Jackie's mom was waiting for us inside. She glared at us as we scooted past her. The door shut.

"Why are you late? And who is this? And what happened to his shirt?" she asked.

"Mom!" Jackie whined. "Everything's fine."

"No, no. Everyone back here. All of you. What is going on?"

I held out my hand. "I'm Justin."

The pretty, forty-year-old version of Jackie very reluctantly extended her arm and shook it. "Um, I'm Claire."

"I see where Jackie gets it from."

She wrinkled her forehead. "Gets what?"

"You look just like her. Sisters?"

The wrinkles disappeared.

"Anyway," I continued, "we were just walking home when we—"

"We tripped!" Jackie blurted out. "All of us! It was dark you see, and we weren't paying attention and..."

"And this polite young man's shirt just vanished? Is that what you're telling me?" Claire asked, interrupting her daughter.

Jackie looked down at her feet but the interrogation was far from over.

"And what happened to you, Alex? Is that a bump on your head?"

"I tripped," he said.

Claire frowned. "So you're sticking to that story, huh?"

"No! I really did, I swear."

"He's not lying, ma'am," I said. "But he tripped very bravely."

She threw up her hands. "Inside. All of you. On the couch. Right now!"

Her house was spacious, much larger than Alex's tiny apartment across the street. The TV mounted to the wall in the living room had nearly the same area as the wall itself. The sofa was nicer too, and it was leather. I leaned forward. Claire's eyes were thoughtful and patient.

They changed through the retelling of the story though. It's like they were more focused as if they honed in on me and me alone. She didn't even look away when Jackie or Alex added their perspectives. Finally, she sat back in her chair.

"Don't tell Dad though, OK?" Jackie pleaded.

"Shh! And you expect me to believe that? You were in a fight, and you—you beat up three boys all by yourself?"

"Yes ma'am." It was the truth, just not the whole truth. Some details had been omitted.

"And you're not hurt? Not a scratch on you?" the skeptical woman asked.

"Well, just my shirt I guess."

"So you're not going to tell dad?" Jackie asked again.

Claire considered for a moment then shook her head. She turned to Alex. "And you're OK?"

He yawned. "Yeah, I'm just sleepy, that's all. It was a long day."

"Welcome to the rest of your life. I just hope you two don't spend it at Value Mart."

"My friend, Melinda, told me the same thing," I said.

"She sounds like a very smart woman."

Alex frowned.

Claire studied him. She set her hands on her jeans and rubbed. "Well, you can sleep here tonight. You know you're always welcome here, Alex. We have food. I haven't seen your sister come home yet, I think she's working. So just call her and let her know." Then, she turned to me.

It was like staring down a judge as he unfolded a tiny piece of paper and was about to announce your fate.

"And you—you're very convincing. I'm not sure whether to believe you but I'm certain you're not a bully. No offense sweetie, but you're just not built for it."

"Thank you. You too."

The puzzled woman smoothed her hands over her thighs as she stared at me. Eventually, she turned to Jackie. "Why don't you go shower? We'll have food when you're done. And, uh, bring a shirt for this one."

A very relieved Jackie leaped up, kissed her mom on the forehead, then scurried out of the room. But just before she left, she stopped and turned. "You know, he left out some things," she said.

"I know he did."

Jackie whispered, "He has superpowers."

"Oh my God! Now, Jackie!" the woman roared.

The kitchen was just as spacious as the living room. Their oversized fridge was loaded with food. And everything was clean. Well, everything except the microwave. There was a bucket sitting on top of it collecting water.

I looked at Jackie's mom. "How is that even possible?"

"What?"

"Do you have a leak in your roof? I mean, it's not raining."

"Oh, that... Yeah, my husband says he's going to fix it. There's a leaky pipe up there somewhere. And of course, he won't call a plumber."

"What do those guys know?"

This was no joke to Claire. She was very interested in the state of her kitchen. "There's probably mold up there, so try not to breathe."

I shrugged and started pulling leftovers from the fridge. Soon there was a pile of miscellaneous, and mostly Italian, food on the counter.

"Help yourself," Claire muttered.

I pulled out a container full of cold spaghetti and set it next to the others. "Yeah, and thanks again. I'm just making enough for everyone."

Alex yawned from the living room. "I don't need any. I had dinner at work. I'm just going to rest for a bit."

"What about you, are you hungry?" I asked.

"Are you offering me my own food?" Claire said.

I pointed to the array of Tupperware. "Let's see, we've got all kinds of good stuff here. Do you like meatloaf? I can make meatloaf."

The woman took a seat on a wooden stool. Her thin top was a very low cut that showed off her cleavage. I dove back into the fridge.

"Don't you think you have enough?" she asked.

I could feel her eyes on me as I rummaged around. "You know, you two really do like alike."

When I popped my head up, I caught her gawking. She looked down at her shirt and the horrified woman quickly crossed her arms over her chest.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked.

I shut the door and nodded.

"Did you really save them tonight?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure."

"I guess that's why those two are so fond of you. Most people would jump at the opportunity to take credit for, well, whatever you allegedly did."

"Oh yeah, well the truth is I pretty much just stood there. Maybe I scared them?" I held up my arm and flexed my bicep.

Claire blushed and once again averted her eyes.

"Jackie does the same thing."

"What's that?"

"You both turn bright red when you get a compliment. I swear I can hardly tell you apart. But you might want to tell Jackie to start working out as much as you do, otherwise, she's not going to look as good as you do when she's what, 30?"

She started glowing.

I turned to the cupboards and started going through them one by one. "Plates," I said. "You must have plates around here somewhere."

"Actually... Let me."

Claire stood, slipped in front of me, and knelt down. She opened the bottom cabinet like it was a secret, almost like she was embarrassed about it. "Earthquakes," she explained. "Last time we had a mess. Don't look at me like that."

She sat back on her heels. Her butt was fuller than Jackie's, and they wore their pants the same way. The hard, rounded edges of her jeans looked like they were going to burst. Her breasts were bigger too. They were firm, almost hard. There was a regular black bra buried inside.

"It's earthquakes—quit staring at me like I'm crazy. You're making me nervous."

I gulped. I knew what was happening between my legs. The suddenness of it took me by surprise though. My hands shot to the front of my pants.

Claire scrunched her forehead again. Then, her jaw came apart.

I stepped back. "Sorry, I... I..."

"Justin!" she shrieked. "Put that away! That is incredibly inappropriate!"

"But I thought, you know..."

"What!" she demanded. "What did you think?"

She rose to her feet. The flustered woman with jet-black hair fumed from her nose right in front of my face. She snarled.

"Are you dating my daughter?"

"What? No—I swear!"

Claire jabbed a finger into my bare chest. "Do you like my daughter?"

"We're just friends, I just met her tonight!"

"Jake—I mean Jackie has a very hard life ahead of her, do you understand?"

My butt brushed against the tile countertop.

"She doesn't need pretty boys breaking her heart."

I nodded my head in agreement.

Claire pressed her finger into the soft tissue between my ribs. "What are your intentions?"

"My, uh, intentions?"

She brought her face in closer. "Do you want to fuck her?"

"I... I—no! I just met her tonight! I mean, we barely know each other."

"If she ever comes home crying one day because of something you did, I'll kill you myself. Understand?"

I nodded emphatically. My head nearly detached from my neck.

"Good," she said, then slid her finger down my abdomen. The terrifying woman breathed into my mouth, whispering, "Now put your big cock away before you hurt somebody."

I choked. Saliva stung my lungs.

She pulled away just as Jackie came tumbling into the kitchen in nothing but a long t-shirt. Her hair was wrapped in a towel, but that was it. Claire glared at me as her daughter skipped across the floor.

"So what are we making? Ooh! Spaghetti!" Jackie said.

I spun around to shield my embarrassment with my body. But Jackie stepped in beside me anyway and playfully bumped my hip. I could hear her mother growling.

"What's wrong? You're so quiet? Oh! Plates! They're down here, see?"

She dropped to her knees and began haphazardly clanging the delicate china together while I held my breath. I did my best to appear uninterested. I pretended to organize the feast laid out before me. I scanned the kitchen for cutlery. I did everything I could to avoid accidentally peeking at Jackie's soft, white thighs and the back of her shirt that had wedged itself between her cheeks.

"Enjoy your dinner," Claire said. "I'll be back to check on you."

I put my hand over my heart and exhaled. The terrifying ordeal was over. Jackie sprang to her feet and handed me a stack of 10 plates.

"Here," she said. "Oh, forks are in that drawer. Hey, Justin, why won't you look at me?"

I turned my head and was greeted by her flimsy, pink t-shirt that utterly failed to accommodate the two, fleshy mounds on her chest. Her skin was wet and had bled through the thin fabric. It stuck to her. I looked down lower and it was even worse. I could almost make out the dark color of her panties.

"What's wrong? Wait, did my mom say something to you?"

"Hey, why don't you go set the table? That sounds fun, right?"

Jackie huffed and collected the plates. It just made it worse though. She leaned over the table and her wet shirt slipped up her thighs. I was right about her panties, they were blue.

"Don't you have any pants?" I muttered quietly to myself.

"Oh, you don't like my shirt?" she asked, then walked back toward me as she stretched out the front so I could see the image more clearly. There were two men in suits shaking hands. If one of them wasn't on fire, they might have been twins.

I squinted. "What the hell is that supposed to be anyway?"

Jackie shrugged. "I don't know but my mom will tell you all about it. She's probably told me about their music 20 times already."

"So, it's a band?"

"Yeah, I have some of their songs if you want to go listen to them upstairs."

"Oh God, no! I just remembered I hate music."

Jackie laughed. She stepped in behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist. It felt like I was going to choke on the refreshing fragrance of her shampoo. She was so close that even my hair felt cleaner. Her nose pressed against my neck.

"I just wanted to say thank you," she said quietly.

"Oh, uh, no problem at all. Any time?"

Her breath tickled my skin when she laughed. "No, seriously! That was insane! No one's going to believe it. And those guys will never bother me again." Her voice got even lower. "And I owe it all to you."

I gulped. "Don't mention it—seriously, don't tell anyone. They'll think you're crazy."

"Well, I think what you did was hot."

Something pointy pressed into my butt. I lurched forward.

She continued in her soft voice, "Is there anything I can do to thank you?"

I coughed. It felt like there was a hair in my throat that wouldn't come out.

Jackie bucked her hips. The soft pads of her fingers burrowed into my tummy.

"Jackie..." I whispered. "You don't have to do anything, it's fine, really."

"You don't like me?"

"No, I do! A lot! Way more than you know. It's just, well, I mean..."

"Then, what is it?"

"It's... It's nothing, I swear."

She narrowed her eyes. "It was my Mom, wasn't it? What did she say to you? Justin!"

I just shook my head.

A long silence followed. She was still back there though. I could feel her breath. I could feel the large shape under her shirt pressing into me.

"Justin?" she asked quietly.

"Hmm?"

"Is everything OK—are we OK?"

When I didn't say anything, the subtle rocking of her hips stopped.

"Oh God, you're freaked out, aren't you? Ugh! Why do I keep doing this? I can't control myself. I'm so sorry, Justin," she groaned.

I took a breath. It was a long, deep, refreshing breath. Then, without waiting for authorization, my hand reached back behind me and took a handful of her shirt. I squeezed the firm flesh of her cheek and pulled her into me.

It was crazy, reckless, and would likely get me killed but there was no way to reason against the strong urge to feel her—to feel it again. I found myself backing up into her.

My head swam. It felt like I was going to collapse forward and suffocate in the cellophane wrap covering a trough of lasagna.

Jackie's cautious and surprisingly strong fingers came back to life. They dug into my skin. I leaned forward.

"Does that feel OK?" she asked.

I grunted.

"Are you sure?"

My elbows landed on the counter. Plastic containers went flying backward but fortunately, nothing spilled.

She leaned in on top of me. "You're just so gorgeous—seriously, you're the most beautiful boy at our school. And after what you did... Well, I honestly don't know what else I can do for you—I don't have a lot of talents other than, you know..."

"But... But your mom—and Alex. He's... He's in the other room."

"But we're all alone."

"It's just, you know, I haven't exactly done this before—I mean, not like this. No one's ever, you know—not to me anyway. It's usually the other way."

"Would you rather do me? Is that it?"

Before I could answer, a strong thrust of her hips drove my shoulders forward. My head even started to bob along with her waist each time she pumped.

"Justin? Say something..."

"No—yeah, it's fine."

"Fine? Fine? Ugh! So it doesn't feel good?"

"Jackie! It's hard to think straight when you're—of course, it feels good! I want to try stuff with you, I do, it's just... It's just..."

She kissed the corner of my ear. "Oh yeah? What what kind of stuff?"

A tall container of Parmesan cheese tumbled over and spilled on the counter. "We'd, you know, do things. OK?"

"What things?"

"Jesus! I'd suck your dick, OK?"

The girl on top of me moaned into my ear. The long, hard shape behind me felt like it was trying to break right through my pants. My teeth started to chatter.

"And then what?" she asked.

"I don't know..."

"Come on!"

I exhaled as calmly as I could but in that same breath blurted out, "I'd, I dunno, let you do whatever you wanted to me—just like you're doing now."

Harder. Faster. Hot, warm flesh landed on my lower back.

"Jesus Christ! Is that your... There's no way that would fit in my mouth, I'd probably choke."

She gasped.

My nose pressed into the flimsy plastic lining. The scent of cold tomato sauce and cheese gave me goosebumps.

"Would you let me do it in your mouth?" she asked.

I groaned into our dinner. My lips pulled into a tight, straight line.

"Can I cum in your mouth?" she asked again. "Would you, like, swallow it?"

Another thrust. My shoulders dipped lower. Then, there was something new. Cool air ran down and tickled my thighs. My pants were slipping lower.

Jackie's fingers had the button open and were tugging them down. Her heavy cock settled between my cheeks. I could feel the weight of it sliding up and down as she ground into me. Some silverware clanged to the floor.

"Do you want me to stop?" she asked.

I arched my back and dug my fingernails into the counter.

"Justin?"

"No," I whispered. "You can do more if you want."

"Do more like... You know..."

“I wouldn't mind if you, you know, tried it.”

The blunt end of her shaft nuzzled in between my cheeks. She groaned. "Like fuck you?"

Just then, the ceiling above us creaked.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Just someone upstairs. But Justin, did you mean it? Can I try it with you?"

"Upstairs?"

"It's a two-story house—God, this feels so good."

"So, your mom is up there?"

"Or my dad. But don't worry about them. You seriously have the nicest body. I love the way you feel."

All I could muster was a quiet squeak while her penis dipped lower. It was dangerously close to that sensitive area behind me but still, I said nothing. I actually projected my ass further toward her.

There was a quiet conversation upstairs followed by some laughter.

Jackie slowed and brushed the tip over my asshole. Everything suddenly felt very different. It's like I was floating. The sounds above sounded distant and my vision turned cloudy and gray. Even breathing didn't seem important. I just stood there, folded at the waist, waiting for her to enter me. My sweaty palms lay flat against the counter.

Then, something pinched me.

I bit down into the flimsy, plastic covering. My teeth went right through it.

The sharp tip of her cock broke inside. It went slowly, gently, very cautiously tunneling its way deeper. But there was no amount of gentle that would prevent it from painfully stretching me apart like it was trying to break me in two. And the fucking never-ending flesh just kept lumbering forward. Jackie's hands tightened around my waist.

“I can't believe I'm doing it... I'm fucking the prettiest boy at school,” she said softly.

I grimaced.

“Does it feel good? Is it too much?”

“Just—just stop talking!” I barked.

“It's just that I'm a virgin—this is my first time.”

“Me too!”

Then, she froze.

Her voice changed. It was suddenly riddled with panic like she'd lost the ability to control her volume. Over and over she told me how pretty I was and just as many times she apologized.

"Shh!" I reminded her.

"I can't help it, I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

But it was too late. Her body stilled and hot liquid poured inside me. I squirmed. The tip wriggled free. And Jackie pelted me at point-blank range between my cheeks.

"I'm cumming," she whispered.

A door closed upstairs. The wood groaned and complained as someone traversed a hallway.

"Justin, I'm so sorry, I can't help it. I'm... I'm... It's happening again!"

"Again?"

I could feel it spasm. I could feel it twitch and sting my skin, more and more cum until it filled that tender space and started flowing down to where it tickled my thighs. I could feel drops splashing onto my back. Even before she was done, she rubbed her slippery shaft into the mess, smearing it around, and forcing more of it to spill down onto the seat of my pants.

Feet descended the stairs.

I extricated myself from the lasagna. "Jackie! Put that away! She's coming, Jesus!"

The despondent girl looked at me like I was crazy. But she was the one with frazzled hair, her shirt pulled up high above her waist, and her big cock wagging in the air. Fresh cum was still rolling off her shaft onto my ass. But she did it though. She sprang back and adjusted her clothes.

A very stern woman entered just as I had my pants up around my waist. I was afraid to move though. I was afraid to do anything other than stare like an invalid at the tile backdrop. There were blue geese on every fifth tile.

"Mommy, are you hungry? We were just making some dinner," Jackie said.

Claire scowled. She looked at the clock on the microwave. "Be quick. Justin needs to get home."

Jackie pouted.

Her mother was not impressed. And she was certainly not intimidated by her teenage daughter clad in her adorable pink shirt. Claire tapped her foot impatiently.

"Ugh! Fine!" Jackie complained.

I stared forward, my eyes were fixed to the task of slopping handfuls of food onto plates. I ended up handing Jackie a four-pound helping of pasta.

She looked at it skeptically, shrugged, and reached for the microwave door.

Alex suddenly sprang up from the couch and shouted from the living room, "No! Jackie! Don't!"

Electricity arced from Jackie's fingertips and removed the microwave from existence. Everything went dark. The refrigerator stopped humming.

There were shrieks. Then, complete silence. A delightful fragrance of cheese, tomato, and burned metal seasoning filled the air. Claire lifted herself from the floor.

"Jackie! Are you OK?"

"What about me?" I asked.

"Yeah, Mom, I'm fine."

Claire put her arm around her shoulder. "Are you sure, honey, talk to me!"

"No, seriously. I'm fine. But, uh..." Jackie stopped and pointed.

"What did you do to my kitchen? My microwave!"

I stepped forward. "Let's see. There was a wet bucket right next to the outlet... Maybe static electricity did some, you know, science stuff?"

"Go to your room!" she yelled.

"I don't live here."