“I asked you a question, motherfucker.”

Bill remained mute.

“Nothing to say?”

Still no response.

Attempt number one to step past her failed as she blocked him on the left. Attempt number two fared no better as she blocked him on the right.

“Don’t wanna say anything?” She folded her arms and squinted. “Alright, let’s see what mom thinks of this.”

“Frankie, wait. Frankie, please.” Bill pushed out his palms and squatted to her height.

“Oh, so you can still talk? Ain’t that something?”

“Let me explain.”

“What is there to explain? Whatever reason you had for snooping around in here, the moment I started getting it on with three dudes, didn’t you think that would’ve been the best time to – I dunno – announce yourself? Say, ‘here I am’, or something? You watched me have sex, Bill. Not even just regular sex. I got nailed by three dudes. Three!”

“I saw,” he murmured with his head turned away.

“Hey, no-no, you look at me.”

He stayed put.

“Look. At. Me.”

Bill faced her.

“There’s cum on the floor. Why is there cum on the floor, Bill?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, folded his lips and breathed audibly.

“I’ll tell you why. Because you jerked off to me getting fucked, didn’t you?”

“Frankie, I–”

“Didn’t… you?” She stepped close enough that her sharp breathing rippled Bill’s shirt.

“Frankie, let’s forget about thi–”

“Shut up. You listen to me now.”

Bill nodded.

“I don’t wanna hear any excuses, justifications, none of that. You want my silence? Well, you gotta do whatever I want for the time I’m here. Do we have an understanding?”

“Come on, Fra–”

“Do we have a fucking understanding?”

“Yes. Yes, alright. Just please, don’t tell your mother, this would kill her.”

“What? That her daughter’s a slut or that her husband jacks off to her being one?”

“She already knows the first option,” he thought.

 “First favour,” Frankie said, “clean up your fucking mess.” She pointed at the patch of ground covered in semen.

“Frankie…”

“Now!”

And with that, she stormed out of the room, through the hallway and slammed the bathroom door.

***

Belleville Pharmacy was not often visited by the Lordes, but when it was, it never was for that morning’s intended purchase.

“This shouldn’t take long,” Frankie said. A denim trucker cap – ponytail through the rear-hole – along with a tight midriff and white jean shorts were her uniform for their trip. The temperature between step-father and step-daughter had cooled somewhat, but not to the point where the awkwardness had vanished from the previous day’s events. Bright and early, she demanded that Bill take her to the pharmacy for Plan B, which wasn’t too horrible of a favour in his mind.

Thirty minutes later, Frankie pulled at the locked jeep door and woke her stepfather from an impromptu nap.

“Hey, open up,” she said, knocking on the passenger side window.

Bill clicked the universal lock and Frankie pulled with barely a micro second’s hesitation.

“Sooo,” she droned, “I’m gonna be bored at home, so I’m gonna need a gaming system.” The passenger door closed after the statement.

“Aren’t you too old to be playing video games?” Bill set his reclined seat to his preferred driving position – not too straight, not too far back.

“I’m twenty-one. People in their forties, hell fifties, play games nowadays. What are you, like sixty-five?”

“Fifty-five, you little shit.”

“Buy one for me or I’m telling mom, you big pervert.”

Bill swung the ignition and nosed out of the parking lot towards whatever destination would satiate his new dictator’s request.

***

A mixed crowd of patrons poured through the mall’s centre-piece which was the main food court. With the goal purchase already made, the time to refuel since their early morning departure had come. For Frankie, a cheeseburger with a bowl of fries and a sixteen-ounce Cola would do. Bill, sitting opposite, kept his head down while devouring his chicken-fried rice – no beverage included.

“We’re going home after this. Tired and I want to watch some T.V,” Bill said.

“I go when I say we go.” Frankie’s jaw dropped like a drawbridge and slammed shut over a large portion of her burger. Mayonnaise dribbled from her bottom lip and Bill stared and chuckled.

“What?” she asked with her mouth full.

“You swallowed everything that guy gave you yesterday, but you can’t keep it together for a hamburger?”

“Better at sucking fat dicks than eating fast food I guess.” Another sizeable chunk disappeared into her mouth.

“Right. And hey, I’m the driver, so we go when I’m good and ready.”

“You can go, but you know mom and I will have a very interesting conversation when I get home.”

Bill grumbled and picked at his chicken-fried rice with a frown now. From a few feet away, a brown-haired young gentleman around his height and of medium stature called out to him.

“Hey, Bill, what’s up?”

“Scott, get your ass over here.” Bill waved him across and Frankie squinted at her step-father, sitting up straight in anticipation of what was coming from behind.

“Oh, hi there.” The dimple-chinned youth stood next to Frankie and extended his hand. “I’m Scott.”

“Yeah, I gathered that.” She shook his hand and smiled. The toned arms sprouting from his tight-fitting polo made her scan him from head to toe in admiration of his equally sculpted physique. “I’m Francesca, but everyone calls me Frankie.”

“What brings you here, Scott?” Bill grinned at the interruption, switching between the youngsters, but keeping a larger focus on Frankie.

“Had to bring the wife to buy something or the other. Y’know how it is.”

“Something or the other?” Frankie asked. “That’s your wife, shouldn’t you know?”

“It’s hard to keep track with all the yelling sometimes.” Scott’s smile devolved into a brief frown before the initial expression returned.

“Scott!” A tall, slim raven-haired woman bellowed over the crowd. “Hey, Bill, how the hell are ya? Scott, I’m ready, let’s go!”

“Coming, sweetheart.” Scott pinched his eyes shut, then reopened and said, “Anyways, guys, gotta run. Nice meeting you, Frankie.” He jogged off into the raven-haired woman’s direction.

“Nice meeting you too… Scott,” Frankie murmured.

Bill resumed his meal along with his manor before Scott’s welcome intrusion.

“So, how do you know him?”

Her step-father looked up, continued chewing with his eyes half-opened then peered into his carton.

“Well?” she asked.

“He works with me and he’s married.”

“He kinda mentioned the last part.”

“I’m mentioning it again.” He pointed at her with an elbow affixed to the round table. “Don’t get any ideas.”

“Too late, I already got ‘em. I had ‘em before I even asked.”

“Okay.”

“Set us up.”

Bill threw down his fork and sat up straight, glowering at her.

“And how do you propose I do that?”

“I dunno. He a gamer too?”

“A what?”

“Jesus Christ, does he play video games?”

“I think so, yes.”

“I’ll give you my gamer tag tomorrow to give him.”

“Alright.”

“Jealous?”

“Of… what?”

“That he’ll fuck me and you won’t ever get to.”

“Oh, please.”

“You obviously want to. That’s why you’ve always had it in for me.”

“You’re the one that was the little shit-stain when your mother and I first got together. I was absolutely nice to you.”

“Uh-huh, because you wanted to work soo hard for my approval? When mom first introduced us, I wanted to hurl. My dad was a real man – God rest his soul – and all I could think was, ‘Mom’s dating this?’”

Bill scooped a forkful of rice into his mouth with a blank expression.

“Screw you, Frankie.”

“No, you can’t.”

***

The Lordes’ front door clicked open to expose the mismatched silhouettes of Amanda’s most important duo. If their earlier civility piqued her interest, their afternoon banter gave her true hope for the first time since they met several years ago.

“Do I have to set this up for you too?” Bill rested the shopping bag down containing the gaming console.

“That’s fine, I already know how to. Thanks again for buying it, Bill.” Frankie skipped ahead and pecked her mother’s cheek before skipping some more to the bottom of the staircase.

“Sure, don’t mention it.” He scooted the bag closer to the T.V and plopped down onto the three-seater directly facing it.

“Hmm,” started Amanda, “Not perfect, but I must say, I’m impressed.”

“By what?” Frankie asked.

“Yeah, by what?” Bill chimed in while thumbing the power button on the television remote.

“You guys are actually getting along. Not perfect, but I can live with it.” Amanda nodded her smiling face and continued stirring a large pot.

“Anything for you, my love.” Bill raised his remote holding hand without looking behind him.

“Don’t push it, my love.” Amanda stared daggers into his thinning top.

“Hey, Bill, I got a cool video to send you.” Frankie made two steps up the staircase.

“Oooh, do I get in on this too?” Amanda asked.

“No, mom, it’s a little inside thing only Bill would pick up on.” A wicked smirk stretched her daughter’s tiny features and she climbed the remaining stairs. By the time Bill swung around, she was out of view and he turned back to the television.

“I’ll check it after my show.”

***

Late afternoon naps were not a luxury Bill often indulged in, but with endless re-runs on the television, he relinquished control to his wife so that she could enjoy some downtime after turning off the stove – pasta and meatballs, which he’d dig into later.

“Almost forgot.” He sat up and retrieved the phone from the bedside counter, unlocked it and clicked the message notification from Shit-Stain, which read ‘This is really cool.’

Upon opening it, a box with Frankie’s sour mug appeared under a translucent white triangle pointing right. She wore no make-up; her shoulders exposed and sunlight cast her room a bright yellow.

“This from this morning?”

A click later and Frankie spoke while keeping the camera at face level.

“Since you like spying on me, let me give you something more for that spank bank.” The camera lowered to expose her orange-sized globes with brown, tube-like nipples at the end.

“What in the world?” Bill uttered.

“I bet you wanna suck on these so bad, don’t you? Perv.” She shined her nipples with saliva using her index and middle fingers. “Mmm, shit.”

Bill sat up and maintained a watchful eye between the video and the bedroom door.

Moans pierced the phone’s speaker and he scrambled to lower the volume before her slicked fingers found their way to her clit. Her movements were like vertical paintbrush strokes, which then shifted to circular doodles. The canvas flushed pinker and reflected the more attention it received.

Squish. Squish.

Those were the sounds her pussy made as she curled two fingers inside and agitated them. She leaned forward, placed the phone on its stand and reclined to give the viewer a full show of pussy-fingering and tit-kneading. The wagging of tongues and rolling of eyes were bonus features for her single-member audience.

“Cumming,” she whispered, then stopped rubbing, reached over to her right and plucked a red dildo from off-screen. She hugged the pits of her knees – slanting her body so her face was still visible – with one arm and bulged her eyeballs as the dildo penetrated her glossy cunt. Aggressive self-fucking followed which jiggled her buttocks like jello on a plate.

“Fuuuck, yesss,” she hissed while staring directly at the camera, jaw hung and nodding as her wet hole took its battering.

“You wish this was your cock, don’t you? You wish this was your cock fucking my tight, young pussy huh? This hot, wet cunt? Uh-huh?” Her eyes crossed and lips pursed until she shuddered with the violence of an exploding cannon. Spit bubbles formed on her lips and she looked into the distance as if someone switched off her brain. A parallel universe beckoned, but this reality pulled her back and she uttered, ‘Fuck,’ before collapsing into a panting heap of jumbled limbs.

“Jesus.” Bill brought the phone closer and furrowed his brows, sitting forward and folding his legs Native American style. Similar actions played out on screen, and an exhausted Frankie spoke again with a wry smile.

“So near, yet so far,” she giggled, then zoomed in to fill the shot with a visage absent of emotion. “I own your ass, Billy boy; remember that.”

With that, Bill’s screen cut to black.