AAA+ Everything Box

Finally, pushing up harder and harder, throwing my cock into her tight clenching hole, I felt myself expanding and pulling up, ready, .... Ready... and then Fireworks! In, and up, SPURT, and I was coming in her, upwards thrusting in, her distraught but loving face right there with mine, kissing me, kissing my cheeks, holding me tight, exhaling and groaning with the shared joy of it all.

Jerky, slower motions, involuntary hip-thrusts followed (like usual, really), and I was ready to pull out, a last smiling, own-lower-lip-biting almost-shy kiss from her, hopeful love right on her face.

This was a great place to be.

Pulling out and pushing over, I let go of Kate, who chuckled and settled onto the floor, inspiring laughter from Carol sitting next to us. I realized I'd forgotten something.

"Carol? I forgot to lick you."

She rolled her eyes and smiled, pointing with her chin, "You were busy."

"True dat."

I was out, and noticed I was glistening there, but Carol bent down and licked me again.

She said, "Clean up. Gotta do cleanup. Important."

Once that was done, we rearranged, and (following some random selection), I was in bed with Deanna and Carol and Kate were in the other bed.

Just after she got up, Carol bent down and kissed me good night. Then, at my urging, she kissed Deanna (full on the lips! Sexy!). Laughing, I insisted she kiss her sister Kate, too, and yes on the lips thank you. She did as they both laughed. The kiss was pro-forma, on the lips but not sexy. Casual, but I knew the sister-love between them was pretty formal and I didn't want to alter that too much.

== Chapter: Driving Home ==

The drive back to Manitoba was pretty uneventful. Leaving before breakfast, we had 2 meal/charging stops on the way north since it was electric, but it charged far faster than we ate, so there wasn't any delay.

Canadian Customs and Border Control gave us no hassle about being citizens, but they did review our paperwork for the car at some length. I was careful to not touch anyone's hand, though, since I didn't need complications or (under lots of closed-circuit tv cameras) any odd behavior. The real delay was waiting for other people in front of us.

Kate texted mom, so she was in the driveway when we got there.

She was gushing, "YOUR FIRST NEW CAR! OH my God!"

Of course, it was bigger than hers, and nicer. As she talked, I realized how strong the contrast was. Her ride was an ancient gas Toyota and very much decrepit. Standing there, I wondered if she still owed money on her credit card to pay off repairs she'd had done the previous year. I'd have to take care of that. Maybe I'd just have her take all her bills to the accountant and let them solve things like paying bills and stuff.

As for what to do with the car, I didn't have a charger, and the newly cleaned garage, around the back of the house and in front of mom's car, was a separate building and didn't have electrical outlets sized for a fast charger.

So, one more thing. We needed a charger. We needed an electrician. We needed a garage door opener. We needed lots of things.

Really, we needed a nicer house.

Not that we really NEEDED it, it would just be simpler.

As we walked in the house, I asked Carol to get a real estate agent working on finding us a better house. I'd want to see what was available; nothing too upscale, maybe in the country a little ways, land to have a big garage and workshop, lots of spare bedrooms, double master bedrooms, maybe.

I had to pee first, we'd been on the road a while.

When I came out of the bathroom, Mrs. Kinskey, Kate and Carol's mom had arrived. It was nighttime, and they were going to head home. We kissed goodbye, and I even watched them both kiss Deanna on the lips, which gave me a deep inner smile.

Deanna and I waited with my mom inside since she wanted a glass of water. She'd already called her mom to come pick her up, so when Mrs. Renselatt got there, she got the tour of the car as well. There were other Tesla cars in town, but no CT's, even though this was an older version. She liked that it was clean, and that it seated 6 people, but I think she was holding something back. I wondered if she was noticing the fender and door dents and scratches.

I said, "What's on your mind?"

She was sort-of programmed to be ultra-truthful with me, so she said, "I'm wondering what it cost. You don't seem to have a lot of money, and no real job."

My mom spoke up and said, "Oh, Kevin has a job. He's doing computer programming work online. It lets him buy things for his mom sometimes, too." She was obviously proud of me.

Mrs. Renselatt's face relaxed. She understood that computer people made money, it fit with her worldview. She seemed a lot less concerned all of a sudden.

I added, "We got a good deal on it since it has some dents and it has high mileage, but that's okay in a Tesla 'cuz the batteries are gen-4."

We said our goodbyes and mom and I went inside. As I carted my stuff upstairs, she peppered me with questions about the trip -- the plane, the hotel, the buying process, customs, everything.

As I unpacked, I tried to answer as best I could, but I just had to gloss over what we did during the day as 'sightseeing, looking at buildings, talking with some people, that kind of thing." I FOR SURE was not going to tell her what we really did at the spas and bars, and definitely not at the symphony, either.

Unpacking, I found a note that was the hotel stationary and it said, "We Love You!" and was signed by all 3 girls.

I showed it to mom and she gushed, proud of me, I think.

I interrupted this concept with a wondering question, "So, Mom. Two things. I can help some with the bills, but we need to send them to Carol's friend, the accountant? She can help with things, maybe, since I work from home I might be able to deduct some of the mortgage from our taxes."

She nodded, appreciating, but a little sideways, "And, the other?"

"I'm wondering if I looked around town for a house that had a bigger second bedroom, or maybe one with a basement?"

"You want to move?"

"Maybe. Can we think about it? Not definite, just think. Not a huge place, just slightly bigger than here?"

"I'll think. That's about all I'm gonna do."

"Okay."

There was a pause between us. She was evaluating whether to ask me how I got so much money, but I'd told her to treat me like a normal kid, so she calmed herself down, I think.

Sleeping alone was different. I was tired. It'd been an active weekend.

== Chapter: Monday Morning Rain ==

Wanting to try out my new ride, I drove through a pouring rainstorm to school the next morning (early), but someone saw me get out and (it being only the 3rd Tesla there), it got around school. On the plus side, the rain washed the road dirt off the car.

After 3rd period, just walking out of class, Cindy Peterson walked right up to me, and I thought it might be about the car.

It wasn't.

"Kevin!" She poked me in the chest, obviously with a bone to pick. Instinctively, I backed up, and into a couple of people. I know I touched some of them, and they stopped to look at the scene.

"Uh... yeah?"

Her finger hand dropped and touched mine in the process. Her anger turned to confusion, and I knew something was up, so I backed up into the entryway of a closed-door classroom to get out of the way. She tried to continue, "I have a bone to pick with you."

"Okay?"

Settling in on her former train of thought, she said, "You went out with Beth Lester. On a date."

I nodded, interested in where this was going, but still a little defensive.

"You never called her back."

"How do you know this?"

"She's my friend. I asked her. She said, yes, you went out on a date. I asked her later, did you ever call her back, and she said, 'no, I haven't heard from him.' That's just plain rude."

As Cindy was saying this, I could tell her eyes were getting softer and she was getting less mad. I'd seen it in others, the way the process worked was that as soon as we touched, it had the effect that they started trusting me, like I was a member of their family or close friend group all of a sudden. Sometimes people would sniff, as if something was familiar, too, but that didn't happen all the time.

I had to get to class. The two people standing there, that I'd bumped into, I motioned for them to come over, too, and I got out my phone quickly and showed them the screen. Just barely loud enough for them to hear, I said, "You three. Read this and obey it."

It had the instructions Carol and had prepared for my English class.

I looked at Cindy. She was a freshman, 18 or 19 years old, and really hot-looking. But, I knew her enough to know she was an utter bitch when it came to belittling people, being mean, divisive, and opinionated. I didn't have any trouble with people having opinions, just those that were effectively emotional bullies about it.

My brain went into overtime with her. I decided to bump things up. "What are you doing tonight?"

This took her aback. "What? Uh, nothing, really. Calc homework, doing my AP Bio lab writeup..."

"Good. Text Carol, you know her number. Tell her I said you're on for tonight at... 6:30. She'll give you instructions. Obey them." I was being terse, I had to get to class.

She said, "Oh. Okay."

"Go on."

She nodded and left, slightly confused, I think.

I was distracted myself, and I heard the pre-bell-chirp saying 1 minute to get into class, so I rushed.

Distracted, I didn't fully appreciate what I was getting into next. My "Gym" class was a lot like a high school gym class, the college did it for us mostly by popular demand. I liked the idea of being able to play random games and workout during the day, even with being in cross country.

So, I got there as quickly as I could, changing fast into our standard gym uniforms (shorts and thin t-shirt) and running out into the gym. Since it was rainy and cold, they'd moved us inside, but because of some guest speaker thing, we were in the old and very small basketball gym.

It wasn't just our class, though. It looked like 4 separate gym classes -- 3 girls' and 1 guys' class. They had us separated because... no really obvious reason. I hated it. Gym was great when there were girls around to stare at.

The game, organized by the gym teachers, was an obstacle course, of sorts. I figured I could do this and not touch too many people, so I stayed there instead of feigning injury, as I'd done in the past when it looked like I'd have to touch people around me.

It all started simply enough. Pick up a basketball, run to the end of the gym, hand it to the person who gets there next, which signaled the next person to leave. In lines, we were competing team-to-team.

After the first round, it was 3 pull ups, the next two people in line would lift your legs if you couldn't do one.

Next was carrying people across the gym, one person per arm/leg/back.

My team of 8 had touched me inside the first few minutes.

I thought that would be the end of it. Nope!

The next twist was basketball, with half of the people defending a net and the other half dribbling in and trying to lay up, then switching.

In that short half-hour, nearly everyone in that class had touched me, or I'd touched them. I probably had missed a few, but who knew which ones!?! Egads. I was in trouble.

Just about near the end, I stood up on one of the bleachers and yelled for attention. I had to do something. "Attention! Please?! Attention!"

They turned to look at me, of course. Enough people did that the rest did, too, so I was no closer to knowing who I'd touched and who I hadn't.

So, I kept going. "Hey, Uh, Sorry, excuse me. I'm going to have a raffle at lunchtime, 6th period, please buy a ticket to help support my run for Class President." I hadn't even checked out if Midvale College HAD class presidents for each year, so I was winging it.

I plugged on: "Half of proceeds donated to charity. If you don't have lunch 6th period, find me right after school at the west parking entrance. Thanks! Kevin for Class President!"

I stepped down, but someone shouted, "What are you raffling?"

I was flummoxed, but I decided, "Dinner for two at the 'Fontana De Trevii'." That was the nice restaurant in town, probably would set me back $70 for two people, but it was nice enough for some people to nod. No one boo'd, at least.

After class, I showered super-quick (they let us have 7 minutes to change, which was just long enough to get a quick hose-off before getting re-dressed) and headed to history.

History was another problem. Since I was rushing, I bumped into some other people on the way there. I had to stop, shake their hands, and tell them to buy a raffle ticket from me at lunch or see me after school. They readily agreed. They were two girls and a guy, but it didn't matter because the instructions covered everyone.

In history, I texted Carol and caught her up on the events. I was sure she wouldn't want to be blindsided by this.

She texted back that we'd need tickets to give out.

By lunchtime, I'd solved that. We just wrote people's names down. The tickets were $5, which was enough to totally fund the dinner, plus give me some money ostensibly for my class president run. Everyone who came up, I shook their hand or fist-bumped, then I told them the raffle had rules, then, then to read and obey the rules.

Luckily (or just with good preparation), Carol had a printout that just said, 'read Fit529 rules and obey them'. While we were sitting there (trying to eat lunch while people came up), I told her about Cindy and that from now on for any new person I'd pick them up at their house so I could meet the family. We both knew that translated to preventing a parental freak-out for the weekday overnight sex-romp and a morning pick-up at my house.

We sold about $450 in tickets, which made sense given the number of people in the gym class, plus a few people that came over who just wanted to know what was going on. The first thing, always, was the handshake, so we didn't give instructions to an un-touched person.

I barely got to eat.

The rest of the day was uneventful, though I hung out after school for a half-hour selling more tickets.

In the process, I got a visit from the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences Dean, and had to shake his hand, too. I didn't really want to do that, but I guessed I had to. I gave him the website and the pretty-please, verbally reciting what I remembered. Having a much better memory in the past few weeks, I could do that, but I preferred to let people read it.

Carol had cross country workouts (season was over) so she couldn't be there, but I managed to not mess up the process reasonably well, I thought.

On my way home, I stopped by the real estate office downtown Carol had pointed me to. She hadn't done much legwork, just enough to get me the name of a person who was reasonably reputable, she thought.

The only one there was a lady in her 60's. Her nameplate said, 'Irene'. She looked at me with some suspicion. "Hello, how can I help you?"

(Note that her tone did say that, it said, "I'm don't want whatever school project you're selling.")

I ignored the tone and said, "I'm here because my mom asked me to do some prep work. I'm Kevin." I stretched out my hand.

She shook it.

Yay!

I continued, giving her the standard instructions but adding an 'always be perfectly honest with me' and 'treat me like an adult'.

She nodded, so I continued.

"My mom and I are looking for a house, not too fancy, on the edge of town, maybe, a big farmhouse or something maybe with outbuildings. It can be older, but not too far out of town. Lots of bedrooms. Maybe a pool."

"Not too fancy, and with a pool, those don't go together easily. What's the price range?"

"You tell me."

We went through several locations, but it was getting close to time to go pick up Cindy (my assignation for the night).

I told her I'd be back the next day and to have some walk-throughs available on at least 2 houses, and to keep our requests and process entirely confidential, treating it like an out-of-town purchaser.

== Chapter: Out-of-Box Thinking with Cindy ==

Cindy's house was a super-nice place on Oak Bluff road, a little out of the way but huge.

Her mother let me in, confused, since Cindy hadn't mentioned anything. Her father and (!twin sister!)(who I somehow didn't put together because they were fraternal twins) came in to greet me, too. Handshakes all around, and a quick process of letting them read the standard 'parent / sibling instructions' I had on my phone, and we were set.

Since she already had a small bag packed (given Carol's instructions)(and, Egads, where would I be without Carol!?), we set off. She liked my car, she said, but it was kind of dirty inside, and it had scratches, and how did I afford it, wasn't I poor or something?

I had some adjustments to make to my perspective on Cindy. That is, I had to strongly resist the urge to reprogram her into a normal person.

If I did that, almost everyone that knew her would know something was up, and then I'd be hosed. So...

Just about the time I pulled in the driveway, I had a phrasing ready. "Pretty-please, pretty-please."

She looked at me, expectantly, open-trusting-eyes.

"From now on, just when we're together, you'll treat me as medium-high-status socially. That's slightly above you in terms of respectability and social importance. Any objections?"

"No, sir."

Her haughty, judgmental attitude had hurt a lot of people, I decided, so I thought about what I wanted her to become. She needed to understand how it felt to be when people judged her harshly, or she wouldn't learn how to behave among normal people.

I corrected her, "No, master."

She nodded, "oh. No, master."

I realized I was still inside a pretty-please, so I continued, "Whenever ... Whenever I call you, Kin-dee, that's your signal to become much more subservient to me. You will then, for the rest of the day, regard yourself as having low social status and not presume you deserve attention. Got it?"

"Yes, Master." She considered, and asked, "Will I have to do this in public?"

"Perhaps."

"I ... could be harmed by that."

"How?"

"People will think I'm ... weak. I'm not weak."

"Yes. You will know you're weak. You will feel humiliation. You will start to understand what kind of pain results when people are insulted. All around you, as you go through your days from now on, at first just with me, but then starting 3 weeks from now and gradually following that over the next few weeks after that, you will consider what other people around you are feeling and have empathy and compassion for that, trying to put yourself in their position to understand their context."

"Yes, master."

"Doing what I say will give you pride if you do a good, honest job... with... attention to the details, and thinking ahead, and clearly communicating, succinctly."

"Yes, Master."

"That's an order."

She nodded, and suddenly bit her lower lip and looked pensive, but didn't say anything.

"Get your bag. We're going inside."

"Yes, Master."

It felt weird to do that to her, but the power trip was tempered by my not wanting to be an asshole. I kind-of had to be, though.

We got inside and took off our coats. Mom had gotten home, and I was starving. Cindy had eaten already. We walked around after I introduced her and I showed her the house.

She had to do something while I ate, so I had her sit on my bed and do her homework. I broke out a textbook, 'Advanced Regression Analysis', a stats course that was pretty formula-heavy but I liked the ideas. The point of it was how to separate out what Appeared-to-be-true from what Actually-was, and I liked the subject.