Lagoona Lane Ch. 02

LAGOONA LANE

Chapter Two: The Web They Weave

On Monday evening, Joey Maple found his mother sitting at the kitchen table with her head in her hands and her eyes screwed shut. He came and stood beside her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right, mum?"

"Oh...Joey," said Mrs. Maple, sitting up quickly and looking slightly flustered. "Yes, I'm fine. I was just...resting, that's all."

Joey smiled encouragingly and walked to the cupboard for a snack. After he had taken down a packet of chips, his mother patted the chair beside her and said, "Sit down and talk to me. Tell me how school's going."

Joey was happy to oblige. He sat down on the chair his mother had been patting and put the open bag of chips between them. "School's okay," he said, taking a chip from the packet and crunching it loudly between his teeth.

"How did you go on your science project?"

"A-plus," said Joey. "The teacher said it was the highest mark in the class."

His mother beamed at him and patted him on the back. "That's excellent." She continued to beam at him for some time, until Joey was forced to look away. He ate more chips and contemplated the awkwardness of the silence between him and his mother. She must have something on her mind.

"Well," his mother said at length, getting to her feet, "I'll go up and make your bed."

"Thanks," said Joey, favouring her with a smile and then taking the packet of chips into the living room. He heard his mother start up the stairs and walk across the second story floor, but after that he tuned into the television programme he was watching and forgot all about her. He didn't realise, of course, that she was sitting on his bed and sobbing, as her pussy ached for the touch of her fingers. She tried to deny it that pleasure, but her tears soon stopped and she fell sideways onto the bed with her hand inside her pants, panting and gasping and filling her nostrils with her son's scent.

* * *

Luke Prewett was lying in his bed later that night, when his sister entered the room. She was lit only by the moonlight, but Luke could see that she wore a pale pink nightgown that would cover her panties as long as she refrained from lifting her arms. He sat up and leaned back against the headboard, admiring the sight of his sister. "I don't ever recall being paid a night-time visit by you before."

Lisa smiled her innocent, seductive smile. "You never asked."

Luke raised his chin and smiled back. Lisa came and sat down on the side of his bed, drawing circles on the coverlet with her slender index finger. "You know...I was a bit offended when you didn't take me up on my offer."

"What offer?"

"The one to take me by the pigtails and fuck me silly."

Luke realised, with a soft flutter, that she was indeed sporting pigtails. "I wasn't aware that that was a proposition," he said.

"Does it have to be?" Lisa replied.

Luke shrugged. "I make it a habit not to have sex with girls who don't want me to have sex with them."

"You're too nice," said Lisa. "You have to learn to take what you want."

"That's called rape."

"Not if I enjoy it." There was a twinkle in her eye.

"You wouldn't," said Luke, lazily checking the time on his alarm clock.

"What makes you say that?" Lisa asked, unfazed.

"To you it's just sex," Luke explained. "You need to make a connection to enjoy it."

"And you have a connection with daddy's secretary, do you?"

"I care about her," Luke admitted. "And she cares about me. We make each other happy."

"Oh, please," said Lisa. "You're using her."

"You have a one-track mind, sis," said Luke. "But I wouldn't expect any more from daddy's little girl."

Lisa didn't appear even the slightest bit perturbed. "I told you – we give each other what we want."

"And what about happiness?" Luke asked. "Does he make you happy?"

"No," Lisa replied simply, and then smiled. "That's why I'm here."

"You think I can make you happy?"

"I think you can try."

"I think a lot of guys can try."

"I know you want me," said Lisa, running her hand up Luke's arm. She expected him to shake, but he didn't. She lifted his hand and ran it across her breasts. "I've seen you looking at these. I know you want to taste them."

Luke took his hand away. "You're not my type."

"Don't flatter yourself," said Lisa. "Anything with a moist pussy is your type." Luke just looked at her with an amused expression. "And we both know," Lisa added, "that the second I leave the room you'll take off your pants and stroke yourself to thoughts of my tight little ass."

"And you'll do exactly the same in your room," said Luke, smiling.

"You think so?" said Lisa, leaning forward so that her breasts were pressing against Luke's right arm. She opened her mouth and let it hang near his ear, his lips, his neck, without touching him once. "I can do you much better than Carol ever could."

Luke turned towards Lisa, careful not to touch her with his lips. "You want it, too."

"Maybe I do," she replied. "But you want it more."

"Supposing I do," said Luke, who was having trouble keeping his voice even. "What then?"

"Then..." said Lisa, crawling onto his lap so that his cock was wedged between her ass cheeks. "You have to do two things for me."

Luke was unable to stop a single shuddering breath from escaping his lips. He kept his hands on the bed though, by expending an enormous amount of willpower. "Yeah?" he said. "What kinds of things?"

"First," said Lisa, sliding a finger across her brother's chest and looking at him through her eyelashes, "you have to be nice to me."

"Nice to you?" said Luke. "When am I ever mean to you?"

"You aren't," said Lisa. "But you aren't nice either. You're indifferent." She turned her head to the side and nestled it in the crook of Luke's neck, touching her nose to his skin. He finally shook. "I want you to treat me like a sister," she said, pressing her lips softly against his neck, less of a kiss and more of a touch. "I want you to say nice things to me," she touched him with her lips again, "and help me with my schoolwork. And I want you to spend time with me."

"That's asking a lot," said Luke. "On account of the fact that you're so unpleasant to be around." Lisa lifted her face and leaned it against Luke's, smiling wickedly. He could see the blue of her eyes even in the darkness. But she didn't speak. "What's the second?" asked Luke.

"Second," said Lisa, opening her mouth and running her hand down Luke's chest to the vicinity of his crotch – she stopped just before and looked up into his eyes, "I want you to beg."

"Beg?" said Luke.

"Mm-hmm," said Lisa. "I want you tobeg me to fuck you."

Luke looked amused. "I'm a Prewett," he said. "We don't know how to beg."

"Oh, it's easy," said Lisa. "For instance, I might ask you toplease take me by the head and jam your cock in my mouth until you come all down my throat." She finished with a sexy smile. Luke continued to look amused, to keep the desire at bay. "Now you try," said Lisa. "Tell me who much you want to take me by the hips and bury your cock in my tight little cunt until you can't even see it."

Luke sighed deeply, and then opened his mouth to speak. "I don't think so." He grabbed Lisa tightly around the hips and lifted her off him, as easily as he might lift a pillow. Lisa clearly was not used to being rejected. She was able to swallow her indignation though, the way she might have swallowed Luke's come if he'd obliged her. "Fine," she said elegantly. "But in five minutes, when you're beating yourself off furiously beneath those covers, just try to imagine what it would have been like to have my mouth around your cock."

"I always do," said Luke, with a sly smile.

Lisa smirked at him and left the room.

* * *

Mrs. Gwendolyn Dunn was in a furious state the next morning. She pinched the bridge of her nose and rolled her neck around slowly, then opened her eyes to face her husband again.

"I amnot going to that dinner. I have an appointment at the spa that weekend."

"You have to come," Antonio told her. "It's employees and partners."

"Well, why don't you take that girl from your golf club?" Gwendolyn demanded.

"Baby, you know I'd never cheat on you."

Gwendolyn snorted but decided not to pursue the point. "Do you have any idea how long it takes to get an appointment at that place? And now you want me to give it up for one of your stupid dinners?"

"I'll make it up to you," said Antonio. "I'll buy you your own spa."

Gwendolyn pinched her nose again. "It's not that kind of spa."

"Whatever," said Antonio. "I'll buy you a mud bath. It doesn't matter. I just need you at this dinner."

Gwendolyn looked up with a curious smile on her face. "Youneed me?" she asked, taking a step closer.

"I always need you, baby," said Antonio. He took Gwendolyn in his arms as she came closer and kissed her on the lips. She leaned into it eagerly and pushed him back against the kitchen table, but Antonio struggled free. "I have to go to work," he said, straightening his tie. Gwendolyn put her hands on her hips and looked at him with an incredulous expression. "I'll see you later," he said, then kissed her on the cheek and left the house.

"I don't believe it," Gwendolyn said aloud when he had left. She shook her head and turned around, looking through the glass doors that led to the outdoor entertaining area. Oliver was out there, pruning bushes with his clippers. Gwendolyn smiled and walked outside. She came up silently behind Oliver and wrapped her arms around him. He started and looked around, then smiled. "Hi, Mrs. Dunn."

"Gwen, honey," she reminded him. "Are you having fun out here?"

Oliver shrugged. "It's okay."

"What would be more fun?" Gwendolyn asked, turning him around to face her. "Would this?" She lowered her hand and gripped his crotch in it, squeezing gently. Oliver's eyes closed and he let out a shaky breath. "Or what about this..." said Gwendolyn, coming closer and kissing him on the neck. She kissed him six, seven, eight times before she stopped and smiled at him. "Or what about..." she said, and started to unbutton his fly, "this?" She pulled out his cock, dropped to her knees and sucked it into her mouth. Oliver staggered backwards and dropped the pruning scissors.

Gwendolyn pulled him forward again and wrapped her arms around his waist, so that his cock was completely buried in her mouth. She wet every inch of it with sticky saliva and then pulled it out to smile up at Oliver, pumping his cock with her hand as she did. "You ready for some real work?" she asked. Oliver nodded laboriously. "Good boy," said Gwendolyn. She tucked Oliver's cock back inside his pants, rose to her feet and took his hand to lead him inside. "Why don't we do it in the shower this time?" she suggested.

* * *

Joey Maple rarely masturbated. He was never comfortable doing so, when his family were so set in their values and morals. What they would say if they knew! But whenever he caught even the smallest glimpse of Lisa Prewett from across the road, he couldn't help himself. She was a babe – everyone at school agreed. The only problem, for some of the boys (Joey would never even contemplate doing anything with her), was that she was never interested in any kind of relationship, physical or otherwise. Of course, that was a lie, and although Joey didn't know it, nor Lisa's father, she had sucked quite a few of the boys' cocks at her school and even let a few of them finger her. But sex was always out of the question, and the only way one could ever have Lisa Prewett was in one's mind.

Oliver's infatuation with Lisa was based on a different emotion – affection rather than lust. He never felt right thinking of her in a sexual scenario, and he had Mrs. Dunn to satisfy that need. But he did like her, a lot. It was on the same day that he had had sex with Mrs. Dunn in the shower that he saw her, walking past the Dunn house with her usual beatific smile in place and her blonde hair reflecting the sun.

"Hi, Oliver," she said musically.

"H– hi," Oliver stammered. To his immense astonishment, she stopped and leaned against the fence where he was trimming hedges. "I hope they pay you a lot for this," she said. "You work awful hard. And it's so hot too." She wiped a hand across her chest, which glistened with sweat and sunlight. Oliver shook involuntarily. "So how come you've never asked me out?" Lisa inquired.

Oliver gaped at her. Surely he'd heard wrong. "Asked– asked you out?"

"Mmm," said Lisa. "I thought you liked me."

"I– I do," spluttered Oliver. "I just...I didn't think...."

"That I'd say yes?" Oliver nodded. "Well, I can't," said Lisa. "My father doesn't like me dating. But you could still have asked. And I might have made it worth your while." There was a glint in her eye that told Oliver he had been quite wrong in his belief in Lisa Prewett's innocence. She came closer to him and laid a hand on his chest. "You know...working here with that gorgeous Mrs. Dunn all day must get you pretty worked up." She looked up at his eyes. "Right?"

"K– kind of," Oliver replied.

"And I bet you're justaching for some relief." Lisa wet her lips and put them close to Oliver's ear. "Do you know somewhere private we could go?"

Oliver's entire body shook. He had never been this nervous before, not even with Mrs. Dunn. He wasn't sure if he wanted to do this with Lisa, but his body seemed to have already decided for him. "There's...some space down the back of the property," he said, pointing behind him in the general direction. "No one ever goes down there."

"Perfect," said Lisa, taking his hand. "Let's go."

* * *

Luke was highly intrigued by his sister's obvious lust for him. In truth, he wanted her more than any other girl in the town. Only Mrs. Dunn across the road came close. But he didn't want Lisa to know that – if they had sex he wanted it to be on either his or equal terms. She had left him excited, however, and needed relief.

It was the weekend, so Carol wasn't working, but Luke had other paramours he could turn to. He left the house and walked down the road to the de Laine place, which was usually empty on Sundays. He knocked on the white wooden door and waited until it opened. Mrs. de Laine was standing there, her raven-coloured hair hanging past her shoulders with a kick at the end. She had dark, black eyes to match and the fullest lips Luke had ever seen. "Hi, Mrs. de Laine," he said. "I was wondering if I could borrow Tim's science book – I left mine at school."

"Oh, Tim's out, dear," Mrs. de Laine replied. "So is Donald. It's just me." She smiled. "But come in, I'll see if I can find the book for you."

"Thanks," said Luke, wiping his leather soles on the welcome mat and stepping inside.

The de Laine's house was much like any other in the neighbourhood, only it seemed more cluttered with decorative ornaments and abstract paintings. It was also the only house on Lagoona Lane, that Luke had been in, to have carpet. There were also a myriad of photographs of Mrs. de Laine's son Timothy – several dozens actually.Compensation, Luke thought idly.

"So..." Mrs. de Laine said, turning around to face Luke, "can I get you anything?"

Mrs. de Laine was usually the first stop on every Pennington boy's quest for pussy, at least those who knew about her. She was notorious for her appetites, although she usually preferred the younger demographic. It was well known, by some, that on Sundays her husband and son went fishing by the Gladstone River, where the de Laine's owned a cabin. If you were lucky enough to find her at home during the day, then you were guaranteed some sexual relief. And she didn't believe in queues either, Mrs. de Laine – if you showed up with three other boys in the house, she'd tell you to hop up on the bed and find a hole. Luke didn't like to share with other boys though, so he usually turned to Mrs. de Laine only as a last resort. Also because she had one of the loosest pussies in town. It was often said that the only boy in Pennington she wouldn't fuck was her own son. How Tim couldn't know of his mother's reputation as the town slut, Luke had no idea.

In the end, it was Mrs. de Laine who spoke first. "Why don't you come upstairs," she suggested, and led the way.

She was a beautiful woman, Luke had to admit as he watched her ass all the way up the stairs. She had a magnificent set of breasts, great legs and an alluring face. If it weren't for her proclivity to sleep with anything that moves, she might have made her husband a happy man. He knew nothing, however, so he likely was happy.

"I haven't seen you in a while," Mrs. de Laine commented as she held the bedroom door open for him.

"Yeah, I've been busy," Luke replied, pretending to admire the room. She didn't have the taste that some of the women on the block had, but at least it wasn't a disaster. And you couldn't blame her for a lapse in the décor, when she spent most of her time being slammed against it. Tasteful paintings just wouldn't withstand that kind of treatment.

"Always busy you are, Luke Prewett," she said after shutting the door. "I sometimes wonder how many little lovers you have across this town."

"Too many," Luke replied.

"You have a way with women," said Mrs. de Laine, and wrapped a hand around Luke's neck to kiss him. He always liked kissing – it was one of the most important parts of sex to him, maybe even more so than the sex itself. But there were plenty of women he would rather kiss than Mrs. de Laine. His sister, for one. He simply came here for the kind of physical relief that was only marginally better than using his own hand. At least hear he had a face to come on, which Mrs. de Laine always insisted upon.

"What'll it be, hotshot?" she asked, unbuttoning Luke's shirt.

In response Luke unfastened her skirt and let it fall to the ground. "I can't stay long," he said, moving her over to the wall.

"Just the way I like it," said Mrs. de Laine, placing her hands flat on the wall and bending over slightly. "Make sure you get nice and deep. I want to scream."

* * *

Mrs. Stacey Prewett, as we have said, considers herself to be the most normal woman on Lagoona Lane. It isn't that the other women let her know about their personal lives (no one on Lagoona Lane ever does), but that she catches the faint hint of a secret every now and then, and realises that these women aren't as proper as they claim to be. Mrs. Dunn, certainly, alludes to the occasional extra-marital romance, and some, like Mrs. Montgomery, can't help but vocalise their opinions of this construction worker or that plumber. And when Mrs. Montgomery complains of a pipe clog or asks her husband for some renovations, Mrs. Prewett knows what's going on.

Yes, she considers herself the most respectable lady on the block. But, as we have also said, that is about to change.

Whenever a bachelor moves into a street like Lagoona Lane, the news of his arrival spreads like wildfire through the neighbourhood, and single and divorced women from all over come out in droves. They trickle out of their houses and pop up behind fences; they bring welcoming gifts and claim their son lost his football over the new neighbours fence, and if they could just pop round and get it for him, that would be great.

If Mrs. Prewett had been one of these women, which she wasn't, she would have been quite thrilled to meet Mr. Andrew Bateman at the local supermarket, especially since he hadn't yet met any of his neighbours. It was always a lucky thing to get a leg up on the competition in situations such as these.

It was in the checkout aisle that Mrs. Prewett met Mr. Bateman. She had stopped at the supermarket only for a few items, such as milk and bread and things the family would need before Monday. She had hoped, foolishly, to pass through the 'twelve items or less' lane with an extra, unlucky thirteenth item. The girl at the checkout had been most insistent. "Twelve items or less, ma'am," she said in a bored tone, whilst chewing gum.