Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 ï>¿The Swim Team by Arkfisting

   The Swim Team Ch.  06

   Shocking revelations about his family rock Dad's world.

   I woke up in a bit of a state.  The room was quiet, my alarm was still
silent, and the lamp had not turned on like it usually did to wake me up.
Aside from my normal early morning wood, the guilt of groping Linda in her
sleep washed over my newly conscious mind but lost to the pleasant memory
of the fullness of her breast in my hand, resulting in even more turgidity.
I debated rubbing one off but decided against it.  I looked at the Echo. 
It was earlier than my alarm setting, so I still had a while before I
usually got up.  That rarely happened.  I wondered what woke me and decided
it had to be everything I had scheduled for the day.  I was planning on
going to Kelly's today, and I had an appointment with a couple of
businesses to try to get their support for the team's season.  I knew I
wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, so I got up to get my cup of coffee.
I put on my gym shorts and pushed my door open.  The house was still dark,
though the early morning light was just beginning to filter in through the
blinds.  Brenda's door was closed, which didn't surprise me, since she
usually didn't get up this early.  I strode down the hallway but stopped
short when I heard a gasp.

   I peeked around the corner into the living room.  Linda was still laying
on the couch where I left her last night.  Brenda had abandoned the
recliner, and I could only imagine she was in her room after all, since she
wasn't in the living room.  I only wondered why Linda was still there for
the most brief of seconds, since what she was doing drove any rational
thought from my brain.

   The nightshirt that had served to separate my hand from her breast last
night was now bunched up under her armpits, baring her C-cups topped with
large pink areola and thick nipples.  Years of fantasizing about them did
them no justice.  Her areola were at least two inches across in an almost
perfect circle, positioned at the peak swell of her breasts.  Right in the
middle of each ring, her nipples rose a full half-inch, reaching for the
sky, and making my mouth water.  Her arms pressed her breasts together
accentuating her cleavage as she reached between her thighs, her hands
stacked over her mound.  With the early morning light, shadows prevented me
from making out any details of the treasure beneath her hands as she worked
her fingers over her pussy.  Her breath was coming in ragged gasps
punctuated with groans as her hips churned on the couch.  Her breasts
jiggled with each undulation, making it difficult to decide where to look.

   My cock throbbed, fully tenting my shorts and crying for attention.  I
was about to reach down and take matters in hand when the silence was
broken by Fleetwood Mac blaring from the Echo on my nightstand.  My heart
jumped into my throat as a momentary panic set in.  It was 6:30.  Time to
get up.  I quickly ducked further into the shadows of the hallway, lest
Linda catch me watching her, and backed into my room, knowing that Brenda
would soon be getting up as well.  I had just pushed my door closed when I
heard Brenda's door open.

   I opened the door, hoping it didn't look too contrived, or that Brenda
would somehow know I had just closed it.  She jumped at my sudden
appearance.

   "Oh!  Daddy!  You scared me!"

   "Serves you right," I joked, "sneaking around at all hours."

   "Really, Daddy," she slapped my shoulder.  "You know I have to get ready
for school."

   "You guys are too loud," Linda's groggy voice drifted down the hall as
she appeared from the living room.  Shadows from her nipples made
highlighted points on her shirt.  "It's too early for loud."

   "You're up and at 'em kinda early, aren't you?"

   "Yeah, nah.  Not really.  I slept on the couch.  Brenda's scream woke
me." Nice little lie there, but not one worth mentioning.

   "You slept on the couch?  Why?"

   "Someone didn't wake me before going to bed," she looked pointedly at
Brenda, who rolled her eyes.

   "Well, you looked too comfortable.  Besides, I did try--twice, but you
didn't move.  I figured you'd get a good sleep there, and if you woke up
yourself, you'd take yourself to bed."

   "Did you sleep okay?  I knew it was a comfortable couch, but I never
slept the whole night on it.

   "Yeah, I guess.  So, who gets the shower first?"

   "I guess Daddy does, since he has to work.  Then me."

   "No," I held up my hand.  "You guys go ahead.  I'm in no hurry.  I'm
getting my coffee." I left them in the hallway to sort it out.  As I passed
the couch, I couldn't resist running my hand over the still warm cushions
and I thought I felt a damp spot, but it could have just been my
imagination.

   As my coffee brewed, I went over the list of things I needed to do. 
First and foremost was Kelly.  Then, on to the businesses John Metherd had
given me.

   I pulled up to the Mitchell's and sat in the car for a moment while I
tried to figure out how to broach the subject with Kelly.  My Granny's
warnings about meddling in other people's family affairs resounded in my
mind.  I hadn't had a serious talk with Kelly since right after Carrie's
funeral.  Oh, sure, we talked.  Mundane pleasantries when we'd run into
each other, or when we would call to check up on the girls, but no real
deep conversations one has with those with whom they are close.  It didn't
help that I hadn't told her I was coming.  I felt awkward just stopping by
unannounced.  My Granny had choice words about that, too.

   I was still sitting there thinking when I got a text message.  I flipped
out my phone.  It was from Kelly.

   "Are you gonna sit there all day?"

   I looked up at the house.  She was looking at me out the kitchen window.
I shrugged, pocketed the phone, and got out.  She stood there not moving as
I approached the house.  It was almost as if she'd been expecting me, and I
was late.  She didn't move away from the window until I was almost to the
door, which she opened before I could raise my hand to knock.

   "Hi, Barry." She was dressed in a simple blue jumper cinched at the
waist with a belt.  Her blond hair was pulled back and held with a
scrunchy, her red roots painted a wide valley along her part.  It was
clean, but there was no attempt to style it, and more than a few strands
were hanging out.  She wore no makeup, and her eyes, usually bright blue,
were almost gray.  They were also moist and puffy.

   "Kelly."

   "You spoke to Dennis?"

   "I have."

   "Come on in." She turned and walked away, leaving the door open.  That
must be a Mitchell-ism.  "Can I get you anything?  I don't have any
alcohol, but I have sodas or tea.  Maybe some coffee?"

   "No," I answered standing in the foyer not knowing where to go.  "I'm
good.  But if you want one, don't let me stop you."

   "Please," she gestured to the couch.  Like Dennis's, there was a blanket
wadded up on one side and a pillow.  A box of tissues was on the end table
near the pillow, and a wastebasket full next to the couch.  I walked around
the couch to the empty side and sat.  Kelly took the Queen Anne chair on
the opposite side of the coffee table.  "I want to thank you for taking
care of Linda during all of this." Her voice was quiet.  Subdued.  "Please
tell her it's not her fault a...and that I love her."

   "She knows that, Kelly."

   She managed a wan smile.  I looked around the room during the awkward
lapse in conversation.  I'd been here so many times with Carrie and Brenda
that it was still familiar despite my long absence.  Kelly kept it clean
and tidy, and there were some minor changes over the years.  Nic-naks I
didn't recognize, new pictures around the room, the Queen Anne chair was
new--at least new to me.

   "Kelly, will you tell me what happened?"

   "Dennis didn't tell you?" Her eyes flared with sudden anger.  "He didn't
mention he was having an affair?"

   I held up my hand.  "No, no.  He did admit that.  He was forthcoming
about his actions."

   "Then I don't know what you want from me.  I don't know any more about
his affair than you do."

   "I'm not talking about his affair.  This whole situation really isn't
about his affair." She started to argue, but I put up my hand.  "I know
what you're going to say, but if you think about it, his affair is actually
a symptom of the problem.  Isn't it?"

   She leveled a hard stare at me as her mouth drew up tight.  "He has you
blaming me now?  You believe him!  You think this is my fault, too!  Don't
you?"

   "Waitaminute!" Both my hands rose in the universal sign of surrender. 
"I never said anything of the kind.  I'm not blaming anyone, except maybe
myself."

   Kelly's mouth snapped shut.  She blinked.  "Yourself?  How could this
possibly be your fault?  You didn't encourage him to cheat..."

   "I haven't been here for my oldest friends when they needed me.  I was
so wrapped up in my grief when Carrie died that I didn't notice your
struggle." My throat began to tighten.  Even after six years, thinking of
that time made me well up.  "I know she was your best friend.  More like a
sister.  You were grieving and I wasn't there for you.  If that grief has
in any way led to the struggle between you and Dennis, then it is my
fault."

   Kelly sat in silence, back straight and her hands stacked in her lap, as
though she were sitting for a job interview, or an inquisition.  The
silence remained for several heartbeats and I was starting to get more
uncomfortable.  Was I wrong?

   "Barry," she began, then paused.  "You were in such a dark place when
Carrie died, and you had to take care of Brenda by yourself--and you've
done such a wonderful job with her--no one would ever blame you for being
focused on healing yourself and your daughter.  Besides, I had Dennis.  At
least I had him back then.

   "You're right.  Carrie was a sister to me, and it almost killed me when
she died.  I still miss her every day, and it's been six years.  But that
isn't why Dennis cheated."

   "He said you withdrew from him.  That you stopped talking to him or
being with him.  Those are signs of grieving."

   Kelly held my gaze for a long moment before finding something in the
corner to look at while her hands twisted the fabric of her skirt.  I could
tell she had something to say, but she couldn't figure out how to say it.

   Then it hit me like a baseball bat.  They were signs of grieving, but so
was retreating back to church, and she did that long before Carrie died. 
It was as though a veil had been lifted and I could see things in detail
that I never noticed before.  Maybe she wasn't grieving Carrie.  How could
I have missed this?

   After I proposed to Carrie, the four of us were riding a natural high.
Spring was heating into early summer.  The trees and flowers were in full
bloom.  Life was full of abundant promise.  I had graduated, Dennis and
Kelly were newlyweds expecting their first child, and Carrie and I were
engaged.  Big changes for young people.  We had big plans for the summer we
wanted to do before Kelly got too big to do anything.  Of course, partying
was curtailed--at least for her.  We stopped, too, at least when we were
all together.  It was the beginning of summer for three twenty-year-olds
and one old man of twenty-two.  Being college students, we didn't have much
money.  Carrie came from a distinctly middle-class family, and though she
was on scholarship, they didn't have much money for comforts or fun. 
Carrie didn't work while she was in school, so she could focus on her
studies.  Same for Kelly.  Dennis' family had money, so it was up to him
and me to fund whatever the four of us were going to do.

   We planned a hike before the summer heat cranked up.  It was supposed to
be a two-week jaunt along the Appalachian trail through South Carolina.  We
weren't ambitious enough to attempt the whole thing, but three or four days
seemed reasonable.  On the way to the mountains, everything changed.  Kelly
woke up that morning complaining of cramping that she said was like she was
getting her period.  Her doctor had told her that sometimes, one ovary
doesn't get the message about the pregnancy and may produce an egg on
cycle, but that was no big deal, so she figured she wouldn't let her
discomfort derail our trip.  Unfortunately, it was a big deal.  We were
cruising down the road enjoying the weather, Myself and Carrie in the front
seat and Dennis and Kelly in the back.  I forgot what we had been talking
about, but I heard Kelly make the oddest sound.

   "Uhhh...Barry!  Dude!" Dennis cried out suddenly.  "Pull over, quick! 
Something's wrong with Kelly!"

   Carrie turned around in her seat and gasped.  "Oh, My God!  Kelly! 
Kelly?  Are you okay?  Kelly?"

   I couldn't see anything, so I quickly pulled to the side of the road and
stopped.  When I turned around, Kelly had slumped over and was laying
across Dennis.  Her skin was ashen and her eyes unfocused.  He was patting
her cheeks and trying to talk to her.  I looked at Carrie as she held
Kelly's hand.

   "Barry, she's cold.  What's happening?  Is she dead?  Oh, God, Barry!"

   I looked back as Dennis began rocking her and noticed the smear of red
on the seat and on her thigh.  "She's bleeding!  Bad."

   "What?" Dennis cried out.  He looked at the seat and back at his wife.
"Oh, no!  The baby!" He looked at me and I had never before or since seen
such a desperate look of helplessness.  His whole world seemed to be
crashing in his arms and he didn't know what to do.  His eyes filled as he
rocked her.  "Barry, help me, please!"

   Fortunately, we hadn't yet made it to the wilderness and a hospital was
not too far down the road.  Dennis carried her into the Emergency Room, and
after one look at her, and the mess trailing them, the nurses rushed her
back.  Carrie and I waited in the waiting room for what seemed like hours
but was probably no more than fifteen or twenty minutes.  We sat in the
terribly uncomfortable hard plastic chairs, Carrie nestled under my arm, my
cheek resting on her head.

   "She really wants this baby."

   "I know."

   "They already have names picked out." She choked up.  "They didn't want
me to tell you, but they want to name him Barry if it's a boy." She broke
down into shoulder-heaving sobs.  All I could do was hold her and fight
back the tears threatening to pour out of me.

   "Barry," Dennis' trembling voice jerked my head around.  We both jumped
up as he shuffled into the waiting room.  The look on his face told us all
we needed to know.  I opened my arms and embraced my friend.  He sagged
into me as Carrie joined us.  "She lost the baby," he cried into my
shoulder.  "What are we gonna do?"

   "Is she alright?" Carrie spoke in a comforting whisper.

   "Uhm, yeah," he sniffled.  "I think so.  The docs are still with her. 
She's got an IV and they're giving her drugs.  She lost a lot of blood. 
They think she might need a transfusion, but she'll pull through."

   "Dennis, I'm so sorry.  Whatever you and Kelly need..."

   "You just let us know," Carrie finished my thought.

   "Thanks guys.  You're the best.  I don't know what I'd do without you."

   After Kelly was released, the trip was forgotten, and we went back to my
apartment.  I had planned on staying in my apartment while I looked for a
job.  I knew I was limiting my career options by staying in town, but I
wanted to be close to Carrie.  Kelly and Dennis found an apartment in my
same complex, and Dennis found a job in town for the summer.  Carrie moved
in with me.  Her parents weren't exactly happy about it, but they relaxed
knowing that we were engaged.  I also had the idea of building our home.  I
had even scoped out the plot of land.  I was keeping it secret, planning on
making it a surprise when Carrie graduated, and we could be married.

   To say Kelly was depressed would be a gross understatement.  Melancholy
followed her everywhere, entering a room like a fog.  We did our best to
try to lift her spirits, but nothing seemed to work.  Fortunately, the
doctors were confident that the miscarriage was not indicative of a serious
problem that would prevent her having kids later, but Kelly didn't want to
even talk about it.

   Dennis would tell me later that he tried to talk her into getting
pregnant again, but she broke down into hysterical crying at the thought
and wouldn't allow him to bring it up again.  It took months before the fog
would lift, and now, looking back, I realize the bubbly effervescent girl I
knew, and that Dennis married, never did return.

   Two years later, the three of them walked across the stage and received
their degrees.  We had planned that five months after that, Carrie and I
would be at an outdoor altar amid the autumn colors of October exchanging
vows.  Dennis to my left and Kelly to Carrie's right, and shortly after
that, we'd have the first of our three children.  That was the plan.  Of
course, it didn't work out exactly like that, but still, life marched on,
everything was good and proper--or so it seemed--and I was enjoying my
life. Perhaps too much, if I missed what was going on with Kelly, and
perhaps that blindness is what led to so many problems that would derail
those plans.

   "Does this have to do with your miscarriage?" I almost didn't ask the
question.  I certainly didn't want to.  We'd never mentioned the
miscarriage in the twelve years between it and Carrie's death, and I
certainly never brought it up after.  Even Dennis didn't talk about it when
I talked to him, so I felt kind of out on a limb.

   Kelly recoiled slightly.  "What?  No.  I..." Her face cycled through a
myriad of emotions, but instead of getting angry at my intrusion, her
shoulders simply sagged, and she looked at the floor.

   "Kelly, I know I have been kind of a stranger these past few years, and
I've always been wrapped in my own little bubble, but please tell me.  What
happened?"

   She sat still for a long moment.  I was about to prompt her again when
she sighed.  She looked back up at me, a decision made.  "You know what we
planned to name him, don't you?  Carrie told you?"

   "Yes.  She mentioned it.  I would have been honored to be his namesake."

   "That's what Dennis was thinking.  He really loved you guys, you know
that.  He never had a close friend before, and he was an only child, so you
were very important to him."

   "I felt the same way about him."

   "No, you didn't.  Not really.  No.  Don't look hurt.  I don't mean you
didn't like him, or that he wasn't important to you.  I know you loved him,
but how you felt about him doesn't come close to how he felt about you."

   I was confused.  Where was she going with this?

   "You know he tried to date Carrie in high school, right?"

   "She told me.  We used to tease him about it."

   "I remember.  He ran a lot of guys off who tried to date her.  Not
because he was jealous, but more that he felt if he wasn't good enough for
her, then the other guys weren't either.  But when he saw you two together,
and how much she loved you, he stepped back.  It was because she loved you
that he let himself like you."

   Her words hit me like a sledgehammer.  I've always considered Dennis a
close friend, but I never knew this.  "That's why you were going to name
your son after me?"

   She started to fidget with her hands.  She stopped looking me in the
eye. "No."

   Now I was confused.

   She took a few moments before taking a deep breath.  "That's why Dennis
agreed to it."

   "Agreed?"

   "It was my idea." Her voice grew shaky.  "I wanted to name him after
you."

   "Barry," Kelly said after several moments.  My gut tensed, like the
feeling you get when you know bad news--or a life-altering revelation--is
coming.  "You know Carrie loved you more than life itself, don't you?"

   "Of course." My heart thumped.  My throat dried.

   "Nothing could ever change that.  We were best friends since
kindergarten.  I know every boy she ever dated, every boy she ever liked.
We dated a lot in high school, she and I.  She never fell in love.  Until
she met you."

   Carrie had told me as much, so it was no surprise to hear Kelly say it.
But somehow, I got the feeling more was coming.

   "You rocked her world.  You were so much more mature than the other guys
she had been seeing, and that helped ground her.  Helped her see her
future. She really calmed down after she met you."

   "She did the same for me."

   Evidently, I wasn't following where she was going, and if I were being
honest, I wasn't.

   "Barry," she took a deep breath, "do you remember the Greek bash your
senior year?"

   "I do.  Well, most of it anyway.  That was when someone spiked the
drinks and we all passed out."

   "Right.  Well, if it weren't for you, she and I would probably have been
in that naked mess along with the cheerleaders."

   I felt as if I had been slapped.  "What?"

   "Carrie and I enjoyed sex back then.  A lot.  More than we should have."

   I know Carrie and I had really good sex, but I was certain that all the
sex we enjoyed came from each other...not from crowds at parties.  "What
are you saying?"

   "I lived a very sinful life, Barry.  Carrie and I indulged in all kinds
of sex in high school and in college.  That's the main reason she wouldn't
date Dennis.  He was like a brother to her.  One that she had no problems
being herself around.  She went through a lot of guys that first semester
Freshman year.  Until she met you.  Then she stopped."

   "Why are you telling me this?"

   "Because I didn't stop.  Even when you and Carrie were dating, I still
enjoyed partying too much.  Carrie never said anything to me about it,
other than 'one day you'll realize what you have with Dennis and you'll
settle down.' She never judged me."

   Kelly took a sip from a water glass that was sitting on the end table
next to the chair.  "Dennis, God love him, he was enjoying everything I
did. Both with him and without."

   "Wait.  Are you telling me you cheated on Dennis?"

   I thought I saw an ever-so-slight roll of her eyes.  "Oh, Barry.  It
isn't cheating if everyone knows about it.  At least, that was my thinking
back then.  Dennis liked watching me have sex with other people.  Men and
women."

   I thought my heart stopped.  I couldn't breathe.  The implications of
what she was saying was shorting out my brain.  If she had that attitude
about sex, did Carrie?  I didn't dare interrupt her, but I didn't know how
much more I could take.  Carrie had never once mentioned any of this to me
in all the years we were together.

   "I got off on having sex with different people.  I indulged that
passion. A lot.  And I wasn't careful when I did it."

   The realization began to creep up on me, and I thought I saw where she
was going with her confession.  I sat in silence for her to get there on
her own.

   "The baby I lost wasn't Dennis'." That sentence hung in the air like the
rapport of a gunshot.

   I let the statement linger for several heartbeats.  "Did he know?"

   "No.  He thought it was.  And, God forgive me, I let him think that."
She dabbed her eyes with a tissue she had wadded in her hand.

   "Does the father know?"

   Kelly's eyes searched my face as if trying answers on for size.  "It
didn't matter.  Dennis and I were going to get married.  I was going to
settle down into the same kind of life and happiness Carrie had with you.
But then, I lost the baby.  After that, telling the father never seemed...I
don't know...important."

   I sat in silence trying to digest everything Kelly told me.  Then I
remembered that time she and Dennis had sex in front of Carrie and me.  And
she mentioned the Greek bash...when I blacked out...and when I woke up,
Kelly was in my bed.  Kelly's red hair...I remember seeing red hair when I
was having sex with Carrie.

   The realization must have appeared on my face because Kelly looked at me
and nodded.  "That's why I wanted to name him after you, Barry.  You were
the father."

   I couldn't look Kelly in the eye.  I couldn't breathe.  I found it
difficult to think.  I got Kelly pregnant?  I was the father of her lost
baby?  I had sex with Kelly?  As those ideas swirled in my mind, memories
surfaced and formed connections like dominoes falling one after another.

   After that last Greek Bash party before my graduation, Carrie and I
dialed back the drinking and partying.  I was concerned about my blackout,
and Carrie, well, she seemed a little off.  She seemed quieter and more
reserved for a while.  Up until then, we had spent almost all of our free
time with Kelly and Dennis.  We had even repeated that incident of soft
swing sex, where Carrie and I would enjoy each other while Kelly and Dennis
did the same in the same room.  But after the party, that stopped.  In
fact, we didn't see them for more than a week after.  Maybe there was
something to what Dennis was saying.  I remember that Kelly announced she
was pregnant right before my graduation.  She and Dennis immediately went
to the justice of the peace to tie the knot.  They still had two more years
to go for their graduations, and having a baby was going to make finishing
school difficult.

   That was one of the things that happened that led to me taking the knee
to Carrie.  From almost the very moment I met her, I had planned on
proposing.  My thought was a long engagement while she finished her degree,
and then a big church wedding.  I would already be two years into my
career, so we'd have a leg up on settling down.  It was only a week after
Dennis and Kelly got married that I booked a limo to take Carrie back to
that bistro that was our first date.  I was so nervous and focused on
getting it right, I can't even remember if the place was crowded or not.  I
didn't want to mess this up.  This was the only time I was going to propose
marriage, so I wanted it perfect for Carrie.  When I dropped to one knee,
she began to hyperventilate and fan herself with her hands.  She said yes
before I even finished the question, and I was the happiest man in the
world.  I was in a delirium of joy for the rest of the week.

   That delirium wouldn't last.

   After Kelly lost the baby, things changed for her, but since she had
Dennis and I had Carrie, I didn't let it affect me, especially since I had
to find a job and a new place big enough for Carrie and I to start a
family. We had talked about having three kids back then, and my one bedroom
apartment wouldn't cut it.  I did remember that Carrie and I didn't see as
much of the Mitchells for a while that summer.  It wasn't as though they
fought or had some kind of falling out.  More like Carrie was choosing to
spend more time with just the two of us.  She doted on me that summer.  In
fact, she tried to fuck my cock off.  Every time we were alone together,
she would tease me, like she was trying to keep me interested with promises
of mind-blowing sex.  As if I could possibly lose any interest in her.  One
time, Dennis called and asked if we wanted to hang out just as Carrie was
blowing me.  She let me know in no uncertain terms that she was not
interested in anything other than what was in her mouth at the time.  I
almost dropped the phone when she shook her head with my cock halfway down
her throat.  I'm not sure how I declined Dennis' offer, but I probably
didn't make any sense; I couldn't think of anything other than dumping a
gallon of cum into Carrie's mouth.  Even still, the Mitchells came around
every few weeks and we would go out to dinner, or play cards, but it was
different.  I couldn't put my finger on why.  Once classes resumed in the
fall, however, things seemed to return to something closer to normal.

   Carrie had her classes, several of which she shared with Kelly, since
they held the same major.  In no time, they were clustering together over
notes, papers, and homework.  I would come home to see textbooks strewn
over the table and the two coeds buried in their articles.  Dennis took
over as captain of the football team until his senior year, when his grades
made him choose between sports or graduating.  He still played but dropped
on the roster since he couldn't spend the extra time practicing he needed
to stay on the 'A' squad.  Fortunately, he never lost his scholarship.  We
began socializing again, although with less alcohol.  Dennis did ask if we
wanted to go to the Greek Bash again that spring, and while I wasn't
particularly interested, I would have gone if Carrie wanted to. 
Fortunately, and somewhat surprisingly, she vehemently said no.  Kelly and
Dennis seemed somewhat disappointed, but they accepted it.

   We did go to a nightclub once.  I must admit that my life with Carrie
had forced me to develop my dancing skills, and I got pretty good at it, if
I do say so myself.  Dennis and I alternated dancing with both Carrie and
Kelly during the night.  At one point, a young girl tried to dance between
Carrie and me.  She was a pretty little thing: brunette with big hair and
bigger breasts that moved freely in her top as she gyrated to the strains
of Enrique Iglesias.  She kept her eyes focused on me, and I tried to keep
my eyes on anything other than her pendulous breasts.  Carrie was lost to
the beat at first, but she soon noticed the girl and stepped deliberately
between her and me, grabbed my head and planted a kiss on me.  I smiled and
shrugged as the girl danced away while Carrie glared at her.

   I doubt Carrie ever worried that I would stray.  I made sure she knew
how much I loved her, and we had made so many plans for our future that I
would never risk for any other woman.  But she did like to make sure every
woman we met knew I was hers and that they approached at their peril.  At
the same time, she never smothered me.  We were perfect.  At least I
thought we were.

   The next year went by as years tend to do.  I found an entry level
position at an Internet startup that offered a pretty nice benefit package,
even if it didn't have the big paycheck I'd envisioned when I decided on my
major.  That would eventually change, but I made enough to get us started,
and hopefully, by the time we were married, I would have earned enough of a
raise to be more comfortable.  I focused on work and helping Carrie with
her studies as much as I could.  We kind of fell into a comfortable
"married couple" routine, even though we hadn't officially tied the knot.

   Dennis and Kelly, on the other hand, as the actual married couple, still
partied like college students.  They would try to entice us to join them,
and once or twice we did, but for the most part, I was content to have the
parties behind us.  But parties are never far from college students.

   "Hey, Barry," Dennis approached me one afternoon in the Spring of his
senior year.  "Kelly and I were thinking of heading down to Destin for
Spring Break.  She's burned from her Poli-Sci class and needs to unwind." I
commiserated, since Carrie was also stressed about their Poli-Sci class. 
"We found a nice condo to rent for the week," he continued, "and if you
guys split it with us, it's cheaper than a hotel room."

   I'd heard about Florida spring breaks and girls gone wild and all the
parties and it didn't sound that appealing, but since he was my best friend
and Kelly was Carrie's, I felt obliged to run it by my better half.  I
figured she would decline the offer, given how little we partied of late,
but to my surprise, she agreed.

   "I do need a break," she said after thinking about it.  "And some fun in
the sun on a beach sounds wonderful!"

   So, just like that, we were heading for Destin.

   *****

   The beach was half-naked bodies as far as you could see in either
direction.  Bikini-clad girls cavorted with guys in trunks, played
volleyball, swam in the surf, or just lay around soaking up the sun.  It
was relatively easy for me to avoid leering, since I had the best-looking
girl on the beach at my side.  We had a ball, playing volleyball, body
surfing, burying each other in the sand, and just enjoying each other's
company in the beautiful Spring weather.  We made some new friends among
the other college students and joined them at a huge beach house when the
sun dipped below the waterline of the Gulf.

   The house was essentially one huge room from the front door to the back
French doors, which were propped open, and people were clustered both
inside the house and out on the deck, along the beach to the surf.  Most
were holding red cups or bottles, had glazed eyes, and swayed like the palm
trees in the ocean breeze.  More than one gave up trying to stand and
settled for reclining in the sand.  Loud music blared from speakers on the
deck and probably could be heard in Fort Lauderdale.

   I sat in a chaise on the deck, a beer in one hand--Yuengling, of
course--the other wrapped around my Carrie, who was lying alongside in the
chaise.  We watched cruise ships drifting out to sea as speed boats darted
back and forth along the beach line.  Dennis and Kelly had wandered off and
were likely drinking, dancing, fucking, or "all of the above".

   "This is nice," I said during a lull in the music.  "Just sitting here."

   "It is," Carrie agreed.  "It feels so good to not have to worry about
assignments or papers."

   "Well, you're almost done.  Pretty soon, no more essays or research."

   "Mmmm hmmm.  Can't wait!"

   "Of course, then you'll have reports or presentations or data meetings
to look forward to." I laughed.

   "Oh, stop it, Mr.  Spoilsport," she smiled and slapped my chest.  "Can't
you let me dream of being carefree for a minute without ruining it?"

   "Okay.  No more talk about the future."

   "Oh, it's okay to talk about the future.  Just not about work."

   "What part of the future do you want to talk about?"

   "Well," she drew the word out while her fingers drummed my chest.  "I
was thinking, we should start our family sooner, rather than later.  I want
to spread them out.  Like ten years apart.  So, I don't want our third one
when I'm old and dried up."

   "Ten years?"

   "Yeah!  That way, we'll have a live-in babysitter for the second and
third ones!" She laughed.  "And you probably thought I didn't think."

   "Okay.  So, ten years apart.  I don't know if we'll be able to do that,
but if that's what you want.  I think you'll probably change your mind
after a year or two and want another one right away."

   "Oh, no.  This is my plan.  And you know how I get about my plans."

   She did get quite anal about following her plan to the letter.  She
didn't make plans often, but when she did, she followed them come hell or
high water.

   "Besides," she continued, "Brenda won't want to share our attention."

   "Brenda?"

   "After my Aunt on my Dad's side." She pulled back to look at me. 
"What?"

   I willed my forehead to unwrinkle.  "Well, we haven't discussed names or
anything.  And it's not that I have anything against the name Brenda.  I
just thought we'd decide on our children's names together."

   "Oh, we will.  On the other two," she broke into a smile that went from
ear to ear.  "Seriously, if it's a problem we can talk about it.  But I did
make a promise..."

   "Well, how do you know our first baby will be a girl?  And besides, I
kind of thought you'd want to name our first girl Kelly...or something."
Her expression told me I couldn't be more wrong.

   "Oh, no!" She seemed to notice my confusion.  "Don't get me wrong.  I
love Kelly.  She's like a sister.  Hell, she's more of a sister than if I
had a real sister.  But no, I don't want to name our kids after either of
them.  It, uh, it would be too weird." She then lay her head on my chest,
indicating that the conversation was over.

   Her reaction seemed odd, but I didn't let it faze me then.  After all,
we wouldn't cross that bridge for a while, and most of the women I knew
could change their minds at the drop of a dime.  I was tempted to keep it
going, but a moan caught my ear, followed by Carrie patting my chest.

   "Hey, look over there," she pointed to the opposite side of the patio.

   I turned my head and watched a couple on the other chaise lounge, who
were in much the same position as Carrie and I, locked in a passionate
kiss. His hands were busy kneading her ass cheeks like a sculptor working
clay.  She groaned and arched her back, pressing her round cheeks into his
hands.  His finger dipped in between the cheeks, disappearing under the
gusset of her string bikini as she ground her mound into his pelvis while
she tried to tongue his tonsils.

   Neither was wearing much.  He had a pair of baggy swim trunks and she
was wearing a loose shirt and her thong.  When he pulled her shirt up, her
bare breasts were exposed for only a second before his hand grabbed one and
began kneading it like he had her ass.

   "She likes it rough," Carrie whispered, her hot breath searing my ear.
"Look at her go when he squeezes her boobs."

   Carrie was right.  The girl grabbed the guy's hand and squeezed it
harder, her tit-flesh bulging between his fingers.  She had dark hair,
olive skin, and round curves in all the right places, and evidently a
prototypical passion that made her look like a lioness feeding as she
kissed the guy beneath her.  Her breasts weren't large, just enough to fill
a palm, but her ass made up for any perceived shortcoming she may have had
in the chest.  Either way, her guy didn't seem to mind as he entertained
himself with her attributes.

   The girl's hand snaked down between the two of them and unfortunately
the way the light was, they were bathed in shadow.  We couldn't really see
what she was doing, but she lifted herself, then sighed as she settled back
down again, her hips twitching.

   "Why is it, every time I bring you to a party, people start having sex
in front of us?" I whispered between nibbles on Carrie's earlobe while we
watched.  She purred as she tilted her head, giving me access to her neck.
I traced the lines of her shoulder with my tongue, then peppered it with
kisses back to her ear, stopping occasionally for a light bite here and
there.  All the while, I was watching the other couple get more frenzied in
their coupling.  The girl sat up as she rode him, not bothering to hide
their actions anymore, though her shirt dropped back down covering her
chest.  He slipped his hands under her shirt and grabbed her bouncing
breasts.  The sounds of their sex filled the air with wet slaps and groans
as others gathered around for the show.  The girl began slamming her hips
on her down stroke, like she was trying to pile drive the chaise into the
concrete, grunting with each thrust.

   Her guy did his best to match her by lifting his hips to meet her stroke
for stroke.  It was an impressive feat of timing made even more so when he
began slapping her ass with his hand.  The flesh of her cheek rippled and
reddened with each smack.  The pain seemed to drive her to an even higher
level of excitement because she began screaming.

   "Yes!  Fuck me!  Harder.  Do it harder!  Augh!  Yes!  Yes!  Yes!"

   Carrie's breathing grew deeper as she began cradling her own breasts
with her arms and rubbing her thighs together.  She turned her head to face
me.  "Barry," she breathed, her lips caressing my cheek, "touch me. 
Please!"

   "Let's find somewhere a little more comfortable," I said as I pushed her
up.  She whimpered with need but moved with me as we both stood.  The other
couple didn't notice, nor did the audience that had formed to watch them,
although a couple immediately took our vacated chaise to begin their own
passion party.

   I led Carrie by the hand into the house.  The place Dennis and I rented
was just down the block, not too far to walk, and we might have just made a
beeline there led by my hard cock that was tenting my shorts, except that I
felt we needed to let Dennis and Kelly know we were leaving.  Inside was
not much different from outside, except it was much louder.  The stereo was
at full blast so that those outside could hear, which meant it was louder
than a concert hall inside.  The other people there didn't seem to mind,
since no one was talking.  Whereas the action outside was limited, inside
there seemed to be the beginnings of an orgy that would make Greek Bash
seem tame.

   In the living room, anywhere that reclined was occupied by more than two
people locked in some kind of sexual coupling.  One girl was laying on the
floor while a guy pounded her, and a girl straddled her face.  On the couch
was a five-girl daisy chain, ending with a large guy making short strokes
into the girl bent over the arm.

   "Come on," I said, pulling her into the next room.  What awaited us
there was more erotic than the room we left.  The people in this room were
engaged in the same activity as the last, but the star of this show was
Kelly, who was riding Dennis like a bucking bronco.  What was more
surprising was that two other guys were standing right next to them jacking
off.  Kelly had a look in her eye that I had seen before, in both her and
Carrie's eyes.  That look of wanton lust where anything goes.  I worried
about her.  I worried about Dennis.  But in the end, they were adults and
they seemed to be enjoying themselves.  There was no way Dennis wasn't
aware of two naked guys so close to him and Kelly.

   I turned to face Carrie, who was watching her friends with that same
look in her eye that Kelly had.  Her nipples threatened to rip out of her
shirt when she took a breath, and one finger was tracing her parted lips,
spreading moisture around and making her nail polish glimmer.  It took
every bit of strength I had not to push her down right next to Kelly and
ravish her.  As much as I got off watching, the thought of strangers
watching Carrie and me wasn't appealing.  I tugged her toward the door and
our house.

   *****

   The next morning, Carrie and I lay tangled in a naked heap in the damp
sheets, our shared cum drying on us under the breeze from the whirling
ceiling fan.  The patio door slammed open and a naked Kelly and Dennis
stumbled in.  Kelly's red hair was wet and plastered down, clinging around
the swell of her left breast.  Her nipples were still dark and erect, and
surrounded by bite marks and hickeys.  The remnants of her makeup ran in
washed out streaks down her cheeks.  Dennis was also damp, water still
dripping from his flaccid penis.

   "Shh" he admonished his wife.  "They may be asleep." His words were
slurred, and he almost collided with Kelly when she stopped in front of our
door.

   "Doesn't look like it," Kelly said as she stumbled into our room.  "Hey
guys!  Where'd you go last night?"

   "Yeah," Dennis added.  "You missed the big blowout!"

   Neither Carrie or I bothered to try to cover ourselves, since Kelly and
Dennis were already naked.  That and the sheets were still cold and damp.

   "Why are you wet?" I asked, ignoring the conversation starter.

   "Oh, we washed off in the surf on the way here," Kelly said with a
shrug.

   "Yeah," Dennis added.  "We were kinda messy," he said with a smile. 
Kelly elbowed his ribs with a playful chuckle.

   "Where are your clothes?" I pushed myself up to a sitting position,
immediately missing Carrie's heat next to me in the early morning air.

   "Damn!" Dennis slapped his forehead.  "I knew we forgot something,"
which elicited a gaggle of giggles from the both of them.  "Seriously,
though," he said when he could talk again, "you should have stayed.  That
party put the Greek Bash to shame."

   "We noticed," Carrie said as she sat up next to me.  She smiled, but the
exhaustion from our activities was written on her face with half-closed
eyes.

   "Dude," I said with a yawn, "we haven't slept yet, so if you'll excuse
us..."

   "Party pooper," Kelly pouted.  She reached out to hold onto Dennis'
shoulder as she swayed on her feet.  "I'm still stoked."

   "Still?"

   "You wouldn't believe what happened," she began.  Her words ran together
and dripped out of her mouth like they were covered in oil.

   "Yes, we would," Carrie interjected.  "We saw the start of it."

   "God, it was so intense," she continued as though she hadn't heard. 
"Dennis was such an animal."

   "Well, I just tried to keep up with you," he said.  "And that ain't
easy."

   "...but we're both tired," I tried to steer the conversation back to
sleeping.  "And you must be too.  Give us a couple of hours and then you
can tell us all about it."

   "All right.  Fine.  Be that way.  But I'm not ready to sleep yet.  Or at
least, I'm not ready to let you sleep yet, Tiger," she grabbed Dennis's
limp cock and tugged it.

   "See you in a little while," I offered as they headed toward their room.
"If you're still alive that is."

   Carrie and I fell back onto the pillows, being careful to avoid the wet
spots on the bed, and nestled into a nice snuggle.  "Wow.  I've never seen
her like that," I said.

   Carrie was silent for a breath, then grunted.  "I have.  She'll be okay
though.  Dennis will take care of her."

   Within moments, the sound of bed springs singing filled the house,
accompanied by the percussion of the headboard slapping the wall.  The
concert continued for a while, but fortunately did not keep me awake for
long.  Carrie's comment bounced around in my head a little.  Now, I know
she and Kelly had been friends forever, but I had known Kelly for three
years, and I had never seen that side of her before.  Carrie dismissed it
as though it was normal.  I guess if Carrie wasn't concerned, I shouldn't
be either.  My eyes were burning and I felt my strength leaving me, and I
surrendered to the darkness.

   I awoke feeling much better, if a bit sticky.  I slid out from under
Carrie, who was still in the same position we started in, and made my way
to the shower.  At the time, the situation didn't bother me.  Kelly and
Dennis were consenting adults.  If that was what they wanted from their
relationship, who was I to judge?  Besides, I had my own issues to deal
with.  My job was not going the way I had planned, and there were talks of
layoffs on the horizon.  I hadn't told Carrie about it since she was still
completely consumed by her final projects.  This was another reason I
agreed to come to Destin.  I needed to get away for a bit, if nothing else,
to use my vacation time before I lost it.

   My thoughts were interrupted when the shower curtain pulled back and an
alluring brunette slid in behind me, stealing the warm water.

   "Hey, you," I said as I wrapped my arms around her.

   "Hey, back," Carrie answered, lifting her face for a kiss.  It was a
quick peck.  I wanted more, but she pulled back.  "I need to brush my
teeth," she said by way of explanation.  "So do you."

   We showered in silence, enjoying the sensation of each other's hands
lathering our bodies, spending more time and attention on certain parts
more than others.  Even after all our time together, I still marveled at
the feeling of her breasts in my hand as my fingers slipped through the
sudsy lather, over her turgid nipples, and along the swell of her ass where
my fingers dipped between her cheeks.  I enjoyed kissing and nibbling the
slope of her neck as our hands wandered, and more than once, I was rewarded
with a sigh or a moan for my efforts.  I wasn't planning to have sex in the
shower, more just enjoy playing with her body as she was doing to mine.  My
half-hard erection kept sliding across the suds on her belly and she would
give it the occasional stroke before sliding her hands lower to fondle my
balls.  We played and washed each other for several minutes, until the
water temperature began to drop.

   We got out, dried and dressed and began our day at 12:30 in the
afternoon.  Dennis and Kelly were still in their room, so I stuck my head
in to find them still naked and sprawled on the mattress with the sheets in
a pile on the floor.  Dennis was on his back with his head at the foot of
the bed and Kelly lay across him perpendicular, her head almost hanging off
the side of the bed.  Her hickied breasts flattened as her arms were
outstretched.  She looked like she had been riding cowgirl and fell asleep
mid gallop.  They looked fucked out and were both taking turns trying to
snore the loudest in their sleep.  I pulled the door closed and left.

   For the rest of the week, while Carrie and I relaxed on the beach and
enjoyed each other, Kelly and Dennis seemed more content to party with the
younger crowd, often not coming back to the house at the end of the day. 
It seemed like we saw less of them during spring break than we usually did
at home.  By the end of the week, I felt rested, Carrie seemed rejuvenated,
but Dennis and Kelly looked like they needed a vacation.

   *****

   "Say something, Barry." Kelly's words snapped me out of my reverie.

   How was I supposed to respond to something like that?  This woman just
told me I fathered a child with her, and I didn't even know I had sex with
her.  I only had a vague memory of red hair when I was drunk, but I thought
I was with Carrie.  No, that's not right.  I was with Carrie.  I know that.
But Kelly was in bed with both of us the next morning.  Was that why Carrie
was so different the next morning?  Did she know?  Why wouldn't she tell
me? And if Kelly got pregnant, why didn't somebody tell me then?

   "Kelly," I paused trying to find words.  "I don't...I can't...how..."

   "We were all drunk after the Greek Bash.  We were all turned on.  You
and Carrie were being particularly loud, and it made me wet hearing you
guys going at it.  Dennis was out on his feet and I knew he wouldn't be up
for anything.  We went to your room, but Dennis passed out as soon as we
got there.  I just watched you guys for a while.  I was on fire watching
you two, but I needed to be touched.  I needed someone to satisfy my
craving for passion.  It was so wrong, Barry, what I did." She buried her
face in her hands as she choked back a sob.  "I knew that Carrie loved you
and you loved her.  I knew, deep down, that she wanted you for herself. 
But I knew her.  I knew that when Carrie got that excited, she would do
almost anything.  I started kissing her while you were with her, making
love to her.  She let me.  She started kissing me back.  For a while, it
was like it was before, when she and I could please each other.  Before we
had boyfriends or husbands.  She pleasured me and I her, and then you were
inside me and I was loving it, God help me.  I did.  Even though it was
wrong.  I didn't know how bad of a sin I was committing then.  But I would
learn.  I didn't realize that you didn't know it was me until the next
morning, when you freaked out.  I should have told you then, but I thought
since you didn't remember, we could all pretend it didn't happen."

   "Wait a minute.  Are you saying Carrie knew?" I barked the question out
harder than I intended.

   Kelly winced at my words.  "She did.  She wanted to tell you, but I made
her promise to keep it a secret.  I didn't want to come between you guys."
She lowered her head.  "And I didn't want Dennis to know."

   The world was beginning to tilt, and I had to remind myself to breathe.
I shook my head.  I couldn't get my mind around what I was hearing.

   "Barry, I got pregnant that night."

   My head threatened to explode.

   "I couldn't tell Dennis after that.  Once he found out I was pregnant,
he was too happy about becoming a father.  If I told him he wasn't, it
would have crushed him.  I couldn't do that to him.  I just couldn't. 
Don't you see?"

   "No, Kelly." My words almost exploded as I rose from the couch.  "I
don't see.  What I do see is that I've been trapped in a lie for more than
nineteen years.  One that my wife was part of.  Are there more lies?  Was
she always lying to me?"

   "No!" Kelly jumped up.  "Carrie loved you, Barry.  She never lied to
you. As far as I know she was always truthful with you.  She just kept this
secret for me.  She did it for me and Dennis."

   "No.  No.  This is not true.  I'm not hearing this.  I can't..." I made
my way to the door.  "I can't be here right now.  I have to go."

   "Barry wait," she yelled, but I was already halfway across the yard when
she came to the door.  "Barry, please, come back."

   Those words echoed in my mind as I raced away from the curb.  I didn't
even cast a look in the rear-view as I drove away.  I was supposed to meet
John Metherd at Felson's Hardware, but Kelly's revelation trumped my
ability to think about it.  All I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and
hide.  Preferably with a bottle of something stronger than beer.

   I almost diverted to a bar, even though it was still before noon, when
my phone chirped, reminding me of my meeting at Felson's, which had been
forced from my memory.  It was fortuitous that it did that, because it was
the impetus I needed to refocus on life now, instead of the past.  My
Brenda needed me to help keep the swim team going.  I couldn't let her
down. I drove downtown on autopilot, trying my best and failing to keep the
image of Kelly and Carrie from my head.  They had sex together.  In front
of me.  With me.  And I knew nothing?  How was that possible?

   *****

   "Thanks for your support, Mr.  Felson," I clasped the older man's rough
hand.  He'd agreed to a generous donation to a fund that would help defray
the cost of the admission fees for the tournaments.  It was a long way from
our goal, but it was better than nothing.

   "Think nothing of it.  My boy--also named Barry, by the way--was a
swimmer when he was a kid.  I know how important it is to support your
kids' dreams."

   "Well, we'll be back later to iron out the logistics," Metherd said as
we made our way to the door.  Felson's Hardware was a fixture on main
street in town, and was filled with aisles of traditional hardware, not
appliances, cabinets, and electronics like the big box hardware stores. 
There was even a galvanized steel lazy Susan by the door filled with
different sized nails you could buy by the pound.  I got the feeling Mr. 
Felson didn't have much money to spare, which made his donation even more
significant.

   "Nice man," I said when we reached our cars.

   "Salt of the Earth," Metherd said.  "Listen.  We've hit the ones I know
about and managed to get more money than I thought we would, but it doesn't
look like we're going to hit our target.  I hate to say it, but I think
we're going to have to cancel the season.  The first meet is next week, and
the registration fees have to be paid no later than today."

   "Well, surely we have enough for the fees for several meets."

   "Well, yes.  But there are the ancillary costs.  Transportation.  Food.
Insurance premiums.  I know you've volunteered your pool for training, but
for the meets we have to host, we need the natatorium, and we can't run it
right now.  We can cover one week, maybe two with what we have, but not
much more."

   "Brenda is working on raising more, and my friend Dennis," suddenly,
saying his name seemed almost alien, "said his firm will help sponsor the
team."

   Metherd's face screwed up as he mentally ran the numbers.  "I'd hate to
pay the fees, only to have to cancel the activity mid-season."

   "Trust me.  My daughter will reach her goal." He still didn't look
convinced.  "I'll write a check for any shortcoming."

   His eyebrows shot up.  "You realize that could be a significant number,
don't you?"

   "That's the beauty of it.  I won't have to.  We'll make our goal. 
Brenda has never let me down." Inside I was sweating.  It would be a
significant number.  One that might require going back to work if I had to
pay it.

   "Well, all right.  If you're sure.  I'll file the paperwork back at the
office." He got into his car.  "Oh, by the way," he reached into his coat
pocket, "Diane wanted me to give you this.  It's the address of that party
she mentioned the other day.  She reminded me to give it to you."

   I reached in and caught the card between my fingers, recalling the
meeting in the hallway at the district admin building.  Diane was a
beautiful woman, if a little young for me.  But who was I kidding?  I had
the hots for an eighteen-year-old.  A woman in her late twenties would
clearly be a more appropriate choice.  The address was written on the back
of her business card.  She had flowing, graceful penmanship, demonstrating
a woman who takes time to do things right.  She didn't rush through the
mundane.  Probably expects perfection, too.

   "Tomorrow night.  9 pm.  Don't be late.  She wouldn't like it if you
were late," he said as though it were a warning.  Odd.  John was a
director. According to Diane's card she was an executive assistant, yet he
seemed deferential to her.  Even back in the hallway, he treated her like
she was the boss.  Either way, I was not really thinking about
going--especially after the discussion I had with Kelly still weighing on
my mind.  I tipped the card at John, who backed his car out of the parking
lot and sped away.  As I settled into my vehicle, I still felt the weight
of Kelly's admission sitting in my stomach like bad sushi.  Now that I had
finished my meetings, I had nothing to take my mind off the idea that I got
Kelly pregnant and Carrie not only knew about it but didn't tell me.  Did
she think I knew?  If that was the case, did she think I thought I was
keeping it from her?  Man!  I felt a nail boring into my brain as I tried
to make sense of it.

   I drove home trying my best not to think about it.  Thank goodness for
Comedy Roundup on Sirius for the distraction.  It was still relatively
early when I got home, and the girls weren't due back from school for
another hour yet.  It may have just been my thoughts about Kelly, but as I
pulled into the garage, it felt like I was facing a board of inquiry, like
I had some huge punishment waiting for me inside.  When I walked in from
the garage, I noticed that something was out of place.  For years, when I
came home, the house had been immaculate.  Everything in its place.  Brenda
was normally quite fastidious about cleaning.  She usually did it after
school, but before I came home.  It took a moment for me to notice that
something was draped over the arm of the sofa.  Since I was home early, she
hadn't had the time to pick it up, whatever it was.

   I picked up the dress, a tiny red striped sun dress obviously way too
small to be Brenda's, so it must be Linda's.  Well, it's been a week now. I
might have to start treating Linda like a resident and not like a guest and
remind her to pick up after herself.  I carried the frock into Brenda's
room, intending on putting it with the rest of Linda's clothes.  It was the
first time in a long while since I actually entered my daughter's room. 
I'd stood in the doorway plenty of times to talk to her, but I tried to
respect her space because I remembered what it was like to have no privacy.
My short stint in the Army taught me that.

   Brenda's bed was made, which I was glad to see.  That was an expectation
I set early on and about which she thankfully never argued with me.  I had
no idea where Linda's clothes were kept.  I remember her showing up with a
suitcase Monday after she went home to get her things, but I didn't see it
in the room.  Maybe it was under the bed.  I dropped down and lifted the
bed skirt to get a look.  There, back far enough to only be a silhouette
was what looked like a suitcase.  I reached in and grabbed it, pulling
toward the edge of the bed.  As I pulled it out, a flap caught the edge of
the bed rail and flipped the unzipped lid open.

   What I saw sucked the air out of my lungs.

   It was not Linda's suitcase.  This was a small, soft-sided overnight
bag. I didn't recognize it.  I'd never seen it.  And I surely never
expected to see what was inside of it.  There was a collection of plastic,
silicone and metal devices of varying sizes and shapes.  There was a pair
of ping pong paddles and a tube of lotion.  A pair of small jewel clamshell
boxes rattled around as well.  I opened them, each containing a small red
jeweled heart pendant on a gold chain.  One looked like it had been worn,
but the other looked like it had never been out of the box.  What in the
Sam Hill was I looking at?  I pulled the suitcase farther out and inside
the mesh pocket of the lid was a long pink silicone tube folded in half.

   I dropped back onto my butt and stared into the case, the dress
forgotten.  I rested my arms on my knees and cradled my throbbing forehead
in my hands.  My brain refused to process what I was seeing.  It must be
Linda's.  Surely Brenda doesn't own something like this.  She would
never....would she?  She'd never hidden anything from me before.  We've
always had a relationship of open communication.  We even had "the" talk.
Shit.  What does this mean?

   I resisted the impulse to grab the suitcase and toss it in the garbage.
I didn't know whose it was.  It must be Linda's, and...well...she's
eighteen and a legal adult.  Crap.

   I looked at the case again.  I was just going to have to have that
conversation with Brenda.  I've been trying to for two weeks, but things
keep getting in the way.  Perhaps tonight's the night.  Just send Linda out
to the pool, or to the store on an errand so you can have some privacy and
talk to your daughter.  How the hell was I supposed to do this?



   The Swim Team Ch.  07

   Barry tries to talk to Brenda which leads to a new surprise.

   I heard the car pulling up to the house.  The girls were home from
school.  I tossed the dress in the case, flipped it closed and kicked it
back under the bed.  I would have to deal with this head on.  That was the
way to get things done.  Just suck it up, focus, and do it.  I strode out
into the living room just as the door burst open.  Linda and Brenda ran in
and almost barreled me down on the way to their room.

   "Daddy!" Brenda stopped just short of hitting me.  "What are you doing
here?"

   I heard noise coming from the back yard, turned, and spied several
teen-agers filing into the patio from the side gate.  I glanced back at my
daughter.  "I live here."

   "Oh.  Well, the team is over for swim practice.  Our first meet is next
week, and we need to get ready." She started to step around me.  "We need
to get our suits."

   Fuck.  That was today, wasn't it?  A pool full of teenagers practicing
for the upcoming meet.  It's always something.

   Brenda and Linda made a beeline for the bedroom, and the door closed
before my brain could engage my mouth to say anything.  Great.  The talk
will have to wait.  Again.  I stepped toward the front door to close it
when a sports car pulled up to our walkway.  The driveway was already full
of cars from the other swimmers.  I did a double take when the driver
exited the vehicle.

   Speedo Boy himself.  Mark Landry closed his car door, this time dressed
like a prep school big shot complete with a sweater draped over his
shoulders, carrying a leather athletic bag, and looking like a rich kid
heading into the gym.  I met him halfway up the walk.

   "Mr.  Landry, what can I do for you?"

   "I'm here for practice," he said as if it was common knowledge.  "We
have a swim meet next week.  I have to get ready."

   "From what I understand, you're no longer on the swim team."

   "I will be in time for the meet." The little prick oozed more confidence
than I could have mustered at his age.

   "Somehow I doubt that.  Not from what I've heard."

   "No, really.  It's all being arranged right now.  No biggie.  I'll be
back on the team by Monday.  So, if you'll get out of my way, I need to
practice with the team."

   "If you want to swim, Mr.  Landry," I thrust my hand in my pocket to
keep from punching the arrogant prig, "I suggest you get your dad to open
the natatorium for you.  There's no way you're so much as dipping one toe
into my pool." I stepped closer to him and brought my height to bear,
looking down into his arrogant eyes.  "I know what you did," I said through
clenched teeth, "and you're damn lucky you didn't pull that shit with my
daughter or they would never find your body."

   I swear I heard him swallow, though he was careful to keep his
expression neutral.  "I didn't do nothin'," he said as though he'd
rehearsed it.  "They have no case.  H-Hell, it's probably already been
dismissed."

   My ears rang as the pressure in my blood vessels increased.  The hand in
my pocket wanted so desperately to come out and play.  "Even if you win the
case, you and I both know you're guilty.  So does everyone else.  You're
done.  Either way, though, you're not welcome here."

   He squared his shoulders and I worried for a second that he might try to
force his way past me.  "Don't think I'm afraid of you, old man," he said
with as much bluster as he could.  His eyes said something entirely
different and I almost chuckled.  "Because I'm not."

   "I don't really care if you are or not," I said in a monotone.  "Just
know that I'm not afraid of you, either.  Now I suggest you leave before I
call the police to have you escorted off the property.  You're not worth
any more of my time."

   He stood there for a second before turning with a huff and stomping
toward his car.  He chucked his bag in the back seat and turned to face me.
"This isn't over, asshole.  You haven't heard the last of me.  I can make
your life miserable.  For you and your dyke daughter."

   He was squealing tires down the street before I could get to him to
throttle him.  Arrogant prick!  How dare he show up at my house as though
nothing was wrong?  And to insult Brenda...  My brain couldn't form a
sentence worthy of my anger.  This will not stand.

   I turned back to the house to see the curtain in Brenda's window drop
back into place, and I wondered how much of the exchange she heard.  As I
approached the front door, another car pulled up, and a young man of about
25 or so hopped out wearing a pair of athletic shorts and a shirt with the
school's logo on the breast.  He smiled in a genuine, but deferential way,
like a teacher placating an older parent, and flashed his impossibly white
teeth.  He was damn good looking.  So good looking that, if I were gay, I'd
go for him.  Adonis-like physique on a compact frame and chiseled features
under skin that has seen just the right amount of sun.  He raised his hand
as he approached me.  "Mr.  Brandford.  Good to see you again.  I want to
thank you for supporting the team this way."

   "No sweat, coach." I clasped Coach Thomas' hand with a quick pump. 
"Desperate times and all that."

   "Well, a lot of parents are in the same situation and they're not
stepping up like this."

   "They have their own problems, I'm sure." Kelly and Dennis popped into
my mind, which was unfortunate because Speedo-boy had managed to get my
mind off it for a moment.  "And it's no problem or hardship for me. 
Besides, most of the team swim here all the time anyway."

   "That's what I hear," coach said.  "Can I see this legendary pool?"

   "It's right this way." I gestured to the side gate.  "I think most of
the team is already in the pool anyway." I pushed the gate open.  The last
batch of kids through it had not secured it behind them, so I made a note
to remind them of the security rules here.  I couldn't have some stranger
wander into the pool and get hurt.  That would put the kibosh on the swim
team's season for sure.  "Say, what's up with the Landry situation?  He's
not back on the team, is he?"

   "Not if I have anything to say about it," coach said.  His eyes
narrowed. "That...young man," he gagged at the term as though eating soap,
"will not swim for me, I can assure you.  But his dad is working every
angle he can to get him reinstated.  The principal wants to--how did he
say--revisit the issue Monday.  Why do you ask?"

   "He showed up here to train."

   "He didn't!"

   "Did.  I ran him off, though.  Told him to get his dad to open the
natatorium if he really wanted to swim."

   Coach barked a laugh.  "I'd have loved to see that!"

   "He drove off literally seconds before you pulled up."

   "Better off without him around." We rounded the corner into the patio
where the kids were finishing hanging the lane ropes and placing starting
blocks.  I had the ropes, but no blocks, so they must have brought them
from the school.  Brenda does think of everything.  "Wow," coach said. 
"That is one nice pool!"

   "It was my wife's idea.  We finally built it when Brenda was a baby.  I
think we've gotten our money's worth out of it."

   "Olympic?"

   "Just.  If we wanted any bigger, you'd get your feet wet opening the
patio door.  As it is, we don't have much of a back yard."

   "You still have a nice patio and pool house.  This is a fantastic setup.
I'm so jealous!  I have to swim in my complex's community pool, and it
isn't half this size.  And it's full of kids all the time."

   "I remember being young." I smiled.  "Well, I'll leave you to your
charges, coach.  If you need anything, I'll be right inside."

   *****

   I went to my room to get into something more comfortable as the sounds
of the coach's whistle indicated training was beginning.  Thankfully, the
coach's arrival helped defuse my anger at Speedo Boy's gall.  I shucked my
shirt and had my undershirt halfway off and covering my head when I ran
into someone in the hallway.

   "Oh, Jeez!  I'm sorry," a familiar feminine voice said.

   I pulled my shirt the rest of the way off to see Linda in her Speedo
sitting sprawled on the floor.  "Linda!  I'm sorry." I knelt beside her. 
"I thought everyone was out by the pool.  Are you hurt?"

   "Only my pride." Her smile brightened the room.  "Why am I such a klutz
around you?"

   "Uhm, I'm contagious?" I laughed.  She laughed.  We caught each other's
eye and I felt my world narrow.

   I stood and offered her my hand, but I must have pulled her to her feet
too quickly, because she stumbled into my chest, her warm hands grasping my
abs.  "See?  I'm utterly unstable." I stepped back and her fingers traced
the lines of my muscles as her hands fell.  "Well, I'd better get out to
the pool or coach will have me doing extra laps."

   "Like that's punishment for you?"

   "Well..." She beamed before laying a finger across her lips.  "Don't
tell him." Her smile grew brighter as she backed toward the patio door. 
Her gaze dropped from mine, down my body before she turned around and
disappeared through the door.

   I watched her go, the blood leaving my brain and heading to other areas.
I had to shake myself loose from the trance she put me in before heading
into my room.  It felt good to get out of my business clothes.  It had only
been a week, but I found I like wearing comfortable clothes all day. 
Coaches whistle blew every few minutes as he ran the team through some kind
of drill.  I didn't watch, though the shrill sound carried through the
glass of the closed window as though I was standing poolside.  First, a
series of whistles, followed a series of splashes.

   The team was dedicated.  They clearly didn't want to let down the
school, the coach, or their parents.  They all had parents to cheer them on
and support them.  Sure, some may only have one, but still, those are
someone's kids.  And to think that I could have had another one...the
thought rose unbidden to my consciousness, no matter that I didn't want to
think about it.  Along with it came a wave of emotions that threatened to
inundate me.  Feelings I had forced down by keeping busy all morning now
had free reign.  Anger, betrayal, sadness, melancholy, frustration,
disappointment all warred in my mind and weighed down my heart, and all
centered on one person.  Carrie.

   All I wanted to do was curl up in a ball.  I felt my life fraying at the
edges and only one stray tug would unravel everything about which until
yesterday I was so certain.

   More whistles.

   More splashes.

   It wasn't the first time I questioned my life.  I thought back to the
time I almost lost Carrie.  It was before our wedding, shortly after we
left from our Destin spring break.  I don't remember what started it, but
Carrie and Kelly had a major disagreement and weren't speaking the whole
drive back.  Later that night, when I asked what the fight was about,
Carrie didn't want to answer.

   "It's...I thought...I..." she kept catching herself.  "I don't want to
talk about it."

   "But Carrie, I hate seeing you like this."

   "What?  I can't feel anger?  I'm forbidden to feel indignant when a
supposed friend..." she caught herself again.  "Don't tell me how to feel!"

   "I wasn't.  I was just..."

   "Just leave me alone, okay?" With that, she slammed the door to the
bathroom.  She didn't come out for more than an hour, and when she did, her
eyes were puffy and bloodshot.  "I'm going to mom's," she announced.  I
didn't see her or hear from her that evening, or the next day.  For the
next several days, she wouldn't answer the phone or come to the door.  Her
mom didn't say anything or offer any answers, but she took messages that
Carrie never returned.  I tried talking to Kelly, but she said Carrie was
shutting her out, too.  Carrie was cutting all of us out of her life.

   Carrie, Kelly, and Dennis' graduation ceremony was just a day away and
still no word from Carrie.  On top of that, my boss called me into his
office to let me know that because of corporate restructuring, my position
had been eliminated.  I saw it coming, but it was still the worst timing
ever.  I had already signed the contract on the property I had been looking
at.  With my future with Carrie in doubt and my financial future in
trouble, I panicked.  I enlisted in the Army Reserves.  I figured I would
earn enough money during training to keep myself afloat and maybe I could
make some job contacts once I was assigned to the local reserve station.

   I attended the graduation, if for no other reason than to support Kelly
and Dennis.  If Carrie didn't want me there, well, that was just too bad. I
watched her cross the stage, take her paper roll, shake the dean's hand and
exit.  That was all I saw of her that day.  She disappeared when the
procession was over.  Kelly, Dennis and I celebrated with dinner, although
it was a muted affair.  I told them about enlisting.

   "You did what?" They both shrieked in surprise.

   "I lost my job.  We're in a recession.  Besides, they have some
excellent benefits and I could get my master's degree paid for."

   "But you?  A soldier?"

   "What?  I'm fit."

   "Yeah, but could you kill someone?"

   "Dude it's not like we're at war or anything."

   Kelly changed the discussion.  "What about Carrie?"

   Bile rose in my throat.  "What about her?"

   "Did you ever talk about this with her?"

   "No.  She dumped me before I got laid off."

   "She didn't dump you." She said it so matter-of-factly, with such an air
of certainty that wondered if I heard her correctly.

   "What do you call it when you stop seeing someone, talking to them,
caring about them, and start avoiding them?" I couldn't control the flood
of anger that forced the bitter words from my mouth.  "If she didn't dump
me, she has a strange way of showing that she cares."

   "Barry," Dennis tried to interject.

   "No, Dennis.  You know what she's done.  She's done it to both of you,
too.  She's cut all of us out of her life." I took a deep breath before I
started cussing.

   Dennis thankfully changed the subject.  "When do you leave?"

   "Monday.  I have eight weeks at Fort McLellan in Alabama.  Then twelve
weeks skills training at Fort Gordon in Georgia."

   Kelly looked scared.  "Barry, you shouldn't be making serious decisions
like this right now.  You need to give Carrie some time.  She'll...calm
down.  She'll remember that you love her and she loves you.  She'll come
back."

   "I admire your faith.  But I have my own life to worry about.  I have no
job and bills to pay.  And the woman who should be standing beside me has
abandoned me."

   "Are you sure you didn't sign up just because you're in pain?"

   "Don't do that," I said through my teeth.  "Don't psychoanalyze me.  And
don't patronize me either.  It's just six months, anyway."

   "Plus two weeks every summer and a weekend a month..." Dennis chimed in.

   "Whatever.  I can handle it."

   And I did handle it.  For the training anyway.  After I graduated my
skills training course, I was assigned to my reserve unit, which just
happened to be going on its two-week exercise as soon as I arrived.  During
the exercise, I was injured when a Gama-Goat amphibious vehicle overturned
with me inside.  My leg was broken in several places requiring pins to set
the fragments.  The doctors said I might not have full function of that leg
again.  The Army couldn't get rid of me fast enough.  Fortunately, because
it was duty related, I got medically discharged with disability pay and
health insurance for life.

   When I returned home, my future was no more certain that it had been
when I left, and now I was a sporting a full-length leg cast and crutches.
I set about building my house.  I figured with my disability pay and the
money I set aside in training, I could at least begin construction on my
own house, and once I found a new job, I'd have plenty of money to finish
it.  I didn't need a wife to have a home.  I could make it my place.  Built
to fit me.  The good news is the doctors were wrong.  I did heal and I
didn't lose any motion in my leg.  Aside from a slight dent in my thigh, no
one would know I crushed it.

   It was more than a year after Carrie's graduation before I saw her
again. Dennis and Kelly came around to check on me often but not so much as
to get annoying, and to see the progress on the house.  We never talked
about Carrie.  I moved into the house just as soon as I had a roof on it
and worked on it alongside the builders to get it finished.  My cast was
gone and so was most of my limp.  I had found a job writing code for a
marketing firm and the pay was good.  I was on track to catch up to my
master plan, aside from the part about marrying the love of my life.

   It was an early summer's day when I left the banging and sawing at the
house to do my physical-therapy-mandated walk round the neighborhood.  I
did a brisk four-mile walk in just over an hour, and I hardly felt the pins
in my leg at all.  The sweat was running off my forehead and stinging my
eyes, and I thought I was seeing things when I saw a strange car in what
would become my driveway once it was finished.  I approached slowly, wiping
the dampness from my brow and trying to peer into the windows without
looking obvious.

   When the door opened, the air left my lungs.  She emerged from the small
car like a flower blooming; her skirt billowing around her still gorgeous
legs in the soft breeze.  It might have been my imagination, but I would
swear a bevy of doves followed her out and trumpets sounded.  She was
wearing sunglasses as I approached, and she removed them with one hand, her
eyes locked on mine.  God, she was beautiful.  The air grew thin, the
ground tilted, and I had to take gulping breaths to keep from passing out.

   "Barry!" She said when I had to brace my hands on my knees to keep from
falling over.  "Are you okay?"

   "Stop," I barked holding one hand up.  "Don't touch me.  Don't come near
me.  I can't..." It took every ounce of strength I had not to run and
embrace her, to sweep her up in my arms and spin her around.  But along
with the euphoria of seeing her, came the pain of not having seen her for
so long.  That was followed by a rush of memories that made my blood boil.

   "Barry, please..." She twisted her hands together as she rocked on her
feet--desperate to come to me but trying to respect my space.

   "Wait." I took a series of deep, cleansing breaths, blowing them out
slowly.  "I need water." I stepped toward the house and she turned to
follow.  "No.  You wait here.  Please.  I'll be back in a minute."

   I couldn't get inside fast enough.  In one second, all the anger and
hurt evaporated and all that remained was a shell of confusion.  I raced to
the fridge to get a bottle of water but veered over to the sink to spray my
face with the hose.  I rested on my left elbow over the sink as I sprayed
the cool water over my neck and head.

   Why was she here?

   What did this mean?

   Am I not over her?  I thought I was over her.  One look at her, however,
and my world crumbles.  I silently cursed my weakness--my mouth forming the
words as I put the dripping spray hose back in its place.

   "Barry..."

   My head whipped around, flinging drops of water and sweat all over the
counter.  She was standing in the doorway, the sunlight back-lighting her,
making her look like an angel.

   "Barry, I'm sorry." Her mouth tried to say more, but the words seemed to
fail her.

   I let her stand there and struggle for a few eternal moments, thankful
for the twenty feet between us.  If I engaged her, if I let her explain, it
would be like letting her off the hook.  I wasn't ready to do that.  I
remained silent.

   "I...I know there's nothing I can say that will make the past year go
away.  I have no excuse to offer.  I was wrong to walk away.  I know that
now."

   I was at war with myself.  One side wanted to rush and embrace her, the
other wanted to slam the door in her face.  Do I accept her, or do I reject
her?  One path would expose my heart again.  The other would leave it
eternally empty.  "What do you want from me?"

   "I don't want anything from you, Barry." She took a hesitant step
forward.  "I don't deserve anything.  I just..." her lip began to quiver.

   "Do you know what you did to me?"

   "I do.  And I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to hurt you."

   "Then why did you leave me?  Why did you cut me out of your life like
that?  No calls.  No letters.  Nothing."

   "I know.  I can't apologize enough, I know.  Just know you did nothing
to deserve that.  I was just..." she paused.

   "Just what?"

   "Afraid, Barry," she said louder than she intended.  She took a deep
breath before continuing in a softer voice.  "I was afraid I wasn't enough
for you."

   "What on Earth are you talking about?  Did I make you feel that you
weren't perfect in every way?  Did I do or say anything that you felt
diminished you?" I knew the answer.  I always worshiped her.  I made sure
that she knew how I felt at every turn.  But I know that perceptions can
diverge.  Some see one thing; some see something entirely different.

   "It's not that.  You were perfect.  I'm the flawed one.  I know that
now." She hadn't moved any closer, as though a barrier separated us.

   I stepped to the fridge and grabbed the water I came for and grabbed the
dishtowel off the hook to dry my face.  After chugging half the bottle, I
wiped my face again and walked past her to what was going to be the living
room.  Right now, it was just bare Sheetrock and exposed outlets with no
face plates.  I had a couple of folding chairs set up.  The kitchen was
finished, as was the master bedroom, but the other rooms were still at
various stages of completion.  I dropped the towel across the back of one
chair and sighed.  I turned to face her again.  Her eyes had not left me
the whole time.  I gestured to the other chair before dropping into mine.

   "It's, uh, it's coming along," she said after looking around.  She
folded her legs and eased into the rickety aluminum chair.

   "It is.  I figure it will be done by Christmas if I'm lucky and barring
the unexpected."

   "Why, uhm, I mean..."

   "Why am I building a house?  Well, I bought this property last year.  It
was supposed to be a surprise I was going to pop on you after graduation. I
couldn't bring myself to sell it, and, well, I figured I needed someplace
to call home."

   I'd only heard the term Gobsmacked before, but her expression must have
been a textbook example of it.  Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened.  She
looked around again, this time, her eyes welling.  Perhaps she was seeing
it as what might have been.  "You bought it for me?"

   "For us," I said, and waited a moment before adding, "but I'm building
it for me."

   Her voice choked in her throat, and she buried her face in her hands as
her shoulders heaved in sobs.  I couldn't decide if I should enjoy her pain
or feel bad for feeding it.  Either way, it took every bit of willpower not
to get up and hold and comfort her.  She continued to cry through my
indecision.  "I'm such a fool," she finally said between sniffles after the
sobs stopped.  "I'd better go."

   "Not so fast," I said.  "Not until you tell me why you came here in the
first place."

   "I should think you'd know." She sniffled.  "That it'd be obvious." She
sighed.  "I'm still in love with you."

   "How am I supposed to know that?" Anger flashed red before my eyes, and
a rage I didn't know was boiling erupted as I almost shouted.  "I haven't
seen you or heard from you in more than a year." I swallowed hard and took
several deep breaths.  Getting angry wouldn't accomplish anything.

   Carrie flinched.  "Why else would I come here?  I've spent the past year
trying to get the courage up to even face you.  It took this long.  I knew
you'd hate me, but I couldn't go another day without telling you how I
feel, and how stupid I've been." When I didn't respond, she continued. 
"Barry, I was wrestling with some insecurities for a while.  A lot of
insecurities.  When I saw how you looked at that party in Destin, it made
me feel like I couldn't give you what you wanted.  That I couldn't be what
you wanted.  That you wanted more like that.  Not like me." I still held my
tongue.  "Kelly and Dennis were so into that scene, and I thought you
wanted to be, too.  That maybe you wanted Kelly, since she was so free.  Or
one of those other girls."

   "Carrie, I never wanted anyone but you.  My days began and ended with
you." I took another deep breath.  "I haven't even dated since you left."

   She blinked in surprise.  Her mouth moved as though she was trying to
figure out what to say.  "God, I was so wrong," she finally said.  "And so
stupid." She dabbed the tears in her eyes.  "I'm such a fool to think you
could forgive me."

   I was touched by the sincerity of her reaction.  She was genuinely
hurting about what happened.  That more than anything allowed me to forgive
her.  We stared at each other through several silent moments before I got
up out of the chair.  My joints were stiffening up from cooling too fast
after my workout, and I groaned at the effort as I grabbed the leg that
threatened to buckle.

   "What's wrong?  Are you alright?"

   "Just my thigh where the pins were removed.  It doesn't like me to sit
still too long."

   "Pins?"

   She hadn't heard.  That surprised me.  I told her to sit down and I
filled her in on my short Army career, including the accident and my
discharge.  She seemed genuinely concerned.  "I heard you joined the Army,
but not about your accident.  Is that why you came back?"

   "No.  I joined the reserves.  I was always coming back." When I said
that, her face brightened.

   "You were?  Even though you could have gone anywhere?"

   "Well, I guess I've imprinted on this town.  It's home now." I had a
feeling I knew where she was going with her question, and she was probably
right.  There was only one reason to stay in this town, and she was
standing in the middle of my living room.  I knew it, and she knew it.

   "I understand that," she said.  "This town does have some really good
qualities.  I love the people." She gave me that radiant smile of hers
again.

   I'm sure some of my jock friends would say I was pussy whipped, or that
I let her off too easy, but I couldn't deny that I was still head over
heels in love with that woman.  It didn't take long before we were back
together, and not long after that before we reset a date for our wedding.

   *****

   Now, as I looked back on mine and Carrie's break, I had to wonder.  Was
it more because she wanted more than I was ready to give?  Was it because
she wanted to party with Kelly and those other girls, and she felt I would
judge her for it?  Kelly's revelation had me reevaluating my whole
relationship with Carrie.  I couldn't figure out how to reconcile the
conflicting ideas of the Carrie I remember, and the Carrie that Kelly told
me about.

   An echoing silence alerted me that the whistling and splashing had
stopped.  I looked out the window and several of the team were already
getting their belongings together.  I headed toward the living room and ran
into Brenda coming the other way.

   "Hey, Daddy!"

   "Hey, kiddo.  Listen, I need to talk to you when everyone leaves.  It's
important."

   "Is everything okay?  Did your plan for the money fall through?"

   "No.  That's not it.  I still have some work to do, but no.  It doesn't
have anything to do with that."

   "Oh, well, a lot of us were going over to Ivory's and see how she's
doing.  She hasn't been back to school all week."

   I was torn.  I was proud of my baby girl wanted to support a friend in
her time of need, but I also felt compelled to talk to her about what I
found in her room, as well as the other things that I had been putting off
all week.  But then again, maybe now wasn't the best time.  My mind was
still ajumble trying to make sense of what Kelly told me.  Perhaps giving
it a couple of days would be best.  I needed to be focused when I had this
talk with Brenda.

   "Oh, I see.  Well, how long will you be there?"

   "Well, I thought since it is Friday and all, I'd be there a while.  I'm
not really sure how long.  I guess it would depend on how she feels."

   "I get that.  But you need to be sensitive.  She may not be ready to
deal with company.  If she needs space, you come on home."

   "I know, Daddy.  I wouldn't stay where I'm not wanted."

   "Very well.  But no matter what, I want you in by 11."

   "Yes, Daddy.  Thank you." She reached up and kissed my cheek before
bouncing into her room.

   I turned to find Linda standing at the corner of the hallway and the
living room.  "Are you going to Ivory's, too?"

   "Yeah, but I probably won't stay long.  Ivory's more Brenda's friend
than mine."

   "I see.  Well, I want you back by 11, too, young lady.  You may not be
my daughter, but I am responsible for you while you're under my roof."

   She smiled as she copied Brenda and tiptoed to kiss my cheek.  "Yes,
'Daddy'."

   The moist warmth of her lips on my cheek left a lasting scorch that I
felt all over my body.  When she called me daddy, my nerves caught fire,
centered in my groin.  Watching her retreat to Brenda's room still clad in
her tight Speedo, her ample yet taut cheeks flexing with each step engorged
me.

   I turned toward the kitchen, trying to get my mind on anything except
women.  I needed to figure out dinner, since it looked like it was just
going to be me for the evening.  In short order, Brenda and Linda announced
they were leaving.  I gave Brenda some money to grab a bite for dinner and
settled in for a quiet solitary evening.  Just the thing I didn't need.

   As night fell, I found myself with a Taco Bell bag full of empty
wrappers and several Yeungling bottles as I streamed an old Kenny Rogers
movie.  It was the one where he takes care of six orphans while trying to
win car races.  Not the most sophisticated or thought-provoking movie, but
it kind of resonated.  One of the kids was a young Diane Lane, and it
brought Linda to mind.  Not that they look the same, but that they were
both young, hot, and needed a father figure.  What kind of father figure
was I when being near her gave me a woody?

   As the credits rolled, I got up to clean up my mess, and to retrieve
another beer, when I heard the door opening.  It was just 8 o'clock and I
didn't expect the girls back until 11.  I dropped my garbage in the can and
turned to face the foyer and saw Linda standing there.  My breath stopped
for a second as we stared at each other.  She was wearing a different
outfit than the one she left the house in.  She left in shorts and a polo
shirt, now she filled out a little mid-thigh summer dress with a plunging
neckline.  Her hair, which had been up in a ponytail earlier, flowed in
loose waves around her face and shoulders.  Her lips glistened and her eyes
smoldered.  I gulped.

   "Linda.  You're, uh, you're home early."

   She strode toward me, her hips rocking in a slow sway, and her breasts
jiggling with each step, unfettered in her tight dress.  "No," she said in
a low voice that ignited my blood--not at all the sound I was accustomed to
hearing from her.  "I'm right on time."

   Rational thought left my brain.  I could only watch as she closed the
gap between us, her eyes fixed on me, her lips curled in a small smile. 
She entered my personal space and just drawing a breath became difficult.
She laid her hands on my chest and slid them to my shoulders and my knees
almost buckled.  She looked up into my eyes and my heart melted.

   "I've been trying to get you alone all week," she breathed as her
fingers tickled the hairs on the back of my neck.  "I've been dropping
hints.  I've been cuddling up to you.  I've done everything but jump on
you." Her lip turned out into an exaggerated pout.  "But you never did
anything.  I thought you would finally take me last night on the couch, but
you stopped right when I had my first orgasm.  I was so disappointed.  I
played with myself all night thinking of you."

   My hand found her hips of their own volition.  Her waist was so small,
my fingertips almost touched.  I could feel the curve of her hips through
the thin fabric, soft and yielding flesh covering tight muscles underneath.
My fingertips rested just at the swell of her ass, yearning to slide down
to cup each cheek.  Her words throbbed in my head, and I couldn't think, I
couldn't move.

   "What's the matter?  Don't I excite you?  Don't you find me attractive?"
She pulled away from me and pirouetted, thrust her hip out as she flexed
her leg and slid her hands down her thigh.  "Don't you want me?"

   "God," I managed to croak.  I did.  I wanted her more than I wanted
anything right then.  I wanted to grab her, kiss her, taste her, touch her,
feel her, fill her.  I wanted to take her.  I wanted to make her mine.  The
urge swelled within me, threatening to overpower me.

   Her left hand began to slide back up her leg, her fingers catching the
hem of her dress and bringing it with them, revealing inch by inch of
tanned, toned thigh.  "Do you want to see more?"

   Yes!  No sound emerged from my open mouth.

   Her right hand traveled to her left shoulder, slipping the strap of the
dress over her shoulder, and coming to rest on the swell of her breast,
holding the fabric in place.  Her arms pressed her breasts together,
accentuating her cleavage, which swelled with every breath.  "Do you want
to touch me?"

   Yes!  My mind screamed in silence.

   She turned away from me and slipped the other strap off her right
shoulder and shimmed the dress into a gather at her hips, presenting her
flawless bare back.  She turned her head to look over her shoulder.  "Tell
me what you want.  Tell me what you want to do." She slowly turned to face
me; her arms positioned to hide her nipples from my hungry eyes.  "Tell me
how you feel."

   She stepped back toward me, each footfall dropping the dress lower on
her hips.  "What's the matter?  Cat got your tongue?" She smiled again. 
"I'm jealous." She stopped just short of touching me and tilted her head.
"Tell me you want me," she commanded, "or should I go?"

   Again, without conscious thought, my hands came up and grabbed her arms,
lifting her as my head came down.  Our lips crashed together, releasing an
explosion of heat and fire that consumed me.  I tasted her as my arms
enveloped her tiny body, and her legs rose and clamped around my waist.  My
heartbeat throbbed in every inch of my body as I surrendered to the passion
loosed by that kiss.  Her tongue played with mine, almost battling each
other between us.  Her hand grasped the back of my head, refusing to let me
break our union.

   My hands dropped lower to support her as we kissed, and my fingers slid
over her bare cheeks, grasping their fullness and feeling the heat from
between.  When they dipped further between, just enough to detect the
searing moisture within, she pulled back and looked in my eyes, a raging
fire burning within hers.  Her arms moved to keep her chest covered.  "I
need you to tell me.  I need to hear you say it."

   I leaned in to kiss her again, but she pulled back.

   "Tell me."

   My cock was thundering in my pants, echoing the rhythm of the blood
rushing through my veins.  "My God," I gasped.  "I need you."

   Her eyes lit up as her smile grew larger.  Her arms parted, allowing her
breasts to swing freely.  "Mmmmm," she stroked my face.  "I like to hear
that." She leaned in and licked my earlobe.  "Tell me more." She kissed my
neck.  "Tell me how you feel."

   I was still holding her off the floor, and despite her being so tiny,
the position was not the best one.  I carried her into the living room and
sat her on the back of the couch and tried to kiss her again.  Again, she
pulled back.  "Not until you tell me."

   Tell her what?  I struggled to understand the game she was playing.  I
could feel the heat from her pussy through my shorts as my hard cock
pressed against her.  I slid my hands down the back of her thighs and back
up to her ass, pushing the fabric of her dress up, revealing more tanned
flesh.  He pussy was bare and shining with her juices, the lips parting
over the bulge of my erection.

   "Don't tease me," she purred.  "Tell me." She reached down and pressed
her hand against my crotch, her fingers laying alongside my hard-on.  "I
can feel how bad you need it.  I need it, too.  Just tell me."

   "Linda," I said, "please..."

   "Yes," she said.  "Please what?  Come on.  I need you, too.  I'm all hot
and wet waiting for you.  Can't you feel my hot pussy leaking all over you?
It needs a hard cock inside.  Sliding in and out.  Making me tingle. 
Making me want to cum." She kept rubbing my crotch and I felt my balls
tighten.  I wouldn't last much longer.  "You can fuck me.  I want you to.
You've wanted to all summer.  So have I.  Just tell me."

   "I..."

   "Yes?" She pressed my cock.

   "I..." My balls ached.  I could feel my cum building

   "You what?" She nibbled my ear as her other hand grabbed my ass,
pressing me into her.

   "Ahhhh!  Fuck!" I heaved in an unexpected spasm.  My balls convulsed and
cum filled my shorts as I panted.  The spasms wracked me, and I fought to
catch my breath as the orgasm seemed to go on and on.  "Fuck," I sighed. 
"Fuck."

   I pulled my head back to look into Linda's eyes, expecting to see shock
or anger there, but instead, I saw sadness.  Her brown eyes were downcast,
and her lips were missing the usual curls at the corners.  "You can't say
it, can you?"

   What the hell was she talking about?

   "It's actually kind of sad.  It's been six years, Barry."

   Barry?  Since when does Linda call me by my given name?  As I opened my
mouth, I caught her eyes.  They were brown.  Linda has blue eyes. 
And...her hair...was brown.  What?  This is not Linda.  I blinked and Linda
wasn't there.  I was holding Carrie.

   "What the hell?" I almost fell over backward.

   Carrie/Linda put her feet on the floor and stood up.  "You have to let
yourself love again, Barry.  Six years is a long time to hold on to a
dream. Let me go."

   My Carrie.  Was here.  My heart hurt.  I reached out for her, but I
couldn't touch her.  "I can't...I miss you so much."

   "Barry, I'm not the woman you remember.  I never was.  There are things
about me you never knew.  I'm not worthy of your devotion.  Please, find
someone.  Let yourself love again."

   "Carrie!" I bolted upright to find myself all alone on the couch.  The
beer bottles and wrappers were still piled up on the TV tray.  I lay back,
breathing hard and trying to orient myself.  It was only 9 pm.  I was on my
couch.  Tear filled my eyes.  My heart was racing.  My shorts were damp.

   I tried to clear my head by taking a couple of deep cleansing breaths.
It was a dream.  Carrie was never here.  Linda was not trying to seduce me.
I was at the same time disappointed and relieved.  I couldn't try anything
with Linda, no matter how badly I wanted her.  She was just a kid. 
Brenda's best friend.  A best friend with a perfect body.  Perky tits that
were big for her petite frame, curvy ass and toned thighs...Stop it, Barry.
My shorts were going to get tight again if I let myself think like that.  I
shook my head as I stood up, the cold from the dampness in my shorts
driving me to change.

   After I changed my shorts and cleaned up the drying semen, I took the
trash out, dropping the bottles in the recycle bin with a clink.  I had to
wonder why I dreamed about Carrie like that.  I'd dreamed about her many
times, mostly reliving pleasant memories.  I'd revisited many vacations,
many occasions, and many liaisons.  In the six years since her death,
however, I never had a dream like this one.  It was like she was talking to
me from beyond the grave.  I shuddered.

   The slamming of the door made me look back at the foyer.  Linda stomped
in, still wearing the shorts and polo ensemble she left in, and marched to
the couch, where she spun around and dropped into the seat with her arms
crossed.  A scowl marred her beautiful face, and her eyes were red.

   "Linda?" I entered through the patio door.  "You're home early.  Is
everything okay?"

   Her head spun around at the intrusion.  "Oh!  Mr.  B.  I didn't see
you."

   "I'm very stealthy," I deadpanned.  "What's wrong?"

   "Nothing," she said barely audibly.  "It's nothing, really."

   "Why are you home so early?  Where's Brenda?"

   "Uhm, Brenda is still with the team.  They're trying to come up with a
fund-raising plan."

   "Why aren't you there, too?"

   "I..." she paused.  "I didn't..." she clearly was trying to figure out
the best way to say whatever she was trying to say.  "We had a difference
of opinion."

   "What's going on?"

   "It's nothing, really.  I guess.  I mean, if they all agree, then who am
I to say different?"

   "Linda?"

   "They can do what they want.  And so can I.  Really.  I'm okay.  I don't
want to talk about it.  I'll just get mad again."

   I was awash in confusion.  "Linda, sweetie, I have no idea what you're
talking about.  I can't help if I don't know."

   She looked at me, her big blue irises dancing back and forth.  Whatever
was troubling her was right there.  On the edge of her mind.  She wanted to
tell me; I could see that.  Something was stopping her.  I decided to go
for broke and hope it didn't backfire on me.  "Linda, I know that something
is going on between you and Brenda.  Did you two have a fight or
something?"

   She stared at me in silence for a few moments more before diverting her
eyes.  "It's not like that, Mr.  B.  I mean, yeah, we disagree on
somethings.  But it's not like a fight fight."

   I slid onto the cushion next to her and tried to catch her eyes again.
"What's the disagreement?"

   She clearly didn't feel comfortable talking about it, if her body
language was any indication.  Her arms were crossed in front of her and her
legs were crossed at the knee, the right foot bouncing in the air, and she
looked anywhere else but at me.  "Linda?  You can tell me anything, you
know that, right." I couldn't imagine what had her so unwilling to talk. 
It's not like she could have had some deep dark secret about my daughter
that I didn't know about.  I knew Brenda didn't do drugs, or drink.  She
and I had many conversations about abuse, and she hated the idea of doing
drugs and couldn't stand the taste of alcohol.  She wouldn't even take a
sip of my Yeungling, and that is the best lager in the country.  And I know
Brenda doesn't have a boyfriend that would come between them.  I couldn't
imagine what else would worry Linda so much that she didn't feel she could
tell me.  "I'm serious.  Whatever you tell me will stay right here. 
Between us."

   When she still didn't say anything, I pressed on.  "Does it have to do
with the other girls on the team?"

   Linda's eyes flashed, letting me know I was in the ballpark.  "Or is it
a guy?"

   That was a swing and a miss, as her face relaxed.  "Don't worry, Mr.  B.
We'll work it out.  We always do."

   I sighed in resignation.  "If you're sure, then I'll respect your
privacy.  But please, if you need to talk, I'm right here." I slid my arm
around her, and she nestled into me, resting her head on my shoulder. 
"Now, you know what's coming up on Tuesday, right?"

   "Yep.  She's been asking me if I know if you're planning anything
special.  Like a party or something."

   "Well, I wanted to see if you know if she wants anything special.  Does
she want a big party with all her friends?  Or would she prefer something
just the three of us?"

   "Well, that's the thing.  I don't think she knows.  She talks about
another pool party like mine, but I think she's kinda over that.  Besides,
I don't know if having the team over is the best idea, considering."

   Mark Landry popped into my mind.  "You mean what happened last time?"

   I couldn't see her face, but the hint of a shrug communicated more than
her words.  "Among other things."

   "So, the three of us it is, then."

   *****

   I woke up Saturday morning with a weight on my chest and a sense of
dread hanging over my head.  I couldn't explain why, but I felt like a
child waiting for his father to come home and punish him.  Out of habit, I
reached over to check my phone.  I keep it set to Do Not Disturb after 10
PM, so the only time it would go off is if Brenda tried to contact me. 
There were several messages from Kelly after I left her house yesterday.  I
had heard them come in, but I ignored them.  I was still dealing with her
revelations, and I sensed there were more coming that I didn't want to
hear. I needed to talk to her at some point, but not right now.  Not today.
Probably not this week.  Of course, I could keep procrastinating till the
cows came home and never talk to her.  That wouldn't help anything, though.
Especially since the whole reason I talked to her in the first place was to
help her, Dennis, and Linda.

   I recalled what Linda and I planned for Brenda's birthday on Tuesday. 
We spent the evening discussing options until Brenda walked in at 10:45,
and we had a good plan for the three of us to celebrate Brenda's big 18th
milestone.  My little girl was going to be officially an adult.  Carrie
would be so proud of the woman our daughter had grown into.  I had some
work to do to set things up between now and them.  And I still had some
work to do to lock in the fund-raising pledges I had gathered.

   All I had to do was shuck the malaise and dread that kept swirling
around me like a fog.  I needed coffee.  That would be a good start.  I
pulled on a Captain America shirt and slid into my slippers before padding
down the hallway.  I was surprised to see Linda on the couch again, wrapped
up in a blanket and her head on a bed pillow.  She didn't just doze off on
the couch last night.  She planned on sleeping there and brought a blanket
and pillow.

   I swallowed my curiosity and strode to the kitchen.  Whatever was going
on between them, they would have to resolve it themselves.  Neither of them
seemed keen on asking for my advice about it.  Besides, it may be nothing.
Perhaps Brenda snored.

   Knowing I needed something to kick start my day, I grabbed a packet of
hot chocolate and emptied it into my large Star Trek mug and placed it
under the Keurig spout.  With my Breakfast Blend pod brewing, I would get a
nice cup of instant Mocha.  I even pulled the whipped cream and chocolate
syrup out of the fridge to complete the experience.  The sweet blend did
relax me as I sat at the table.  Ordinarily I would plop in my recliner,
but I didn't want to wake Linda.  In fact, I didn't even want to look at
Linda.  Last night's dream still weighed on my mind.  It had to be my lust
projecting on Linda.  But why would I dream about Carrie at the end like
that?  It didn't make sense.  Nothing was making sense.

   I ruminated on the matter with no real epiphanies until Brenda came into
the room.  She looked tired with her tousled bed-head brown hair and bleary
eyes.

   "Hi, Daddy."

   "Hey sweetie.  Sleep okay?"

   "I guess so.  Still tired though."

   "So, what's up with that?" I gestured to the couch.  "Did you two have a
disagreement," I took a sip of coffee before finishing the sentence, "or
something?"

   "I don't know," she sighed.  "She's being weird lately."

   "How do you mean?"

   "I don't know.  I mean, she doesn't want to hang out with the team
anymore.  Every time I suggest we have them over to swim, she says she's
not in the mood.  And she wouldn't even stay with us last night at Ivory's.
She Ubered home."

   "Did you guys have a tiff?"

   Brenda didn't look at me, she was too focused on her fingernails.  "Not
really."

   "Not really...what?"

   "She's just..." she got up and put her cup under the Keurig as I waited
for her to finish her sentence.  "...not herself, I guess."

   The squeak of the couch killed the topic of discussion.  Linda
wordlessly got up and made her way toward the hallway as Brenda retook her
seat.  "Anyway, we have some ideas about raising the money for the season
fees.  Austin seems to think we'll make it easy."

   "Doing what?"

   "Oh, this and that." She shrugged.  "Bikini car washes, bake sales and
the like."

   I wasn't thrilled at the idea of my Brenda out there parading around in
a bikini for money, but she would be washing a car, and the rest of the
team would be there, so what the hell.  I didn't share hers or Austin's
optimistic estimate of the revenue potential of the venture, but they are
kids.  They would learn the hard lesson of financial reality.

   "In fact," she continued, "Austin and the others are setting up the
first one today, at the district parking lot.  "We're supposed to be over
there by 11."

   "Today?"

   "Well, I had mentioned it to Austin this past week.  She set it up with
the school."

   "I see.  You need to give me more lead time on things like this. 
Supposed I had plans that included you?"

   "I'm sorry, Daddy." She always called me Daddy when she wanted to get
her way.  "I didn't think you had any plans." I didn't.  "Is it okay if I
go?"

   It was, but something was nagging at me.  "Who's going to be there?"

   "Well, the whole team at some point.  We're working in shifts.  Tina,
Karen, Austin, and I are on the first shift.  Linda, Ivory, Sandi, Bethany,
and Angela are second shift."

   "No guys?"

   "Uhm," it was as though she hadn't even considered the idea.  "Well,
they're not scheduled...I mean no one wants to see a guy in a bikini," she
added with a smile, "but I'm sure they'll be there at some point."

   Now I remembered what was nagging me.  "Brenda, I've been wanting to
talk to you about something that's been on my mind lately."

   "Okay," she drew out the 'ay' sound as she looked at me warily.

   "I saw something at the party that concerns me.  Something that made me
wonder.  About you...  and your friends."

   Brenda's fingernail suddenly became more interesting to her as her
perfect pokerface appeared.  "If anyone had any alcohol, I didn't know
about it."

   "No, honey.  It's not that.  If they did, I didn't know about it
either." I smiled to try to relax her.  "What I saw was a bit
more...delicate." I took a breath as the words jumbled up in my mind.  "I
was walking around the pool house and I noticed your friends Bethany and
Tina with Tommy."

   She didn't flinch or blink.

   "They were, uh, engaged in a certain activity."

   Again, no reaction.

   "Brenda, they were having sex."

   Did I notice a slight flush in her cheeks?  Otherwise, she remained
expressionless.  "From what I gathered, it wasn't their first time doing
it." She still refused to react.  "I was just wondering if you know how
many others in your group are...active in this way."

   "I'm sure I wouldn't know, Daddy," she replied like she was at a
deposition.  "It's not really any of my business."

   "You're right, of course.  I just worry about the consequences...or more
to the point I worry if your friends worry about the consequences." I tried
to avoid sounding like my mom when she had this talk with me.  "There are a
lot of things that can happen when people have sex."

   She rolled her eyes.  "Daddy, I know about sex.  I don't..."

   "I know you do.  But do they?  Honey, they were doing things that I
didn't even know about until I was much older.  Besides, that isn't the
only concern.  Do they know how sex can change a relationship?  Do you?"

   Now she blinked.

   "Brenda, sex between strangers is one thing.  If there isn't a
relationship at risk, then there are no hurt feelings afterward.  Often
there aren't even any expectations.  But when people have a real
connection...a relationship...then sex means more than just physical
pleasure.  It always does, even if people say it doesn't.  It's never 'just
sex' between friends."

   She continued fiddling with her hands.  "What do you want from me, Dad?"

   "Only what I have always wanted for your baby.  I want you to be happy.
I want you to be fulfilled.  And I don't want you to get hurt." She looked
at me as though she expected me to say something that began with "But."
"Seriously, that's it.  I'm not going to tell you how to live your life. 
I'm not going to put restrictions on what you do.  You're an intelligent
young woman who knows her own mind.  I just worry about you, that's all.  A
beautiful young woman shouldn't jump into relationships willy-nilly, but
she shouldn't avoid them either."

   Her expression remained neutral, but in her eyes, I saw a fire sparking.
"You want to know if I'm having sex, don't you?  If I'm doing what Bethany,
or Karen, or Tina are doing?  Isn't that it?  You think I'm some kind of
slut, don't you?"

   Woah!  Where did that come from?  "No!  Not at all, Brenda.  I just want
to know...I mean, I don't.  I don't want...  I mean..." Panic threatened to
engulf me.  "Brenda, I wouldn't think that.  I couldn't.  Besides, you
spend all your time with your girlfriends." I realized that was the wrong
thing to say as soon as it left my mouth.

   "What?  You think I'm a lesbian, now?  Mark Landry calls me a Dyke and
you believe him!" Her voice climbed into shouting range.  "Linda heard him
yell it yesterday, outside.  I can't believe this!  My own father."

   "No!  It's not like that.  I never believed what he said.  Hell, it was
all I could do not to strangle that jack ass." I had to get this back under
control and fast.  This was not how I wanted this discussion to go.

   Brenda jumped up from the table.  "I can't believe you're accusing me
like this."

   "Sweetie, I'm not accusing you of anything.  I just want us to be able
to discuss this like adults..." Oops.

   "Oh, so now I'm not being adult." She paced the kitchen floor.  "You
think I'm still a child."

   "Brenda, stop!" I raised my voice.  I didn't want to.  I didn't plan on
it.  I sighed as she glared at me, daring me to say something else.  "That
is not what I said, nor what I meant.  Now, if you can calm down and
discuss this like an adult..."

   "Calm down?" Her voice could have rattled the windows.  "I can't even
with you right now," she waved her hand at me.  "I'm going to Ivory's to
get ready for the, uh, car wash." She spun on her heal and marched toward
her room.

   I debated forbidding her to leave, but the whole fiasco of a
conversation was my fault.  For some reason, I couldn't come up with
anything to say that didn't sound stupid.

   *****

   Brenda avoided me for the rest of the morning and Linda was content to
follow her lead.  The girls both disappeared well before 11, and I was left
to my own devices for the day.  I forced the whole Carrie issue from my
mind and focused on making contacts for fund raising, as well as reaching
out to some old business associates.  I got a lot of polite 'no's but I
managed to get some committed 'yes's, too.  It was a call to one client
though, that piqued my curiosity.

   "Barry!" It was Martin Epperson, head of procurement for a large tech
firm with offices in the area.  "Good to hear from you.  I understand
you've retired."

   "Yeah, I figured it was time to experience life while I was still young
enough to enjoy it."

   "It's interesting to hear you say that.  I got a call this week looking
for character references for you, like you were on a job hunt.  I thought
maybe you'd changed your mind after all."

   "No," I answered.  Someone was calling around for references for me? 
What was that about?  "I'm going to spend my time relaxing.  For the
foreseeable future anyway."

   "I hear ya, Bare.  Hell, I'd have thrown in the towel years ago if my
shrew could figure out a budget." He laughed too loud at his own joke. 
"Seriously, what can I do for you?  I doubt your trying to sell me on the
latest upgrade package."

   "No.  Not hocking for the company anymore.  This is more community need
than corporate."

   "Barry, you know I don't do handouts." Martin was always to the point.

   "I get that, Martin.  And I don't normally do things like this, but it's
for my daughter's swim team.  They've run into some legal issues that
threaten the funding for the season, and I need Brenda to have her senior
season so she can score her scholarships."

   "The swim team you say?"

   "Yeah.  The district was planning on canceling the season if they can't
get funding."

   "Well, I'm attending a, uh, a private event this evening that is
supposed to be raising money...I think for the district.  I wonder if it's
for that purpose.  Whatever.  Look, Barry, we've known each other long
enough to know you're not trying to hustle me for some pointless cause. 
Let me look at this other thing and if it isn't for the team, I'll divert
the funds to your team.  How does that sound?"

   "Martin, you're an ace.  Thanks.  I'll touch base with you Monday to
follow up."

   After some pleasantries, we ended the call, and I had to wonder what
other event he could have been talking about.  Just as I was about to look
at how to spend my evening, my phone went off again.  It was a text from
Metherd reminding me about the party.  I had forgotten.

   "9 p.m.  5112 Grandolph road.  Gate code is *****1232.  Semi-formal
attire.  Don't be late."

   I shrugged and dropped the phone on the table.  I didn't think I was up
to a party, and the thought of dealing with people was unappealing,
especially while I was dealing with an unusual attitude from my daughter,
and the situation with Kelly, Dennis, and Linda.

   Around 6 that evening, I got a text from Brenda asking if she and Linda
could stay over at Ivory's that night.  Actually, I don't think she was
really asking permission as much as telling me they were.  Whatever.  I was
still so upset by her reaction to our talk that I didn't mind not seeing
her.  So, while I didn't want to go to a party, I also didn't want two
nights in a row by myself.  I decided to freshen up my old suit.  I hadn't
had occasion to wear it in months, so it was in need of some TLC.

   9 o'clock arrived sooner than I expected.  I was just putting the car in
park in front of a pretty expansive mini mansion in one of the more
affluent neighborhoods when my phone went off again, killing the GPS map.
It was a number I didn't recognize, and I almost ignored it, but a voice in
the back of my head said answer it.

   "Hello?"

   "Mr.  Brandford?  This is Diane West."

   I paused to look at the phone display as if doing so would make a
difference.  "Well, hello, Diane.  How are you?"

   "I'm fine, and I'm, ah, wondering if you're coming to the party
tonight."

   "I'm walking up to the door as we speak."

   "Oh, goody!" She purred into the phone.  "I'll see you in a bit."

   As I hung up the phone, my curiosity piqued.  I had only met her for a
minute in passing.  Why was she so keen on my coming to the party?  When
the door opened before I had a chance to ring the bell, I was stopped
short. Diane stood there in a slinky black and purple dress that swirled
around her magnificent figure.  It was off one shoulder and had a clasp on
the other, like an old Roman toga.  It even had a gold brocade trim that
caught the light and accentuated her figure.  She took my breath away and I
struggled for a moment to find any words to say to her.  She saved me from
myself by offering her hand.

   "I'm so very glad you came this evening, Mr.  Brandford."

   "Thank you for inviting me.  And, please, call me Barry."

   "Barry." Her voice was smooth as butter and sweet as honey, and the look
in her eye as she said it made me hungry.  "The pleasure is all mine.  Come
inside.  We'll get a drink and get to know each other better.  The party is
just about to get started." She snaked her left arm through my right arm,
grasping my bicep and pressing it to her chest with one hand while the
other stroked it.  "You look very nice this evening.  I love this suit. 
The fabric is so soft, and it catches the light in beautiful colors."

   I'd had the suit for years and I never noticed it catching any light,
but I took the compliment just the same.  I was content to let her touch
whatever she wanted as long as she kept that body near me.  "You look
magnificent yourself.  That dress is awe inspiring."

   "Why, Barry," she grinned.  "Aren't you the silver-tongued devil.  You
have such a way with words."

   She whisked me into a great room that was probably bigger than my whole
house and ushered me around with the practiced ease of someone intimately
familiar with her surroundings.  Several people dressed to the nines--men
in suits, women in evening gowns--milled around or stood in small
cloisters. People I had to assume were waiters were running amid the groups
carrying drinks on trays.  I did notice there was a marked disparity in the
number of men to women, though.  It looked as though several of the male
guests either came stag or left their wives at home.  Everyone had a
cocktail in their hand.  No one was holding a bottle or a red solo cup, but
then again, I didn't figure in this neighborhood, solo cups sold all that
well.  We spent a several minutes giving each other the condensed versions
of our lives until Diane grabbed two drinks from a passing waiter and
handed me one.

   As I sipped, I spotted Metherd against the wall talking to a young blond
woman in a revealing yellow slip dress that was almost inappropriate, and a
bejeweled yellow choker.  I nodded to him when I caught his eye and he
gestured us over.

   "Jon," I shook his hand.  "Good to see you."

   "Barry.  I'm glad you made it." He turned and regarded Diane like a
vassal addressing a queen.  "Mist...," he cast his eye back at me.  "I
mean, Diane."

   Diane laughed a light, musical chuckle as her fingers tightened ever so
slightly on my arm.  "It's so good to see you, John.  I see you and Marie
are getting along." She didn't even look at the blond.

   "She was just telling me about her time at the university.  She's quite
the academic."

   "She's always been very bright," Diane agreed before pulling my arm
slightly.  "Well, you two have fun." She had me turned around and walking
away before I was aware we were moving.  One wall of the room was covered
in a large black curtain, and chairs were arranged as though the room was a
theater.  Some had taken several of the seats and were continuing their
conversations there.

   "What is all this?" I asked.

   "Oh, that's for the floor show.  It's set to begin in about thirty
minutes.  It's one of the warmups."

   "Warmups?"

   "Just setting the mood, dear.  I think you'll enjoy the evening.  These
parties do offer all kinds of fun, if you're up for it." She paused as if
deciding on what to say next.  "And have an open mind."

   "I'm not entirely sure I know what I've gotten myself in to."

   She turned to me and fixed her azure irises on me as her fingers found
the knot of my tie.  "Barry, you don't need to worry.  I won't let anything
bad happen to you." The corners of her full lips turned upwards as she
tugged the knot of my tie to straighten it.  "Your fun is my responsibility
tonight.  Trust me?"

   It was my turn to smile, though I'm not sure it looked any more
confident than I felt.  "Implicitly."

   "Good.  That's what I want to hear."

   We spent the next half-hour with Diane gliding us from group to group
and introducing me to several people, many of whom were prominent
businessmen in town.  I made a mental note to remember their names to reach
out about funding the team.  I met the alderman for our district.  I'd
voted for him, but never met him or communicated with the office.  I even
saw Martin Epperson ensconced in a conversation with a very young looking,
hot woman who was not his wife.  I made a mental note to forget I saw that
when we spoke Monday.  One stately looking fellow with a full head of
silver hair who towered over the room and looked me dead in the eye turned
out to be the local circuit court judge.  He told a funny story and Diane
touched his arm as she laughed.  He looked at me as we were about to
circulate.  "You take care of her properly tonight, young man." He smiled
at her again.  "She's a jewel to be treasured."

   "Diane!" we turned to see another older fellow approaching with his
wife. She was probably the oldest woman in the room, though she was looked
to only be my age.  She moved with a grace that commanded attention.  She
reminded me of an older Diane.  Just as beautiful and just as captivating.
Like the others, she was dressed in an evening gown that flowed over her
ample curves, cascading in rivulets that caught the light and drew the eye
to places otherwise considered inappropriate.

   "Cindy!" Diane and the other woman embraced.  "I'm so glad to see you. I
thought you weren't coming."

   "Well, that's precisely why I'm here, dear." They both laughed. 
"Seriously, Arthur was grumbling so much I felt I had to get us out of the
house."

   "Cindy, this is Barry Brandford." She turned to me.  "Barry, this is
Cindy Maxwell and her husband Arthur.  Cindy's Dean of Students at
Hallstead University, my alma mater."

   "My pleasure." I took her hand and turned it to kiss her knuckle.

   "Ooh!" she smiled.  "A proper gentleman." She nodded to Diane.  "You
better keep him close by tonight, Diane.  Otherwise he's going to be
snatched up quick."

   "I'm not letting him out of my sight." They shared another laugh. 
Arthur looked me up and down, nodding at me when he noticed me noticing him
looking.  "Arthur," Diane caught his attention.  "You need to meet Giselle.
She's an exchange student from Marseilles.  I think you'll find her
interesting." She turned to me.  "Arthur's a linguist.  He loves exotic
dialects."

   "Indeed?" Arthur spoke in a resonate baritone that could rattle windows
if he applied any volume.  "Is she here?"

   Diane pointed to a small, pale young woman with black hair and dressed
like all the others, but wearing red.  "Over by the piano."

   Cindy put her hand on his shoulder as though shoving him off.  "Go dear.
Have fun."

   "Well," Diane said as Arthur wound his way through the crowd that was
migrating to the chairs, "I have to begin the evening's festivities. 
Barry, could I talk to you for a minute?"

   Had we not been talking all along?  "Sure."

   She led me to a small seating area away from the curtain.  "These
parties are for people with discriminating tastes and appetites.  You will
see some things that some people might not appreciate.  I'm just giving you
fair warning so if you want to leave, now would be the time.  I hope you
won't.  In fact, I've been counting on it."

   "Well, now you have really piqued my curiosity."

   "Does nudity bother you?"

   "Not at all."

   "I didn't think so.  But I wanted to ask.  Also, are you open minded?"

   "I like to think so."

   "I figured that as well.  Good.  You're making me happy." She flashed
her smile and I thought I saw her blush.  "Stick with me.  Okay?"

   "Your wish is my command."

   "I was hoping you'd say that.  Come on." She led me to the area in front
of the curtain, pointed me to one of two seats right in front, and cleared
her throat, which had an immediate effect on the room.  People began
filling in the seats in pairs while single men stood in back.  Though I had
arrived single, it looked like I suddenly had a date, since I was sitting
up front.  "Thank you all for coming tonight.  Before I start things off, I
want to remind everyone that the donation barrel is by the door.  Carl, I'm
looking at you." Several people chuckled at one portly fellow who shook his
head.  "Please drop your donations in it before you leave tonight.  And, as
always, your donations are entirely confidential, but you will get the
required sanitized tax forms."

   Now I felt self-conscious, since I had no clue a donation was expected
at this party, and with the swim team, I couldn't afford another charity.
Panic threatened to consume me, and I resisted the urge to get up and make
my excuses.  Diane had made no request of me for money, and John had never
mentioned it.

   "Now, without further ado, let the show begin." She turned with a
flourish and waved her hand at the curtain, which parted on cue to reveal a
large platform being wheeled into place by two people decked out head to
toe in black spandex.  Even their faces were covered.  Soft music filled
the room from hidden speakers, as the pair spun the platform one complete
revolution before stopping it and slinking back into the shadows behind the
curtain.  Diane settled into the seat next to mine pulled my arm around her
and nestled in, resting her hand on my thigh.  She did it in such a way
that it never occurred to me that it was odd.  I had never in my life met a
more forward woman and it was at the same time flattering and
disconcerting. It was also comfortable and pleasant, as though it were the
most natural thing in the world to do.

   "Uhm, Diane," I leaned close to her and whispered, "I had no idea this
was a fundraiser..."

   "Oh, don't you worry about that," she patted my thigh and lit me up with
the brightest smile I'd seen in ages.  "I didn't invite you to get your
money.  Now, just relax and enjoy the show."

   Two different figures emerged on either side of the platform and
approached it with exaggerated high steps.  While the two in spandex were
dressed to remain anonymous and ambiguous, these two were the opposite and
easily recognizable as women.  Pastel silk drapes flowed over their bodies
and obscured the details of their otherwise nude figures while at the same
time highlighted them, until a step revealed a bare thigh or a bare arm
from between the layers of silk.  They were lithe and fluid in their
movements, almost dancing around the platform.  Breasts jiggled with each
step, and nipples hardened against the movement under the silk.  Their
figures were athletic; muscles flexed with the movements, and not one
dimple of cellulite could be seen.  Each wore a decorated mask one would
expect to see at Mardi Gras, and each had a white choker collar with a
single red heart-shaped jewel at the throat.

   They came together on the platform, continuing their dance on their
knees.  The platform dimpled slightly under their weight, indicating it
must be a large cushion or mattress.  When they pressed their hands
together palm to palm, and reached overhead until their chests touched, it
dawned on me what I was about to watch.  My collar tightened as my pulse
quickened and my cock twitched.  I don't know what I expected from this
party, but it wasn't a sex show.  Perhaps I thought I would meet some
people that could help with the swim team, or at least maybe enjoy the
company of a nice young woman after a few hours of drinking and banal
conversation.  I had to admit this was a better, if stranger and definitely
unexpected, option.

   The girls danced on the platform for a few more moments, their hands
only touching palm to palm, their breasts swaying under the silk.  My eyes
found their focus on the dancers' nipples, erect under the diaphanous
fabric, tic-tocking to the rhythm of the techno music.

   One girl pressed her hands forward, forcing the other dancer to lay
back, which presented her silk-covered breasts to the first girl's face. 
She pantomimed licking the protruding nipple with her mask.  Then, in time
with the beat of the music, they reversed positions and repeated the
action. When the beat changed, they changed again, only this time the first
girl removed the bottom of her mask, revealing a pouty little mouth with
bright red lipstick.  She did it so fluidly that I almost missed it.  I
only noticed it when her lips locked around the nipple of her partner and
suckled it into her mouth, the breast having emerged from its silken prison
during the movement.

   The music shifted to a more sedate rhythm as the girls began running
their hands over each other's body, sliding the scarves around and exposing
a little flesh here, a little there.  They wrapped each other in a tangle
of silk, where it was difficult to tell where one girl ended and the other
began.  All the while, they were caressing each other and kissing and
licking any flesh as it became exposed.

   While my attention was riveted on the tableau in front of me, Diane had
not been idle.  Her hand crept along my thigh from inside my knee toward my
hip, being careful to avoid my tenting erection.  The heat from her touch
burned through the fabric of my slacks.  It took most of my willpower not
to grab her hand and place it where I was certain it wanted to go.  I know
where I wanted it to go.  My willpower took aid from the fact that I had
never seen such a display as the one on the platform.  Sure, I had seen
sex. I had seen a lot of porn.  I had watched several orgies.  But none of
them were the form of art I was watching now.  I couldn't turn away.  If
the girls had been totally naked, the performance--no, the art--would have
suffered.

   The pair continued for several more moments.  The music never ended, nor
changed tempo as they moved.  I had no way of gauging the passage of time
aside from my heartbeat throbbing in my hard on.  Soon, a flash of silk
flew through the air as one girl flung the fabric high above her.  Another
followed, as soon, it was raining silk.  The scarves formed a pastel ring
around the platform as the two naked girls cuddled together kissing.  One
girl pulled away from the other long enough to reach over the back side of
the platform and reappear with a small bottle filled with red liquid.  She
popped open the cap and poured the oil all over her body, spreading it with
her other hand.

   I watched as her hands were joined by those of her partner and all four
hands touched everywhere on her shiny body.  In no time, every inch of
flesh was shining with oil.  The first girl's body, the lights highlighting
the glistening of her skin, was flawless proportioned.  Nice B-cup breasts
with pink nipples that jiggled as she moved flowed into a tight tummy, the
abs just discernible as they flexed.  Her ass was perfect; so perfect, it
seemed familiar.  I couldn't dwell on it as those cheeks parted over her
partners thigh and clenched as she ground her mound on her partner's leg
while kissing her.  There was so much oil between them, it pooled on the
platform and splashed as they moved.

   The two began kissing in earnest, battling tongues between their open
mouths as their slippery bodies gyrated against each other.  I'd seen girls
kiss before, but something about this took the experience to a whole new
level, and my cock responded, lurching in my trousers.

   "They are hot together, aren't they," Diane said as her hand gripped my
thigh.  "It looks like you think so, anyway."

   I looked down and her hand was still on my thigh resting next to my
tumescent bulge.  I looked up into a low simmering smolder in her eyes,
while her mouth was drawn up in a coy smile.  I decided that the situation
called for a more direct response than a subtle joke.  My dad once gave me
a bit of relationship advice.  He said there is no woman more significant
than the one you're with.  "They are indeed, but not as hot as you."

   She leaned even further into me, pressing her breasts together against
my chest.  "Good answer.  I like the way you think," she smiled.  "Feel
free to keep it up."

   On the platform, the girls had threaded their legs together and were
grinding their glistening pussies against each other as they played with
each other's breasts.  I heard a groan from behind me, and I couldn't help
but turn my head.  The couple behind me were busy shedding clothes as they
touched each other.  It took me a moment to recognize the woman was Cindy,
the university president, and her partner was not her husband Arthur, but
some young man I didn't recognize.

   Arthur was in an easy chair toward the back of the room with a
dark-skinned young girl sitting in his lap as he rubbed her naked breasts
from behind.  The other guests were all in various levels of coupling.  I
turned back to Diane.  Her eyes searched my face for a reaction.  I only
smiled.  "I wish I'd known what this party was going to be," I said.  "I
almost didn't come."

   "I'm glad you did." Diane leaned in for a gentle kiss, which I happily
supplied.  Her lips were warm and soft, with just the right amount of
moisture to move freely against mine, but not too wet.  After a breath, she
pulled back.  "It would've been a shame if you'd stayed home."

   I reluctantly turned back to the show, where the two girls had moved
into a sixty-nine, and Diane rested her head on my shoulder and pulled my
hand from her shoulder to her breast, where she held it against her blouse.
Ordinarily I would have been shocked.  I've never met a woman so sure of
herself, or so assertive, that she would grab the hand of a man she just
met and put it on her breast.  But something about Diane made it seem
completely acceptable, as though such a thing happened all the time.  Maybe
it was the fact that two women were having sex not five feet in front of
us.

   I enjoyed the heft of her breast in my palm as I watched the show.  The
girl on top had a narrow-lipped pussy and a little clit still hidden in her
folds, though the lips were being held open by the other girl's fingers. 
Her ass was tiny and tight, and her puckered hole winked as her partner
licked her pussy from the clit to the taint, pausing to insert the pointed
tongue as deeply as she could.  She slurped and licked everywhere her
tongue could reach.  Her fingers kept probing and playing with the vulva
between trips deep inside the hot, wet cauldron.  Juices dripped from the
open cleft into the bottom girl's mouth.

   "Wait to you see what's next," Diane said in my ear.  Her breath was
getting warmer every time she whispered to me.

   The bottom girl pushed two fingers from each hand deep into the wet
pussy above her and twisted them as she pulled them out.  She repeated this
move several times in time with the beat of the music, pulling the lips
harder each time, the shiny pink pussy flesh visible deep inside the gaping
hole.  She took her one hand and dipped it into a pool of oil that gathered
on the platform, coating her fingers, palm and the back of her hand, then
she repeated the process with the other.  She ran her hands all over the
top girl's ass and pussy, pausing to dip into the wide-open hole with one,
then two, then four fingers.

   Top girl was moaning her arousal as the music played on, building toward
a crescendo.  Bottom girl kept up her attack, pushing four fingers of one
hand in with a twist, then replacing them with the other hand.  Several
times, she slid the fingers from her right hand in alongside the fingers
from her left.  Top girl's pussy was hanging open.  Her thin pussy lips
were now swollen an angry red and dripping a combination of oil and juice.

   Bottom girl sucked top girl's clit and labia into her mouth, shaking her
head before pulling back, stretching the lips as far as they could go. 
When she released the lips, her right hand followed them back four-fingers
deep into her pussy, but she didn't stop there.  She tucked her thumb,
twisted her wrist and pushed the rest of her hand inside as well.  Top girl
cried out and began humping bottom girl's arm.

   "God!  Yes!" Top girl cried.  "More!  Deeper!  God, fill me up!"

   My mouth had gone dry, which clued me into the fact that I was sitting
there mouth agape, dumbfounded at the sight before me.  I tried to swallow
but had no spit.

   "Isn't that hot?" Diane's breath ignited my ear.

   I wanted to turn to face Diane, but I could no more turn away from the
sight of bottom girl's hand wrist-deep inside top girl than I could grow a
third arm.  Bottom girl's forearm was shiny with oil and girl cum as she
worked the pussy above her.

   "Have you ever seen anything like that?"

   "No," I replied without turning my head.  "Never.  I didn't know it
could even fit."

   Diane chuckled.  "You'd be surprised what can fit."

   I heard a gasp behind me, followed by a wail and I turned to see Cindy
with her legs spread wide and her lover's fingers deep inside her pussy
trying to mirror the action on the platform.  Now I was torn between
watching the younger girls continue their play or watching a very
attractive older woman enjoying the same thing.  After a few moments, I
turned back and noticed that Diane wasn't sitting beside me.  She was
standing between me and the platform, her dress puddled on the floor at her
feet.  My eyes traveled up her shapely legs to the flare of her hips, the
pinch of her waist, over her tight abs to the swell of her breasts,
following the curve of her neck to her smoky lust-filled eyes.  This was a
vision that I would expect to see on the big screen.  I couldn't see a flaw
anywhere.  With her hair, she could easily pass for a 40's film noir
glamour star.

   "I got tired of waiting on you to make a move," she said leaning in. 
"Sometimes, you need to take what you want in this world, Barry." She
leaned closer and pressed her full lips to mine.  If our last kiss was
memorable, this one was unforgettable.  She pushed me back against the
chair as she settled onto my lap, her naked body pressing into mine, never
breaking the contact with our lips.  In that moment, the girls on the
platform, Cindy behind me, hell, everyone else in the place faded into
nothingness.  The only thing was that kiss.  When she pulled back, I gulped
air, feeling like I had over-exerted myself.  "Now, that's more like it,"
she purred.  "You're a great kisser, Barry."

   "That was all you, Diane," I said.  "I've never had a kiss like that."
That was true.  Later, I'd feel bad about that realization and what it
meant for my memory of Carrie, but for now, I wanted more.  I needed more.
I went back for more.

   As we kissed, my concentration was on the sensations of her lips sliding
over mine, and the movement of her body in my lap.  I hardly felt my
clothes being loosened and removed.  The only way I knew it was happening
was when her hand touched my bare chest, and her kisses following her touch
as she settled between my legs.  I'd never been naked in a room full of
strangers before.  I never thought I'd have any reason to.  But any
thoughts of embarrassment were banished with one look of Diane's eyes as
she tugged my pants down to my ankles.  She cradled my balls as she blew
hot air over the head of my cock.  Her hands caressed my sack, rolling my
balls around her fingers.  A drop of precum surged from the slit on the
head and she caught it with her tongue, stretching it over an inch before
licking the head more directly.

   "Mmmmm," she moaned.  "You taste good.  I was hoping you would." Her
face dove down to my base, inhaling the entire length of my shaft on one
motion.  She never even paused.  One second, my cock was cool, the next it
was bathed in heat, and being squeezed by her throat muscles.  Her tongue
swabbed my sack while her throat massaged my shaft.  She was a master
artist at work and her instrument was my cock.  I savored the sensations of
her mouth while watching her head move over my crotch.  I'd never been
blown like this before.

   I glanced over to the platform and watched as top girl had evidently
produced a strap on and was behind bottom girl slamming her hips with as
much force as her small frame could muster.  Bottom girl was thrusting back
herself, driving as much of the plastic phallus into her as she could.  The
impacts of their coupling jostled her mask and several strands of blond
hair fell loose and began swinging in sync with the movements.  It
triggered something in me.  While the show had been quite hot, something
about it seemed artificial.  It was like I was watching a porn movie being
performed by professionals as opposed to an intimate act between lovers. 
Until now.

   Now bottom girl became a real person under her mask.  Not a porn star
any longer, she became a person enjoying a good fucking.  My reaction
expanded in Diane's mouth, which was not lost on her.  She groaned as she
backed off, rubbing her hand along my shaft.  "God, you're big.  Are you
getting bigger?"

   "I don't know, but I am about to cum if you keep that up."

   "Well, as delicious as that sounds, I have more plans for this fellow,"
she squeezed my cock, which took the edge off.  "Unless you can keep it up
after."

   "With you, anything's possible."

   "You say the nicest things." She smiled as she rose to her feet.  "Come
here," she said tugging my erection.  "Let's get you naked."

   After we ripped my clothes the rest of the way off, she led me to the
platform.  "Move over, Austin, my pretty," she commanded.  The girl I'd
been calling bottom girl looked up as Diane knelt on the platform.  Austin?
Did she just say Austin?  Bottom girl reached up and grabbed Diane's head
and pulled her down for a scorching kiss.  After a couple of heartbeats,
Diane pulled back.  "Scootch over, Pretty.  I have plans for this guy."

   Austin looked at me and smiled.  "Boy, are you gonna have fun."

   That voice.  I recognized it.  "Austin....Sommer?"

   Austin and Diane both blinked.  "Er...ahh..."

   "Bigboy76.  I'm a fan." Austin looked at me, then at Diane, then at me,
and a smile spread across her face.

   "Well, hello," she said, removing the mask entirely.  It was her.  No
doubt.  Just as pretty as her picture.  "Always nice to meet a fan."

   "Don't you mean a 'huge fan,'" Diane said with a smile, grabbing my
somewhat shrinking cock.  "Isn't this cozy," she said lying back on the oil
covered surface.  "Come here, Bigboy76, and show me what you can do."

   "Yes Ma'am.  As you wish." I crawled over her supine body as Austin
watched.  Top girl was still behind her, presumably her dildo still buried
in Austin's pussy.  The oil on the platform was warm, made the surface soft
and slippery, and coated both of us.  My cock slipped and slapped oily
flesh as I settled over her.  Diane pulled my face down for a searing kiss,
battling my tongue for dominance before biting my lower lip.  "Put that
magnificent tongue to good use."

   She pushed my head down her body as her thighs spread up and out.  Her
skin tasted like coconut as I kissed her flesh, at least the parts that
weren't covered in oil.  Her pussy spread open like a flower awaiting a bee
and exuded the scent of cherries as I drew near.  Her fleshy lips covered
her clit until I pulled the skin back.  Her nub was a little bigger than
most, but not abnormally large, and pulsed as I regarded it.  "Don't tease
me, Barry," She complained.  "Eat me."

   I complied.  No sooner had I lapped at her pussy than she started
humping my face.  "Ah!  Fuck yes!  Lick me.  Like that.  Yes!"

   I felt the platform move and looked up to see Austin scooting close
enough to reach Diane's chest.  The other girl had crawled under Austin
and, once Austin was settled, pulled her hips down on her face.  The strap
on was still in place on her hips, waving obscenely in the air.  I must
have gotten off target because Diane grabbed my head and jerked me back to
the task at hand.  I drew the meat of her clit and lips into my mouth and
played with them as I snaked a finger into her opening and tickled the pad
of flesh just inside.  I was rewarded with a flush of juice and a cry. 
"Aaaaah!  That's it!  God!"

   She rocked her hips as I feasted on her, slowly bringing her toward a
thrashing orgasm, grinding her pussy all over my face.  When she came down,
her hands fell away from my head.  I looked up, her juices still dripping
from my chin, and watched her languidly playing with her breasts with one
hand and pushing the hair out her face with the other.  Before I could say
anything, a hand shoved my shoulder.

   "Roll over," Austin said as I moved.  Once I was positioned on my back,
she knee-walked to my head.  "I want what she had."

   I was torn as I watched as my favorite cam girl swung her toned thigh
over my face, her pussy, framed with inflamed lips accentuated with a
short-cropped landing strip, barely two inches from my mouth.  I had
dreamed of being in this position more times than I could count.  I had
watched several dildos plumb her depths, several tongues tickle her clit,
and a few cocks fill her up.  Now it was my turn.  But I was just with
Diane.  Would it bother her if I shifted my attention to another woman? 
I'd never been with two women at the same time before.  It had never
crossed my mind, even as a fantasy.  My memory flew back to the first
college frat party I attended with Carrie so long ago.  There was no way I
was going to touch another woman with Carrie there.  I would have lost her.
I'm sure of it.  But, here and now, I didn't really have Diane, did I?  I
mean, it wasn't like we were on a date or anything.  Besides, she didn't
look upset at all.  In fact, her face was a mask of contentment layered
over passion as she watched Austin get into position.

   I slid my hands up Austin's firm thighs to her hips, then to her cleft.
Her pussy lips flushed pink as I opened them.  Her small clit pulsed at her
apex, which clued me in to avoid it.  Instead, I ran my tongue around the
wet flesh within, and tickled the sensitive part below her pussy.  I cupped
a tight muscular cheek in each hand, allowing my fingers to play between
them, teasing the flesh I wasn't licking.  My middle fingertips rimmed her
ass as I licked the rest.

   I heard a whimper, but then I felt a mouth descending on my cock.  I
assumed it was hers, since Diane was still lying beside us, looking at me
with a fire in her eyes, a fire that wasn't close to being extinguished
yet. This woman was just getting started.  "Doesn't she taste wonderful? 
She's my favorite." Diane sounded like a child showing off a favorite toy.
"She loves having her ass ticked," she said smiling.  "Don't you, Pretty?"

   Austin slipped my cock from her mouth with a slurp.  "Yes, Mistress."

   Diane kissed my shoulder before she slid down the slippery platform. 
"Sit back, Pretty," she said to Austin.  "You can lick his cock as he fucks
me."

   Austin sat up on my face as Diane moved over me and lowered her hips to
mine.  There was no awkward moment of trying to find the spot.  No
accidental bending, no missed connection.  My cock slipped right into
Diane's pussy as if it had a homing beacon.  I couldn't remember being
inside a hotter pussy, or one the stimulated every nerve of my cock the way
Diane's did.  I wished I could watch her ride me, but I was busy lapping
away at Austin's pretty pussy.  I was glad for that.  If not for Austin's
pussy, I would have cum inside Diane in three strokes.  As it was, I was
able to focus on Austin's delicious pussy long enough that Diane slammed
her hips against me hard as she cried out in another orgasm.

   Diane remained astride my hips as I brought Austin to a climax, if her
trembling, jerking body was any indication.  As she came down, I slid
myself out from under her and took a deep breath.  I still hadn't cum yet,
and my balls churned with need.  As I positioned myself behind Austin, I
looked out into the room.  Cindy was on her knees on a pillow blowing one
young man while another was behind her drilling her ample ass.  All around
the room, naked people were coupling in various groups.  As far as I could
see, no one was engaged one on one.  There was a minimum of three people in
each act.  Cindy's husband, Arthur, was sitting in a reclining chair with a
brown-skinned girl riding him reverse cowgirl while another stood on the
arms of the chair, her ass humping his face.

   I must have been distracted for too long, because Austin's fingers
grabbed my cock and pulled me to her.  She had flipped over onto her back.
"Hey," she said as her other hand stroked my face, "I'm down here."

   "Yes, you are," I whispered, my focus now fixed on her face.  Pretty. 
That's what Diane called her, and it fit.  Every part of her was pretty. 
Why she would bother wearing a mask to begin with was beyond me.  She
snaked her fingers through my hair and pulled me to her.  Our kiss quickly
grew hungry, and soon we were gasping between clashes of lips and tongues.
Her legs wrapped around my hips, pulling me to her.  The heat from her
pussy warming the shaft of my cock as it lay along the length of her slit.
Her arms wrapped around my back as we kissed, and she began humping me from
beneath, her hips gyrating on mine as I supported both of us on my arms.

   "Hey, Pretty," Diane leaned close to Austin's ear, "Did I say you could
fuck him?" Her expression was both playful and serious.

   Austin froze.  Her hips were still clenched up to mine and her arms
still held her up to my chest, but her gyrations ceased.  "N..No,
Mistress."

   "Do you want to fuck him, Pretty?"

   "Yes, Mistress."

   "Do you want his hard cock inside your pretty little pussy?"

   "Very much, Mistress." I could feel her pussy clench on my cock, like a
kiss.

   "When was the last time you got a proper fucking by a nice big cock like
his?"

   Austin closed her eyes and groaned.  "Too long, Mistress." Her pussy
seemed to get even hotter as Diane baited her, stoking her fire.

   "It feels good, you know," she drew in a hissing breath, her mouth now
brushing Austin's ear, "his cock.  He touched me in places I didn't know I
had."

   Austin groaned.  "May I fuck him, Mistress?"

   "You'd like that.  Maybe too much.  Maybe I should let you simmer a
little longer.  As punishment for riding his face without my permission."

   Austin whimpered.  I was both amused and turned on by the interchange. I
really wanted to fuck Austin, and I was pretty sure I was going to, but I
didn't want to upset the power play going on underneath me.  I lowered
Austin back to the platform since my arms started to shake under the strain
of holding her up.  My weight transferred to my hips and pressed my hard-on
into her mound, making her sigh out loud.

   "Please Mistress..."

   "Maybe you should ask him."

   Austin's blue eyes cried out her need more desperately than words ever
could.  "Please, sir.  Please fuck me."

   I reached down and grabbed her ass and pressed her crotch even harder
against me as I rocked my hips, grinding my shaft against her clit.  She
took over for me, bucking against me, humping against me as though her life
depended on it.  The heat and moisture from her pussy coated my cock as her
pussy lips traveled up and down my main vein.

   "Please..." she whimpered.

   The need in her plea mirrored the look in her eyes.  I bent down and
covered her mouth with mine, drinking of her lust as her hands clawed my
back.  My hands were glued to her ass as hers were to my back, yet my cock
found its way, through the gyrations of our hips, into her tunnel, plumbing
her depths and surrounding itself with molten passion.  "Aaaaahhhhhh!" She
cried.  "Yes!  Oh, God, that's good."

   "Don't let her come too quick," Diane whispered in my ear loud enough
that Austin could hear.  "She should earn the privilege." Her tongue traced
my ear as her hand stroked my back.  I turned and kissed her as Austin
humped up to me.  I didn't need to move.  She was fucking me.

   Diane pulled back settling on her knees and watched me and Austin.  She
was spectacular.  So was Austin.  I couldn't wrap my brain around the fact
that I was having sex with two perfect examples of human femininity. 
Movement caught my eye and I looked out into the room.  Sex was everywhere.
Cindy had added a third young man to her entourage.  There appeared to be
several more college-aged people, and they were all naked except that they,
like Austin, wore chokers.  Only theirs were black.  In fact, there were a
lot more females in the room than I originally counted, and they were all
young and they almost all wore chokers.

   Fingernails digging into my back brought my attention back to the young
woman beneath me.  She looked up at me through half-closed eyes, hissing as
she neared climax.  Remembering what Diane said, I lowered myself onto her,
slowing her hip action, preventing her from finishing her climb to orgasm.
My action was rewarded with a groan as her hand clamored at my back, urging
me to move inside her.

   I looked her in the eye.  "Do you want to cum?"

   "Please!"

   "Diane would want to know if you think you've earned it yet."

   Austin looked at me, the cloud of lust parting momentarily.  "Would you
like to fuck me from behind?"

   "Why, yes.  Yes, I would."

   Austin smiled as she pulled away from me and turned over to face Diane.
"May I service you, Mistress?  It would be my honor to make you cum."

   Diane smiled at me like a teacher favoring a star pupil.  "Yes, Pretty,
you may.  If you can make me cum fast, I'll let you cum again, too."

   Austin whimpered as she dove face first between Diane's thighs.  I
watched her head rock and bob as she feasted.  She had a talented tongue
and lapped in short strokes around Diane's fleshy lips.  Her thinner lips
winked at me as she knelt before me, beckoning me to split them.  A flush
of juice coated her petals as I grabbed my cock.  A drop of precum formed
at the head and I spread it around the purple cap making it shiny before I
dragged it between Austin's lips.  It slipped inside her almost of its own
accord and I relished the sensation of burying my shaft deep inside her. 
She groaned her approval into Diane's pussy.

   I grabbed Austin's hips and began driving into her with long, powerful
strokes.  My balls slapped her clit with each thrust, drawing a muffled
grunt.  After all the activity and stimulation, the cum built quickly in my
balls and I knew I was going blow soon.  In an effort to bring Austin off
before me, I rolled my hips on the down stroke and paused between each slap
of my hips.

   "Ahhhhh!" Austin cried out.  "Fuck!" She panted, then returned to her
pussy meal.  She had three fingers deep inside Diane as she sucked and
chewed on Diane's clit.

   "Oh, yes, Pretty," Diane panted, "you do know how to eat a pussy." Her
eyes were closed, and her head pitched back as she held Austin's head in
her hands.  Diane's chest flushed red as she sucked air through clenched
teeth.  "Yes!  That's it Pretty.  Drink my cum!" Diane's hips jerked in
rhythm as she came in Austin's mouth.

   Austin came right after.  Her pussy scalded me and clenched on my shaft,
threatening to squeeze me out.  "Uhnnnn!  Huh, huh, huh," she grunted as
she came.  The surge in her pussy heat broke me.  I pulled her hips to me
and emptied my balls into her in five, six, seven hard pulses, followed by
several lesser ones.

   After I was done, my slimy cock shrank and slipped from her pussy,
followed my several globules of our mixed cum.  I rolled to the side, lying
next to Diane as Austin collapsed on Diane's belly.  "That was incredible,"
I murmured.  "I've never done anything like that before."

   "Could've fooled me." Diane smiled and slipped under my arm, resting her
head on my chest.  "You fuck like a pro."

   The three of us lying there was so outside of my experience, I had no
idea what to say.  The other girl that started out with Austin had moved on
to another partner at some point, leaving just the three of us on the
platform.  Several party guests were still going strong, while others were
post coital, and lounging like we were.  Others were busy dressing.  The
party seemed to be winding down, but a commotion jarred us out of our
relaxation.

   "Diane!" A loud voice came from the foyer.  "Where is she?  I have to
see her."

   My eyes widened when the speaker came around the corner, followed by two
of the servers who were trying to slow him down.  The man's eyes mirrored
mine when he saw me.

   We stared at each other for several pregnant seconds before I spoke. 
"Dennis?"

   "Barry?  What the fuck..." his face fell slack when he saw Diane lying
next to me but was soon drawn in a violent scowl.  "What the ever-loving
fuck?  You fucked my girl?"

   "Shit," Diane muttered next to me as she got up.  "Dennis, I told you.
We are not a couple.  We will never be a couple.  Go home."

   "Is this why you didn't invite me to this party?  So you can fuck him?"

   "Yes!" Diane was getting mad.  "This is exactly why I didn't invite you.
Now, you need to go." She waved at a couple of larger young men who
appeared on each side of Dennis and grabbed him by the arms.

   "No, wait, Diane." He struggled in vain in their grasp.  "I'm sorry.  I
was wrong.  Please!" His pleas fell on deaf ears as he was half dragged to
the door.

   "Barry, I'm sorry you had to see that.  A friend of mine who wanted more
than I was prepared to give.  A nice man, really.  It's sad.  He seemed to
recognize you, though.  Do you know him?"

   "Well, yes.  Very well in fact.  We've been friends for more than 20
years."

   "Oh!" The news seemed to catch her off guard.  As though it was
something she should have known.  But why would she expect to know
something like that?  "Well, this is awkward."

   That was an understatement.  Evidently Diane was the younger woman
Dennis had an affair with and decided to end his marriage over.  I looked
at her again.  I could see why Dennis was so smitten by her.  Not only was
she beautiful, but her free and open attitudes toward sex more mirrored
his. Or at least what his used to be when he was younger.  So, I just had
sex with Dennis' girlfriend.  On the heels of finding out I had sex with
his last girlfriend, Kelly--even though I didn't know it at the time.  He
was going to hate me for eternity.

   "I think I should go," I said, sliding off the platform.

   "Aww," Austin whined.  "I was hoping you wanted to go again."

   "No, Pretty," Diane answered for me.  "It's probably for the best he
leaves.  We might have another time to play later, though."

   "Perhaps," I winked at them both.  "If you play your cards right." I
tried to laugh, but only managed a lame chuckle.

   When I left the building, Dennis was not waiting for me, as I feared he
might be.  That was a conversation I did not want to have but was probably
inevitable.  That would wait for another day.  As I drove home, I knew I
had to deal with that, plan Brenda's party, and still address the fight she
and I had earlier.  Tomorrow was not going to be fun.