Raoul's 18th Birthday Ch. 01

"A few weeks, I guess."

"See? It's intentional."

"If I bring you, they'll let you in."

"No. I don't want to be there if I'm not wanted. You go, though. I bet Scarlett has a present planned for you. Probably her mom too."

"We'll see," he shrugs. "I think you should come with me. Just for fun."

He doesn't mind Shona, or anyone else, feeling jealous. In his experience, women's jealousy leads to better sex.

"No."

"Well, you want to join me for breakfast then?"

"No. I'll leave before your sisters catch me here."

"They don't hate you, Shona."

"I know," she taps his nose playfully. "But I want this to be our little secret, okay? Someone else is going to think she was the first girl to fuck you today, but only you and me will know the truth, right?"

"Fine with me."

"Good."

"But we didn't actually fuck."

Shona beams at him.

"You can't get enough, can you, sailor?"

"Grab a condom," he winks, "lube up, and climb aboard, matey."

6

Holding her tiny waist, he watches her perky little breasts vibrate from the impact of their bodies as she rides his cock.

Other than being too short, he is exactly his kind of woman (at this stage of his life). She's exotic (three quarters Mexican and one quarter Chinese), skinny, cheerful, confident, clever, eager, not too jealous, and above all, she wants almost nothing from him except the honor of pleasing him.

"Oh, fuck, Sho," he rumbles. "Oh, fuck, you're so fucking hot."

In response, she squeezes her tits and moans.

He stops her, sits up.

"Get on your hands and knees," he tells her.

He stands behind her while she crawls backwards on his bed, raising her hips to him.

"Hell, yeah," he exults, taking her hips in her hands. She guides his cock into her pussy as he grunts, "Oh, fuck!"

He pounds away, grunting and slamming his body into her hips as she moans.

Then he takes a handful of her hair and pulls her head back, forcing her back to arch even further.

She feels used, and she loves it. It satisfies something deep and primal. He somehow knows, senses, just how far to push her so that she feels taken, dominated, desired, devoured.... She relaxes, submits, feels her body begin to quake uncontrollably. She seems to be floating somewhere, he's going harder and harder, and something is building inside her, and then —

An immense release, like a huge ocean wave, lifts her, carries her so high, then drops her on his bed. All her emotion, need, everything just drains away, and she collapses, exhausted and completely satisfied.

After only a moment to clean himself, he spoons her tightly. His huge arms enfold her, which is wonderful, but she almost doesn't even care. He's emptied her out.

Shona's a beautiful woman. He's not the only hot guy man she's been with. And some of them try very hard for her.

But somehow Raoul does things to her that other men don't even seem to know about.

7

Some time later, she doesn't know how long — she must've fallen asleep — he tells her he's hungry, asks if she wants breakfast.

"No, I should go anyway. You have a busy day ahead of you," she teases.

He smirks his cheeky smirk at her, pats her on the bottom. "But you were the first."

"Our secret."

"I won't tell if you don't."

"Oh, I'm telling," she promises. "But you can't."

"My sisters will know."

"I don't care if they know. I just don't want your other little friends to know."

"Well, none of my little friends will be at breakfast either."

But she knows better than to overstay her welcome. She's managed to stay with Raoul all these years, maybe she's even his number one girl, while he's discarded dozens of others, some even hotter than she is, and she's determined never to make herself a nuisance to him.

He watches her pull her white panties on, then her bright red bra.

How small her tits are, she thinks, unable to believe he likes them as much as he says he does. But seeing him watch her dress, seeing his happy boyish smirk, she smiles. He really does seem to like them.

Feeling so good, she decides to reward him by unnecessarily and ostentatiously bending over to pull on her skirt. Hearing him exhale appreciatively sends electric tingles throughout her body, and for a moment she's tempted to try to take him again. But she resists. Pulling her t-shirt on, she waves and walks toward the door.

He jumps up from the bed to give her a kiss goodbye, bending down to reach her lips. She wraps her arms around his neck and with one hand he picks her up by the ass, holding her under her skirt, pressing her back against the wall and kissing her passionately. She wraps her legs around his waist and praises God in her heart.

It won't be long till he's ready to go again, but she wants him to miss her, so she says, "Goodbye, Raoul." He gives her ass cheek a hard squeeze and puts her down.

She leaves by the back door. As usual, she parked in the alley, hoping not to be noticed. She walks to her car in the cool morning air, feeling that familiar blend of privilege, gratitude, sadness, and longing.

She hopes he feels something like that too — she hopes that, no matter who fucks him today, he'll remember her as the special one.

Raoul watches her go, watches her hips swing as she walks. What an amazing woman, he thinks, grateful that she surprised him and grateful that she's so willing to leave him to other girls and women.

When he first moved his family to Los Angeles, he chose this house with this fact in mind: what would be his bedroom has its own door to a side yard, from which he can access the garage, the front yard and main street, or the back yard and alley, all without being easily observed by anyone in the rest of the house.

Sure, he was happy to reunite, finally, with his family, but years of living in a boarding school had taught him the value of discreet ingress and egress. Plus, there's a swimming pool with a sun shelf in the backyard, rendering their house even more attractive as a hangout for pretty young ladies.

Pulling on some "jams" and a tank top, he goes down to breakfast.

His twins are already up. Like him, they are early risers.

"Morning, Big," Sam says and Reza adds, "Hey." They're overacting: he can tell they know something about what has been happening in his room.

He hugs them, squeezing each with one arm. "Happy birthday, girls."

"Yeah, happy birthday!" they smile up at him.

Then, not letting go of them, he asks if they saw Shona leave.

"No," Sam says. "Was she here?"

Raoul smirks down at her mischievously, so Reza explains, "You know we can't keep track of all the women in your harem."

Dismissing their artifice with a chuckle, he sits at the table and opens The New York Times. A moment later Sam puts a large cup of hot coffee in front of him.

"Thank you."

"Omelette?" she asks.

"Sounds great. Do we have any of Lin's bread left?" Their older sister has been baking homemade sourdough whole grain bread lately, to everyone's delight.

"She made more yesterday."

"Toast then, too, if you don't mind, and the raspberry preserves."

"How about a canteloup?" Reza asks.

"That'd be great too. Thank you."

Moments later she places a small plate in front of him with the melon already cut up, and she refills his coffee, patting his shoulder. Before he's finished with it, the omelette arrives — six eggs, feta, gouda, spinach, two kinds of mushrooms, onion, and bell pepper.

"Oh, goodness," he exclaims, delighting Sam.

"You like it?"

"Marvelous."

Reza feels just a little jealous. "Goes well with the canteloup?"

"Definitely," he says, reassuring her.

"I'll get you some granola and yoghurt," she says to thank him.

"That'd be wonderful, too."

So she prepares a bowl with yoghurt, granola, strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, and molasses, and presents it to him about the time he's finished with his omelette. Meanwhile Sam has refilled his coffee and poured him a tall glass of orange juice.

Raoul's appetite is legendary. The women in his life seem to work in shifts to keep him fed.

While serving him, the girls find time to eat, too, but they eat maybe a quarter of what he does.

As he continues to read, they clean up the kitchen and chat about who'll be at the party later, who they hope to see and who's got a crush on whom and so on.

"I've told you before," Raoul interrupts at one point, "if you want me to tell Jeremy that you like him, I will."

"And I've told you," Reza turns on him, "To keep your mouth shut."

"He's never going to ask you out unless Raoul says it's okay," Sam sighs. "He's too scared."

"He should be," Raoul confirms. "But if you like him, I would let him date you. As long as he treats you well."

"You should leave him alone," Reza snaps. "He's a good guy. Girls don't sneak in and out of his house at all hours of the day and night."

"We don't know that," Raoul warns. "But we could find out."

As Reza rolls her eyes, Lin wanders in, still rubbing sleep out of one eye.

"This bread," he tells her, "is fantastic."

She smiles.

"Thank you. I'm going to try making homemade butter too."

"Wow," he says, shaking his head as if bewildered. "I can't wait."

Then he turns back to his reading. She checks his coffee mug and intends to fetch him more, but the pot is empty.

Annoyed — Lin needs coffee as much as anyone, she turns on the twins. "Did you give him any grapefruit?"

"He's barely finished his omelette," Sam protests; Reza adds, "and his granola."

"Well, duh." Lin scolds. "He's out of coffee too."

"It's fine," Raoul assures them, but a moment later Lin puts a plate of grapefruit slices in front of him, and he smiles appreciatively. Then she massages his back while he reads.

"Oh, that's nice," he says.

"Happy birthday, little brother," she says, kissing him on the cheek.

"Thank you."

Then she tells the twins. "You guys too."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam teases. "Did you buy us anything?"

This is a joke because Raoul's family has a "no buying presents" policy. There are too many of them and not enough money.

"I made you bread!" Lin objects.

"You do that for yourself," Reza says.

Sam adds, "And for Raoul. The birthday boy gets homemade bread. But Cinder and Ella here, what do we get?"

"Oh, shut up," Lin tells them. "Or you won't get any more bread. Cinder and Ella, my butt."

His twins join her rubbing his back. He's so wide at the shoulders that there's three for all three of the girls to work on him, one on each shoulder and one in the middle. He leans forward, resting his head on the table, one arm for a pillow while they work.

Then the doorbell rings.

The girls look at each other.

"Are you expecting anyone?" Lin asks.

"No."

"Probably another one of his harem women," Reza smacks him playfully.

"Well, duh. I'm going to hide in the bathroom until I'm presentable," Lin jogs off.

"I'll get it, then," Sam says, heading out.

For a moment, it's just him and Reza rubbing his neck.

"You're alright, Reez," he says. "I really enjoy that yoghurt and granola. It's great with that honey in it."

"Thank you," she beams. "Has anyone ironed your clothes for today yet?"

"I think Ange did it last night."

"I'll make sure," she says.

"Guess who's here?" Sam sings on her way back into the kitchen, now carrying a paper bag full of groceries.

"Sandra!" Reza goes over to hug her, taking the other bag of groceries from her.

"Happy birthday!" Sandra tells them all. "I brought stuff to make huevos rancheros for you!"

"Wow, that's great!" and, "Thank you!" they reply, not telling her that they've all already eaten. They know she's primarily making them for Raoul, and he'll surely be able to eat them.

In principle, Sandra is a friend of Lin and Ange from school, but she's become a friend of the family. She's older than Raoul, probably not pretty enough for him, but hopelessly in love. At least twice a month she shows up to cook a grand Mexican dinner for Raoul, and all she gets for her work are his smiles, a hug, sometimes even a light kiss on the forehead. This is the first time she's cooked breakfast for him, but no one's really surprised.

Feeling sorry for her, his sisters make themselves scarce while she cooks so she can be alone with him for a bit.

"I've got to get myself ready for the day," Sam says, "but I'll be back in a few minutes when breakfast is ready."

"Me too," Reza says. "I can't wait."

Raoul just keeps reading his papers.

"Feliz cumpleaños," Sandra tells him from the stove. They speak to each other in Spanish.

He looks up at her. "Thank you, Sandra. It's so nice of you to cook for us."

She walks over to him, puts a hand on his huge shoulder.

"It's my pleasure," she says.

He reaches around to squeeze her arm. Almost a hug. Sandra sighs happily, but she also knows he is just being friendly. After a short moment he lets her go and picks the paper back up, so she goes back to work cooking his second breakfast.

"Where's the cutting board?" she asks after unloading the grocery bags and looking in a few cabinets.

"Oh, I don't know," he says. "You'll have to ask one of the girls."

But Sandra just looks in more cabinets, then scratches her head.

Fortunately, one of his aunts wanders into the kitchen.

"Hi, Auntie Wei," Sandra says, hugging her. His aunt is already made up for the day.

Sandra asks where the cutting board is, and his aunt shows her.

"This one was no help, was he?" Aunt Wei accuses Raoul, raising her hand as if to slap him, but he smiles at her and she hugs him and kisses his cheek with a loud "mmmmm-wha!"

"No help at all," he admits.

"Men." Sanda and Aunt Wei sigh together, hoping for his gratitude.

Raoul, finished with both the New York Times and the LA Globe, picks up the latest copy of The Economist.

Then more of the M-girls appear: his cousins Vera and Sarah, his sister Maria. (For those new to the Cock clan: Raoul has six sisters — Lin and Ange, a pair of twins born three years before him; Nita and Maria; another pair born two years before him, and his twins Sam and Reza, born seconds after him; besides them, he lives with his Aunt Wei and her four daughters Waverly, Vera, Sarah, and Yvonne; and with his great aunt Becky and her three daughters Tina, Katie, and Tarini; and finally with his maternal grandmother Neila and his paternal grandmother Rosa. For convenience, his sisters and cousins, all of whom except Sam and Reza are older than he is, are known collectively as the "M-girls," going back to a time when, as an infant, Raoul declared that they looked like a pack of broken Marlboro cigarettes.)

Whew!

Anyway, before long the kitchen is so full of girls that Raoul retreats with his reading to his bedroom, where Sam and Reza are blow-drying their hair.

"Why are you here?" Sam scolds. "She's here to see you."

"She's here to see everybody," Raoul pretends. "And they're all out there with her anyway."

"We think we saw Sherry trying to sneak in here," Sam says. "She saw us and ran off. She must've thought we didn't see her."

"Pretty sure it was Sherry," Reza puts in. "She ran off real fast."

"Poor girl," Sam sighs, "So shy. She'll never get a guy like Raoul that way." Implicitly, everyone understands, she's telling Reza not to be so shy around Jeremy.

"It's not like she hasn't been here before," Reza reminds her.

"Anyway," Raoul says, sitting on his bed and leaning back against the wall. "I'll have enough huevos rancheros to be nice, and then I'm going to work out."

"Enough to be nice," Reza laughs. "You'll eat twice that many, and you know it."

"Party starts at noon," Sam reminds him, and without looking up from the magazine he gives her the "ok" sign.

"You think Sandra's older brother ought to tell Raoul she's got a crush on him?" Reza asks rhetorically as they leave his room.

"You think anyone's making Jeremy breakfast right now?" Sam responds.

"You never know!" Raoul calls out before the door shuts.

8

Coach Jaso has given Raoul a key to the school weight room on the understanding that if he gets caught using it, he'll pretend to have stolen it. So, to be discreet, he parks his motorcycle in an alley about a block away from the school and walks in the back way, through a gap in the fence where a gate used to be.

The Essex weight room is in the football team's locker room, so no matter where he parks, Raoul has to cross the football field to get to it. And since he's there anyway, he decides to run the bleachers for a while.

After stretching a bit, he takes off up the stairs, skipping stairs on his way up, double-tapping all the stairs on his way down. After a while, he hops up and down on one leg, then the other. Then back to running. Up and down, for about twenty minutes, until he gets thirsty and heads to the locker room for some water.

Little does he know, he's been watched, and he's about to get caught.

Right when he puts his key into the doorknob, someone behind him says, "Hey!"

Turning around, he sees Coach Roberta. She was on the 1984 Olympics women's basketball team, and now she coaches at Ridgway, so they knew each other a bit. Raoul's interest in tall, thin women makes him a big fan of women's basketball, so he goes to their games whenever he can. Coach Roberta has even asked him to help out in practice a few times, which involved girls wearing spandex and tank tops trying to set screens on him.

"Hi, Coach," he smiles, hoping not to look guilty.

Coincidentally, she's also wearing spandex. He intends to check her ass out as soon as she turns her back....

"I saw you running the stairs. It looked like a good workout so I thought I'd join you."

She swings her arms to loosen up, and then, rising to her tiptoes, stretches her arms high above her head, arching her back. Forgetting for a moment that in some sense she's an authority figure, he lets his eyes wander down her body. Her black sports bra shows clearly through her cropped white t-shirt. She has a thin, tight body, with a fairly small waist, and her spandex tightly hugs the curves and crevices of her crotch and thighs.

Raoul's cock stirs a little.

If Raoul could have God create a woman to his own specifications, she would been pretty similar to Coach Roberta. Not only is she tall and thin, with curvy hips and small breasts that are probably — of course he hasn't really seen them at that time, but he's imagined them — delightfully perky, she's also confident, strong, unapologetically intelligent, and yet also cute and feminine (at least when she wants to be). She's a very caring coach, a good listener, cheerful and insightful. She knows when to be comforting and when to be demanding. She has beautiful dark skin, a narrow face with high cheekbones, and hair that springs everywhere like an expression of optimism and cheer.

Sadly, she has a boyfriend, and not just any boyfriend: a former USCLA quarterback who is now on the USCLA coaching staff. He'd even helped try to recruit Raoul. He's the only reason Coach Roberta, who's from Louisiana, is in Los Angeles.

When his eyes return to her face, she smiles and plops back down on her heels.

"But it looks like you're done running. Were you going to lift? I could join you for that too."

"You definitely could," he smiles back at her. "I'd like that very much."

She feels him laboring to keep his eyes on hers, not to look back at her body again. Flattered, she subconsciously arches her back a little, tempting him.

"Good," she says. "Let's do it!" She punches him playfully.

"There's just one little thing I need to tell you."