Authors Note: This is the promised sequel to My Jump Off & Staking My Claim. I hope you enjoy it. This story contains sex between males. If such material offends you, close this window . If it's illegal for you to view this story, write your congressman.
"Young lady, get back here right now!" my dad hollered, but my sister wasn't listening. Instead, she stormed up the stairs to her room, where she slammed her door loudly. My dad just stood still and shook his head, obviously irritated but not at his boiling point yet. It's kinda funny how people have a certain point where they can no longer contain their anger toward people and how they react. When it happens at home, my dad reacts by going into the back yard and chopping firewood. My mom reacts by grounding us or taking something away, and my sister reacts by slamming doors and screaming in people's faces.
On this day, it was my mom who had reached a breaking point with my sister over the state of her room, and it was my sister who reached her own breaking point when my mom grounded her until her room was cleaned. She tried screaming in my mom's face, but my dad got involved and that's where things got interesting, at least from my perspective.
"Sabrina, you'll apologize to your mother right now," my dad told her assertively, but my sister only scoffed at him.
"No I won't," she shouted at him, so he gave her one more chance. When she didn't take it, things got worse.
"Okay, never mind then," he said calmly. "You'll go clean your room right now, and you're grounded for a week no matter what. If you don't clean your room, we can make it a month."
"I hate you!" were her last words, vocalized at what sounded like a hundred decibels before she turned and stomped off to her room over my father's protests.
"Little fucking brat," my dad said under his breath, and I knew it was best to pretend I didn't hear him, even though he was right. To be fair, though, she was only a brat because my folks spoiled the fucking shit out of her all the time. I thought back on my days as a thirteen year old and how badly I lashed out at my parents, and I knew that it would be ten times worse with my sister. She was only ten and already sassing them. I imagined that by the time she was thirteen, my folks would have her enrolled in one of those boot camps for out of control teenagers.
When my parents disappeared into the kitchen, I quietly made my way up the stairs and knocked at her door. When she opened it and saw it was me, she smiled sadly and let me in. I looked around her room, examining the clutter and disarray, then I took a seat on her bed.
"You know you're just making life harder on yourself, don't you?" I asked, and she sighed.
"Why do they have to be so stupid," she complained, and I smiled sympathetically at her. I'd been there many times with my mom and dad, but luckily, those times were becoming fewer and far between.
"Sometimes it's smarter to just give them their way," I told her.
"Why do they even care what my room looks like?" she asked, her voice laced with frustration. "They aren't the ones who sleep in here. I am."
"I know that, sis, and I agree with you that they're making a big deal out of nothing," I told her. "But you have to pick your battles with them, otherwise you'll never win. Do you need some help picking up in here?"
With that, she finally smiled and nodded, and we got to work. While we were organizing and sorting laundry, we talked a little more about our parents and I did my best to try and convey to her that the best way to deal with the things they clashed on was to give a little so that there was some wiggle room for negotiation. But that's something beyond her scope of comprehension right now. In a few more years, she'll get it, but for now, it's a concept that goes right over her head.
"I'll tell you what," I told her as we finished up. "You take your laundry downstairs and tell mom and dad that you're sorry, and later on, I'll talk to them and see if they'll budge on un-grounding you, okay?"
"I love you Phillip," she said, moving toward me for a hug.
"I love you too sis," I told her, giving her a firm hug before we went our separate ways for the morning.
I try to be as good of a brother as I can. The way I see it, I have one chance to be a good big brother, and I have to make the most of that chance. And of course, I love my little sister, even though she can get on my nerves sometimes. Just like my parents, I have a hard time telling her no because she's the baby. The week before, I took her to the roller rink because my mom and dad were going out and she had her heart set on rollerblading. I wasn't exactly in the mood, and I had a ton of homework to do, but I made the sacrifice and wound up staying awake past two in the morning getting it done.
Just like I promised, I took my mom and dad to the side after lunch and did my best to convince them that Sabrina deserved another chance not to be grounded. I suggested that they go talk to her, and that if she agreed to load the dishwasher after dinner, that they un-ground her.
"That doesn't sound like much of a task," my dad said, and I gave him a pointed look.
"Dad, she's a little girl," I reminded him. "I didn't load the dishwasher when I was ten. I didn't do any chores when I was ten. Remember?"
My dad let out a sigh and looked over at my mom, who I could tell was ready to give in.
"I don't know, Phillip," my dad said. "She was pretty rotten this morning."
"Yeah but she's sorry," I told him. "She feels really bad, and she doesn't normally act that way, does she?"
"What do you think, honey?" my dad asked, turning to my mom for some input.
"Let's give her a chance," she said, giving in to my logic.
"Are you busy?" I asked over the phone.
"No, I can talk," Andrew said sweetly. "I was thinking about you today."
"Really?" I said playfully. "What were you thinking?"
"Nothing too serious," he said nonchalantly. "Just about you and me, naked with a can of whip cream, an electric egg beater, a live octopus and a king sized bed."
With that, I laid still on my bed and tried to keep my laughter under control, not wanting to wake my folks up.
"You're killing me," I told him. "I was thinking of almost the exact same thing, except instead of the octopus, I was thinking about a side of beef. Oh, and we'll need a camera to record everything."
"Sounds kinky," he said seductively. "I missed you this weekend."
"I missed you too," I told him, feeling a little guilty because Jarred wanted to call him and Kyle K to see if they wanted to camp with us, but I told him not too. "Did I tell you about my car?"
Changing the subject seemed like the right thing to do at the moment. Reaching out to Andrew Stout at midnight, when we both have to be at school in seven and a half hours, seems like a ludicrous idea, but to tell the truth, I wasn't lying when I said that I missed him. I missed him terribly, and it was hard to be apart from him for more than a few hours at a time.
This time, I had gone a full weekend without seeing him, but I did it for my own good. I needed time to sort things out in my head, especially where it pertained to me and Jarred. That wasn't my real intention when we went camping, but I think that somewhere below the surface, deep down in my subconscious, the thought was lurking. Because I had done a ton of analysis while we were alone together, and I didn't feel good about what I was coming away with.
I think that the worst part of it all was that Andrew was with Kyle. Well, sort of. They were like an on again, off again item. One minute they were making progress, then in the blink of an eye, Kyle would say that things were moving too fast and that he wanted to slow things down. A few days later, they'd be holding hands and trying to swallow each other's tongues. Andrew was getting frustrated that Kyle didn't want to have sex, and I get the feeling that Kyle was feeling uncomfortable pressure from Andrew to get with the program, so to speak.
They really could be a cute couple if they would get on the same page, but it never seems to happen, and inevitably, Andrew and I wind up in the sack whenever they go through one of their cooling off periods. To his credit, though, Andrew isn't ready to give up on Kyle just yet, but that's a major point of frustration for me.
Maybe if Andrew would decide to call things off for good with Kyle, I'd have the incentive to do the same with Jarred and we could finally be together. Then again, maybe if I called things off with Jarred, I could convince Andrew to be mine exclusively. And maybe if frogs had wings, they wouldn't bump their ass every time they used their legs.
Who in the hell was I kidding? Kyle was one of my best friends in the world, and I'd never want to see him hurt. I think he knows that Andrew comes to me for sex when they aren't officially together, but we've never discussed the topic. But the idea that Andrew and I could ever end up together and still maintain our circle of friends is nothing more than a romantic ideal. If Andrew left Kyle for me and I left Jarred for Andrew, it would be devastating to the whole group. Also, I consider Kyle to be too good of a friend to ever want to see him hurt like that.
Now, if Kyle and Andrew break things off amicably and stay friends, that might be a different story, but there's still the Jarred factor. Then again, I'm still cheating on him, but for all I know, he could be doing the same thing.
"Do you think we can see each other tomorrow?" Andrew asked in a husky voice.
"Sure, if that's okay," I said, not aware that he and Kyle were going through another cooling off faze. "Things slow down for you and Kyle?"
"You know how it is," he told me, his voice laced with sorrow. "I tried talking to him about things, but he acts funny when I bring it up. I didn't even talk to him today. I called but he never called me back."
"I'm sorry, my love," I told him sympathetically. "Do you want me to pick you up at school tomorrow?"
"Yeah, I'll wait across the street," he said. "You'll be by yourself?"
"I'll tell him I have to work tomorrow," I said. By "him" I meant Jarred, but Andrew already knew that.
"I can't wait," he said. "I love you."
"I talked to Kyle today," I mentioned casually as Andrew lay in the crook of my arm, obviously contented thanks to the sex we'd just had.
"What'd he have to say?" Andrew asked.
"Just that he talked to you earlier today," I reported. "He said he called you before he had PE."
"He did," Andrew confirmed with a sigh. "Sometimes I just..." and his voice trailed off. It was obvious that he was in deep thought, searching for the words he needed to vocalize his frustration with Kyle K.
"Did you guys argue?" I asked, and he shook his head.
"We never argue," he said. "We never do anything. I don't know what we're doing."
With that, I gently lifted his right hand to my lips and kissed the back of it, then I brought it to my cheek and let it softly caress my skin, wishing that we could be frozen in that moment forever. Wishing that I had broken things off with Jarred when I had a chance to, and wishing that Kyle and Andrew had never hooked up.
It all seemed so hasty the way it unraveled, but at the time, it felt like it was for the best. Now I have nothing but regrets, and I feel like Andrew and I are both stuck in relationships that we can't be happy in. Even worse, as an unintended consequence, Jarred and Kyle are likely to be the ones hurt the most.
Neither one of them deserves it.
But what else can we do? I can't let go of my feelings for Andrew. He honestly makes me whole, gives my life meaning, and fills the space in my life that was always there because there was something missing. If Jarred and I were meant to be, wouldn't he have filled that empty space?
And yet, as the love of my life lay still in my arms, our warm, naked bodies still alive with the passion of our love making, I found myself pondering our future. It should be such a no-brainer, but things just aren't that simple, and it sucks. Andrew fits my body like a glove, and there's never a question that he's glad to see me. If Andrew were to tell me right then and there that we weren't having sex anymore, he'd still be the love of my life and I'd still sneak off to be with him.
But he'd never do that, because if there's one unmistakable truth about Andrew Stout, it's that he loves it when I bed him, and this afternoon would prove to be no exception. He was waiting for me at the Silver Diner across the street from his school, but when I pulled up he didn't recognize me in the Pontiac. I mentioned that my car was in the shop, but I forgot to tell him that I was pushing my dad's Grand Am around in the meanwhile. I felt a little embarrassed when he got in and the dash was rumbling, but he didn't say a word.
"Sorry I had to come get you in this who ride," I said sheepishly, and he giggled.
"It's not so bad," he said, looking to his left and his right before he planted a quick kiss on my cheek. "I missed you."
"I missed you too, lover," I said, taking his hand in mine as we turned out of the parking lot and drove straight to his house, where we knew his folks wouldn't be home for at least another two hours. Andrew opened the garage door so we could hide the Grand Am in case someone happened to come by and see it there.
When we got inside, I found out just how badly Andrew missed me, because he instantly wrapped his arms around me and attacked my mouth with his, kissing me hungrily. By the time we made it up the stairs to his room, his pants were unbuttoned and he was reaching down to do the same to mine.
We broke our kiss long enough to get naked, then we were back in each other's arms. I felt him reach down and grab my throbbing hard on with his hands, giving it about a half a dozen long strokes before he slid down my body and took it into his mouth. As he took it all the way in, my toes curled and I knew it wouldn't be long before I came. I could feel him deep throating my cock, and when I gazed down at him, he had a hungry look in his eyes that told me he wasn't in the mood to fuck around today. He wanted sex, and he wanted it badly.
Finally, I gave in to my body's signals and let loose with the force of a .357, right into Andrew's mouth. When I was finished shooting, he sat up and swallowed, then he grinned at me as he seductively laid down on the bed with his legs wide open. From there I took the initiative and crawled on top of him, anxious to repay his devotion to pleasing me first. I lifted his legs as we kissed, hoisting them over my shoulders but was careful not to penetrate him just yet. I rubbed his hot entrance with the tips of my fingers, then I broke our kiss and used my tongue to paint a moist trail all the way down his body. I bypassed his stiff cock and balls and centered in on his love tunnel, deftly spearing in and out of it, then slowing down so that he could achieve the maximum amount of pleasure.
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