Sera Ch. 21

"Here we go, sweetie pie," Auntie murmured, vectoring her cart for the woman and her son as they vacated their immediate surroundings with disgust on their features. "I'll take her, you take him. Okay?"

"Okay," I toned, nodding with an outward calm as my adrenaline raced, making me feel shaky all over.

"My heavens," Auntie hissed at the woman a few moments later, her cart incidentally paused in such a way as to block their path. Glaring at the bedraggled and sickly senior, she added, "That is just unacceptable!"

Her act was so good, I almost laughed, momentarily distracted by how this snob was probably as surprised and impressed at Auntie's obvious beauty and raw presence as she was in total agreement with her attitude concerning the sexless relic who was now shuffling off to contaminate some other area. Before I knew it, her eyes were glazed and I was reminding myself that I was supposed to be seeing to her son.

Looking at him, I saw that he hadn't noticed his mummy slipping under Auntie's influence, probably hadn't had time to think of, or notice anything while he lingered on his mind's first act, that being the ogling of my boobies.

"Um, my eyes are up here."

Of course, he looked. He had to and I had to fight for focus as my nerves made me want to laugh at how easy that was. Two seconds later, he was looking at me with a vacant expression while Auntie politely addressed the woman again.

"What's your name?"

"Pamela."

"Hello, Pamela, my name is Kathleen. From here on, you're going to do whatever I say."

"I understand."

"I knew you would, hon. This is my daughter, Kitten. Say Hello to Kitten, Pamela."

"Hello, Kitten," she said.

I wanted to laugh even more at Auntie's audacity and nerve, but replied, "Hello, Pammy. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," she replied as one would expect, only with that slightly spaced out expression and tone.

"Introduce your son, Pamela," Auntie told her.

"Kathleen, Kitten, this is my son, David."

"Hi, David," I said.

"Hello," he replied.

"Hi, David," Auntie sleazed.

"Hi..."

Over the next ten minutes, we walked with them, pumping them both for the information we needed to make a memorable evening for ourselves. By the time we separated in the parking lot to follow their Navigator to their home in our Caprice, we knew their last name was Ross and that they were out picking up the things that her husband, Dan, had missed the day before. He, with her other son, Richard, was waiting at home for them to return so that they could get on with a family weekend, possibly the last one with all of them together once David and Richard went to university in the fall.

Dan, having the good sense to get into the burgeoning computer industry during the late eighties, was well enough established to pay for his sons' secondary education and maintain a very comfortable lifestyle for he and Pammy in an upper middle class, suburban home. He was forty-seven to his stay-at-home wife's forty-two years, David eighteen and Richard twenty. As for us, Auntie was a very dear old friend from Pammy's own university days who simply had to attend their family barbecue with her lovely daughter.

I'll admit it was awkward when we pulled into the driveway behind them, my head full of all the nervous giggling and laughter we'd shared amidst planning our next moves on the way there. It was almost unbearable while Pammy led us through their house and out to a large rear deck that held assorted lawn chairs, a patio swing and a huge, stainless steel barbecuer. The wooden platform stepped down to a backyard that looked at least three quarters of an acre, surrounded by a tall privacy fence and featuring a fair sized pool. The entire area was lit with those colourful patio lanterns and, in the stark white pool, the chlorinated water was a perfect, clean, clear blue.

More unnerving was meeting the man who was energetically cleaning the barbecuer when we stepped outside. Dan, a pretty fit looking guy for his age, was of average height, thin and quite attractive, as Auntie told me he would be. Her reasoning was that people like Pammy attract men of the same set, the both of them seeing each other as social trophies as much as husband and wife. It was obvious he was colouring his dark hair, but it did lend some youth to his uncompromising, almost chiseled face, the lines speaking more of character than of age. He looked good in his slightly dated, gray casual pants, but great in that black T-shirt that clung to his mildly buffed torso and upper arms. The unnerving thing about him was how he came off with the confidence that people of his financial status usually do, with that forward, brusque, salesperson attentiveness that says, "I'm a winner."

But I should have known. I mean, what man would be upset at his wife inviting the two of us? Yes, he did a double take at us, his eyes lighting up as he greeted us very warmly, shaking Auntie's hand and making the honest mistake of looking into her eyes as a gentleman should, falling to her influence right away.

If David resembled his mummy, Richard shared the dark hair, features and build of his daddy. Also like him, he looked to be just under six feet tall while his younger brother was an inch or two shorter. Standing nearby with some brochures in one hand and a can of pop in the other, his choice of clothing was cargo shorts and a baggy, light blue T-shirt with sandals, and he was easily the most attractive of the three Ross males, but not as attractive as my Stevie.

Every bit as unprepared as his daddy, I smiled, looking him purposefully and obviously in the eyes and seeing him meet that unspoken challenge like I suddenly realized a lot of people would naturally be compelled to do. He fell to me after about three seconds and I marveled at how fast Auntie was in comparison.

"I'm so pleased to meet you both," Auntie told them very politely, glancing at her 'old friend' who was standing off to the side in smiling approval before addressing me with, "Kitten, would you like to tell Dan and Richard how it is?"

"(Ahem) Danny, Richard," I began in a voice that I couldn't keep my smile out of, "from here on, you two do whatever Mummy and I tell you."

"Whatever you tell us," Dan confirmed with a nod and a far off expression.

"Richard?"

The older boy nodded, saying, "Yeah, whatever you tell us."

As he confirmed this, David came through the back door, already finished with putting away the few things they'd needed and looking with contained excitement at me and Auntie.

"All four of you will do and act as we tell you, and co-operate with us completely," I clarified, "and don't concern yourselves with anything Mummy and I talk about. Go about your business as you normally would, but make sure we have a nice time."

They agreed to this and I couldn't help a giggle as I looked at Auntie, my nerves settled a little now that we had all four family members under our influence. However, my excitement and adrenaline were still running high, still unaccustomed to this incredible power and the thought of how much naughty fun the six of us could have together.

"Anything to add, Mummy?" I giddily inquired.

"Indeed I do, sweetie pie," she smiled with flashing eyes. "Pamela, boys, go get us all something to drink, and make sure it's nice and strong. Dan's about to take us on a tour of your lovely home, ending up with the master bedroom. You three will meet us there, and don't forget the booze."

Steven

"So, lemme get this straight," Sheila said as she passed me a fresh drink at her counter. "This is what happens when two Burchells have sex? A vision?"

"Well, yeah," I answered, "but it's not just that simple. As I said, we have to cum together and we have to be looking one another right in the eyes. Me and Mum have orgasmed together lots of times without eye contact, and we've orgasmed separately with eye contact, but nothing ever happened until it was both factors combined."

" ... Hm. And you saw the same thing with Kathy?"

"No. We always go flying."

"Flying?"

"Well it's hard to explain, but we were always on the wind. Like we were the wind. There was always this simple freedom to it, nothing like this," I related as I gestured to myself. "There was no body, no limitations, or... anything. Just us and the wind, or maybe a crop or field when we'd swoop over it in just such a way..."

"I... I remember that from the vision, even though it never actually happened in the vision. How could that be?"

Nodding and taking a sip of my drink first, I explained, "You most likely got that memory from my half of us. If ya know what I mean."

"Yes. Normally, I wouldn't, but I do.... know what you mean."

"Exactly," I agreed with a smile. "There's so many things about this that can't be explained, only felt. But no, Mum and I never experienced what you and I did together. She may have experienced it with Kitten, but she hasn't mentioned it if she did."

"What do you think it means?" she asked.

"Uhh... before it happened with you, I didn't know. As usual with this, the experience was so much more than what could be related, or maybe even grasped by the human experience, that it was hard to say, but now I have... an idea."

"What?"

"I think it was the birth of what it is that's in us. But there's more to it. Both times I had the experience with Mum, I came back feeling like I had all the answers, but they slipped from my mind before I could ever realize them. It's almost like the knowledge itself isn't compatible with our human existence and beyond our ability to comprehend. Like trying to use Windows software in a Mac."

We both mulled this over while the smell of her stovetop preparations made my stomach groan.

"What makes me wonder," she said, "is how I can experience it, since I don't have the abilities the rest of you have."

"I wouldn't put too much stock in that if I were you," I told her, taking a fork from the countertop. "Your mother could get into people's dreams. So can Ashleigh, but Mum can't, at least not to my knowledge."

"Can you?"

"No."

"Kitten?"

"Not a clue," I replied, loading the fork with the stir-fried concoction in her pan and sticking it into my mouth. "But I do know that the strength and power of the parasite increases with age, so there's no guarantee I won't have the ability when I'm older. Mum may already have it without knowing, so who's to judge your capabilities? This is fucking delicious, by the way."

"Maybe you already have it without realizing as well. And get out of that, it's for something else," she said, taking the fork out of my hand and putting it back on the counter. "What about what Ashleigh did to your mother in the library that time? When she grabbed her crotch and made her all... you know."

"Yeah, I know. God, that was good, but it freaked the shit out of me too," I admitted, picking up the fork again. "Marie could do that as well. She implied that there was a lot Mum couldn't teach me, but there's a good chance she was lying, or even making an assumption. Since hearing Ashleigh's story, I can't see her as having known much more about it than we now do."

I forked another load of her delicious creation into my mouth before she could pluck the tined implement from my hand again with an irritated expression to go with her own assumption.

"So, you can only influence people."

"So far as I know, but that's my whole point; who can say?" I asked with a shrug, casually picking up the fork again while I went a little further afield. "In fact, from what I can tell, the only constant thing about the parasite, the only thing I've come to know about it for sure, is that it doesn't seem to have any set pattern at all. Not in its development and not between us. I mean, its behaviour- for want of a better term- isn't consistent from one of us to the next anymore than the abilities it gives us are."

I'd just taken another heavily laden fork from her pan before she grabbed it for the third time, more irritated and verbally scolding, "Uh, excuse me, but I said that's not for you!"

"It's good."

"So, that automatically means it's yours? Keep your grubby little paws out! This is for one of Kathy's favourite dishes, in case she does want to come for supper tomorrow!"

"Jeesh!" I complained, wanting more and eying the fork that Sheila now held onto while she returned to topic.

"According to Ashleigh, we have to bond with our mothers at a certain time, or by a certain point. Neither Kathy nor I did and, again according to Ashleigh, neither did our mother. Maybe that's responsible for any lack of consistency?"

"Maybe," I tentatively agreed while my fingers deftly took a spoon from the countertop. "But she's also proven with Kitten that it doesn't necessarily have to be a parent we bond with, that it can be with other family members," I countered as I scooped up a spoonful from the pan and popped it into my mouth.

"Hey! I said stop it, that was supposed to be a lasagna for your mother tomorrow night!" Sheila lamented as she tried to grab the spoon.

This time I held it up out of her reach and she actually started trying to jump for it while I laughed.

"That's not funny, you jerk!"

"I'm sorry, but it looked and smelled so good," I said, turning my back and grabbing the pan to have some more.

"Steven, dooon't!"

" Mmmm, Mum will never know what she missed."

In the end, I won her over by tempting her with some of it.

"I hate you," she resignedly toned, giving in to me.

"I'll help you cook something else for her," I lied, giving her access to the pan.

"Like that'll ever happen," she guffawed, digging in with the fork she took from me.

"The celery is perfect."

"Shut up and eat it before I eat you."

"Why don't you just make it tomorrow?"

"Because this lasagna is always better the next day," she glowered as she now enjoyed it with me. "It's a special, secret family recipe I was making just for her till you wrecked it!"

"Secret family recipe?" I laughed. "I find it hard to believe Marie would even have any secret family recipes, let alone pass them on to you of all people."

"Not our family, you idiot. Someone else's."

" ... Then how'd you get it?"

"I stole their recipe book, is how. Duh!"

I laughed out loud and asked, "You what?"

She shrugged in a careless manner and replied, "Hey, they had their chance to be nice. Fuck 'em."

"You're something else, Aunt Sheila," I told her with a big smile.

"I know it, I can't help it."

"Actually, that reminds me," I said, pausing my spoon to ask something I'd been wondering about off and on. "What ever happened with you and that couple you were... with?"

"What couple?"

"The guy that owned the restaurant and made you the chef's assistant. He was cheating on his wife with you until he discovered his wife cheating on him with you. Jeez, that's fucked."

"Oh, yeah. You're banging your mum and you tell me that's fucked?"

"Touché," I gracefully capitulated, "but please go on with your story."

"Where'd I leave off?"

"Their son had seen you licking his mother, and it was-"

"-at the kitchen table afterwards," Sheila finished with a recollective, grinning nod. "Okay, well Preston's sitting at the table and I'm looking at him, trying not to laugh as I imagined all the things that were going through his mind, not to mention whatever he must have been thinking of his mother just then. So, I shoot him this dirty little smile that says everything's cool, and lift up the back of his mother's skirt. She's wearing these sexy, purple panties that show a lot of ass and, at the counter, she was stooped over probably just well enough so he'd have a good view between her thighs from that angle. Judy had a pretty nice ass, too."

"Then what?"

"I held it for about five seconds while he just stared, dumbfounded. I let it back down again, grinning at him the whole time and wondering if Judy wasn't actually aware of what I'd done."

"Was she?" I asked.

"No, I don't think so."

"So, then what?"

"After that, I'd become a sort of fixture every few days when the house needed cleaning. I'd smile at Justin around the house, and he'd blush and get all freaked out because half the time his parents were in the room, but he loved it. I'd see him checking out his mother with these little looks that she never noticed, and I... it was just so much fun."

"Yeah," I agreed with a short, sarcastic laugh, "I'll bet it was."

"I couldn't leave it at that, though."

"Fuck, no."

"Two Saturdays later, I was there again, cleaning in my little outfit- by then it's an actual job along with the one as chef's assistant- while Justin and his father were watching sports on the television. We were waiting for Justin to leave so the festivities could begin, but he'd been spending more and more time at the house for some pretty obvious reasons. Judy was in the kitchen and I was wondering for the hundredth time that they wouldn't think their son would be looking at the family maid by now.

"Anyway, they were paying a lot more attention to me than the television while I dusted here, cleaned there, stretching up and bending over everywhere, until the cheerleaders came on. I stopped with my weight on one hip and watched with them for a minute before asking them if they thought I could be a cheerleader."

My horny smile was enough to prod my aunt into continuing as my meat squirmed in my dress pants.

"They both nod, Hector saying out loud that I'd make a great cheerleader. He ought to have known, I guess. I smiled and hiked the skirt of the little uniform while I faced them. Their jaws almost hit the floor while I just giggled."

"Whoa," I expressed with a smile. "Were you wearing anything underneath?"

"Yeah, a sexy pair of high cut, white panties, nice and small."

"So, then what happened?"

"I just stood there like that while they stared. Hell, I was getting off on it as much as they were. In fact, I had that damned skirt practically under my boobs, even turning around for them while I smiled... Preston actually licked his lips and I knew right then that he was a virgin. God, how I wanted them both right then, but I heard Judy coming from the kitchen, so I just let my skirt fall and passed her on the way out with a big, horny smile."

"Holy shit."

"Yeah. Needless to say, Justin never went anywhere that day, so his parents and I never got to get off. But a few days later, the maid is once again on the job. I knock on Preston's door to clean his room, and he lets me in to do that. The entire time, his face is red and he's trying to figure out if it's alright to check me out or not, if it's okay to maybe try something a little more... After all, I'm not that much older than him at the time, right?"

"Okay."

"So, finally he screws up the courage and just comes out with it. He asks me if I'll pull my skirt up again."

"And, did you?"

"Of course I did. On the condition that he jerk off in front of me."

"Holy shit," I laughed. "Why?"

"Because I enjoyed the control."

"O-kay," I accepted as I finished off what was to be hers and Mum's lasagna.

"Out comes his cock- already hard- and he starts stroking it, more freaked out and embarrassed than ever now, but obviously enjoying the real live show I was giving him. Yup, I got right up on his bed for him, spread my legs a little and everything."

"Panties?"

"A black thong."

"It couldn't have taken him very long."

"About thirty seconds, as I recall," she replied, following me to her living room with her drink to join me with mine on her couch. "I just loved it, watching his sperm squirting out the way it did with that expression on his face as he stared at my crotch... Oooh, yeah. After that, I told him that his cock was just like his father's, and that I was going to his and his mother's bedroom to eat her pussy while he fucked me. That had quite an effect."