Chapter 2: Single ll

Kim and I waved goodbye to our friends as they left, and then she returned to the living room as I closed the door. I followed her back and watched as she stooped over the coffee table and began cleaning up our study materials. And with Bert's suggestion about having "a talk" with her ringing in my head, I reached over and slipped a hand into hers while head nodding back behind me.

She resisted my gentle tug and gave me an odd look. "We're not going upstairs and having sex," she stated evenly.

I blinked in surprise and barked a short laugh. My first impulse was to ask why she'd thought I was suggesting that, but rather than voice the question, I instead gave her a stern look and asked, "And what if I commanded you?"

Kim shivered slightly, and took a deep breath. For a second, I saw the old submissive Kim in her eyes, but a moment later, she was gone, replaced by the somewhat more self-assured version I'd come to know these past couple of weeks. "Not yet," she said, pulling her hand out of my grasp.

I shrugged as I sat down and leaned against the couch's backrest, not disappointed or anything. But curious, I asked, "You've been saying 'not yet' for a while now. I'm not pressuring you, but I do wonder. The first day of class you dragged me home so I could quote 'fuck the shit out of you'. I was under the impression that while you didn't consider me ready to resume being your Master, you at least wanted to still have an intimate relationship with me."

Taking a deep breath, Kim looked around us as if worried someone might overhear. But Brooke and DJ were both out of the house, and they probably wouldn't be home until dinner at the earliest.

With Bert's words needling me and causing a little surge of testosterone, I decided to take further charge of the situation and reached for her hand again. This time, Kim allowed me to tug her down onto the couch beside me. And more out of a desire to push her buttons than any real come on, I moved my hand down to her thigh and rubbed it, just to see what she'd do. "So what are we?" I asked. "Just roommates? Friends? Broken-down college boy and the sadistic girl who wants to experiment her psychobabble on me?"

Kim cracked a smile and shook her head at that last part, and she also let my hand remain where it was. She took a deep breath and then admitted, "Having sex last Monday was more for me than for you. I hadn't been with you in so long and I just ... I needed that."

I shrugged. "Fair enough. And the blowjobs last Tuesday... ?"

"The blowjobs were to get you warmed up for Paige, nothing more. I thought it best to direct your sexual energy toward someone other than me."

"That why you set up Brooke and DJ in the bondage gear last Wednesday?"

She nodded.

"And yet you gave DJ explicit orders not to stay overnight with me."

"Codependency is not good for you," she reminded.

"But what about you? I know you don't want me to fixate on you as a new girlfriend, but I can still make time for you if--"

"No, no," Kim cut me off. "I like things as they are now. I've been holding myself back from intimacy because of the emotions it stirs up in me. I know that if we make love again, my feelings for you will only deepen. It would be much harder to maintain this ... maintain my..." Her voice trailed off.

"You'd be tempted to fall into our old relationship?" I guessed. "The Master/sub relationship?"

Kim looked away, but sighed and nodded. "Yes."

Furrowing my eyebrows, I asked, "Then why did you move back in with me?"

"I told you: I still love you. I want to help fix you, to see you once again become the man I know you can be. I can help you best by being around, and I do plan to take action in your life to see that you do."

"You can be my friend and meddle with my life but still live somewhere else where you don't have to be tempted into intimacy. And it can't be easy to listen to Brooke or DJ or Paige in my room."

Kim's eyes glittered. "I don't mind. The sounds can be quite ... stimulating."

I felt my shorts tighten at the thought of Kim masturbating in her room while I pounded one of the other girls into my mattress.

"Besides, if it weren't for them, I would have felt obligated to help take care of your sexual needs, which would have conflicted with my desire to avoid becoming overly intimate with you," Kim continued. "As for moving back into the house, I've learned that the commute from Sunnyvale would be a killer. And the rent I'm paying your family for my room is far less than what I'd have to pay anywhere else close by."

"What does your father think about you moving in here again? I would have thought that he and your brothers would hate me for breaking up with you."

Kim looked down. "They don't hate you. I didn't blame you for the break-up. Of course, I was quite distraught in the days immediately after the end of school, and Mike in particular was ready to drive up here and kick your ass. But I was adamant that what happened between us wasn't your fault and that I still hoped we would be friends. And we are."

"Special friends," I said warmly.

Kim smiled, an extra twinkle coming into her eyes.

I took a deep breath, stretching my arms a bit and then standing up before turning about to face her. "So let me get this straight: You're fine with me having booty calls with DJ, Brooke, and Paige. And for now you want to be just friends, but you still plan on monitoring my 'relationships' to make sure I don't backslide into rebound habits."

Kim mulled that over for about five seconds before smiling and nodding her head sharply up and down. "Yes!"

I smirked and chuckled. I still had a bit of my stiffy from that stray thought about Kim masturbating, and I couldn't help but ask, "Sure you don't want to go upstairs and let me fuck the shit out of you?"

Kim stood up, pecked my cheek, and hoisted her backpack. "I'm having dinner with my friends. Bye, Ben."

"This time?" the panting girl beneath me breathed, her dark blue eyes so big and so open as she stared intently at me, every last shred of her attention completely on me and the grimace on my face as I felt the pressure rising.

Twice more, I thrust into her body, completely focused on the exquisitely pleasurable feeling of her tight tunnel holding and caressing my invading shaft with wet warmth.

"I won't beg. I won't plead," she stated carefully, her words interrupted by the rhythmic jarring of our bodily impacts. "But you know what I want."

I groaned, indeed knowing what she wanted. I remembered the last time we'd done this, just days before her period was due. Such a time frame should have been "safe", and besides she WAS now on birth control, but I couldn't bring myself to do it then.

Two weeks ago, Paige had given me a whiny moan as I swiftly exited her pussy and crawled up her chest to park my dick in her face. She hadn't asked questions or made any protests. She'd merely opened her mouth and guided my hips forward to fill her oral cavity with man meat. Instantly I'd felt powerful suction surround my knob as she formed a tight seal around my girth with her lips. And then she laid her head back on the pillow while pulling me with her, keeping herself still while I gripped the headboard and face-fucked her the final few strokes until the floodgates opened up.

"Hrk!" Paige had semi-choked when the first shot blasted out of me like a cannon and hit the back of her throat. But she kept me in mouth, her nostrils flaring as she fought for air and prepared herself for my subsequent cum shots. With steady rhythm, slower than my final rabbit-thrusts had been, my dick had glided in and out of her mouth, spitting out a wad of spunk at the apex of each forward thrust. And then finally I'd spilled all I had to spill and felt the energy leave my body as I sagged against the headboard.

Paige had continued nursing at my prick even as it started to go soft. Her tongue began to tickle as she licked me, and when my dick started getting too sensitive, I'd pulled out of her mouth and flopped onto my butt beside her. Naked, sweaty, and with her auburn hair in disarray, the beautiful young woman in my bed smiled, pleased to have pleased me.

"I'm sorry," I had apologized despite her smile. "Soon, after your next cycle. I promise."

"It's okay," she had replied understandingly. "I get it, but you can't blame a girl for trying. I'll swallow your jizz any day... every day ... but there's something so ... special ... about feeling you cum deep inside me."

"I know."

But that was two weeks ago. This was now. And ... well ... I HAD promised her.

She had taken her pills religiously, just as she'd promised. Really, it was no different than cumming deep inside Brooke or DJ or anyone else taking birth control pills. Despite the obvious proof of Paige's fertility, the odds were the same, and I owed her nothing less.

So I closed my eyes. I bent my head to give her a tender kiss. And then I let myself go.

I felt an extra boost of power in my next thrust as I rammed my cock deep into the little redhead's juicing snatch. For all my fears of unplanned pregnancy, the concept of squirting my baby makers into a fertile womb was hard-coded as a GOOD thing in my hormone-flooded male brain, and I groaned with a surge of adrenaline as I pounded her really hard for another two or three strokes.

Paige giggled and held me tighter, her fingers digging into my ass cheeks as she strove to pull me in deeper. I felt her fuck back at me with renewed effort, energized by the prospect of finally getting what she wanted. Our pelvic bones slammed together harder and harder and HARDER. Her feet planted on the bed so she could add even MORE force to our joining. And as her narrow little pussy clamped down on me with the beginnings of her orgasm, I felt mine rise up as well.

"BENNNN!!!" Paige screamed as we both came together. Her fingernails dug into and scratched my ass as she tried to shove my cockhead through her cervix. And then I was yelling with her as I felt that same cockhead belch out spurt after spurt after spurt of scalding sperm into the back of her womb.

And then we were done.

My ejaculation, driven by the notion of flooding Paige's baby warmer with my baby makers, had been incredibly strong. My head had gone foggy for a moment, and when I came to I realized I'd slipped out of her pussy and slid down the bed a bit. My head was pillowed on her well-developed bosom, her tits still swollen larger and rounder than usual from nursing.

"Mmm," she crooned while stroking my head with her hands. "Thank you for that."

I chuckled. "I think I should be thanking YOU. It's been a while since I got laid."

"Hey, me too. Besides, you know what I'm thanking you for."

"I know. Just as long as you don't wind up thanking me for giving April a younger sibling next month."

"Relax. I promised. I wouldn't mess this up for you."

"I know, I know."

"I mean it. It's special, and after everything we've been through, it means a lot to have your trust again."

"You do."

We both went silent after that, and I turned my cheek to settle my head on her tummy, resting for a few moments.

I felt and heard Paige's hands leave my head then, and she seemed to be cupping her own breasts since I felt a heavy melon bounce off my crown. After a second's thought, she spoke up again, saying, "You know, for an injection like that, I think you deserve a little reward." As I tilted my head to look, she reached down and performed some sort of milking motion on her own breast, with several drops of fluid appearing at the tip of her nipple.

I smirked, still amazed at what a woman's breasts could do. "You know, I kept meaning to ask ... April's a year old now. Shouldn't she be on solid food or something?"

"Some, of course. But breastmilk is still the most nutritious thing she can have, and I want nothing but the best for her."

"Even though the teeth hurt?"

"She doesn't bite me EVERY time," Paige laughed before rotating my head in her grasp and pointing me toward a teat. "Now hurry up and suckle. I don't wanna get all swollen."

"You ARE bringing your breast pump to school, aren't you? You could store this stuff and bring it home to her."

"I've stored up a lot already. THIS..." she raised a teat up in my direction, pinching beneath to express a little more milk. "Doing this always seems to get you hard again pretty fast. And THAT is all for ME."

Having ingested several ounces of breastmilk to offset the lost ounces of semen, I felt pretty good as Paige and I bounced down the steps of the house and made the turn toward campus.

Scratch that: I felt REALLY good.

Holding hands with my perky redhead, we practically skipped down the sidewalk with glee despite finding ourselves on our way TO the boredom of higher learning, and I realized that I felt more relaxed than I had in a long time.

I'd gotten laid.

The last couple of weeks had certainly flown by. Project Ben had really taken off, and I'd found myself far busier than I could remember ever being before. My old life had consisted of going to class and spending time with one girlfriend or another (and spending additional time with additional women who were NOT my girlfriend). Now, there was no girlfriend, nor even "additional women", and taking their places were more activities and skills to learn than I'd ever dreamed of tackling at once.

Tuesday night motorcycle lessons with Kim were familiar, and surprisingly lacking in sexual tension now that we'd both come to terms with a platonic relationship. It was (literally) like riding a bike, and since I was rapidly recalling everything she'd taught me before, I knew I'd be able to get my license soon.

Wednesday ballroom dancing was as UNfamiliar as the motorcycle was familiar. The instructors made everything look so easy, but copying their movement with quite as much grace was going to take some doing. Perhaps I was being too hard on myself, since the girls I danced with complimented me on how quickly I was picking it up. But I wasn't entirely sure how much of their flattery was sincere and how much of it was flirting.

And then there was the Krav Maga on Mondays and Thursdays. The idea was for me to learn how to dish out physical pain, but so far the only one in pain was ME. The taskmaster instructors were quite literally kicking my ass to the floor over and over as a way of teaching me to NOT want to get my ass kicked. And even though much of my initial training was on pads and punching bags, I still headed home each night with abused hands and soreness from muscles unused to that style of activity.

On the plus side, my instructors thought my pectorals were awesome for a guy who didn't work out. Must have been all those push-ups I'd been doing in the missionary position...

I still haven't mentioned the cooking lessons I was getting each night. All three of my roommates insisted that I make each and every dinner for the entire month of September, although Brooke was starting to complain that she missed the flavor of GOOD-tasting food. And then on top of all that, I STILL had my full course load of academics, with homework, exams to study for, and a project team to lead. I used to lead my life by the three "S"s: Sleep, Study, and Sex. I was still sleeping. I was still studying. But unfortunately, I wasn't having much sex.

Of the four years I'd been attending Cal Berkeley, this year by far had been the driest start for me, ejaculation-wise. My freshman year, Adrienne and I had taken full advantage of sharing a bedroom far, far away from the prying eyes of parents or twin little sisters. Sophomore year, though I'd begun the semester in a semi-distant relationship with DJ, and could only really get jiggy with her on weekends, I'd still been porking Brandi and Adrienne with some regularity throughout the week to supplement the Friday-to-Sunday marathons with the youngest Evans girl. And then last year, Dawn and I had begun the year quite adventurously with Kim, Viktoriya, and others.

But for my Senior year, the pinnacle of pinnacles for the college experience, I was single. And I was having sex at a rate slower than any period I could immediately recall, save for the month or so of abstinence immediately prior to my relationship with Dawn.

That's not to say I didn't have opportunity. I still had quite the reputation on campus, and many a pretty coed went out of her way to make clear she wouldn't mind a casual romp between the sheets with no strings attached. Even at home, more often than not I'd find DJ making doe eyes at me along with subtle verbal invitations to relieve me of any pent-up pressure I may have building in my loins.

But I'd been going out of my way to keep my relationship with DJ on an even keel. The two times we'd hooked up since the "not yet" conversation had only occurred when the gorgeous blonde abandoned all subtlety and more or less dragged me into her room for a pounding she insisted she desperately craved. The first occurred because she was stressing over an exam and needed the study break. The second occurred when -I- was stressing over an exam, and she wordlessly yanked my pants down and slurped my dick into her mouth without so much as a "please". While I'd found ecstatic physical release with her, I'd left each encounter feeling both guilt and anxiety over whether or not we were crossing a line we shouldn't, emotions that kept me from feeling this joyous bliss I felt in this moment. And because of that, I hadn't given her the opportunity to drag me off at all this past week.

Conversely, it was Brooke who hadn't given ME any opportunities to drag her off these past couple weeks. She wasn't avoiding me or anything; she was just busy. Plus, she had a steady boyfriend to scratch her itch for her. It wasn't that she necessarily saw a conflict between me and her relationship with Joel or anything, but her sexual needs were currently satisfied and since she hadn't shown any inclination to knock boots with me, I wasn't going to press her. We were fine just being brother and sister the way we were.

As for Kim, I knew she was serious about maintaining a platonic relationship between us. I WAS making an extra effort for quality time with her, something that was rather easy to do since we had several classes together and of my three roommates, she spent the most time with me in the house. But I also reminded myself of Bert's needles regarding my lack of ability in the communication department, and I decided to sharpen my skills by attempting to crack the walnut of Kim Fukuzaki's mysterious mind.

So I was busy, and active, both in body and mind. Most every waking moment was occupied doing something or another, so much that it was becoming difficult to find enough time to just relax and do nothing at all. Every day there was new homework to complete, a new recipe to cook, a new dance move to learn, or a new self-defense maneuver to master. I was always active, always on the go, and the only muscle of mine not getting a consistent workout was my penis.

And hell, last week Paige had been suffering a really heavy period and didn't even want to come by the house.

But now I'd gotten laid. I'd spurted my spunk into the willing (protected) pussy of a pretty girl. Fuck Krav Maga. Why the hell would I want to do a hundred pushups while burly men wearing too-tight shirts stared at my ass and yelled at me to do a hundred more? Fuck Ballroom Dancing. Why would I want to stand at closed position with some girl I barely knew, fumbling around and stepping on her toes like a nervous fourteen-year-old at his first school dance?

I am a sexual creature, and I knew I was capable of throwing said ballroom partner to the floor and making her scream in orgasmic ecstasy right there on the dance floor in full view of everyone. I'd rather do a hundred pushups with my prick pushing in and out of a hot babe writhing beneath my sweaty chest. And for one afternoon, I'd been able to do just that, with no doubts or feelings of uncertainty clouding the enjoyment.

Sure, one might think that with Paige's rather obvious experience in unplanned pregnancies, I might be worried about having shot off deep into a girl's womb. But really, I didn't feel any more worried about it than at any other time in my life. Having gone this long without getting laid, getting that first orgasm overrode any other concerns, and the two subsequent times I gave Paige's womb my cream filling only emphasized the point.

Why hadn't I been doing this all along? I was young and full of cum. I was single and didn't have any commitments or other romantic entanglements. I was a free agent, ready and able to do anybody at any time. Spend my evenings learning how to waltz, or spend my evenings doing the horizontal tango: Which sounds like more fun to you?

Just then, a smoking hot brunette arrived at the same crosswalk where Paige and I were waiting. Without a second thought, I gave her a confident head-nod and asked with a grin, "Hey how YOU doin'?"

The brunette's eyebrows popped, and she rather obviously glanced down at my hand, which was still wrapped around Paige's.

I chuckled to myself and shrugged while Paige looked over at me and rolled her eyes. She then deliberately tugged me into her body and yanked my head down for a kiss that was wet and sloppy and full of tongue.

My little redhead wasn't really possessive about me, and she fully knew that I could and would be bedding other women besides her. We simply didn't have that kind of a relationship. But I don't think any girl ever WANTS to see a guy try to pick up another girl while his cum is still soaking into her panties.

No matter, because right then my phone rang in my back pocket. Paige pulled away and by then we noticed that we'd missed the WALK sign and that the hot brunette was already on the other side of the street while the signal switched to the red STOP hand.

Giving Paige a smirk, I dug into my pocket and pulled it out. And THEN I remembered why I was doing all this self-improvement.

My phone read: Dawn.

I'd only had about ten minutes to chat before class, but it had been enough for Dawn and me to touch base and feel a little better for having done so. She told me about the clique of friends she'd formed, and as she described them, I mentally chuckled as I thought about how much this guy Aaron reminded me of my high school buddy Kenny with his horny pervert ways. I also noted the distinctly fond tone in her voice for this one guy she was spending a lot of time with, but I didn't say anything about it. Fond as she may sound, I couldn't quite muster any jealousy over a guy named "Fat Nick" who'd needed to be rescued from drowning by Dawn's roommate Zoey.

That was really all we had time to talk about before I joined Bert and Sasha for our Corporate Finance class. Having spoken to Dawn so recently, I couldn't help but feel a chill go down my spine as Professor Rutledge walked in. But I fought it down and zeroed my focus on my academics. For whatever else I might think or suspect about the guy, he really was excellent at communicating information in a way his students could comprehend and retain.

When class was over, Casey McCahill lightly flirted with me as we walked out the door. I'd been sorely tempted by her innuendoes last week while still amidst my dry spell, especially since Paige had cancelled due to her heavy period. But today I'd been nicely unclogged, and sensing that she wasn't making any progress with me, the peroxide blonde rejoined her friends.

As had become custom these past few weeks, Bert and Sasha then both walked back with me to my house instead of catching the BART right away. We would do our homework and chit-chat casually about whatever. And Kim would arrive a little later to join us as well.

But then dinnertime approached, and my friends took their leave. Brooke and DJ arrived to help me with my latest Project Ben culinary masterpiece, and so the routine would go on.

It was Tuesday night, which meant motorcycling with Kim. After dinner, we took her Fireblade out for about an hour, and when we returned home Kim said I would be ready to take the license exam within weeks. I was looking forward to it, not for the goal of having my motorcycle license, but because having a free night in the middle of the week again sounded REALLY good.

We headed inside and up to our rooms. As usual, I let Kim strip out of her leathers and take the first shower while I organized myself for the next day. And when I heard the shower go off, I went and parked myself in my bedroom doorway so I could watch her emerge wearing nothing but a towel around her torso.

Hey, I knew ours was a platonic relationship, but she was still a very pretty girl.

Kim blushed (as usual) as she went past me and into her bedroom without a word. She recognized what I was doing but made no attempts to curb my behavior. So with her tacit approval, I just kept on doing it most nights. It sort of reminded me of the way I used to glimpse Brandi crossing the hallway from the shower to her bedroom back when we were still in high school, and that wasn't a bad thing to be reminded of.

I went in and took my own shower, feeling the ache of muscles still unused to the kind of activity I was putting them through. Drying off and wrapping the towel around my waist, I then opened the door to find Kim standing in her own bedroom doorway, clad in a kimono-cut bathrobe she often wore. And then it was her turn to ogle as I cruised bare-chested into my bedroom.

So far, everything about the evening had been routine, right down to the little hallway voyeurism. But one thing came up very un-routine tonight, and I wasn't quite sure what to do about it.

See, Adrienne had really been into skin care, and she'd gotten me hooked on it as well while living together those first two years of college. How could I NOT get hooked when a woman THAT gorgeous wants to strip down naked every night and have you cover her head-to-toe in perfumed lotions? I wasn't anal about it or anything, but it had become habit to at least apply a layer of lotion to my skin every night after my shower. And for years and years I had always had a girlfriend (or a "not-girlfriend") to put it on for me.

Not anymore. Not that it was such a big deal; I was fully capable of applying lotion to myself and I was flexible enough to get my entire back ... usually. That's what was different about tonight. The Krav Maga had been tightening my muscles over the past few weeks, something no amount of stretching could completely counteract until my body got used to the exercise. And anyone who has ever worked out a lot can tell you that your muscles don't get really tight until the day AFTER you've worked out.

Krav Maga was Monday. That "day after" was today. And for the first time in a very long while, I couldn't bend my arms enough to put lotion on my own back.

The end of the world? No. But it sure was annoying.

Feeling like the ligaments in my arm had lost their springiness, like rubber bands left out in the sun too long, I tried and tried and tried again to get to the uncovered skin to no avail. It wasn't just a couple of square inches I couldn't get to; my triceps were so stiff I could barely get to my own neck. As my arms whined at me to stop making them move in directions they hadn't agreed to go, I sighed and shook my head, deciding that just maybe my back didn't really need lotion. It's not like I had girls scratching that part of my skin to shreds every night anymore.

Or ... I could get someone else to help. My weekly sex therapy session with Paige had ended hours ago, so my testicles had re-filled and I once again had returned to a state of being able to think about sex every twenty seconds. I didn't have a steady girlfriend, true, but there were still three women living under this roof who certainly wouldn't shy away from this level of intimacy. It was just rubbing lotion into my back, right?

Kim had certainly been ogling my musculature just minutes ago. While the sore muscles were a rather unpleasant consequence of the intense Krav Maga workouts, a not unwelcome side effect was that I certainly looked more bulked up than usual, since my sore and tense muscles didn't relax as easily. My relationship with the beautiful girl across the hall was platonic, but surely the innocent application of lotion wouldn't cross any lines of friendship.

On the other hand, Kim admitted her own desire to resume a physical relationship with me, and didn't want to put herself into a position of temptation. While we could probably get away with what amounted to a backrub without going further into sex, there were two other girls who could help me without such complications.

DJ certainly wouldn't hesitate a moment should I ask for her assistance. She wouldn't hesitate if I asked her to stroke me to orgasm, allow me to ejaculate on her breasts, and then rub her OWN back using my semen for lotion. That, in and of itself, was probably the reason why I shouldn't ask her. The same way Kim didn't want to get into a position of temptation with me, -I- didn't want to get into a position of temptation with DJ. Not while I was so firmly committed to the idea of waiting for Dawn to fix herself. Not while I knew how strongly DJ felt for me and how strongly I could feel for her if I only let myself.

So that left Brooke. She was my sister. We were comfortable with each other's body, and if innocent rubbing turned into less than innocent fooling around? No biggie. I'd probably enjoy it even more, given that she and I had not been intimate for a few weeks now. Hey little sis. Need a favor. Just for a couple of weeks until my body gets used to these workouts and I regain my flexibility. Cool?

Donning my shorts, I walked downstairs topless to find Brooke and DJ sitting in the living room doing their homework, just like always. They had both made firm resolutions this semester to get their studying done at Vivian Wang's house while their group hung out, but that had only lasted a couple of days before they remembered that socializing was just too strong a distraction. Both girls looked up at my entrance, DJ perking up immediately and greeting me with a sultry, "Well HELLO pectoral muscles..."

My sister rolled her eyes and immediately returned to her book. But I kept my gaze on her and said, "Hey, Brooke. Think you can do me a favor?"

I'd had a plan, a good plan. Everything made logical sense, but not everything turns out the way you plan it. Brooke was certainly willing; it's just that DJ could be rather insistent when she wanted to be.

So that's how I ended up face down on my bed, completely naked, while the scorching-hot stacked blonde decided my ENTIRE body needed a fresh coat of lotion, not just my back. Five minutes later, she concluded that her breasts would make very good applicators for the creamy fluid. And two minutes after that, the one part of my body she HADN'T covered in lotion (my dick) was fully imbedded in her throat.

Such is life.

"So that's it? You're giving up on relationships?" the sweet voice on the other end of the line asked.

"Isn't that what you're doing? No guys. No romance. Just focusing on your schoolwork and doing a lot of introspection as you gear yourself up to return back to your David?"

Amber laughed. "Maybe. But your situation isn't exactly like mine. Or are you re-thinking your insistence that you wouldn't blindly forgive Dawn for everything she's done to you and take her back without reservations."

"No, no. Of course not. I don't know what's going to happen in the future with me and her, but I'm smart enough to know that things can't just go back to the way they were before."

"Did she call again?"

"Yeah, yesterday."

"That's twice in less than a week. So that's a good sign. She's staying in contact with you, and that's better than I can say about me and David."

I sighed. "Maybe. I get the distinct impression that she really just wants to hear my voice. But in less than five minutes, she made up some excuse about having to go and then we hung up."

"Still really awkward?"

"Yeah. I don't think either of us really knows what to say to each other. I talk about school and ask her about camp. She asks about our sisters, and that's really it. Neither of us can talk seriously about our relationship or what's going to happen in the future."

"Maybe you guys shouldn't."

"Huh?"

"She hasn't even been gone a month. Both of you are still scarred and hurting, and it's going to take time for those wounds to heal. Remember what I said about why I can't bring myself to even call David: it just hurts too much. Even though Dawn is managing to stay in contact with you, it's still gotta take some effort for her to simply dial your number. You say you feel awkward on the phone, but I'll bet you it's even worse for her."

I exhaled, kicking back in my chair and staring up at the ceiling as I cradled the phone to my head. "Then how come it isn't awkward for you to talk to me? We had a pretty complicated breakup, too."

"We're different. Our breakup was mutual," Amber explained. "Dawn betrayed you, and she's never going to forget that. Right now, she probably feels obligated to call you and stay in contact – like she owes you at least that much – but it's got to feel almost like a chore to do so."

I winced. "I don't want her calling me if it feels like a chore. That's only going to lead to resentment, and it's not like we're getting anything productive out of these calls anyway. She mumbles something, I mumble something, and in the end we both feel worse than before we started."

"Now you know why I can't do it," Amber mumbled. But she then took a deep breath and added, "At least give Dawn that much credit. She's making the effort."

"I guess."

"And with time, the awkwardness will start to fade, one way or another. Either you two will gradually be able to have a normal conversation again, or the calls will start slowing down in frequency: once every two weeks, then once a month, and then maybe just once in a blue moon."

"Maybe that would be better," I sighed. "Don't get me wrong: As awkward as the conversations are, I still love to hear her voice. But for now I need to move on with my life, and maybe I should let her move on with hers."

"Maybe. But that's for the two of you to decide, not me."

I nodded, even though Amber couldn't see me. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and then sat up straight. "Okay, enough of that. Back to you and me. So how's the new clerkship?"

"Ugh ... Let me tell you about this new hospital administrator. Guy is a total letch and he's giving me the creeps. Think you can swing by and beat the shit out of him?"

I grinned. "For you, anytime."

"Oh, forgot the corn. Back this way..."

Pushing the shopping cart, I dutifully followed DJ around the last aisle and back toward the front of the store. I had already known, intellectually, why grocery stores organized their food the way they did. It was the sort of thing they taught business students. Studies had shown that Americans tend to shop counter-clockwise, so the produce is typically the first thing you see on the right. That way the shopper mentally associates the rest of the store with the freshness, bright colors, and smells of a neatly organized produce section. Staples like milk and eggs (the sort of things you came to the store for in the first place) were placed at the back of the store, forcing the shopper to go through aisles of less necessary, higher-profit items screaming for attention at eye-level and thus be tempted to purchase those as well.

But that was business psychology to be applied to the mentally weak, the mindless herd who simply followed the rest of the salmon upstream and into a waiting grizzly bear's mouth. I was not one of them. I knew what I needed, I would not be swayed by impulse shopping, and I would proceed through the store in the most efficient manner possible.

Just one problem: I was shopping with a GIRL.

Up until now, the ladies of the house had done all of the grocery shopping. Oh, they'd send me out at the last minute to pick up a needed item or two, usually from a local market. But the weekly runs to Safeway or Berkeley Bowl were usually handled by someone who knew what they were doing, at least until Project Ben.

Though I hadn't been in this particular Safeway very often over the last three years, I'd come enough to remember the general layout. Before even getting out of the car, I'd mentally calculated the most efficient route throughout the store to pick up each item on the grocery list in my hand, minimizing total walking distance and ensuring I wouldn't have to back-track while simultaneously saving refrigerated and fragile items for the end, the refrigerated so that their exposure to warmth would be limited and the fragile so they wouldn't be crushed under other items in my shopping cart.

I didn't tell DJ any of this. I wanted to impress her with my abilities and show her that this "male" could handle himself just fine. All three girls had been teaching ME about how the world goes 'round these past few weeks, and while I didn't feel emasculated per se, my ego had been a little wounded.

But the moment we entered the store, DJ had grabbed the front of my cart and pulled me to the right, heading straight for that colorful produce section. She'd cut off my protest by calmly and rather condescendingly informing me that SHE was in charge of this shopping trip and would remain so until I proved myself through future visits. And as my teeth gnashed and my hands clenched around the handlebar, she defused me by stepping into my personal space, leaning into my ear, and promising I could take my alpha male revenge later that night by bending her over my bed and violating her nubile young body in any way I saw fit.

And then she taught me how to pick fruit.

I have to admit, DJ taught me a lot that afternoon. While I would have grabbed the three cantaloupes with the fewest surface blemishes and most consistent external appearance, DJ showed me that even the ugliest melons could smell the sweetest, and therefore taste the best. She had me select some perfectly yellow bananas, but also some that were still a little firm and green, reasoning that we weren't going to eat them all at once, and the not yet ripe ones would be just right in another couple of days. Then she showed me about the "thump test" for watermelons, with deep and thick sounds indicating dense, full fruit while avoiding hollow-sounding melons in general, even though we weren't even buying watermelons.

Ripe apples were hard to the touch. Ripe mangoes should give a bit. Pear stems shouldn't be too stiff. And twist off the pineapple crown before sticking it into the bag, since you'd just have to throw it out at home anyway.

She filled my head with more information than I could handle all at once. It took close to an hour to gather all the items on our shopping list, and I was so busy trying to process everything she was telling me that I barely noticed how we seemed to be criss-crossing the store and back-tracking repeatedly. She did, at least, save the refrigerated items for last. And she was careful to arrange the cart so that fragile items wouldn't get bumped. But overall it was an exceptionally inefficient hour of grocery shopping, unless you measure efficiency by how much knowledge got downloaded into my brain.

And then it was back to the produce section for the corn. Eight for a dollar. Apparently that's a price that can't be beat.

"You have to peel the WHOLE cob, not just part of it," DJ intoned, suiting her words to action. "Like the pineapple crown, you're not paying for the husk, so why take it home? You want nice and fluffy kernels, with no big gaps anywhere. We like our corn with a full head of hair, no bald patches. If you only peel one husk down halfway, how do you know there isn't a bald patch on the other side? How do you know there aren't wrinkly kernels somewhere else?"

By now, I was peeling with her, and I looked around for somewhere to leave the peeled husks.

"Just leave 'em on the side. Asian markets put trash cans next to the corn for this reason, but not here."

"Feels awkward. I mean, I don't see anyone else doing this."

"You part of the mindless herd?" she asked with an arched eyebrow.

I smirked at the use of my own term and shook my head.

"Better to feel awkward here in the store than to bring home bald corn and have your ladies chew you out for it."

"Right." I nodded and continued peeling.

"Ooh! How did I not notice these raspberries on sale?!?" DJ perked up and bounced in a half-turn, sending her bosoms wobbling in her tight tank top. "Any cheaper and it would be shoplifting!"

I chuckled and shook my head. Time for my next lesson.

The afternoon's instruction didn't end after leaving the store. Upon arrival at the house, DJ still had to show me WHERE everything was stored in the pantry and refrigerator and WHY those items were placed where they were. And by the time all the food was put away, I wanted nothing more than to turn on the TV and turn off my brain for a little while.

I said as much to DJ, and she checked the clock and replied, "Well, we've got almost two hours before dinnertime. I suppose we can relax for a bit before starting to cook."

I nodded and headed out of the kitchen. Flopping down onto the couch, I turned on ESPN hoping to find SportsCenter or some other show covering the still-new NFL season. The 49ers and Raiders both promised to suck this season, but I still enjoyed watching the game. But this early on a Friday afternoon, I had no such luck. And instead, after a bit of channel surfing, I found myself watching an A's game, which held some importance since they were still battling the Angels for the division (and I wanted my hometown Angels to win).

My eyes were still on the screen when I felt DJ settle onto the couch beside me. I glanced at her for a moment, noted that she was watching the TV as well, and then put my attention back on the game. But baseball must not have held all that much interest for her, since a couple of minutes later I felt her hand slide up my thigh and over my crotch.

I turned to look at her, but DJ shrugged and said, "You can watch your game. I just want to play around a little bit."

Tired from the shopping trip and a little bemused, I shrugged and returned my attention to baseball, but I couldn't help noticing the way she kept rubbing and rubbing until she felt my cock begin to stiffen. And I certainly noticed when she unbuttoned my shorts and pulled down my zipper to allow her hand access to my bare cock.

I stopped watching the boob tube completely at this point, my eyes gravitating to the very different pair of boobs presenting themselves as DJ leaned over and let me stare down the neckline of her tank top. I was breathing harder and starting to get aroused, but as her hand circled my shaft and began to stroke me, I grabbed her wrist and forced myself to look her in the eyes. "Deej ... What are you doing?"

"Too tired to realize I'm giving you a handjob? Shopping trip must have fried your brain more than I thought."

"Not what I meant."

"I told you. I just want to play around a little bit. We've got more than an hour to kill before we need to start on dinner, and it's not like I want to do my homework or anything right now. You're entertaining yourself with baseball, so I'm ... entertaining myself as well."

"Deej..."

"Relax. I know you're tired. I'm not asking you to reciprocate or anything. Just sit back and watch the game, huh?"

She had such a casual expression on her face, and I really did want to just chill out and veg for a bit. Fuck it, let her do what she wants. Shrugging, I shook my head and returned my attention to the game.

MOST of my attention.

I still noticed when she resumed stroking my dick, which had started to deflate a bit.

I still noticed when my erection reached full hardness, and she slipped off the couch to kneel at my feet and drag my shorts down to my ankles.

And I definitely noticed when she bent over and inhaled my prick, bobbing her head up and down the upper half of my shaft while using her right hand to continue stroking the lower half.

I tried to keep my attention on the game, I really did. After all, we were only doing what we both wanted, and getting some enjoyment out of it as well. I was certainly getting the opportunity to relax and zone out to a slow-paced, tension-free game of baseball. DJ got to "play around" as she put it. And the physical pleasure she was producing in me was certainly good for my sense of relaxation and well-being.

But there was a niggling emotion in the corner of my mind, something I tried to push away the moment it cropped up. Despite the push, that something stubbornly refused to leave and instead persistently grew and expanded and spread until it overwhelmed my sense of relaxation and refused to let me enjoy this simple pleasure. And that emotion was guilt.

This wasn't the first time I'd gotten a blowjob while watching TV. It wasn't even the first time DJ was the girl giving it to me. But there was something very different about our situation now than had ever been before, and that was my current single status.

Before, the relationship between me and the beautiful blonde with braided pigtails had always been clearly defined: friends-with-benefits, nothing more. She was always a member of "The Family" with access to my cock for mutual fun, and I always had a girlfriend who didn't mind. The only real exception was when SHE'D been my girlfriend.

But things weren't quite so clear anymore. True, we still considered each other a friend-with-benefits, but this time there was no other girlfriend in the picture, nor was DJ my girlfriend either. Instead, we were caught a little bit in-between: certainly friends, but perhaps more than that. We could be more than that. She wanted to be more than that. But a real relationship wasn't something I was prepared to give her right now, and knowing that, it wasn't really fair for me to be getting this blowjob right now.

It wasn't really fair for me to get "lotion-rubbed" Tuesday night, either.

And it wasn't really fair for me to sodomize her pretty little ass the day after the barbecue.

I was getting the milk for free, knowing full-well the cow would really like a commitment.

Fuck, when I stopped to think about it, the "cow" (a term that really, REALLY didn't apply very well to DJ's figure) already HAD a commitment, and hadn't I told myself not to get involved with another man's girlfriend? Yeah, I'd been reeling in the aftermath of Dawn's departure when the girls first returned to campus, but that was a long time ago now and I really SHOULD know better, with both DJ AND Brooke.

With a sigh, I looked down my body and reached to touch DJ's head. But even before I could, she popped off my deflating penis and frowned at it in confusion. I'm pretty sure she didn't have much experience with cocks going soft in her mouth BEFORE they'd cum.

"Hmm, you must be more wiped out than I thought," she murmured with a smirk.

I shook my head. "It's not that."

Her smirk vanished as she measured the solemnity of my face. Her shoulders sagged, and after a deep breath, she shook her head and commented, "You're wallowing in guilt again, aren't you?"

I blinked twice, surprised that she'd hit the nail on the head. But I recovered quickly and stroked her cheek. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. And don't feel guilty," she added. "We've already talked about this: I'm not asking you for anything more than you can give me. You're not coercing me into sexual favors, and you're not misleading me into expecting a relationship you're not ready for. Don't worry about what's going to happen between us tomorrow or the next day or the next; you just wanted to unwind for an hour or so, and I want to entertain myself in my own way as well."

"On a Friday afternoon, when any other week you'd be with your friends over at Vivian Wang's house."

"It's Project Ben. I volunteered to teach you how to grocery shop."

"When Kim would have been perfectly happy to do so before going home for the weekend, just like any other week."

She made a face. "You make it sound like a chore. It's not. All three of us enjoy teaching you."

"But you could be having fun with your friends."

"I'm having fun right here."

"By sucking on my dick."

She rubbed my penis, gently trying to coax it back to hardness. "It's my favorite toy. I like playing with it."

"You already have another man's toy to play with," I intoned seriously. "And I don't think he'd be very happy if he ever found out what you do with mine."

DJ's hand froze, and with another deep breath she sat back on her heels. I could see in her eyes that her sexual mood was now good and fully killed, and I didn't blame her. I don't know what mental justifications she'd made to rationalize her "play" with me despite having a steady boyfriend for the past eight or nine months, but I knew that neither of us had mentioned Josh at any time while we were being intimate, and for me to bring him up now was like a slap in the face.

I reached down, gathered my shorts, and pulled them up before re-buttoning and re-zipping myself. "I'm not totally comfortable with what we've been doing. I know we've always played around together, but the fact is: you DO have a boyfriend. And I DO feel guilty about what amounts to cheating, no matter how we try to rationalize it."

DJ remained where she was, on her knees at my feet. "You don't count. You're 'family'," she stated evenly, staring at some distant point to my left.

"And if that's all this really was: playtime within 'The Family', then I could handle what's going on. But it's not. You've got feelings for me, feelings that I can't return right now."

"So?" There was moisture in her eyes as she turned to face me. DJ was a tall girl, even taller-looking with her slender, model's frame. But sitting on her heels on the floor below me with that expression on her face, she looked small, almost pitiful. She gave me a look of infinite sadness, and after pursing her lips, she shrugged and added, "It's not like that's any different from before."

I frowned and furrowed my eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

She choked up for a moment, moisture forming in her eyes. "I've ALWAYS had feelings for you. Always. And except for a very, very short time – when we were together for what, a few months? – those were feelings you couldn't return to me."

"Deej--"

"I mean it," she stated vehemently, sitting up straighter. "From the time I was a little girl--"

"Girlish fantasies." Now it was my turn to interrupt. "We've been over this."

"They were; I know that. I didn't know the real you, and what I felt for you was an adolescent crush, but the way I felt WAS real. The emotions. The heartache. From puberty until the time I finally got to be your girlfriend, the one man at the top of my list was always YOU."

"The 'Perfect Me'. The idolized 'me'. Not the real me."

"Only because I didn't know you well enough yet. Now, I do."

"Do you?"

She sighed and planted her hands on her knees, and then used them to push herself up and move over to sit beside me on the couch. Interlacing her fingers, she stared at the floor for a moment before picking her head up and staring me right in the eyes. There was still moisture there, but rather than make her look sad, it simply made her crystal clear blue irises shimmer in the afternoon sunlight.

"I've more or less lived with you for about a year now. We didn't spend ALL our time together or anything, but I lived in this house and witnessed first-hand the man you truly are. I got to watch you be the most incredibly understanding, loyal, and attentive boyfriend imaginable – even BETTER than I could image, actually. When I was still in high school, I fell in love with fantasy Ben, and we broke up because I realized that I didn't know the real you. But NOW I know the real you, and the thing is: you're even BETTER than the fantasy."

I blinked rapidly, my breath short. DJ's voice was so full of raw emotion that it scared me, as did the intensity in her eyes. The praise she was laying on me was too much; it couldn't be real. Blushing, I looked down and said, "I'm not all that. Really, I'm not."

"Really, you ARE." She put a hand on top of mine. "Imagine growing up with some celebrity star's poster on your wall, fantasizing that she and you would somehow come together and be totally in love and live happily ever after. Then imagine actually MEETING that star, getting to know her, and then finding out over the course of a year that not only does she live up to your fantasies, but she's even better than your wildest dreams!"

I shook my head. "I'm not that great. I've got so many flaws and--"

"Everybody's got flaws," she interrupted. "And I know you're not perfect; didn't say you were. But I mean what I say about you being even better than I could have dreamed. I was here; I WATCHED you be the best boyfriend imaginable to Dawn. You were kind, you were caring, and you were clearly devoted to her. And I know that if that slutty, fucking WHORE hadn't fucked things up that--"

"HEY!" I barked the instant DJ said the word 'whore', grabbing and then squeezing the hand that had been on top of mine.

She looked away, breathing heavily and visibly seething. She bit her lip and avoided my attempts to make eye contact, like a scolded child who already knew she'd done wrong. But the anger was still inside her.

Jerking on her hand to make sure I had her attention, I stated seriously, "Your sister's not a whor--"

"I KNOW what she did to you," she cut me off. The vehemence had not left DJ's voice. "I SAW how badly it hurt you."

I didn't say anything right away.

"I know how badly it's STILL hurting you," she added quietly.

"I can't say it's been easy," I replied, taking a deep breath and picking my head up. "But I'm trying to move on."

"Trying to move on ... But you still love her, don't you?" There was a scratchy rawness in DJ's voice.

I blinked and looked over at her. Now the moisture had come out of her eyes. It was rolling down her cheeks.

"That's why you can't be with me, isn't it? Because you're still in love with her."

I blinked rapidly, bit my lower lip, and let out a long sigh. Hanging my head down, I shrugged and replied, "I don't know. Maybe."

DJ exhaled, a stream of air that went on for a while before she took a deep breath and then exhaled again. I watched some of the tension in her body leave her as she did this, and when she picked her head up again, she wasn't actively crying anymore.

"When she cheated, I wished more than anything in the world that I could help you, that I could be the one to make everything better for you," she stated quietly, her thousand-yard stare pointed somewhere around four months ago. "Even though I knew how much pain you were in, I couldn't help but think that it was my opportunity to be with you. That maybe you could be that awesomely amazing boyfriend for ME. I knew it was wrong of me to think that, and that it wasn't the time, but the fantasy was still there. And then you kissed me and asked me to marry you and ... ugh..."

I glanced over as she sniffled and shook her head before wiping her eyes.

"Once I got over the idea of being your rebound," she continued, "I turned my focus onto Dawn. I thought about all the ways she was a horrible girlfriend for you, trying to catch up on all the wild and crazy youthful indiscretions she never had. I don't know all of the things she and you ended up doing, but everybody knew it was Dawn pushing the boundaries of your relationship. I heard about her wanting other experiences, other men. Those are the kinds of things a girl is supposed to do while she's single, not while she's with such a loving boyfriend."

"You don't know the circumstances around--"

"Fuck the circumstances," DJ shot back. "Clearly, it all led to this. She DID cheat on you, didn't she?"

I didn't answer, instead scrutinizing the various lines and knots in the floorboards.

"I thought of myself as your voice of righteousness. Even though I was down at your house with Brooke all summer, I used to call home and tell Dawn how badly she'd fucked up, about how you were such a wonderful, perfect boyfriend, and how she'd thrown it all away with her selfish, selfish desires. She abused your trust. She made you believe your relationship would always be pure, that nothing could come between you even as she asked you to let other men stick themselves into her. I wanted her to REMEMBER how badly she'd hurt you, even though I was hundreds of miles away. Would have done it in person if I'd stayed up here for the summer. She stopped answering my calls after the third one and would hang up before letting me say a word when I called home and had Mom or Dad pass her the phone."

That picked my head up. "You really did that?"

DJ nodded, and then she scowled. "You were a perfect boyfriend. Okay, well maybe not perfect – you certainly were too stupid and blindly faithful to see the train wreck that was coming – but you were the best boyfriend any man could be. She's the one who failed you. She's the one who couldn't be satisfied with your relationship. And she's the one who cheated."

I hung my head again, DJ's words bringing me back to that horrific time in my life that had culminated with losing my breakfast all over the bedroom floor.

"And after all the fucking horrible things she did to you, you're still fucking in love with her..." DJ spat finally, a world of bitterness in her voice.

I took several deep breaths, wondering myself why I was still in love with Dawn. She HAD cheated on me. She HAD abused my trust in our relationship. And for the moment, at least, I couldn't remember WHY the hell I was waiting for her to come home. After all, what had she really done to deserve my patience?

DJ stood abruptly. Her face was a mask of anger, and she was still seething. Right now, she didn't look at me like I was a man even better than her wildest dreams; she looked at me with disgust, wondering what the fuck was wrong with me. And then without another word, she turned and stalked away.

"Deej..." I called after her.

"Figure out dinner yourself," she spat over her shoulder, without turning around. "Unless you're truly so pathetic that you can't handle that."

I sighed. Well, at least I didn't have to worry about DJ thinking I was perfect or anything.

Now what?

I did manage to figure out dinner myself, falling back on tried and true spaghetti with Prego-based meat sauce. I could brown ground beef just fine, and I spooned out the excess oil just like Brooke liked. Trying to show off, I even diced up some raw onions and garlic to add to the base mix. Steaming broccoli isn't that hard once you try it. And the garlic bread was store bought stuff we kept in the freezer.

Since she wasn't on Project Ben duty, Kim had left early to return to her family and have dinner with them. But Brooke did come back from hanging out at Vivian Wang's place in time for dinner, and I gathered that DJ had gone there in the intervening couple of hours as well.

When DJ arrived along with Brooke, she showed no outward signs of the argument we'd gotten into that led to her departure. Apparently she'd told Brooke that I'd shooed her away while insisting in my male ego-driven way that I could handle dinner myself. As Brooke gushed over how well I'd done for myself, my arched eyebrow at DJ was met with a glare that dared me to contradict her lie, but I thought it best to just leave things alone.

After dinner, the girls dragged me out with their boyfriends to see a movie. There was some argument between them on whether to watch Tim Burton's Corpse Bride or fluffy rom-com Just Like Heaven. As fifth wheel, I was called upon to break the tie, and I went with the animated semi-creepy stuff instead of over-baked schmaltz.

Corpse Bride was a fairly enjoyable movie, and I had that piano duet stuck in my head for weeks afterward. But we had some disagreement about the ending. Four of us thought Victor really belonged with Emily, the Corpse Bride, instead of Victoria. After all, the vast majority of the movie was centered around Victor and Emily and their burgeoning romance. Only DJ disagreed, stating that screen time alone didn't make them a good couple. She was dead; he wasn't. And as magical as their chemistry was for a little while, Emily had to go off to where she belonged, while Victoria would clearly be a devoted and caring wife.

You'll understand that I wasn't 100% sure DJ was talking about the movie.

In any case, I had the girls drop me off at the house so I could stop being a fifth wheel, and the four of them took off to go necking somewhere. You'd think that the young couples would be more comfortable in our big, empty house, but for some reason both guys were always a little hesitant about being with their girlfriends while big brother was around. At least the guys had their own apartment elsewhere.

I settled into my desk chair and started to do some homework (yes, homework on a Friday night). With the rest of my weeknights filled with Project Ben activities, I had precious little study time apart from what I got done while studying together with Bert, Sasha, and Kim (which wasn't much; we were too busy socializing). But about an hour after returning to the house, Brooke came into the room, pulled my chair out from under the desk, and then swung a leg over to straddle me and sit down in my lap.

"Hey there," she said by way of greeting.

"Uh, hey," I replied in amused surprise. And then there was no more time for words before she tilted her head and stuck her tongue into my mouth.

We necked for a couple of minutes, me just hanging back and letting my little sister have her way with me. But when she pulled back to breathe and reached down to pull her shirt over her head, I had to pause and say, "Not complaining, but what are you doing here?"

"DJ and Josh got into an argument over at the boys' place. Joel and I had gotten started, but the sounds of their yelling kind of killed the mood. I told Joel we'd try again tomorrow, and then he walked me back here."

"I see..."

"Not totally sure you do. Joel got his first cum. I didn't. So I'm all worked up and I need you to take care of that for me. Can you do that for me, big brother?"

I didn't answer her except to hoist her butt up onto my desk. The long skirt she'd worn for the date night was easy to lift up and out of the way, and I merely had to pull her panties aside before shoving my tongue as far as it would go up her snatch. Brooke's labia were already quite wet and parted in sexual anticipation, so it was easy for me to get good depth. And both the scent and taste of her were instantly arousing for me, not to mention the erotic moan she let out while grabbing my head with both hands and shoving it into her crotch.

For a brief moment, I thought about that resolution I'd made to myself about not getting involved with another man's girlfriend. But oddly enough, while I clung to that resolution as a reason for why I shouldn't be messing around with DJ, it really didn't bother me when thinking about Brooke. Sure, the thing with Matt and Brandi had certainly gone pear-shaped, but when staring Brooke's wet pussy in the face (literally), all that mattered to me was making her happy.

That said, I brought her to the brink twice without letting her go over the edge, something that didn't sit too well with my notoriously impatient little sister. After the second time, she started whapping me on the head with the flat of her hand, whining, "Stop fucking around with me, you fucking bastard! I'm NOT in the mood to wait!"

I grinned and ignored her, working her up toward another peak without any intention of getting her off. This was a frequent game between Brooke and me; we both knew about her impatience when she was really turned on. But we also both knew that when she FINALLY got that climax after such a long build-up, she really DID like it so much better than if I'd just popped her off right in the beginning.

One problem: I was still teasing Brooke around the edges of orgasm when my door opened again, and with a face-full of incestuous pussy juice I spun around in a panic.

Thankfully, it was just DJ.

"OH MY FUCKING GAWD! HOW MANY TIMES TONIGHT ARE YOU GOING TO RUIN MY ORGASM?!?" Brooke howled loud enough for the neighbors to hear (though I sincerely hope they actually didn't).

DJ shook her head while simultaneously stripping off her clothes. "Sorry. Not on purpose. I'll make it up to you right now."

At first, Brooke nodded her agreement. But a second later, she sat up straight, snapped her legs together, and fixed an intensely scrutinizing gaze on DJ, complete with furrowed brow and deep frown. "Waitaminute," she began, her frown deepening even further. "What happened?"

"Nothing. It can wait. Right now, I really just need to get laid." DJ's shirt was already off, and as she finished that sentence she unhooked her bra and started tugging the straps down her arms.

I'd been hard eating Brooke before, but now seeing DJ's mouthwatering melons set free, my dick could cut through ice.

"No-no-no-no-no." Brooke pitched forward and dropped off the desk, and then separated her feet a little wider while planting both hands on her hips. "No, it can't wait. What the hell happened between you and Josh?"

DJ visibly deflated. Looking to the side and down, she shrank a bit before crossing her arms over her chest, covering her breasts. "We broke up."

Though she seemed to be expecting the answer, Brooke still looked shocked. Her jaw dropped and her eyes went wide. And then grabbing her shirt off my desk, she stalked forward and grabbed DJ's arm. "Okay, girl. You and me, we're going downstairs to talk RIGHT NOW."

"No, no really," DJ protested, not accepting her own shirt and bra as Brooke tried to thrust them into her arms. "It can wait. I need this first. I need to get laid."

"Not with Ben you don't. Not this soon," Brooke insisted.

"YES. Now!" DJ insisted even more vehemently.

"Absolutely not. No way. Ben, tell her."

I blinked in surprise, my dick straining to get closer to DJ's semi-nude body. "Uh, what?"

Brooke just rolled her eyes before dropping her head back and sighing. "Stupid boys. Never mind." With that, she once again got a firm grip on DJ's elbow and physically yanked her out my door and down the stairs, nevermind that the blonde's clothes were still on my floor.

Now what?

Getting re-focused on homework was impossible after that. It was after 11pm now, so I figured I might as well turn in. I took a shower, went through my nightly routine, and then crawled into bed. It wasn't easy to fall asleep though, as my mind kept going over all the things that had happened to me today: DJ's disgust that I was still in love with Dawn, DJ's break-up with Josh and what may have caused it, and yes, I even went over the lessons I'd learned about how to pick fruit.

So even though the lights were off, I was still awake when my bedroom door opened and a warm body slipped under the covers beside me. Perhaps thinking I was already asleep, she was as quiet as possible as she molded her body alongside mine. And since I didn't move until after she'd slid a hand inside my shorts to start petting my cock, DJ must have jumped about a foot off the bed when I put my hand on top of hers and asked, "What are you doing?"

But she recovered quickly. While I slid to the side and turned on the lamp on my nightstand, the ridiculously beautiful blonde wearing an extremely sheer pink nightie sat up and brushed her loose hair behind one ear while replying, "Finishing what we started this afternoon."

"This afternoon, we had a somewhat heated discussion concerning my relationship and break-up with your older sister."

"Before that," she replied with a somewhat forced smile and a waved hand attempt at being playful.

I took a deep breath and forced myself not to look at her scantily clad body, an effort not made any easier by the way she deliberately let the covers drop to her waist before thrusting her bosom out for closer inspection. Not unlike Brooke's frustration this evening with getting worked up without any payoff, I too was feeling a little backed up after this afternoon's aborted blowjob and this evening's incestuous cunnilingus. But my big head won out over my little head, and shaking my big head I replied seriously, "This isn't the time."

"It's the perfect time. I'm horny, I'm single again, and I really, really want to get LAID."

"Not the night that you broke up with your boyfriend."

"It's the BEST way to get over a break-up. I'm moving on. I'm remembering that there are others out there that can make me happy."

"You want ME to make you happy tonight. But you already know why we can't. You're right: I'm still hung up on Dawn right now. I like you, Deej. I even love you. But I'm in no shape for a relationship. You can't just drop Josh and then have me. Really, you shouldn't have broken up with your boyfriend for me. I didn't ask you to do that."

"Who says I broke up with Josh for YOU?"

I blinked, and then I furrowed my eyebrows. "Uh, didn't you?"

"Jeez, self-centered much? Not everything in my life is about YOU, asshole."

I rocked my head back at her unexpected curse. "Then ... why?"

"I broke up with Josh for ME. It wasn't working. End of story."

"C'mon, you two were happy. You've been together for what, nine months?"

"Not every relationship lasts. We drifted apart a lot over the summer while I was down in OC with Brooke on that internship. It happens."

"So ... this has nothing to do with me saying this afternoon that I wasn't comfortable with you cheating on your boyfriend with me?"

"Again, not EVERYTHING is about YOU! I'm my own woman. I make my own decisions. And like it or not, buster, my life is not entirely spent pining away over YOU! Gawd!" She threw her hands up and spun around, swinging her legs off the bed and then sliding her feet down to the floor.

"Deej..."

"Such an EGO. You think every woman around you is SOOO infatuated with the Big Ben Experience that they just fall over themselves to submit themselves to your every whim. You think we are all totally head over heels for you and would give up our left arms if it meant a chance to have you, only we don't because we figure you'll like us better with that left arm so we can use both hands while giving you blowjobs!"

"Deej..."

"You know what? Fuck you! Or better yet, NOT fuck you!"

I sighed and winced, trying to make sense of the whirling ball of anger now standing next to my bed, flinging her arms at me as exclamation points to her ... uh ... exclamations.

"Yeah, NOT fuck you. I was going to celebrate my new singlehood tonight. I'm amped up with energy over removing the dead weight of my ex-boyfriend from my shoulders, and I would have given you the fucking of your life tonight. But no. NO! Instead, I'm going downstairs and I'm going to get my favorite strap-on and I'm going to have very crazy, very LOUD sex with Brooke in the bedroom right beneath yours! And you, sir, Mister Egotist who thinks I'm dumping Josh JUST so I can take a run at you, you can very well stay up here and fuck yourself!"

And then she spun out of the room and slammed the door shut behind her.

Sigh ... now what?