Other People's Drama Ch. 02

"What did her parents say?"

"Her mother wasn't happy - but did eventually accept things. Truth is, we never laid a hand on each other, until she turned eighteen."

They are staring at me intently, perhaps now seeing me in a different light.

"I can't really tell you how it happened, but I did fall madly in love, and have never been as happy, as I was for those two years..."

Morgan reaches out, takes my hand, and squeezes it.

"Sex, in itself, isn't a bad thing - it's the messed-up reasons we are using to have it, that are..."

Big sister gets it.

"If you want to have a thing with an older guy," I watch as a devious little smile forms on Morgan's face, "then find a guy who truly wants to be with you. Not some married guy who just wants a good piece of ass, to keep on the side, or some flashy business executive, who just wants another conquest to brag about. If you are truly serious about this, talk to your mom, tell her what's going on in your head - she'll listen, and I think she might surprise you."

"And you..." I turn my attention to Riley, "If you are gonna do it, do it because if feels good, and you enjoy it, you dumbass. Not because you want to be the most popular girl at the party. If you're gonna be a slut, find a way to use guys, rather than letting them use you.

Riley nods at me, and lets the smallest of grins break on her face.

"And you," I turn and look at our resident cheerleader, still standing in the hall, her arms crossed in front of her, "you..."

"Relax," she blurts out, in the middle of my sentence. "I have these two," she laughs, and points at her sisters, "as perfect examples of how not to be!"

Instantly, the three of them are laughing.

"I'm not the sex police, and I'm not one of your parents. I'm not going to tell any of you not to have sex, or try to share the 'evils of sex' in an effort to intimidate you. Personally, I don't think you need to be doing it, at this point in your lives. Based on your history, you have enough shit to worry about, without adding sex to the list. But if you are going to, at least use some common sense, and for God's sake, protect yourselves."

We spend the rest of the evening, talking. All four of us. Riley is right - Bailey is one very smart young lady, although she tries to hide that fact. At around 8:30 pm, I call Kirsten at work and tell her I'm taking her kids out for pizza. When I get nothing but silence from the phone, I laugh and hang up. Before the evening is over, I've managed to get myself neck-deep into someone else's drama - again.

******

It took four phone calls, and three days, to convince Morgan's - 'madame' we'll call her - to see things my way. It didn't hurt that Max and Jason were standing behind me, when I made the suggestion. One looks like a redwood tree, and the other like a locomotive. They both give the impression that they would just as soon kill you, as look at you - something they have both done.

I patiently, and succinctly, explained to 'Miss Miller' (who actually had a legitimate realty company) that it was in her best interest to let Morgan walk - no questions asked - and to never even speak to Riley. When she got cocky, and summoned her 'security' guys (translated as enforcers), and they saw who they would have to deal with, it was quite obvious that they didn't really want to pick a fight. It didn't hurt that I showed her a photo of a few of my other friends as well...

Just before I left, I pointed out that I didn't expect to hear any nasty rumors - anywhere - about Morgan's involvement with her business. The look on my face was enough to make my point.

Ex-military one - madame zero.

******

I continue seeing Kirsten, with the blessings (*laughs*) of her kids, which under the circumstances, is totally comical.

Truth is, a couple of them are going to become problems...

You see, they aren't ready to let me escape their individual dramas just yet. But then, I did sorta create the monsters.

Over time, Morgan becomes a bit fixated on the 'older guy' thing. She spent two years exposed to thirty and forty-something men, and she got hooked on the attention. She does eventually talk to her mother about it, and although Kirsten freaks out a bit, she realizes that forbidding a twenty-year-old from doing something, would only complicate the situation.

I spend the next two months, having numerous, strange conversations with each of the three of them (I'm not their parent - just a 'friend' - so it's apparently easier to talk to me) and finally decide that, unless she is an amazing actress, Bailey's the only one with any sense.

Morgan inevitably becomes frustrated, because she can't seem to find an interested older guy, she is comfortable with. She finds any number thirty-something guys who are willing to 'hook-up' with a 'hot college co-ed', but none that want to be seriously involved with her. When she finally comes to me, I get nervous.

"Morgan, you're twenty. Most of the guys you are chasing, are either looking for wives, or sex. Period. And, unfortunately, you can only fill one of those positions at this point in your life. While not impossible, the chances that an established thirty or forty-something guy, would even consider marrying a twenty-year-old college kid, is really slim to none."

"Why can't I be lucky, like Lilli was, and find someone like you?"

"Let's clarify. I'm not your average guy. Your chances of encountering someone as weirdly dysfunctional, and totally screwed up as me, are very slim. Second, if you do find someone to date, you will find yourself where Lilli and I found ourselves, eventually."

"I know..." she replies, with a good bit of apprehension.

"Give yourself some time. Who knows - maybe while you are finishing college, you'll find yourself involved with some amazing guy in his thirties or forties. You might even fall in love. And... once you graduate, the chances an older guy will pursue you, get exponentially better."

"What about now?"

The pleading look in her big brown eyes just about crushes me, which shows just how damn dysfunctional I really am. I will spend eternity being pissed off at myself for not telling her 'no' on the spot. Perhaps I too, am looking for something. Something I once had...

Unfortunately, I do eventually, crack - the girl is simply too damn beautiful, and far too willing, for any sane male to tell her 'no'. At her insistence, I finally agree to 'date' her. I explain that while I can show her what it's like to be in an honest relationship with an older guy, it will be on a very limited basis. I am, after all, still seeing her mother - something she doesn't seem to care about. When I tell her that 'dating' will require a sexual aspect (hoping to scare her off), she smiles and says, "That could be fun."

It is soon apparent, that she is after something more than dating, but I know it's something that I am not willing to give her.

Because I'm seeing her mother, we tend to be rather secretive about things, for the first thirty days. I end up taking her on two different business trips with me, giving her the chance to behave however she wants, without the fear of scrutiny or judgement, in an environment where no one knows either of us. Although she has fun with it, she is still quite reserved, and perhaps, even uncomfortable. Dating an 'older guy' is different in the real world, and is far more challenging, than just screwing one, behind closed doors, in a hotel room, which I think she finally discovers. I'm fairly certain that, eventually, she will get bored with 'us', and will move on. I find myself hoping it's sooner, rather than later.

Although I'm certain that Kirsten wonders about all these goings on, she always gives me her blessing where the girls are concerned, and she never questions any of it. I often find myself looking at her, and thinking, 'if only you knew...'

Mostly, I believe Kirsten is just grateful that her daughters' behavior, seems to have turned around - regardless of what may have caused it.

Riley... well... she's another story. She admits that she has had a lot of sex, with a lot of guys, over the last three years, and thus, the path she has traveled, has turned her into an insatiable little slut. Unfortunately, unless she is locked away somewhere, I don't think it's something she will ever be free of. Over time, it seems the girl has developed an honest love of sex, and of being with a guy. Once she discovered a true orgasm (self-inflicted the first time), her needs and desires, only got worse.

It's quite obvious that had she fallen into prostitution she would never have escaped.

In an effort to keep her celibate for a while, I get her a high-end vibrator, and an intermediate sized dildo, which she keeps hidden. I figure that masturbating, isn't nearly as bad, as the possibility she might go back to her old ways.

Unfortunately, the toys aren't able to curb her teenage lust. About a month later, she turns up at my house (yes, all three of them know where I live), looking totally depressed, and exasperated. She explains in her own special way, that she really needs to find a guy - even if it has to be the same guy, all the time. I subtly ask if she honestly believes she can find a guy her age, who can keep up with her. She laughs, and uses eighteen-year-old logic - and that damn tantalizing little body - on me. After she points out, with a devious little sneer, that she is far more experienced than most guys her age, she explains that it makes much more sense to have a secret relationship with me - just for sex - than to hook up with a guy from school. After all, a high school guy would undoubtedly blab about his conquest, or whine about her always being horny. If she tried a college guy, she runs the risk she might end up in a frat house, which very well could lead to her going back to her old ways.

In an attempt to poke a hole in her idea, I point out that, although it isn't technically 'illegal', society - and probably her mother as well - tend to frown on eighteen-year-olds, fucking thirty-six-year-olds.

She laughs, then says, "Yeah, and that just means you damn sure aren't going to say anything. And... if I win this argument, I'm damn sure not gonna say anything either." Then, as an afterthought, she adds, "Besides, you're the one who told me to use guys, instead of letting myself be used..."

Me and my big mouth.

I stand my ground for about a month, but constantly seeing her dressed to advertise, in her hip-hugger jeans, her halter tops, and any number of absurdly short skirts, as well as her continued persistence (damn near daily), I do inevitably, crack. Yeah... that's right... an eighteen-year-old made me cave. I suck... I know...

So, two months into the thing with her sister (which she both knows about, and apparently doesn't care about), I end up in an every-so-often sexual relationship with Riley. I ask her if she is still using birth control, and she says she never stopped. I tell her that the biggest rule is no sex with anyone, except me - period.

She laughs, and counters with, "You're screwing Morgan, aren't you?"

"Yes," I reply, "but she is only screwing me. I'd rather not bring anything nasty into all this. Might be hard to explain why we all three caught the same thing, and then your mom got it as well..."

I know she catches my comment, but apparently, not even the fact I am still screwing her mother, is going to be enough to deter the girl.

With a laugh, she final concedes. I also tell her, that it's just about sex -we're just 'fucking' for the sake of it - again, trying to make a point. I get another laugh in response.

"It doesn't seem as disgusting calling it that, when I know it's gonna be with you," is her smart-ass reply.

Just as I was with Lilli, I am completely taken with the girl - I can't help myself. I know I should tell her to forget the entire thing, and send her home. But I can't. For the second time in my life, some part of me won't allow me to see the eighteen-year-old I know she is.

******

Riley turns up, two days later, and as usual, is dressed to advertise. She's wearing a halter top that stops right under her boobs, and is struggling to contain them. Below that, is a denim skirt, that is so low on her hips, one would almost expect to see pubic hair. And, it's insanely short - if it's more than eighteen inches, hem to hem, I'd be surprised. God... I love the girl's legs...

It turns out, she isn't the least bit apprehensive, or shy. Even as I am closing the front door, she undresses right in the middle of the living room. The first time I see her, totally nude, my fucking heart stops.

Pristine - immaculate - unblemished - chaste - perfect - and a shit load of other adjectives I can't remember at the moment, all flood into my head. It takes less time for Riley to capture me, than it took Lilly - probably because I'm not fighting it. Before I even touch her, in some strange fashion, Riley owns me.

I'm a bit different than a lot of guys, in that I'm not big on the classic definition of a 'flawless' woman, although I use the word a lot. Flawless means different things, to different people - for me, that's Riley. Just like the rest of us, Riley has her issues - and I love every one of them. She is a remarkable copper color, head to toe, and has not a single tan line on her. Benefits of living in Florida. Her ass is what a lot of picky guys would call 'a bit big'. In reality, it's just not slim, trim, and racy, or tight and muscular - like Bailey's cheerleader butt. While she is nowhere near being overweight, the girl has some meat on her. And, although she is eighteen, she still has some 'baby fat' around her midsection. She's plump - and I love every bit of it. I can stare at her ass in jeans, or shorts, all day long. Her thighs and legs are proportionate to the rest of her, and are also a bit more toned.

Then, there are her superbly classic tits. They look like they should be in the dictionary, next to 'impeccable'. 34D, easily - maybe even an E. Perfect droop (or sag as some guys call it), and nipples so dark you can barely separate them from areola, or the tit itself.

Her short hair is usually just there. She likes to turn her pigtails into these messy buns, on each side of her head. Today, however, she has the cutest pigtails, sticking straight up, held in place with bright red ribbons.

The thing that makes Riley a bit different from her sisters, is that she has these chillingly hypnotic, hazel eyes. Stare at them for more than a few seconds, and you will lose yourself in them.

I drop onto one of the dining room chairs, unable to tear my eyes away from the most transcendent thing I have ever seen - including Lilli's body. It takes a few moments, but when her tears come, I notice them immediately. I hold out a hand to her, she walks over and takes it, stepping between my knees, stopping at the edge of the chair's seat. The first thing I do, is lean forward, and gently kiss her perfectly pudgy little tummy, making her giggle.

"I thought you were disappointed," she says, running her fingers through my hair.

"Impossible," I reply, flatly.

"I've been thinking about this... well... forever."

I gently rub her stomach, letting my fingers wander over her hips, and down her thighs. It's almost as if I'm afraid to touch her, for fear I might break her. She smiles at me, takes my right hand, lays it over her left breast, and makes me squeeze it. Yes, my heart races.

I push her back, stand, and after taking her hand, lead her to the bedroom. Once there, I lay her in the middle of my king size bed, take a seat next to her, and again, just stare at her. Then, on impulse, I start gently massaging, and kneading her tits. Once I have given them a fair amount of attention, I let my hand wander down across her stomach, over her hips, not stopping until my fingers are gently manipulating her soft, hairless mound. Without a word, she spreads her legs, willing my hand in between them.

I delicately caress her labia, listening as her breathing becomes faster. When I slip a single finger into her crease, I am rewarded with a deeply passionate moan. When that same finger finds her inner labia, her knees come up. Knowing what she wants, with two fingers, I begin finger-fucking her... in, out... in, out... calmly, slowly, methodically. This isn't about orgasms - this is about taunting her... tormenting her... torturing her. Thirty seconds later, I can't help myself - I pull my fingers out, and stick them into my mouth, sucking every delicious drop of her off of them.

Then, the male in me takes over, and I feel my hormones rage. I no longer see a girl half my age. She has become a hot, desirable, sensuous, voluptuous body, that I desperately want to use. I feel my cock growing, bent in some strange fashion, as it tries to fight its way out of my jeans. I stand, take off everything I'm wearing, freeing my manhood, and giving Riley a glimpse of what I intend to use on her. In mere seconds, my face is buried between her soft, smooth, thighs.

The moment my tongue finds her sticky, wet, opening, another moan escapes her mouth, and her back arches, pushing her pussy into my waiting mouth. I'm like a man possessed. I have no idea how long I work to orally destroy her puffy, wet mound, but when her time arrives, she makes sure I know it.

"god... god... oh shit... oh god... yes... yes... fuck... fuuuuccck..." she mumbles, followed by a loud scream. Seconds later, her thighs squeeze my head, as if she is trying to pop it. I refuse to let it deter me. I find her clit, and concentrate on it alone... licking, sucking, biting, rubbing. She again screams, grabs me by my hair, and tries to push me away.

"oh god Lucas... Lucas... stop... please... let it end... please..."

I persist. When her orgasm begins to peak a second time, she starts sobbing.

"please..." she mumbles, "please... *sob* oh damn... please...*sob*"

When I feel her thighs relax, and their grip on my head loosen, I know she has conceded. I continue until her small body goes completely limp, then lift my head, my face now covered in her warm, sticky juices. I grab her ankles and pull her legs down, so that she is once again flat on the bed. Then I pull myself up alongside her, resting my head on my hand, and watching her face. As she struggles to control both her tears, and her breathing, I go back to her amazing tummy. I begin rubbing and kneading it, completely engrossed in its near perfection. Eventually, she begins to giggle.

"That kinda tickles," she says, putting a hand over mine. Then, as an afterthought, asks, "Do you think I'm fat?"

"You're short. You're plump. But, best of all, you are perfect - to these eyes. I love every inch of this spectacular body."

"o... m... g..." Riley mumbles, rolling over on top of me, then sitting up, and straddling me. With a sultry little smirk on her face, starts grinding her sticky slit, against my semi-soft dick. It doesn't take long, for her to get the results she is after.

She leans forward, grabs my now raging cock, and lines it up with her waiting pussy. Then, with just a simple push, I fill her.

"Slowly?" I ask, giving her a pleading look.

She smiles, and in seconds is gently and meticulously sliding up and down my over-agitated member. Being inside her feels so erotic, that I have to concentrate on not becoming a 'high school boy', and simply losing my load. Even as my heart races, and my trapped cock pulses, I force myself to think away the building orgasm.

It's apparent that she knows what she is doing - whether that is good or bad, is totally subjective. I am mesmerized by her tits, as they bounce up and down in unison with her movements. I am lost in watching her facial expressions, as she moves and adjusts her position, in an effort to ensure she gets as much out of each thrust, as I do.