The Slumber Party Pt. 01

And she's just sitting there, blaze yellow pj's with her painted on suit and tie. Spongebob Squarepants, something she bought specifically to match the Patrick Star onesie she'd gifted to me last Christmas.

Brooke, my sister, just lazing back, head staring off in the distance, maybe up to the spot where her Prefontaine poster hangs. Between her hands, she rolls her empty bottle of Chardonnay around, clanking her engagement right against it, bopping her head to the music, lost to her own world, wholly outside the festivities. She's alone. Instantly, I feel regret for my attitude toward her.

I do have to force myself not to dwell on what she'd done to me back in my room, I just concentrate on seeing my sister there, my former idol. Drunk Sister. Sloppy Sister. Lonely Sister. And I crawl up next to her, to the spot she'd prepared for me.

She smiles and nods, real casually, then points to Sophie and Blair who are both still bent over in front of us, still kow-towing to the vacuum cleaner. I see Blair's pinky creep over and prod the back of Sophie's hand. Sophie's own hand slips underneath Blair's. Blair rubs her thumb over the top of her friend's hand. Nurturing. Caring. And Sophie just melts against Blair.

Ta tink, tink, tink. Ta tink, tink, tink. Brooke made a point of clanking her ring extra loudly. When I look down at her half-carat ring, she directs my vision to her two friends who both also wore rings. Marriage, engagement, I really don't tell the difference.

But Holy Shit! Does Texas even allow that? I mean, they're both girls.

I'm not sure, but clearly they've both gotten hitched.

I feel Brooke's shoulder press into my own, she leans close and whispers, "Bob and Tom."

Huh?

She rattles her head, "No, uh, Ben and Jerry?"

Uh, what?

Finally, Brooke just straight up confesses, "I can't remember their husbands' names. Something to do with a duo. Chip 'n Dale?"

My eyes went wide, catching on. "I thought—" I indicated between them.

Brooke holds up her hand and shakes it back and forth. Eh, más o menos.

"Then why?" I nod to Blair's thumb caressing Sophie's hand, their fingers intertwined.

Brooke's breath is hot in my ear. "I think their husbands had a date tonight." I don't understand, so she adds on, "You know, a date, like, with each other."

oh...Oh. Oh!

Brooke points at the pair. "Watch." She spreads a wicked grin and adds, "They like that." And says nothing else.

I do watch.

After a short while, Blair leans over. Her lips nibble Sophie's cheek. The smaller girl leans into the affections, and I can't help but imagine Sophie as a cat, rubbing and purring along Blair's side. Blair trails back to Sophie's ear; She bites down and pulls. It's so hard, it jerks Sophie's head to the side, and right then, me and her are able to make eye contact—me, lounging back against the mattress next to my sister, and her, getting ear tugged all over the place.

She freezes, very unsure. I suppose I'm making her uncomfortable.

But, like, I don't know what to do here. What's the etiquette? I've never seen anything like this before. But doing nothing isn't an option, so I, you know, give her a big thumbs up. Good job, carry on—I guess? She takes that totally the wrong way, or I suppose, totally the right way? She rips her ear out of Blair's mouth and lays down on her back, fully submitted. She draws her knees into her chest, opens her thighs, and goodness, that girl even paws at the air, and suddenly, Sophie's gone from a kitty cat to a puppy dog.

Blair knows what's up. This is clearly nothing new to them. Her knee bumps right into Sophie's pussy, and through her cotton shorty shorts, Blair rubs that pussy up and down. Her domineering body leans over. Her hands sliiiide Sophie's shirt up to her neck. A quick flick of her wrist, and Sophie's bra even falls free. Sophie lifts her arms over her head; her top slips off, and right then, I realize that my favorite friend is totally bare breasted.

Dark pert nipples stick out from dusky mounds so small, I think my own pecks might have been bigger. But Sophie pokes one of her nipples in, beep, boop, pressing her button. She shrugs her shoulders at me, clearly aware of her size. Blair slurps up the other breast, wet and nasty sucklings. Sophie can't seem to help it, she kicks up her legs and giggles. Blair blows a raspberry; Sophie squeals.

While she's being devoured, my friend lays her head back, contentment written across her face, beaming up at the big top, positively glowing under the pinned up Christmas lights.

Blair relents from her assault, holds up her pointer finger—one sec— and rolls away to rifle through her handbag. Sophie props up on her side, facing me. Goddamn. In that position, she's the epitome of a centerfold. Her finger traces around her bare nipples. "You haven't seen these," she states directly to me.

Blair stops her riflings to look over. She follows Sophie's line of sight over to me, then turns back to her purse, completely unconcerned.

Sophie rights herself and shuffles over to me on her knees. She straddles over my extended legs and plops her little butt down right on my knees, just close enough to be playful but far enough to have an air of distance between us.

My hamster just fainted.

I try to keep my eyes up, but she just wrinkles her nose. "Dude, you can look. Like, that's why I came over here." Sophie shakes her head. "Stop being nice. It's a turnoff."

I glance over to Blair, who finally found what she was looking for: a little coin purse looking thing. She's crawling over to join us, but instead of joining me and Sophie, she crawls over to my sister. Her bleach white thighs straddle my sister's slender legs, and all the while, Brooke continues to roll the empty bottle of Chardonnay between her palms, indifferent, but still having enough respect to look her friend in the eye and force a smile.

Blair cradles my sister's cheek. "Oh, Brooke. I know, dear."

My sister swallows her wine and sniffles—some private communication between only them.

Blair leans over, but she doesn't do anything risque. Instead, she gives my sister a chaste kiss on her forehead. This earns her a smile.

A slender thumb turns my chin. "Hey," Sophie says, pushing my line of sight into her breasts, "eyes down here." She adds on. "Seriously, Mason, it's fine." She slaps me lightly. "Stop being so nice. Fucking grope them!" Those were words I never expected to hear from the middle school art teacher's lips.

I can't help myself, I glance over to Blair, feeling ever like a lifelong bitch. I'm seeking permission from her, having just come to realize that the two are in some kind of strange girlfriend dynamic—but also married to men? Blair's bent over my sister's lap, again, not doing anything risque, but she's fiddling with a plastic bag and a mirror she's placed on Brooke's thighs. I catch her eye. She winks. Looks up at Sophie and says, "Slut."

Sophie claps back, "I do what I want!"

"See?" was the shrug Blair gave me and got back to her fiddlings.

"Dude, like, here." Sophie takes my big meaty finger, probably half the weight of her whole hand, and guides it to her outstretched nipple. She explains as she goes: "I kinda like those tickle-scratches, like what Brooke does—"

"Sophie!" Blair scolds.

Guess that was a secret? Brooke don't care. She's still bopping along to a rhythm wholly in her head, oblivious to us in the outside world.

"Yeah, alright, that was—" Sophie purses her lips. "—kinda rude. But here, pinch them a bit but not, like, too hard. I mean, I like that, but you gotta work up to it, you know?"

I do not, in fact, have a clue, but I follow her instructions and roll her hard nubs between my thumb and forefinger. From beside me, I heard a quick chop, chop, chop, chop. Blair's still leaned over Sister's lap, doing some fixings on a mirror.

"Mason." Sophie leans up, taking her weight off me, and butts her forehead against my own. "You're beautiful, you know that? Here. Grab my ass."

I do. She humps her body into my palm, the latter of which is big enough to basically cover her whole cheek and then some—a high school linebacker groping a ninety pound school teacher. I can't take my eyes off her pert nipples. They have an exaggerated slit through them. Weird.

"That's where the milk comes out." Sophie pokes her finger in there, still writhing her butt against my palm. "Well, that is, if Thomas ever decides to, you know—" Her eyes glean. "—fuck me raw."

Right then, Brooke perks up. She snaps her fingers. "Tom and Jerry! That's it."

Blair rolls her eyes. "Oh my God. You're such a dick." Then she holds a mirror under Brooke's nose. "Here. It's half."

Brooke leans over. I hear a wet sniffle. She pinches one nostril closed, tips her head back, and dwells there. Blair sniffs up the rest of whatever that was—all that, far outside my purview.

I wrinkle my brows at my friend. Sophie taps Blair on the shoulder, points to her mouth. "Give me one."

Blair, still sniffling with her head tipped back, reaches into the baggie on my sister's lap and plops a round pill directly onto Sophie's tongue. Sophie closes her mouth, lolls it around, all the while, I play with her breasts. Really, I do love them.

After some time, Sophie pinches my cheeks, opening my own mouth. She sticks out her tongue, presenting a partially dissolved white pill and mumbles something about "Here's half" right before her tongue stabs between my lips, dropping the pill, essentially, straight down my throat. Her tongue curls up, licks the roof of my mouth before retreating. She closes my jaw. I swallow, not asking any questions.

Both Brooke and Blair are staring at us when Sophie releases me. I try to mumble an apology to Blair. Sophie slaps me again. Stop being a bitch. But that's not the reason for their look.

It's Brooke who speaks. "Sophie. What did you do?"

"What? You know..."

Next thing I know, I see Blair fly off of my sister's lap, shoved out of the way like a ragdoll. Brooke, on some kind of rampage, snatches Sophie's hair in a death-grip, rips her head back. "What did you do?"

Sophie waves her hands, stammers, "I gave him half. I gave him half."

"Aww, naw. You didn't." Brooke jerks Sophie out of the way, and the glare she gives that smaller girl, I swear, I see murder in my sister's eyes. But then she takes a deep breath, smiles at me, softly reassuring, and grabs my hand. "Come on, Mason. We gotta get you to throw up. Okay?" She tries to tug me upright. "I'll help. Come on. Up, up."

Except, I got a solid hundred pounds on Brooke. If I don't want to move, I'm not gonna move. My butt stays planted.

My sister's sounding more desperate, "Mason, like, not to freak you out, but you know, with your—" Her eyes dart off to the side. "—condition, like, that shit could seriously trigger something. Please." She's pleading with me.

I almost relent, but then a thought strikes me: Ever the lifelong bitch, Mason. I consider what Brooke did to me earlier. I just stood there and let her. Like, it felt good, it felt intimate, but I still felt like my sister's bitch.

And then I consider being alone in a bathroom with her.

I shake my head, maybe empowered by Sophie. "I don't want to be alone with you again, Brooke."

She swallows. Her eyes flash. She casts a side-eye at Blair who just sits back and purses her lips. A shadow of disappointed drapes across Blair's face, I guess, finally getting the confirmation that my sister's wet crotch had hinted at earlier.

Then Blair looks at me. "I can take you, Mason." No judgment in her voice.

I clasp my sister's wrist and squeeze—hard—until she jerks back and lets my hand go, rubbing her sore wrist as she does, some serious kind of hurt in her eyes.

"I'm fine, Blair." I tell her while ignoring my sister.

"Dude, what's the problem?" Sophie pulls herself back upright.

Brooke can't utter a word, so it's Blair who answers. "Brooke's worried that the Molly will trigger one of Mason's episodes."

Sophie forces a laugh. "What, like season six of Smallville?" She pokes my cheek. "Sorry, but you're like if Jack Reacher played Superman."

"Panic attacks, Sophie."

"Wait, what?"

"He's had them since the, you know, Paylor—"

I hold up my hands. "Stop. Seriously, I'm fine. Like, Molly, woo-hoo! Right?" I still have no clue what that is outside of hearing it mentioned at parties and whatnot. "You guys are okay, and I trust you, so, you know, you won't let anything bad happen." Brooke and co aren't convinced. "Seriously, guys, it's fine. Let's have fun!" I snap my fingers. "Sophie, bring those wonderful boobies back over here."

Blair just holds up her hands. What can you do? Tentatively, Sophie crawls back over and sits down on my knees. My thumbs find her nipples immediately. She works her hips into me, giving me something of a lap dance.

"Okay, so, you're going to feel a tingly between your brow." Sophie pokes my forehead. "Your heart rate will begin to quicken." She raps her hand against my chest. "That'll be the scariest part, but then, every little touch—" Her fingers trace across my cheeks. "—every sensation—" Her lips nibble at mine, then drape away. Her tongue pokes out and licks down to the middle of my neck, her slobber cooling my face along its trail. My primal brain screams "No!" but I tip my head back, expose my throat to her, and she grazes her teeth along my Adam's apple, where her lips wrap around and she suckles. "—will be heightened."

I don't even remember what her last addition is in regards to, and I don't care. I'm hers in this moment.

Sophie grabs my hand and slides it down her bare stomach. I pinch her nipple, now seems like the time for that, and she presses my fingers inside her cotton shorts, leads them down a tender smooth trail. It moistens, then slops, and my middle finger is nestled right between her pussy lips, so many strange workings and fleshy bits touching me all about. Her natural lube soaks into my skin as she rocks her hips, grinding my finger into her sex.

Faster, faster, faster. She's panting. Puts her hands on my shoulders. Harder, harder, harder. I'm nearly supporting her whole weight on my palm, it feels. Occasionally, my finger catches on a hole, and she squeals and grinds on past it.

She slows down just enough to whisper in my ear. "Let me tell you the secret: When your heart starts racing and your body feels out of control, just embrace the sensation. Twist your panic into sex. That's what you can do with me."

She slides her shorty shorts down to mid thigh, and I stare at the first bald pussy that I've ever seen. And my finger was nestled between those slender reddened lips, smothering it whole.

She pulls my hand away from her body, then reaches down and pulls her pussy apart, exposing her insides to me. "Okay, so, here's what we're gonna do: Stick your finger in my mouth...no, not that finger! The one you were just rubbing me with...yeah, mmmhmmm." She sucks it, leaves it with big wet slobbers dripping off it. "Now, I want you to put that finger right in here." She tips her hips forward and pokes her hole out.

I didn't wait for her to ask twice. I jam it in there.

"Jesus!" She shrieks. "Slower! Please..."

"Oh, sorry, Sophie."

"Oh my God! Dude, your finger feels like a whole cock itself. Like, seriously, fat." She giggles. "I might rip if you stick in two."

In my head, I've always pictured a vagina to be smooth, but Sophie's is anything but. Soft ribs clamp along my fingertip as I explore deeper into my friend's hole. "A vagina," I mutter.

"Yup!" Sophie beams. "And this one's mine."

Her hips buck, seemingly involuntarily once my whole finger is buried inside her. I tentatively ask, "Should I, you know, move it in and out or something?"

"Nope!" Sophie eases her bare butt down on my thighs, and just sits there, wholly content. She leans forward, rests her ear right over my heart, and otherwise, just snuggles against me. "I'll listen to your heartbeat, and if it gets loud and you feel like you're going to panic, just remember I'm connected to you; you're inside me, so I'll feel it, too, okay? Panic into my sex."

Her wetness drips off my knuckles. "Okay, Sophie." I lean forward and rest my chin into her frizzy curls.

I notice Brooke settle back down, sitting herself next to me again. She keeps casting glances my way, not heated ones, but worried ones. Blair curls up next to Sis, drapes her bare leg across Sister's Spongebob pants, and just nestles her lips into the side of Sis's neck. Soft kisses. Her fingers trace around and around Sis's belly.

Brooke doesn't reciprocate. She's somehow managed to find another bottle of wine, this time a Merlot, which becomes her very good friend for a time.

Sophie's musk wafts up, sensual and sweet. The smell of her drippings fill the tent that we're all under. And like that, for a time, we just lounge in silence.

Perhaps because our world is so calm, I begin to feel the first frizzes in my brain. Subtle sensations. It comes in rolling waves, each increasing in intensity.

Sophie perks up, somehow sensing the change in me. Oh yeah, I guess because I'm connected to her. I'm plugged into her soft, willing thighs, a finger in a socket.

Pa-tatta-tat-tat. Pa-tatta-tat-tat. My heart does some funny things. I wheeze out a laugh.

Okay, heart. You had your fun. That's starting to feel kind of weird, now. You can stop.

Pa-tatta-tatta-tatta-tatta-tatta-tatta. Like, ha ha. I get it. You're excited. Seriously, stop.

Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat. It doesn't. Oh shit. It's out of control. Something's happening to me here.

"Sophie. Sophie, seriously. I think I'm having a heart attack."

I swear, our big top tints blood red. Those bleedin' Christmas lights!

"Sex, Mason, think sex." A little ass slides across my thighs, soft humps, working my finger inside her. Husky whispers in my ear. "Think about my pussy. You're inside me, Mason. That's something special. That's my sex, Mason." I feel her vaginal muscles clench, and then, roll across my finger in waves. A billion sensations.

"That feels weird," I huff.

"Kegels. I'm practicing. Mmmm." She bites my Adam's apple. "Sex, sex, sex. Unrestrained, let yourself go."

Pa-tatta-tatta-tatta. "I—I've never, you know, this is my first."

She bites my chin. "Then that makes it even more special, doesn't it? I'm here with you. Just relax. Let yourself go. Nothing's going to hurt you."

Tatta-tat-tat. Tatta-tat-tat. Hurt you. Hurt you. Hurt you. I hadn't even considered that until she let the words slip. But now, that's all my brain can focus on. Tatta-tat-tat. Tatta-tat-tat. Hurt you. Hurt you.

Who? Who's going to hurt me? Clearly something is, or I wouldn't be thinking it.

A heart attack. Heart attack, surely that's it.

Fingertips glide through the back of my hair. Not Sophie's. That little schoolteacher is still humping my finger.

But next to me, Brooke's got her head tipped back against the bed. She's looking right at me—not at what's going on down below, but up at my face. She gives me a tender smile. "Shhh, shhh, shhh. While her arm reaches over and scratches the back of my head.

And somehow, inexplicably, I forget about sex. I forget about the encroaching panic.

Blair's still draped over Sister, but Sister pushes her off. She spreads her legs, pats her lap, and opens her arms to me.

Pa-tatta-tat-tat. Pa-tatta-tat-tat. Almost without thinking, I pull my finger out of Sophie's vagina. My hand's drenched, but I don't hardly feel it.

I grab Sophie under her arms, pick her up, and set her off to the side like nothing.

"Huh?" I hear her say, but I have my eyes locked on Sister's upturned lap.