Alistaire’s Summer 2: Birthmark

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Welcome back to Alistaire’s summer of lust and embarrassment! But mostly lust. And discovery. And lust. New reader or old, always remember that I abhor a realistic story. I just aim for one that is plausibly ridiculous.

Anyway, if you are somehow stumbling onto an Alistaire story for the first time, welcome. But this is part two of part three, and I do not do much in the way of synopses, so you might want to go back and start from the beginning of the first series.

For the rest of you, please rate my work. I kind of get paid in comments for this work, so dropping me a word at the end of this and other chapters will fuel my commitment to getting this series done soonest and then get on with writing the fourth and final Alistaire cycle.

By the way, there is a stonking huge easter egg in this series. I wonder which of you will find it…

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THE ONE WITHOUT THE BIRTHMARK

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Carrie looked at her watch while I looked out the windows of the dark neighborhood clubhouse where we had just made a deniable mess of the couch. I could still see no sign of any neighbors peering our way through open curtains, nor any open doors with people trying to identify what those, um, incredible noises had been.

“Yes,” I said, pumping a fist gently. “I think no one noticed us in here.”

“Damn,” Carrie grumbled at about the same time. “We don’t quite have time for me to tear your clothes back off and get in another round.”

We both laughed.

Then we carefully slid out of the clubhouse and walked, arm in arm, down the street toward my house.

And almost instantly, Mrs. Kilpatrick backed out her front door, leading her rat that barks, Pippa, on its leash. I jumped about eight feet straight up, but composed myself before she even turned around.

Carrie, who was way cooler about the situation than I, just kept walking casually down the sidewalk, pressing herself gently against my arm.

Mrs. K, the gossip of Gallant St, peered out at the people walking in her neighborhood after dark. “Al? Is that you?” her sharp voice called out in the night.

“Hi, Mrs. K,” I said, idly waving as Carrie kept me moving.

“So you are back from your graduation already? Congratulations,” my neighbor asked politely while my insides somersaulted in thanks that that friggin pest of a dog had not needed to pee 30 minutes earlier. She often lets it do its business on the grass around the clubhouse.

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you,” I called, then turned to look down at Carrie, as if to resume a conversation.

I sensed Mrs. Kilpatrick wanted to ask more questions, but was held back by her bemusement at the utterly novel experience of seeing me with any girl, much less the vision on my arm. “Come on, Pippa,” I heard her mutter.

“Great,” I muttered quietly to Carrie. “Now the whole neighborhood will know by breakfast that Al was walking with a girl down the street…”

“Oh, she is that neighbor, huh?” Carrie asked, resolutely not looking back.

“Yup.”

“We have two in our neighborhood.”

“My heart breaks for you,” I said with utter sincerity. “But gossip is not the problem tonight. I left my keys in my bedroom upstairs, meaning that I will have to pass my parents in the living room where they will inevitably be watching some movie. How will I explain going upstairs and then going back out?”

“The truth?” Carrie asked easily. “Mary and Maddie live in the opposite direction, and you offered to give me a ride home.”

“The opposite direction?” I asked skeptically. “I will bet my parents know both your homes are right by the country club.”

Carrie looked at me in genuine momentary distress. “You really have been out of it, haven’t you? Mary and Maddie’s parents divorced Sophomore year.”

“Wait. But…”

“Their dad has remarried and he and they still live in their same old house, since he inherited it to begin with. But they are living with their mom over across town during the summer.”

“Whoa,” I said as we walked on. “Seems odd though. I mean, nothing wrong with it, but usually kids live with their mom if there is a breakup, don’t they?”

“Their mom bought a house across town to be closer to most of her work. If M and M lived with her full time, they would have had to transfer to Fosters High,” Carrie said.

We both shuddered. I had not even gone to P-High, but everyone I knew had and they had always known that Peachtree was going to be their school. Thus, it was sort of mine by proxy. The thought of having to go to FuckHeads was slightly horrifying, even to me. Not as horrifying as the idea of going to Choate, but still pretty much awful.

We turned at my house, which was admittedly a little larger than the others around it and Carrie gave it a good look. “Damn, Al. Now that I’m looking at it and not focused on you, that’s a nice house!”

“Mom and Dad do okay,” I shrugged. I walked up to the front door and slipped in.

Carrie followed me right in! I had assumed she’d hang on the front porno 64 porch, dammit.

Sure enough, my parents were sitting together on the couch in front of the TV, with a clear view of the front door. So much for my hope that they had gone to bed early. Worse, they weren’t quite making out or anything, but they were cuddling a lot closer than I was used to.

My appearance did not phase them at all, but when they spied Carrie coming behind me, they sprang apart like two guilty teenagers, only with way more casual aplomb. I had done some springing apart myself, and I fleetingly hoped I’d get that good at it at some point.

“Hey Mom, Dad,” I said, as if distracted. “I’m just going to grab the keys and give Carrie a ride the rest of the way home, then I’ll be back,” I said, and headed for the stairs fast. It was a pretty horrible calculation, leaving Carrie at my parents’ mercy while I retrieved the means of our escape, but the idea of taking her upstairs to my room right in front of my parents was an utter non-starter.

I sensed my mother uncoiling her short frame from the couch as I hit the stairs. “Hello, dear,” she said behind me. “Carrie is it? I know we briefly spoke earlier, but my son was apparently raised by wolves and hasn’t properly introduced you to us. I am Sophia, and this is Dennis.”

I could not help but slow when I rounded the turn of the stairs and got out of sight. Please, Mom, don’t go full… whatever you have been the last couple of days.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor,” Carrie replied, her voice cool as a cucumber.

“Weren’t there four of you earlier?” my father asked. Oddly, he sounded like he still had not gotten up from the couch. Not rising to meet a guest, especially a female was unheard of…

Fuck, did Dad have a hard-on from whatever he and Mom had been up to? I was going to be lucky just to remain sane long enough to make it to USC.

“Yes, sir,” Carrie told Dad. “But Mary and Maddie were running a little late and had to get home, so they dropped me near here with Al and he’s cool enough to give me a ride the rest of the way and save my UberCash.”

Wow. Carrie could cover almost as well as Jenn. I just hoped there were no rat-related holes in her story. I dashed on and grabbed the keys. When I came back down, they were discussing Vanderbilt calmly. I jingled the keys at Carrie, she smiled, and I waved swiftly. “I’ll be home in about fifteen minutes,” I said as I steered Carrie toward the garage.

“Take your time,” my father said idly, still on the fucking couch, legs crossed.

In the car, I swore softly. “I am so screwed when I get back.”

“Why? Your parents seem really cool,” Carrie replied.

“They are… mostly. But they have taken an unpleasantly blunt interest in my love life all of a sudden. I will be interrogated thoroughly about how I misplaced two gorgeous girls this evening, but I will mostly be grilled about the gorgeous one I still had with me.”

Carrie chuckled softly. I grinned at her. God, she truly was gorgeous.

“Pull over, Al,” she said, pointing at the parking lot of an out-of-business tire shop.

“Huh? Um, sure.” I needed to get back and forestall any speculation about my further activities, but I still find it very rewarding to do as I am told by pretty girls.

As I slid the shifter into Park, Carrie pulled me over for a kiss. I caressed her lips with mine, but asked, “What are you up to?”

“Just putting a last little memory of me in your mind for when Maddie and Mary get started shaking those bazoombas in your direction,” she laughed in what sounded like a good-naturedly competitive manner. I kissed her back, harder this time. Rivalry was something I had been afraid of earlier, but this didn’t feel that way. A little friendly competition now and then…? Well, I was quite profoundly happy with that!

“I still need to get back. I did say ’15 minutes’,” I said more or less coherently, despite my tongue being in her mouth. My hand crossed over and caressed an utterly just right breast, despite the time.

“Your dad said to take your time,” Carrie replied, equally adept at being understood with her tongue in my mouth.

“Just a figure of speech,” I fretted.

Carrie’s hand slid down to my lap and stroked my rapidly hardening boner through my pants. “I don’t think so. Listen,” she went on, breaking off our kiss but leaving her slowly flexing hand where it was. “He never once got off that couch. He just sat there with his legs crossed, leaning forward. A man just doesn’t do that with a lady visitor. I think your mom had him hard as a rock when we got there.”

“Carrie!” I yelped in anguish. She just giggled.

“Yeah,” she teased, squeezing my rock-hard cock, which had no shame as usual, and was unconcerned about Carrie talking about my dad’s dick. “If you got this from him, no wonder he didn’t dare stand up in front of me!”

“Carrie!”

“So I think you need to give them at least half an hour so your mom can take care Türkçe altyazılı porno of business.”

“Carrie!”

“Whatever shall we do?” she asked, sliding down my zipper.

“Carrie…”

She leaned over, drew me free, and kissed my tip softly. Then she looked up at me and said, “I don’t intend to take long for this. You still need to come in and meet my parents, to give you cover for why you took so long getting home.”

She could cover better than Jenn.

Then she covered my cock with her mouth and I forgot about Jenn.

Carrie was not kidding, she intended this to go quickly. I was discovering that she had another gear for giving head that she wanted to be expeditious. Her tongue was ravenous as she devoured the top of my cock, and her hand pumped me firmly and swiftly. Her other hand reached over to dig into my underwear and tickle my balls.

Despite all that we had done just a half hour ago, she was right. This was not going to take long. Her blonde hair bounced beautifully in my lap as she slid up and down on me. Her lips dragged wetly and firmly along my flesh and her tongue grew if possible even more hungry. My cock just throbbed from the sudden, overwhelming assault of pleasure.

There was no trace of subservience in this blowjob. It was, in fact, one of the most assertive I had ever experienced. Yet, I was dimly aware that it was all about me. She was enjoying it, but her entire purpose was focused on me and my eventual, no, my imminent orgasm. My feet shuffled around in the well, trying to avoid kicking the brake pedal or accelerator, and my gut roiled marvelously.

It had been quite a while since I was ready to pop this quickly, and possibly never this quickly when it was not my first of the day. I wanted to use all that I had learned to hold back and extend this overpowering experience, but that was not what she wanted. I’ll be honest, it was not what I wanted.

“Mission, unh, mission accomplished,” I grunted in warning. Carrie just squeezed my balls gently, and they gave up whatever they had managed to refill with by that point. I gasped happily and my whole body shuddered. Carrie jerked and squeezed, milking me of any dregs there were to be had, and I felt her savoring my offering in her mouth, working my cock around in there to spread my cum everywhere within. She was very careful, when she finally let me slide free of her lips, to ensure that nothing dripped out.

I stared at her, still flustered at the pace of the whole episode. “You are amazing,” I breathed. Then I slammed the steering wheel.

“What’s the matter, Al?”

I leered at her quite comprehensively, but frustratedly. “I never, never let a girl do that for me without returning the favor,” I growled. “And we just do not have the time!”

“Don’t worry,” she laughed softly. “I’m keeping my extra dose of Al Taylor oral on account. I intend to collect soon.”

Oh, hell yes you will.

It took more work to get my cock put back away and in order than it had taken Carrie to somehow get it out in the first place, but I soon had the car in gear and was once more heading to her house.

I walked her to the door, where we were met by her father.

Yeesh.

I had not had to deal with fathers. I suddenly, very unpleasantly realized that fathers were in fact a thing, and one which I was going to have to deal with, in much the same way one dealt with landmines, or perhaps uncaged water buffalo.

This time was fairly calm. He was polite and asked no hard questions of the sort I had instantly expected upon seeing him opening the door. The bastard even nicely and politely invited me to dinner the next week! Apparently (for now) the only person unhappy with me was his financial advisor since it had been decided that Kimball, Carrie’s little brother, was in fact going to boarding school like me, and everyone seemed to think this was my fault.

I was pretty sure I was in for more of an interrogation than a meal, but at least it was not going to be about Carrie and what sort of mischief we were up to together.

Escaping my first post-coital encounter with a girl’s father alive, I headed back home to face the music.

Maybe Mom and Dad will have gone to bed…

Oh no! Not that! Um.

Shit.

It was the worst of all worlds when I got home. They were still up, but no longer on the couch. Cocktails that had not been in evidence before were now in their hands. And Mom had a shit-eating grin on her face similar to the one Carrie had sported in the car right before we got to her house.

I briefly considered packing a kit bag and riding the rails like an old-timey hobo until USC started in the fall.

“So your mother and I have a new suspect, unlikely as it may be, in the mystery of who was your first,” my dad started in immediately. It was a measure of how cringe I was feeling about whatever new habits my parents had gotten into with their son away at school, that I almost welcomed fencing on sex izle this subject instead.

“Suspects, plural,” Mom added with a smile.

Almost welcomed.

“I am flattered,” I found myself saying easily. “But even if it were true, I’d be even less likely to admit it to you about any of them than I would be about anyone from school, since you’ll be seeing the three of them all summer.”

Home run! I had nailed it. Spiked their guns. For once in my life, I had had the perfect comeback. I am a genius!

“All of them?” my dad asked softly.

“All summer?” my mom added significantly.

I am not a genius.

*

The first date with Maddie went well. My date with Mary went well too.

Very well. In both cases.

I found to my surprise, and with no justification for that surprise, that Maddie might well have the most in common with me.

She liked baseball, at least well enough to know on her own where the Braves were in the standings. They were finally in first, but Petra’s Phillies were already closing, as the wench had predicted, and they still did not have Julio back yet.

Petra did not let me forget that either, especially after the Bravos coughed up a three-run homer in the eighth to the Phillies, letting the Phucking Phils salvage a split.

Maddie even liked board games! And real ones, not like Monopoly or Scrabble. I was already plotting how to bring her to a gaming afternoon with Chris and Tony without it becoming a shitshow.

She did not like D&D, alas. She thought it was for dorks, and thought that I was a huge dork for liking it so much. I had my face between her luscious thighs when she told me this, so I didn’t take it too personally. Much…

The weird thing about my dates with both twins was the way I kept checking to make sure they hadn’t switched on me again. I did a birthmark check every time whichever of them I was with went out of my sight to go to the bathroom, get a drink, go say hi to a buddy she saw, or just go clean some stray cum off her chest. Whatever. I was fast becoming an expert on the nearly identical throats of both girls.

Neither said a word about my nervous obsession, and to be honest, I wasn’t sure if I was wary, or actually hopeful. But Maddie almost entirely ignored my surreptitious looks at her throat. Then, clearly forewarned by Maddie so she could take advantage of my neuroses, Mary wordlessly pointed at her birthmark every time she returned to my sight the next night when she and I had a date.

I got the job my mom set up for me. Of course. Mom doesn’t recommend deals she isn’t sure will close. Knowing that whatever I saved over the summer would go straight toward defraying the 25K my parents were ponying up for a new, used car in SoCal, I quite machiavellianly set out to spend my meager earnings like a drunken sailor, while secretly squirreling away cash wherever I could, like one of her clients at a Swiss bank.

On a side note, it turns out that it is easy to spend like a drunken sailor when you are regularly spending time with three girls. It wasn’t like I was paying for everything, but…

Also, it turns out that school dates, or the prep school facsimiles thereof at least, were a lot cheaper than dating at home over summer break, with a car at my disposal.

If Bridget and I had wanted an evening to ourselves, my total out-of-pocket had been the cost of a shake or two and some mozzarella sticks at the Tuck. But even if we went completely Dutch Treat, something that I just would not ever fully allow, an evening out with Carrie at the movies was five times as much.

I was working a lot of hours at the free paper, delivering issues to the businesses who stocked them in their lobbies, taking phone calls, and even once in a while getting to write some actual copy. I needed the money. The Swiss Bank plan never made a lot of headway in the face of the Sweet Babes plan.

“Taylor!” growled my boss, the son of my mother’s dentist. Wallace Harding might have been the editor and publisher of a rinky-dink ad-supported tabloid whose content consisted of mostly local entertainment news and syndicated humor, but Wally had a Perry White complex. “I saw that our rack in the Barnes & Noble over at Eastwood was empty this morning. Grab two bundles of over-run and go refill it. Check the other racks in the area while you are at it. I’ll just have to answer my own phone while you are out,” he added with a grumble.

Wally was never happier than when we ran out of issues before the next one came out, but he had a gruff but admirable image to maintain, so he never let anyone see him smile.

Eastwood Mall was not that far away, and I had our rack in the B&N lobby restocked quickly. But that still left me with a bundle and a half to put on racks somewhere because Wally would not appreciate a single issue returning to the office with me.

Unfortunately, most of the other locations where we distributed in the area were still mostly full and I was running out of options other than heading all the way up to the north side.

A sudden grin spread over my face, as I remembered that we had a big rack at the county rec center–the rec center where Maddie lifeguarded. The sight of Maddie in her red swimsuit would go far to perk up my day, and the rack there usually emptied well.

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