Zephyr says. “Oh no, I can’t hold it…!” “Whew, what a gusher,” Meagan said as Parker came in her hand. He lay back, panting. She was lying next to him, fully clothed, looking exhausted but triumphant at the success of her hand job. “That worked,” she said. “I don’t know what I did differently that time, but it really worked.” He said nothing. After all, what could he have said? In mute apology to her (without her knowing what he was doing), he reached for her. “Not tonight, hon,” she said—mumbled, really. She was half-asleep already. “M’be tmmrrw…” Take the time to get to know me If you want me, why can’t you just show me? We’re always on this roller coaster If you want me, why can’t you get closer? “I’m so hot,” Zephyr says, pulling off her shirt. “Me too, hon. I wish I could do what you do and just go topless,” Meagan says. “Just go ahead and do it! We’ve all seen you…” Needing no further prompting, Meagan strips off her own shirt. She, too, is not wearing a bra. Just then Dacy comes in. “Hey, what are you all doing?” “We both really really need to pee!” Zephyr said, excitedly. “And it’s making me hot so I took my shirt off. Join us!” “Well—honestly, I am a little jealous of you. But Parker’s right there.” “I’ve seen it all before,” he says suavely, glossing over just when and where and how he’d done so. “Go right ahead.” “Okay, then!” And she strips off her dress. Since she is wearing nothing but a thong underneath, her huge breasts spill out wild and free. “Oh, wow,” Zephyr says. “I gotta pee so bad—but I just have to touch your boobs, Dacy. They’re so lovely. Is that okay?” Wait. Why stop there? [rewinding noise goes here] Dacy is driving, and Zephyr is in the passenger seat, and he’s in back with Meagan watching all three. All three girls are desperate. Zephyr and Dacy are incredibly squirmy; Meagan is stone-still. All are delightful. He can’t wait to see Dacy naked, with her hands on her pussy… in fact… [fast-forward] “Fuck, fuck, I’m about to piss myself,” Dacy says. She’s got both hands on her pussy, pushing up her astonishing breasts with her arms. “It’s okay for you, you’re just in a thong,” Meagan says. “If you peed right now, you might just plain miss your underwear.” “Well, take yours off, then!” “Dacy, I am about to explode all over the floor—but I just have to touch your boobs, Dacy, they’re so lovely…” No, I want to play it out all the way. [rewind (again)] All three girls are running to the bathroom at the gas station. But he knows that they won’t be able to use it, that there’s someone in there. The gas starts pumping, but his eyes never leave the gas station door. All three come running back. Slow-motion, now: Zephyr clutching herself with one hand as she runs, panic in her eyes. Dacy looking just as panicked, but the real appeal here is her breasts bouncing all over the place (after all, later on she’ll be topless just by taking off her dress, so she must be braless now) and her short dress nearly flashing her tiny underwear at Parker with every stride. Meagan looking determined, but with that Yeah, I know you think this is hot look in her eyes. In fact, she looks down at his hard-on and licks her lips, knowing what’s to come… Parker came again, alone in the dark of their room. It was a pitiful climax for all that build-up. He stayed kneeling on the bed, his spunk soaking through the tissue and dripping onto the sheets. Then he deliberately banged his head against the wall—once, twice—and half-gasped, half-snarled. What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck are we doing? Doing to each other? I’m losing you… ...and you’re losing me. Never there You’re never there You’re never ever ever—
  6. This time with actual sexy bits! ----------------------------------------------------------------------- The next day, after the two young people finally woke up, Will Daniels took Meagan and Parker out to the Christmas tree farm to select and cut their tree. Trimming the tree took up much of the afternoon, and after dinner all for of them sat around in front of the fire. The next few days passed with warmth and snuggles and still further snowfights. Meagan and Parker spent a long time each day in bed—sometimes having sex, when Will and Donna had gone off to work for the day, but mostly just camped out, reading books or watching movies. Meagan insisted on helping with the cooking and cleaning, however, so that took some further time. And once the elder Danielses were home, they had wide-ranging conversations over dinner, never knowing where the talk would go next and (shortly) never knowing exactly how and why they’d gotten to where the talk currently was. And, yes, there were Christmas movies and hot chocolate in front of the fire. Meagan and Parker had gotten home on the 17th. The cousins arrived on the 22nd for a long weekend. Corey was pretty reserved—not altogether sullen; it was Christmas, after all. Maddie, on the other hand, took to Meagan exactly as predicted, cemented firmly in a two-on-two snow battle in the backyard, girls (Meagan and Maddie) versus boys (Parker and his dad). After that, Meagan essentially had to pry Maddie off with a crowbar any time she needed to be alone. That wasn’t even totally metaphorical, as the girl was frequently literally hanging off Meagan’s arm, or clambering up her for piggyback rides. So it was Meagan, Maddie, and Karen (Maddie’s mom) who were making the traditional family cookies. Parker was helping by “making pleasant conversation” as Karen had ordered him to do, and by taste-testing whenever the bakers weren’t looking. Corey was playing on his Gameboy at the table, drawn in by the promise of baked goods. “‘Secret family recipe,’” Meagan had said. “Am I allowed to be part of this?” “Yep!” Maddie said. “You’re in the family now.” “Oh, good. I was wondering if you were gonna make me mix the batter blindfolded or something.” “Not to worry,” Karen said. “Yeah, just don’t tell anyone the secret ingredient, or then we’d have to kill you,” Parker added. “What, you mean the…?” “Don’t say it out loud! There are spies everywhere!” As Maddie ferociously attacked the batter with a wooden spoon, and Karen set about greasing up some trays, Meagan stepped out into the dining room and gave Parker a hug. “I’m loving this,” she whispered. “Yeah. This is Christmas,” Parker said. “Almost perfect.” “Mmmmmmhmmmm.” “And you haven’t even had the cookies yet.” “I’ve had the batter. It’s delicious as is.” “Yeah, but the finished product is even more amazing.” When the first cookies came out of the oven, Meagan gasped. “They’re huge!” “Yup!” Maddie said. “Now, let ‘em cool for a minute—but just a minute, they’re best when they’re still warm in the middle…” The minute passed, the girl picked one right up off the tray and held it up to feed it to Meagan. Meagan dutifully took a bite, and then—“Oh. Oh, my,” she mumbled, her mouth full. “This—this is like the God of All Cookies.” “Does he know the God of Hedgehogs?” Parker murmured in her ear. “Probably. But this one tastes better. Much, much better.” “Who’s the God of Hedgehogs?” Maddie demanded. So naturally Meagan had to tell the story of how they first met—touching only lightly on the bathroom aspect—and then how they re-met out on the field and got to know each other, and re-telling the story made Parker fall in love with her all over again. That night they spooned together in Parker’s bed—the only way to do it, as his bed wasn’t really built for two—and Meagan said quietly, “So here’s a funny twist.” “Hmmm?” “You told me Maddie would love me, and she obviously does. But I think both your cousins have a crush on me.” “Maddie’s a little young for crushes…” “Oh, no she isn’t. I don’t think she really knows what’s going on, but she’s totally got a thing for me. So much touching. But I didn’t see Corey coming.” “He hasn’t said two words to you!” “True. But he’s been sneaking peeks at me constantly.” “I hadn’t noticed.” “That’s because you’re watching me, not him. Try keeping an eye on him tomorrow. You’ll see.” The next day was Christmas Eve. As instructed, Parker watched Corey—and saw that, yes, the reserved teenager was definitely watching Meagan closely. He had a tendency to drift into her presence, though he would simply sit and play games rather than interacting. Whenever she walked by, his eyes would follow her—especially her butt. And he had a tendency to look away, or leave the room, when Meagan and Parker got a little clingy. Parker was at first amused, but once seen, he couldn’t unsee it—and when Corey’s stares got a little too hungry, Parker found himself getting clingy with Meagan more than usual. He’d have spent the whole weekend hugging her if Maddie hadn’t demanded so much attention and physical activity. After dinner, Will lit the fire, and Karen made hot chocolate, and there were leftover cookies, and everyone snuggled together in the living room with the lights down, watching the fire. Since couch and chair space was at a premium, Meagan was sitting in Parker’s lap. Maddie had attempted to sit in Meagan’s lap in turn, but she was gently dissuaded from crushing Parker underneath. Corey positioned himself so he didn’t have to look at them, and Maddie was all over the rug. “Want some more, Maddie?” Meagan asked, getting up. “Yes please!” “Only because it’s Christmas,” Karen said warningly. “And this is your last cup.” Meagan poured herself a second mug and brought Maddie one as well. By the time the girl was finished, however, Meagan had not only polished off her mug, she’d drunk some water and made some tea for a chaser. Parker began to get suspicious—and hopeful. Hope was replaced by certainty as she casually drew a letter P on his arm. And since she could get up and go to the bathroom any time, but wasn’t doing anything of the sort, he seemed pretty sure it was for his benefit. Strangely, however, he felt a little ambivalent. There seemed something weird about playing sexual hold-it games on Christmas Eve. Parker’s family was barely religious, but there still seemed something off about it. If nothing else, Christmas was about family. It was an absolute delight that Meagan had been accepted in as part of that family. But still—it was a family time, not fantasy time. The grown-ups started yawning and then retired to bed—or, rather, the older generation retired to bed, as Meagan had to be considered a grown-up, too. Instead she and Parker stayed up with the kids a little longer, until she finally did a very mom-like thing and told Maddie to bed down. Perhaps because of the sugar or because of the occasion, this took rather longer than it should have, and it was only by simply closing Parker’s door in Maddie’s face that Meagan made her escape. She turned to Parker, drew him close, draped her arms around his neck, and kissed him a long, long time. “So,” she whispered in his ear, “ ‘All I want for Christmas is you.’ ” “ ‘I can arrange that,’ ” Parker whispered back. “ ‘You could use a good kiss.’ ” “I think you’re mixing quotations.” “Some things are instinctual. Why are we whispering?” “Because your parents are just across the hall, Maddie and Corey are both really tuned in to what I’m up to today, and what I do next I wanna keep just between us.” “Mm. What did you have in mind?” “You know.” He nodded. He also could not keep a secret. “What’s up?” she said, still whispering. “Christmas doesn’t seem like the time.” “Well, we don’t have to if you don’t want to. But two things: one, I’ve been imagining this—wanting this—since your parents invited me, and two, whatever you decide, can you decide quickly?” And he realized she was already locked down. “Uh… wanting this?” She put her mouth right up to his ear. “I want you in me while I’m full. I really do.” “You make a compelling case. Convince me?” “I will. But no more whispers.” “How…?” She pushed him down onto the edge of his bed, turned on the bedside light, turned off the overhead light, and then danced. It wasn’t just a pee dance, and it wasn’t just a striptease, and it wasn’t just her getting her groove on, either, but a combination of all three. He flashed back to the first time she’d ever held it just for him—his birthday—and how she’d merged her dance party with her desperate wriggling. This was much the same, except that she was also slowly unbuttoning her flannel shirt. It was, he realized, the same one she’d been wearing for the photoshoot. And she pulled the same trick, gradually working her way out of all the layers underneath it while leaving the flannel still on her shoulders. Her breasts swaying with each move, she danced on. Each time she bent down, or crossed her legs, or spun, he wondered if it was triggered by the dance or the desperation, until he realized it was both. She straddled his lap, placing his hand on the bare skin just above the waistband on her hip, and kissed him deeply, pressing herself against him at every point. She had to press one hand against her crotch for a moment, her face a mixture of amusement and anxiety, and he realized that having her legs spread that wide was increasingly hard for her. She whispered in his ear, “Decided?” “Yes. Yes, yes, yes.” “Good.” She slid off him, went to her knees, unzipped his fly. She stroked them both, one hand on each groin—but occasionally letting her effort at holding show in her face, as the hand she had busy on herself had to stop and hold for a minute. Then she placed his own hand on his cock, got up, and started dancing again. The wriggling was much more obvious now, conveying without words just how much she needed to go. She unbuttoned her shorts—half for the striptease, half for the access it allowed her fingers, which were spending a lot of time down there by now. Her pirouettes were all done cross-legged now. He was hard, all reservations forgotten. She got her shorts down, kicked them off, and then had to cross her legs still tighter. She pantomimed the relief of dropping pants while at a toilet—lifting an imaginary lid and squatting to complete the picture—then grabbed herself with both hands and danced around to show that she was all the more desperate because of getting her shorts off. He realized she was probably overacting a little to show more clearly what was up with her body, to make up for the lack of words. He felt a moment’s irritation—and then decided he didn’t care. He stood up, stripping off his shirt and letting his jeans fall to the floor, and pantomimed something else, with a gesture both ancient and easily understood. Meagan shook her head, tapped her wrist where her watch usually was, jerked a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the living room where Corey and Maddie were, and mimed sleep. We’re stalling until they’ve gone to bed, he mentally translated. And to get you more full, he responded by hand gesture (pointing at her bladder and indicating it filling up). She nodded energetically, showing she understood, and kept dancing. But then she stopped dancing and bent over a little, hands between her legs, and repeated his earlier “Time to fuck?” gesture, with a questioning look on her face. He nodded, but pointed back to her. She nodded back, grabbing the lube to show she was ready to go with a little help. They got their underwear off, so the only article of clothing between them was still her flannel shirt, and lubed him up thoroughly. She pushed him back down to a sitting position, straddled him once again—this time with a look of momentary agony in her eyes as her legs spread—and guided him into her. It was strangely more intimate than much of their recent lovemaking—sex in the silence. They indicated to each other how they were doing with glances, small gestures, small squeezes. Despite her desperation, she somehow managed to hold it with her legs spread. She did rub herself a lot—and she was incredibly tight around his cock, showing she was using all her inner muscles to keep her pee in. Which made her feel incredible. Which he told her, through gesture and facial expression. She grinned, a lopsided dead-sexy grin with her hair falling across her face and her shoulders, her breath coming a little quick through her smile, head cocked to the side a little. He had one hand around her waist and cupping her butt to help keep her in his lap. The other he ran up to her breast, stroking the undersides and circling her nipple, and then snaked around behind her to feel up her sexy back under her shirt. She leaned back against his grip and formed a heart with both hands, pressing it first against her own heart and then to his. Then she put her hands on his shoulders and flung back her head, eyes half-lidded in bliss. She never once stopped riding him. To his amazement—for no hands were anywhere near her crotch and her vibe was still in its drawer—he felt telltale contractions around his cock. It wasn’t her trying to hold back her pee, either. In a moment, the ripples of her muscles were unmistakable. So was the look on her face. Both set him off. He came deep and long into her. But not as long as she came, for she was still climaxing after he was spent. Flushed and grinning and out of breath, she nuzzled him, kissed him, bit his lip gently, nuzzled him some more. He kissed her back, then gestured to show fireworks, with a look of surprise. She tapped the base of his cock, then tapped her bladder, and gave a big thumbs up. He nodded in the direction of the bathroom, a question mark in his eyes. She shrugged—an incredibly sexy gesture, in that moment—and held him. Both with her arms and with her vaginal muscles. He buried his face in her shoulder, drinking in her scent, marvelling once again just how insanely lucky he was. Eventually he softened and she squeezed him out. She grabbed a handful of tissues and mopped up some of the mess. But by now she was trembling with the effort of holding back her piss with just her inner muscles, and she jumped off his lap to crotch-grab and bend over. He followed her up, caressing her back, admiring her dangling breasts, kissing her hair and shoulders, and then pointed to the bathroom. She nodded eagerly—and then her mouth twisted a little, perplexed, and she gestured to her almost-naked, sweaty body. He helped her button up her shirt, and then sacrificed some sweatpants to the cause. She was jiggling (always a pleasant sight) as he got them up her legs; then he quickly donned a pair of his own, and they slipped silently across the hall to the bathroom. He closed the door of his room behind them, so the light would not wake the cousins, and Meagan waited until he was in and the bathroom door closed before she flipped on the light. The light revealed that she had her other hand entirely down her borrowed pants. She wiggled again, looking helpless. He removed her clothing again, gently, with no hurry, adding kisses to each bit of exposed skin, as she smiled and sighed and grimaced and squirmed. Finally she was naked, and at his nod she sat down to pee. The look on her face was blissful. He took his turn peeing, and then they washed each other a little, with warm washcloths only (a shower would be too loud). Every place he cleaned he kissed. Finally they stood, all cleaned up, naked, making out with soft little kisses, until she shivered—for the heat hadn’t been on for a while. Meagan didn’t bother getting dressed this time. She just gathered up her shirt and sweats, turned out the light, and opened the door. In the darkness, the crack of faint light from under Parker’s door was their only guide. She listened and heard nothing from Maddie or Corey. She stepped across to Parker’s door, Parker right behind her, and then slipped in quickly. When they were in bed and under the covers and warmed up (which again involved making out), Meagan whispered, “Merry Christmas, Parker.” “Merry Christmas. And thank you.” “You’re welcome—and thank you. I got just what I wanted.”
  7. Here's some more. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- It was snowing when they got to Parker’s hometown, coming down in small flakes very lightly. When the welcoming hugs had been made and the celebratory supper had been eaten, they looked out the window and saw the snow had piled itself up a lot higher. “Wanna go for a walk with me?” Meagan asked Parker. “Do I ever.” “Shall we all go?” Will Daniels asked. “After we clean up, of course…” “That sounds nice,” Donna said, “but Meagan, you and Parker should go now. No need to wait on us. We’d only slow you down, after all.” They suited up against the cold—it was dry snow, not likely to get them too wet until they came back inside—and tromped out into the night. The clouds were very low, and faintly lit up by the city lights, so it was much brighter of a night than might have been expected. It was quiet, though, with most folks home and staying there. They walked, gloved hand in gloved hand, out to the park where they’d passed a memorable night the previous summer, and then further, across the street to the empty old school, and up the little hill beyond. There were lights and Christmas decorations everywhere, but no people. The fresh snow was crunchy beneath their feet. “This is nice,” Meagan said. “Yeah.” “Our first Christmas together.” “Mmmhmm.” And maybe our only one together. “Christmas is really special to me, y’know,” she said. “I didn’t know. You haven’t talked much about it.” “My family is… well, you know about my family. But Christmas was special. Especially Christmas Eve. For one night a year, at least, my dad would sober up, switch to hot chocolate, and be a real father. He’d light the fire, and put up the tree if he hadn’t already, and generally—well, generally be a dad. I think it helped that he would have been home from work that day anyway—if he’d been working, I mean. And there would be presents. I think because she was worried about the next day, when I was about ten my mom started the tradition of opening one present for each of us on Christmas Eve. So we’d drink hot chocolate and open a present and hang up the stockings and turn out all the lights and watch the fire until I fell asleep. It was always the best time.” “That sounds really lovely. And I imagine it was even more lovely since you didn’t get a lot of moments like that.” “Yeah. Fewer and fewer each year. At first my dad would stay pretty sober until a day or two after Christmas. But as the money got tighter and the presents got smaller and cheaper, he got madder and madder. At himself, you know. For not being a provider. So he’d start drinking on Christmas Day, too. By the time I came home for Christmas my freshman year, he wasn’t happy about it, but he still stayed sober on Christmas Eve. The next year, he couldn’t even manage that much. And last year was just bad.” “I’m sorry.” “Yeah.” They crunched on through the snow for a bit. “I miss my dad.” “Your real dad,” he said. “What do you mean?” “Your dad when he’s not drunk and depressed.” Meagan sighed. “I think that’s who he really is now.” “Underneath, though? I mean, you said it yourself. He was angry because he couldn’t do right for you. So he missed being your real dad, too.” “You know, I never thought of it that way?” She crunched on for a moment and then added, “Thank you. That helped.” “You’re welcome.” “I’d be there right now,” she said, “if not for you.” “You’re welcome again. I hope.” “What do you mean, ‘hope’?” “I wasn’t entirely sure if ‘if not for you’ was a good thing. Since you miss your real dad, and you’re worried about your mom.” “Let’s put it this way,” Meagan said after a moment. “This year with you won’t be the best Christmas ever. But it’ll be the best Christmas since I was… uh… twelve.” “I’m honored.” “You’re welcome. Definitely welcome. And I am so grateful to you and to your parents. I wouldn’t trade my parents for anybody, no matter how bad it got—but I am so grateful to be with the Daniels family today.” “Good.” “Christmas could be real important, y’know,” she added. “For next year, I mean.” “You’d want to come here again?” he said, gesturing for them to turn down a different block. “I’d absolutely want to.” “I think you could come no matter what,” he said carefully. “Even if we’re not…” “If we’re not together anymore?” “Yeah. I mean—you’d need a place to go.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t do that to you.” “Oh.” “And grad students don’t live in dorms, y’know. Wherever I end up, I’ll have my own place. Or a room of my own, anyway. Which means you could come to visit—if.” “Yeah. If.” They crunched. “Weren’t we gonna not talk about the future during the break?” “I didn’t say that. I said we should enjoy the break—which I guess means we can only talk about the future if it’s enjoyable?” “Mmmkay.” “Sorry, though. We were talking about the past, and then that just sorta naturally flowed into the future…” “As is so often the case with time.” “Hah, yes. And, well—here’s the honest truth, Parker. The only thing I’d ever give you up for is my future. But I really really hope you’re actually in my future. That I don’t have to choose.” “That’s nice to hear,” Parker said, his heart suddenly feeling a bit lighter. “Enjoyable, even?” “Really.” “Good.” “So you wanna stay together after you graduate?” “I absolutely wanna try.” “Good,” he said. “That 'try' isn’t super-enjoyable, though.” “It is for me. It’s maybe not blissful,” Meagan said, “but keeping you in my life as long as I possibly can seems like a darn good idea.” “I just wish we could say we’d stay together for sure.” “Oh, lover, nobody can say that,” Meagan said. “So much can happen. Nobody can know what’s coming.” “That’s true." “I mean, I might get hit by a bus. Or you could die in a freak gaming accident.” “Fair enough!” They had circled back around and were coming up to the little park from a different angle. Parker said, “So we’d be long-distance for sure to start with.” “Well, I’ll try to work at camp again, so yeah. And then off to—wherever.” “Yeah. You’re right, Christmas would be a big deal. But I’d rather not wait for Christmas. Or even Thanksgiving. I’d wanna go visit you for weekends and so on. Maybe we can work out our schedules so we can take some time off on Fridays. Or one of us could, at least. I’ll try not to sign up for any Friday afternoon classes. A lot depends—I mean, everything depends on where you end up. There’s just so much we don’t know right now. …Meagan?” He stopped and looked around. She was nowhere to be seen. “Meagan?” he called. Whack! The snowball hit him right on the shoulder. “Hah, yes! Direct hit!” He spun around. She was already packing up her second snowball, and before he could gather one of his own, she hurled hers. He ducked and blocked it with his arm, but it still splattered all over him. “Oh, now you’ve done it,” Parker said, and finished his own ball. But Meagan ducked behind a tree as he threw, and his snowball shattered harmlessly against the trunk. Laughing, kicking up snow with their toes as the ran, scooping up a double handful where they could, packing it as they ran, throwing on the fly… they darted between the trees, discovered the snow was too light there for efficient ball-making, ran out onto the basketball court to gather up more—but risked exposure and lack of cover as they did… Before long Meagan was standing atop the play structure, scooping up and hurling balls as he came on in pursuit. Hurry threw off her aim, and she missed more than she connected, but still got him hard in the face as he began to climb up. He roared with fury, brushing off the snow with the back of his hand so he could see again, only to get hit in the arm by another snow-missile. He finally could see her, somewhat, and flung the snowball he’d been hoarding. She had to duck to avoid it, and in that moment he clambered up the kid-sized ladder to the top of her fort. She made one more throw—it went wide—he rushed her, tackled her—kissed her— “Time called on account of makeouts,” he said breathlessly, after they broke. “Mmm, not a time-out, I think,” Meagan said. “We’re talking a full-on weather-related cancellation.” “How could a snowball fight be canceled for weather when the snow’s still coming down?” “What, you don’t think it’s getting awfully hot?” she said, and kissed him again.
  8. Thanks for letting me know! I've fixed the links. But if you'd really like to start at the beginning (a human being after my own heart, I always have to start from the top), PM me and I'll send you the first two books.
  9. Hey, everybody! I'm sorry the story a little late and unseasonal, but it's next in the overall arc, so I can't really skip it. I also think the wait was worth it: I now have three stories fully written and ready to go. I'm still going to put them out a little slowly, in part because I like teasing y'all (it's all about the anticipation), and in part because that will give me time to write the next few after that. I've been getting a lot of writing done and hope to continue that, so we're really gonna start getting somewhere with this storyline! This is entitled Merry Christmas, Parker because it's set during Christmas, and because Housemates: I Swear There's Some Omo Content In Here Somewhere or Housemates: No, I Haven't Forgotten Which Website I'm Posting This On seemed a bit... wordy. There's a LOT of buildup/character moments/plot in here, but I promise there will be some good ol' fashioned Meagan-gets-desperate by the end, once again in a new context. Just hope you like cute romance, too. If you don't, then you certainly shouldn't click on any of these: Road Trip The Trouble With Housemates Rainy Sunday Flipping the Script Moments ----------------------------------------- “Why are your parents calling me?” Meagan said, looking at her phone. “Huh, can’t think why.” She hit the answer button. “Shit, I missed them.” “Darn, now we’ll never know what they wanted.” “Until I call back.” “We’ll never know!” She stuck out her tongue at him and dialed. “Uh, hi! This is Meagan… I’m good, thanks, yourself?… Yeah, he’s here. Hang on, let me put it on speaker.” Donna Daniels’ voice, a bit distorted by the phone, filled the room. “Parker, are you there?” “Hey, mom. What’s up?” “This call is mostly for Meagan, but it’s good that you’re both hearing it. Meagan, dear, we don’t know your plans for Christmas, and we don’t want to assume. But we did want to let you know that without question you are welcome to stay with us.” “Aww, Donna—thank you,” Meagan said. “However, we wanted to warn you that it’s our year to host my brother and his family. So there will be four more people here than usual. We usually put Greg and Karen—my brother and sister-in-law—in the guest room. Corey, my nephew, has often shared a room with Parker; he’s in high school. My niece Maddie usually gets the couch. But if you’re going to be with us we’ll need to rearrange that a bit.” “Well, if I’d be intruding…” “Don’t even think it, Meagan,” Donna said warningly. “I said you’re welcome and I mean it. My current plan is to have Corey and Maddie on the floor in the living room and have you with Parker, since I trust you’ve got no problem sharing a room by now.” “None whatsoever,” Parker put in. “Yeah, that’s fine,” Meagan said. “Better than fine. Donna—this means a lot. I was hoping I could crash with you again, but hearing you make the offer…” “I understand, dear. You are welcome any time. Parker?” “Yes, mom?” “I love you, and I’ll see you in a couple weeks.” “Love you too, mom.” Goodbyes were made—and Meagan tackled him with a hug. “Oof! What was that for?” “Because I love your family and because I love you and because I can’t do that to your dad right now.” “Not my mom?” “I wouldn’t hug-tackle your mom. Your dad, totally. And you, obviously.” She squeezed him tight again, then parked herself next to him on the bed. “So what am I in for? What are all the embarrassing Daniels Family holiday rituals?” A note of trepidation sneaked into her voice. “Am I gonna have to watch It’s a Wonderful Life?” “Nah, we’re strictly a Year Without a Santa Claus family.” “Your family has exquisite taste.” “And sometimes the Star War Holiday Special.” “Your family has abysmal taste.” “What? I mean, it’s bad, sure, but…” “‘But’ what? The abomination needs to be wiped off the face of the earth. Kill it with fire. Seriously, this is making me reconsider our whole relationship…” “Sheeesh. One embarrassing family ritual and she flips out,” he said lightly. As light as the banter required, but more lightly than he really felt after “reconsider our whole relationship” had gone by. “It’s like I don’t even know you anymore, man!” “Nah, I’m pretty sure I burned that tape.” “Oh, okay.” She kissed his cheek. “All is forgiven.” “In all seriousness, what you need to know is that my dad gets a little bit like the dad from Calvin & Hobbes. Always going out in the cold, turning down the heat… ‘It builds character!’” “I’ll steal more sweatshirts from you.” “Haven’t you squeezed me dry for hoodies already?” “And cuddle up to you.” “For the first time in my life, my dad’s thermostat habits are working in my favor.” “How are the cousins? Carrie and… no, wait…” “Corey and Maddie. They’re both enough younger than me that I never really liked having them around until a few years ago. Corey has got that sullen-teenager thing going, but he’s tolerable once he warms up a bit.” “Forewarned is forearmed.” “You’ll like Maddie—and she’ll absolutely love you. She’s a total tomboy. You’re gonna get along great.” “’Kay!” “Oh, and you’ll get to eat the secret-recipe family cookies.” “Oooh. Something else to look forward to.” Her face fell a little. “I’ve got no cash for presents, though.” “Everybody knows we’re broke college kids. They won’t expect much from us. We might need to get Maddie something to keep her happy, but if you show up, help out, and sing along, that’s all you need to do.” “Sing along…?” “To the Snow Miser song!” “Have you heard me sing, hon?” “Aww, you’re not that bad…!” ----------------------------------------------------------------- “Hey.” “Hey what?” “I was thinking.” “Uh-oh.” She bopped his shoulder. “I may have deserved that.” “You surely did. I was thinking about Christmas break.” “Yeah?” “That’s almost a whole month. And we’ll have nothing to worry about. I did all my applications; all I can do about that is wait. Classes are done for the semester. So we are totally worry-free.” “I guess so.” “Except I know you’re worried about the future.” “…Yeah. That’s what why I didn’t say ‘yes’.” “I’m worried too. But here’s what I’m thinking: let’s just enjoy the break. No matter what happens, we’ll have that time together. And no matter what happens, no one can take the memories from us.” “Well, when you say 'no one'…” “No one who isn’t a fictional supervillain can take the memories from us,” Meagan said, with admirable calm. “Okay. I hear what you’re saying.” “So let’s have some fun. And not just the kind in bed. But let’s have lots of that too. So we’ve got good memories. Come what may.” “Come what may.—If this turns into a Moulin Rouge singalong…” “Well, so what if it does?” “Then it’s proof that you can sing after all!” -------------------------- Darn it, now I have Christmas songs stuck in my head again. I'll get more up later today or early next week. And I really really really promise there'll be some desperation. Someday.
  10. Weasel

    Housemates: Moments

    The final "moment". The next story will be more unified. ------------------------------------------------------------ Tuesday, November 29th, 2005 9:02pm Zephyr had to pee again. She was being pretty vocal about it, too: “Ohmigod omigod, I can’t hold it, I can’t hold it, it’s coming out, I’m gonna—I’m gonna pee—” “You can’t, not until you find the save point,” Parker said. “Tell me where it is!” Parker laughed, waving the map that came with the game. “It’s right here. Want me to tell you where it is? Then pay the price.” “Tellmetellmetellme…” “Pay up.” “Fine,” she said, unzipping her big hoodie down the front with one hand and letting it fall open. She was bare-breasted underneath; her nipples hardened. Her other hand never left the game controls. “Why do you want to see my boobs so much, anyway? I’m topless half the time…” “It’s not just that. It’s seeing you with your sweatshirt on and seeing your boobs; that’s hot. What’s even hotter is hearing you beg.” “Parker, I promise I’ll do whatever you want, just show me the save point…” “Whatever I want, huh? Well, what I want you to do is hold it for another ten minutes.” “I can’t…!” Parker was spinning this fantasy in his head and hating himself for it. But he kept it going. He’d already decided how he was going to make Fantasy-Zephyr pee (in a cup he held for her while she had to keep playing). He was getting pretty close; when he came, he’d let Fantasy-Zephyr pee at last. The door was flung wide and Meagan entered dramatically, one arm flung out to the doorframe, the other cocky on her hip. “Done! I am, completely, totally, one hundred percent—what are you…” She slammed one hand into her mouth, slammed the door behind her, and buckled over laughing. “I didn’t think you would be home so soon…” Parker said, jumping off the bed and turning his back. “Obviously!” she managed to gasp. She was on her knees now. “Is it really that funny?” Parker said. He’d pulled up his sweatpants, but since he was still pretty erect, this was doing less than it might have for his modesty. “I guess when you’ve been working like I have, anything is,” Meagan managed to say, between gasps. She had her hand on her crotch. “Oh, god, I’m gonna piss myself!” “Wait, what?” “That can happen to a girl, you know,” she said. Her guffaws were finally subsiding. “Would you like that?” she said, looking up at him. “I never thought about getting you desperate by making you laugh.” “Honestly, it’s only because I need to go a bit as is,” she said. “But let me tell you, lover, you’re funny enough when you’re on your game—by this point in the relationship, if you were dating anyone but me, you would have made her piss her pants laughing at some point.” “Thanks?” “You’re totally welcome.” She shook her head, as if trying to clear the last of the giggle fit, and got to her feet. “Anyway. As I was saying, I am completely, totally, one-hundred-percent done with grad school applications. Sent one off today with a whole three days to spare, then went ahead and powered through the last two even if I had a little more time. So that’s done and I don’t need to think about it at any more! And I am in the mood to celebrate.” “What did you have in mind?” “Well, my original plan was to take us out for ice cream. But suddenly, somehow,” she said, stepping close to him and letting her fingers trail down his naked chest, “I have a different idea.” “Oh?” “Like I said, I need to pee a bit. And I don’t think I’m up for a long drawn-out thing, so I can’t really get as desperate as you like—but would you like to fuck me while I’m holding?” “God yes.” “I thought you might.” She traced his extremely-visible erection with her fingers. “I know we haven’t done this nearly often enough lately.” “Yeah, a bit.” “That’s why you’ve been jacking off, huh?” He blushed. “Not just tonight. I was pretty sure you’d been getting yourself off for a while now. I understand completely, and I’m not mad or anything. It’s not like I’m jealous of your right hand. But tonight—we can do better, eh?” “Please.” “Of course.” She stripped off her sweatshirt. “You’ve got a head start; I’ll need a while to warm up. But that means I’ll just need to go even more when you get me there, huh?” Twenty minutes later, she was naked and bent over the bed, resting her weight on one arm and guiding her vibrator with her other hand. “I think I’m ready if you are,” she said, turning her head a little even if she couldn’t see him. “How much do you need to pee?” “Oh, I gotta go for sure. I’d have gone already—if I didn’t want you in me first. So come on in, lover. But gently, please?” “Of course,” he said, adding a little more lube. “Mmmmmmmmm,” she said as he slid in. “That feels so darn good.” “And you’re so tight…” “’Cause I’m so strong.” She gave him a squeeze. “Ah!” “Like that? Keep going, hon…” It did not take him long. “I’m close,” he said after just a few minutes. “Should I…?” “You go right ahead,” she told him. “I was gonna have to finish with the vibe anyway. Go ahead and come in me. I got you. I got all of you.” And she did. When he finished, he slipped out of her quickly. “Can you turn over?” he asked. “I wanna see you.” She turned over, vibe still going, and smiled lazily up at him. “There’s that grin,” he said. He went down to his knees and gently pulled the vibrator away. “Oh my,” she said. “I haven’t cleaned up down there at all, you know.” “Don’t care.” “I mean, your cum’s gonna be dribbling out of me…” “Always wondered how it tasted. Just lie back.” “Holy fuck, I love you…” “Well then,” he said, pausing briefly to speak, “I guess that goes both ways.”
  11. Weasel

    Housemates: Moments

    7:33pm after dinner The downside to having a house full of other people’s family: lines for the bathroom. At first it had just been that the downstairs bathroom was in fairly regular use. Then after short lines had begun forming, the house residents had taken to going upstairs. But when some parent or other took up occupation in the downstairs bathroom for an extended period after dinner, the lines really began to form. Meagan and Parker were once again at the back of the line—which once again extended right down the hall and then down the stairs. At this point Parker couldn’t even see the bathroom doors, and didn’t know who was ahead of him. The first person he could see and recognize (unlike various relatives) was Dacy, who had her arms crossed but was showing no other sign of need. Behind her was Lucy, who looked a bit more worried, and then Lucy’s mom Darlene. And then, right on the step ahead of Parker, was Zephyr. She wasn’t doing her usual grab-her-crotch-to-grab-attention routine. But she was clearly desperate, with her legs crossed… and she was well back in line. Meagan, with her usual poise, seemed entirely untroubled. In the presence of so many people they didn’t know, the housemates were not quite their usual talkative selves. Darlene was talking with Lucy and Dacy, making no reference to the long line. Nobody else was saying anything—not out loud, anyway. Body language was speaking a little more clearly. The bathroom door opened, and Miranda’s mother slipped past the line to get down the stairs. “My goodness,” she said as she turned the corner and saw how far back the line had gone. “I’m glad I went when I did!” Next down the steps came another relative Parker didn’t recognize; then Randy came out, and the line moved up a little. Now Parker could see that Travis and Miranda’s brother Ezekiel were ahead of Dacy, and at the head of the line. Next out was Travis’ brother, who emerged shaking his head and saying, “Whew, I would not go in there for a minute.” Trav stepped in and immediately stepped back out, holding his nose and saying, “Wow, bro…” He swung the door back and forth as a big fan for a minute, then took a deep breath and closed the door. He was back out a minute later and hollered after his now-vanishing brother, “Seriously, bro?” “What?” “You clogged the toilet and just left it?” Unrepentant laughter floated up the stairs. Travis bit off a swearword. “Where’s your plunger?” Darlene asked, entirely practical. “In there,” Travis said, pointing to the other bathroom door—which naturally was closed. It took a few minutes before another unknown relative stepped out and Travis could grab the plunger. “Sorry about this, folks, I’ll get this open as quick as I can,” Trav said, and closed the door behind him. This meant Ezekiel got to use the other open room—and Dacy, Lucy, Darlene, and Zephyr all began to show some signs of tension. Zepyhr was by far the worst. She was still much more quiet than usual, but she went from legs-crossed to legs-crossed-and-bent over-and-bouncing-a-little. As usual she was not wearing a bra. Despite being so small-breasted, her nipples were obviously poking through her t-shirt. Parker was, as usual, a mass of turmoil in the presence of a desperate Zephyr. His guilt over his fantasies came on hard; but so did his arousal. He looked back at Meagan instead—who was standing quite calmly, quite clearly not desperate. She gave him a knowing look. Now Parker was desperate himself—desperate to get out of the situation entirely. He leaned close to Meagan—first to kiss her, then to whisper in her ear, “Jar?” She shook her head. He gestured, subtly, at the line head of them, with a questioning look in his eyes. She shook her head again, and whispered in his ear, “Questions.” It took him a moment, since that word put him back in the earlier conversations about future plans. But then it made sense. True, what would people think if he and Meagan stepped into their room for a few minutes, then came back out and went downstairs, without going to the bathroom? What kind of cover story could they come up with. Zephyr interrupted this line of thinking with a whimper. Everyone turned to look at her. Ezekiel had been in the bathroom quite some time now, and Trav had yet to reappear and report the other toilet available. Zephyr was clearly once again in serious trouble thanks to that small bladder. Her legs were double-crossed now, and though she wasn’t grabbing herself, she clearly wanted to—every now and then her hand would start to move toward her crotch, but she’d pull it away again before it got too obvious what she was doing. Instead her fists were clenched tightly, and she was bouncing more dramatically now. “Oooh, sweetie,” said Darlene, “you look like you really gotta go!” Zephyr nodded. “I’ve got a bladder like a peanut,” she said—again without that little-girl vibe she often put on. “I didn’t think the line would be so long.” “I don’t think any of us did,” Darlene said. “Here, go ahead of me, hon.” “You can go ahead of me, too, Zeph,” Lucy said—although she looked like she regretted making the offer. “Hey, Zeph,” Dacy said, “when Ezekiel gets out, why don’t we go in together?” “Can I just go ahead of you?” “Well, I really need to go, too,” Dacy answered, “so I’d rather not.” “So where could I go even if I did go in with you?” Zephyr asked, impatiently. “That’s what bathtubs are for, hon,” Dacy said. “Sometimes, at least.” Several eyes looked to see how the parent in this conversation handled that idea, but Darlene was a farm mother. She said, “And if you don’t like the bathtub idea, there’s always the sink.” Zephyr shook her head. Just then Ezekiel stepped out. Dacy paused in the doorway—legs crossed under her dress—and turned back to Zephyr again. “Come on, Zeph.” “I can’t.” “I don’t mind at all.” “I do!” “Really? You’re shy?” Dacy asked, incredulous. Zephyr was now blushing beet-red—and wiggling like crazy. “Okay, then!” Dacy said, and closed the door behind her. “You should still go ahead of us, hon,” Darlene said, and after only a moment’s more cajoling, Zephyr was persuaded to do so. Dacy was out quickly, and Zephyr went in. By now Parker was nearly to the bathroom himself—and the loud hiss and splatter of Zephyr’s pee was quite audible in the hall. Lucy winced when she heard it. “I don’t know about you, hon, but at this point I think sharing is a good idea,” Darlene said to her daughter. Lucy gave a little nod—and when Zephyr came out (still blushing but looking vastly relieved) Lucy stepped in and held the door for her mother. “Which of us gets the tub?” she asked. “Well, I’m a little creaky in the knees these days, dear…” Darlene said as the door closed on them. But through the door it was still easy to hear her finish her sentence: “…So if you don’t mind?” “Sure,” Lucy said shortly—and a few moments later Parker could hear not one but two streams quite plainly, one rather louder than the other as it hit the porcelain of the bathtub, followed by a sigh from one of the two women. When both Lucy and Darlene emerged, Parker stepped for the bathroom himself. His bladder was full—not so full that he was really desperate, but plenty full enough to be glad of getting his turn at last. Meagan grabbed him by the arm, however, and followed him straight in. Mindful that whatever he said would be heard by anyone outside, he just gave her a very questioning look. She whispered in his ear, “For you, hon,” and gave him a kiss. Then she dropped her pants and panties and sat down on the toilet. She lowered her clothes all the way down to her ankles and opened her legs a little. She held out a hand to him, not letting a drop go. Since it was a fairly small bathroom, it only took him a step to be at her side. She undid his belt and the fly of his jeans, took his semi-hard penis in her fingers—gently, so as not to arouse him any more than he already was, and aimed it between her legs. “Whenever you’re ready,” she whispered. It took him a moment, but his bladder knew what to do. He started peeing, and as soon as he did, Meagan let go as well.
  12. Weasel

    Housemates: Moments

    A couple more "moments" to go, folks, then it's on to the next story (once that one's finished...) --------------------------------------------- Thursday, November 24th, 2005 4:58pm Thanksgiving Dinner The upside to having a house full of other people’s family: the family was cooking. Miranda’s family may not have been from the south, but they still knew what to do with collard greens and cornbread. And barbecue. And turkey. And homemade cranberry sauce. And sweet potatoes roasted almost to cream. And brie and crackers for an appetizer, with a dinner of fish following. And wine. And beer, though not at the same meal as the wine. And there was a rumor about apple cobbler after. But with the beer came questions… “So what comes next?” Miranda’s father asked. “Graduate school?” “Yeah,” Meagan said. “I’m mostly thinking setting up as a therapist…” “So, a master’s in clinical psych,” he said, musing aloud in a voice which made Parker think of James Earl Jones, “but probably not a PhD.—no need for that, at least right away, not for private practice.” Miranda’s father was a farmer—a farmer with rather a lot of life experience, including stints in both the army and academia. (“And well out of both,” he’d added.) “What school are you thinking of?” “Whichever will take me.” “Assume for the moment, Miss Meagan,” the gentleman farmer said “that you are getting an excellent college education, that you are a capable scholar, and that therefore you have more than one option. In that case—which?” “Whichever’s best—and has the best scholarship.” He chuckled—rumbled, really. “Very wise. Very wise.” He turned to Parker. “And you, sir! What are your plans?” “I’m not really sure,” Parker said, fighting down the panic attack. “I’m pretty into film production,” “Thinking to direct?” “Nah, I’m more of a tech guy.” “Ahhh. Cameraman? Editor? Gaffer? Best boy? All four?” “Something like that,” Parker said, grinning and shrugging helplessly. “I don’t really know.” “Well, you can always do what I did,” the big man said, “and try a little of everything. An approach I take in many aspects of my life,” he added, helping himself to more food… That was just the most pleasant of the questions. These ones were less so: Miranda’s younger sister: “How long have you been together?” Her little brother, a moment later: “Are you gonna get married?” And then: “Why don’t you know?” Travis’s mother: “Well, how about children?” And then: “Well, don’t wait too long!” Even the more innocuous ones could take a dangerous turn. Miranda’s mother: “Miss Meagan, do you cook?” “Not a lot,” Meagan admitted. “I leave that to Parker.” “Oh, so he can cook, can he? Well, I’d say you’d better hold onto him, then! But you’d better learn a little yourself, Miss Meagan, so you can hold onto him. That’s how I landed Caleb, after all.” “It was a little more than your cooking,” the man in question put in. “Oh, you came for something else, all right—but you stayed because of what I made you for breakfast.” “Ma, I don’t want to hear that!” Miranda protested, covering her ears. “Maybe not, but if I were you, Randy, I’d be taking notes.” By the time they finished the meal, Parker was definitely gloomy. Meagan pulled him down the hall for a moment. “What’s up?” she asked, softly.” “Questions,” he said. “So many questions.” “Yeah,” she said. “Right now asking me about the future is like saying, ‘Here, have a panic attack!’” He grinned ruefully. “Sounds about right. You and me both,” he added. Both together, yes? he thought in her direction, willing her to say something. She hugged him a long moment—and didn’t say anything.
  13. Weasel

    Sensual Jeans Wetting

    Just be sure she knows she's got some fans here!
  14. Weasel

    Sensual Jeans Wetting

    Gosh, is she ever cute. I just love those glasses... and her attitude. Cute enough that I'll save this one -- even though I'm not into wetting!
  15. I saw this earlier today, and my first thought was, "Oh, this'll shake up a few people over at omo.org..."