Best of Rivals

It was Sunday afternoon before we saw Jamal and Tiffany and Chelsea and Chad. Chad had looked unhappy before their trip; he looked positively miserable now.

Chelsea, however, was even more smiley and bouncy and happy than before. She did frown when I related what had happened with Kevin, then shrugged and smiled.

She said it wasn't my fault and gave me a real tight hug, pressing them tits up against me. I did get a bit of a boner; she had some really nice tits. She giggled and gave me a big wet kiss.

Jamal and Tiffany also got big wet kisses. Chad didn't say a word, just turned and left the trailer. Actually? I don't think he said a word the whole time he stood there, looking pissed off.

Jamal and Tiffany were real happy too. They both listened as Mishayla just went on and on about all the stuff we did.

"Pancakes? You made pancakes? Well, young lady, you going have make*us* some pancakes," Jamal said.

Jamal handed me two twenty dollar bills for babysitting Mishayla. I thanked him, but told him I didn't really want the money. Tiffany gave me a beaming smile when I talked about my new-found appreciation for all that Mommies go through.

That got me a brief hug and playful slap from Tiffany. Mishayla gave me a real tight, tight, super tight hug and a noisy kiss. And Chelsea gave me another wet kiss, pressing those huge boobs against me.

I did whack off as I relived that wet kiss and huge boobs of Chelsea's. I'd seen one of Todd's Dad's porno tapes where this girl used her huge boobs and whacked this guy's schlong off, wrapping those boobs around his meat until he squirted his jizz all over her face and tits. I whacked off thinking I'd love to do that with Chelsea.

Briefly, I did wonder if Billy had ever done that with Amy. My sister's got some really big boobs, I guess makes up for her snotty attitude.

Honestly? I was kind of relieved as I licked my jizz off my hand. Up until now, whenever I spanked my monkey, I'd been spanking it to thoughts of Gary and the driver both fucking me, and to thoughts of sucking Patrick's dick. So, jerking off while thinking of a girl, even if it was my sister and Chelsea did make me feel a lot better about me.

At school, rumors flew around about Kevin getting arrested. Again. And this time, they'd found the stuff on him; he wasn't getting out of it this time.

But, because of him going to our school, we had a bunch of drug sniffing dogs come to our school. They found a bunch of marijuana in some lockers, including Patrick's locker. He had a lot of it and it suddenly made sense why he seemed to have money for those fancy ass sneakers of his.

That afternoon, Jamal stopped me outside my trailer just as I was getting out my truck. I was beat; it had been a long ass day with a bunch of tests and shit. The cops being there didn't stop our teachers from piling the shit on top of us.

"Hey, Aaron," he smiled. "Listen, we getting together this Saturday, little barbeque; you come?"

"Yeah, sure," I said. "What time?"

"Aw, whenever," he said.

"Starts at one," Tiffany called out from their porch. "Jamal, why you men got be like that? Boy asked what time and you got to give him that 'whatever' stuff?"

"See need teach you who's boss 'round here," he puffed himself up.

"Uh huh," Tiffany smiled. "Well, *boss* we going playground. Coming?"

"Uh huh, uh huh," Jamal said. "Oh, and uh, hey, my step-sister going be there."

"Half-sister," Tiffany corrected him.

"She's my step-father's kid," Jamal argued, taking Mishayla's other hand.

"But your mother's one had her," Tiffany said. "So, that makes her your half-sister."

I closed the door on them. Like I said, I was beat. I just didn't have energy listen to all that bickering. Worse than one them soap operas my mom used love.

I put my books on the table, grabbed a Fanta Orange and stripped out of my clothes. My two uniforms went into the washing machine, including my boxer shorts.

One of the guys at my school, Pete Mische wears boxers. Told me, he hates way briefs feel, binding his meat, making his balls sweat and shit. So, I bought myself some boxers, and man, let me tell you, they feel great.

Now, walking around, sipping on a cold Orange soda water, dick swinging back and forth, I started getting a boner. So I went into my room and pulled open the nightstand drawer.

This used be my mom's room. When she died, I moved into this room out of my dinky little room. Of course, that meant I had throw out all her clothes and stuff. And when I opened her nightstand drawer, I found a stack of Hustler and Penthouse magazines. I don't even want think why my mom would have them magazines; most of the pictures were of girls.

She also had a super big dildo and a big old jar of lube. I used a shirt of hers to pick that dildo up and dumped it in the garbage. Then all I could think of was how that thing would feel if I used it on me.

I know what you thinking. No, I didn't dig it out the garbage; that's just wrong. But I did find an ad for dildos and vibrators in the back of one of the magazines and sent them a check for thirty nine eighty nine and got my own dildo.

Now, I yanked open the nightstand drawer and pulled the eight inch whopper out. I lubed the fat sucker up, then started looking through one of my mom's magazines. My dick was hard in a second and I stroked myself with my right hand while trying to jam the big dildo in my hole with my left hand. Stroking my dick, I kind of fantasized Patrick was shoving his dick in my hole and actually yelled out when I managed to get the head in past my hole.

"Ung, oh God," I moaned as I slowly pushed more of it into me.

I had to throw the magazine away. When I spewed my load, I covered this page of these two kind of trashy looking women making out with each other.

After I licked the page clean, I pulled the dildo out of my ass and cleaned it off in the bathroom sink. Then, still naked as day I was born, I did my homework, then fixed dinner and put my uniforms into the dryer.

Leaving the next morning, I saw Jamal and asked him if I should bring anything to the barbeque. He told me Tiffany had it; that told me right there he wasn't one to ask, Tiffany was.

She told me bring some dessert so I made my mom's chocolate pudding cake. It's super easy; you just make a regular cake, then make some chocolate pudding and you just smear the pudding all over the cake, like icing. I made the cake the night before and stuck it in the fridge, so it'd be good and cold the next day.

I walked across the drive to their trailer at one o'clock and Jamal hadn't even started the charcoal yet. I met his mom and step-dad; they was real nice people. Karen, his mom was a blonde, like Tiffany and Chelsea. Oh yeah, Chelsea was there but Chad wasn't there. Jamal's step-dad, Walter Dumuns was this large man with light skin but big grayish Afro hairstyle.

"Yeah, Lynette's in Mishayla's room; whenever her Auntie come over, Mishayla got show her all her toys," Karen said and took another drink of her beer.

Jamal and Walter went outside to start up the grill and I kind of stood there, feeling like an outsider while Tiffany and Chelsea and Karen talked shit about men and their men in general.

"Oh! Not you," Chelsea said real quick when she remembered I was standing right there.

"He got a dick? Then, yeah, he a dog too," Karen laughed.

Lynette picked that moment come in, Mishayla right behind her. I looked and smiled.

Lynette Dumuns had been a cheerleader at my old school. She was a real pretty black girl, but like my mom would have said, she had a lot of cream in her coffee. I mean, you could tell she was black, but she wasn't real dark, and her hair was kind of straight, hanging down to her shoulders.

Know what? I don't know if that's racist or insulting, to say a black person's got a lot of cream in their coffee. I guess I'd be kind of insulted if someone asked me if I had some nigger blood in me, so maybe it is insulting to say a black person's got some white in them. Even if their momma's white.

"A'en!" Mishayla yelled and came over to hug my legs.

"Aaron," I said. Aar-ron."

I picked Mishayla up and gave her a big noisy hug and a big noisy kiss and put her down. I then looked at Lynette.

"I know you," she said. "Aw damn, used hang with, aw, what their names, man!"

"Todd and Brandon?" I said. "Yeah, but then I moved."

"That's them!" she agreed. "Man! Know you heard what happened them right?"

"No," I said, shaking my head.

Turned out Todd and Brandon had tried slipping some date rape drug into some girl's milk at school. One of her friend's saw them do it and ran and told a teacher.

"No shi...kidding?" I asked.

"See? Ain't nothing but dogs," Karen laughed.

By the time Jamal and Walter brought in the burned chicken and smoked sausages, we were all starving. We ate it all, even Chelsea's nasty ass macaroni salad.

My cake didn't have a chance; my mom would have told them to leave the pattern on that plate.

"You made that?" Lynette asked as she scraped the last of it in her pretty mouth.

"Uh huh, and girl? He and Mishayla made some banana pancakes," Tiffany enthused.

So I had a date with a black cheerleader for next Saturday. We both had school during the week and she had a football game for Friday night.

"And no," Mr. Walter said, no smile on his huge face. That date ain't showing her back seat of your momma's car neither, hear?"

"Yes sir," I said.

I picked Lynette up at their apartment. Again, Mr. Walter got in my face and told me I better give his baby girl respect. I told him I would.

"Good, 'cause boy? I'll be out that jail long before you out the hospital, hear?" he told me.

"Shit, Walter," Karen laughed. "Let that white boy alone,"

Lynette and me went bowling. I suck at bowling, but ever since getting out on my own, I been doing some weight lifting and it kind of shows. So I was doing pretty good. But then some assholes next lane over started some shit about 'niggers' and 'nigger lovers' so we left.

We had a banana split and then went to my trailer and made out. I'm pretty sure I could have fucked Lynette, but this was really my first date ever and I didn't know what to do or how to go any further than kissing and touching her titties, which weren't really very big, by the way.

At her momma's door, I gave Lynette a soft kiss good night. The door swung open and Mr. Walter was standing there, looking scary in his tee shirt and briefs. His tidy whities were not very white and his tee shirt was all torn up too.

"Hi, Mr. Dumuns," I said. "I uh, I hope it's all right with you if I see Lynette next Saturday?"

"Up to her," he said, voice low and mean. "Baby girl? He treat you good?"

Right in front of her dad, Lynette kissed me. Then she told her dad I had been a good boy. He glared at me and nodded his head.

Our next date, I suggested a movie. Lynette suggested we go back to my trailer and fuck.

I was terrified of her dad, but my cock wasn't. We went back to my trailer.

As far as I know, no other woman ever went into my mom's bedroom, other than my mom and my sisters Amy and Angela and Andrea. So, Lynette was the first woman to ever go into that room.

"See you know how make a bed," she complimented.

That was one thing about my mom. She made us make our beds every morning. Didn't make sense to me; you just going mess it all up again. But now, I prefer a nice neat bed.

Just like last time, we did a lot of kissing. Lynette wasn't wearing a bra; she had kind of small titties and they felt nice as I squeezed them.

Then she just gets out of her jeans and I'm looking at my first real pussy. I mean, yeah, I'd seen my mom's pussy and Amy's pussy before. But that was real quick like, you know, they're getting out the shower and I walk in, needing piss real bad.

Lynette lay there on my bed and waited. I just stared at her pretty pussy, wondering what I should do now.

"Uh, just going look?" she finally said, real pissed off sounding.

I told her the truth. Shit, other than Gary and the driver fucking me, and blowing Patrick and getting blown by him, I'm a virgin. No, I didn't tell her all that shit, just told her I was a virgin.

So, Lynette made me take off my clothes. When I pulled my boxers down, she kind of got this real surprised look on her face. Then she knelt on the bed and grabbed my dick in her hands.

"Damn! This, damn!" she said then started licking my dick like it was a lollypop.

Then she swung around and all of a sudden, I got her pussy right there, right in front of my face. I can see her lips kind of sticking out and they're nice and wet and pink. Her black pussy hair's real short; she told me later that she trimmed it for our date.

I'd read a few stories in my mom's Hustler magazines, guys writing in to the magazine and talking about their girlfriends or these sluts they'd picked up and fucked. I kind of figured, that little ball looking thing at the top of her slit must be Lynette's clit so I started licking at that, licking up and down her lips.

It was a weird taste. I don't mean it was a bad taste, just weird. Kind of sweat. You know, like if you licked someone's arm pit or something.

We both blasted at the same time. And I know, guys talk about girls faking it. Lynette was not faking it. She screamed and my face got real wet. Problem is, when she screamed? My dick started blowing my load right at that moment. She got a big face full of my sperm.

My mom didn't like no one in her bathroom. After her death, I kind of figured out, it must have something to do with the waterproof dongs she had underneath the sink, and that high powered shower head. The shower head was on a hose, so you could pull it down and aim it. I like aiming it, when it's on fast pulsing massage, right at my balls. I whack off while the hot water's hitting my balls.

Anyway, Lynette got my spunk in her hair, so, she got into my shower. A minute later, she called out and asked me to come scrub her back.

When I got into the shower with her, she smiled and dropped the soap. She bent over to pick the soap up and wiggled her butt at me.

"Oh God damn! Mother fucker, that, God damn, you big," she said as I pushed my dick into her.

Patrick's mouth was nice and wet and warm. Lynette's mouth was nice and wet and warm too. Honestly? I think Patrick gave a better blow job than Lynette. But Lynette's pussy was unbelievable. Her pussy just kind of wrapped around my dick, nice and tight and hot.

"Oh, hey, wait," I said. "Shit, condom. I need get a condom."

"Shit, you don't need no condom; I'm already preggers," Lynette grunted. "Just fuck me."

I was glad I already blasted a load on her. I hadn't? Ain't no way I'd been able to fuck her for as long as I did?

"Your daddy know you pregnant?" I asked after we got out the shower.

"Yeah," Lynette said. "Oh man! He was some mad, hear?"

"Then why's he all up in my face?" I wondered.

"White boy, just 'cause someone else already hit it, don't mean he's wanting everybody hit it," Lynette said, like I was some kind of dumb ass.

When I dropped her off, after we'd fucked a third time, Lynette agreed we'd go out the next Friday; they didn't have any football game that week.

Sunday morning, Amy called me and invited me over to her trailer for lunch. I'd already done my homework; can you believe that, they give us homework for the weekend?

Amy was real happy to see me and hugged me real tight, pressing her huge boobs against me. As usual, she wasn't wearing any bra under her tee shirt, so I can feel all of her boobs as she hugs me.

Andrew was also real happy to see me and was just talking a mile a minute. Amy smiled real happy as she listened to the two of us chattering back and forth.

The whole time I was there, Amy kept touching me. I mean, my arm, my shoulder, my back, my leg. She especially kept touching my hair and telling me she liked it short like that.

After we ate; she's turning into a pretty good cook, we sat on the couch to watch one of Andrew's favorite television shows and Amy leaned against me, pushing them huge boobs into me.

She gave me a soft, wet kiss on my cheek. When I turned to ask her what her problem was, she gave me a nice, soft, wet kiss on my lips. Then she smiled and put her head on my shoulder.

I put my arm around my twin's shoulder and she settled against me. After a few minutes, Andrew crawled up into my lap, kicking his legs over Amy's legs. For the next ten minutes, we sat quietly, watching a really stupid show. It was a real nice moment; the three of us, a happy family.

I had supper with them. Amy made me 'pay' for my supper by bathing Andrew. I put him in his cowboy pajamas and read him the story of Cinderella.

"He go down for you, Trey?" Amy said after I left Andrew's bedroom.

She was already ready for bed, dressed in just a tee shirt and panties. The tee shirt was real short and I could see her belly button. I could also see the dark hair of her pussy through the panties.

"Uh huh," I smiled.

"I'm glad you come over," Amy whispered, rubbing my arm.

"Yeah, me too," I said.

"I miss you, Trey," she said, real soft.

At the door, she kissed me and wrapped her arms around me. So, her boobs are smashed against me. We kissed a few times before she finally let go of me and walked away. I looked at her nice, tight looking butt, then left.

On Thursday, Lynette called me and said she'd gotten back together with the baby daddy. I wished her well. I guess I could have been a dick about it, but really, she's pregnant? Like I want be running around after someone else's brat?

Patrick's mom had posted his bail so he was waiting for me when I got home from school on Friday. Because of the drugs, he got expelled from school. He said he didn't care; school sucks anyway.

In my kitchen, we drank a couple of Fantas while he told me about jail.

Most of it sounded like bullshit, typical bragging shit, like he was some bad ass whole time he'd been in jail. My sister Amy could beat the shit out of Patrick, so I really didn't believe him when he said he'd managed to kick the asses of three guys.

He wanted to know if I had any weed; he wanted to smoke. I told him I don't do that shit. It's not because I'm such a holy roller or anything; I just don't like the way weed makes me feel. I feel stupid enough without help.

Well, the friendship was over; if I didn't have weed, then Patrick didn't have any use for me. Truthfully? Wasn't really sorry to see him go.

Saturday night, Amy called and asked me to come over. I'd already done all my homework, I'd already done all my washing, I'd even cleaned my place. So I went over there.

Andrew was really talking a lot now. He looked a lot like me when I was almost three years old, same blonde hair, same adorable smile. But because he had a 'Mommy' that wasn't busting her ass with two or three kids and a part time job and a string of customers, he was a lot smarter than I was at that age.

He and I did some finger paints at the kitchen table while Amy cooked supper. She'd bought some cauliflower pizza crusts at the grocery's and was making us some pizzas.

"What's that?" I asked, looking at Andrew's creation.

"That's you and Mommy," he smiled. "And here's me, in my truck."

"That's me?" Amy asked, pointing to one purple blob.

"Uh huh, and here's my truck," Andrew said.

"He's been calling me 'Mommy' a whole bunch lately," Amy said quietly into my ear.

"Makes sense; you're being a mommy to him," I agreed.

"And he keeps asking why you don't live here with us," Amy went on as she put the first pizza into the oven.

"Oh, well, I uh, I got school, Buddy. And my trailer's close to my school," I explained.

After supper, we watched some television. Then I had to bathe Andrew. We'd made a pretty good mess with the finger paints.