CHAPTER 3
Matt was convinced he was going to set a record when it came to the number of times a man could masturbate in one day. The day after his sexcapade, maybe a once in a life experience with his stepsister, he woke up jacking off and went to bed doing the same. Obviously, he did a few other things that day, like make an appearance with his New Stepmom, Sharon, in the kitchen downstairs for lunch.
“Hey stranger, I feel like it’s been forever since I last saw you,” she said. “You must’ve snuck on upstairs once you got home from hanging out with your sister.”
“St- umm… yes, yeah. I was just tired and…” Matt caught himself before he corrected stepmom number two that Stephanie was his stepsister. A certain detail that had become more important to him in the last twenty-four hours. “H-how’s things going here? Must be nice having my dad home for a weekend for a change?”
“Oh, umm yeah, you know, yeah, it’s different,” Sharon said with a polite but awkward smile. Her hands fumbled in front of her massive breasts. “Nice, absolutely, but you know, different routines…” Matt nodded and waited for her to move from the front of the refrigerator where he needed to get his soda from. “I’m getting your father another beer- do you want one?”
It took him back. Sharon was a very wholesome woman.
She went to church every Sunday, was a stickler for the rules, and would rather run out in traffic than speak ill of anyone. The fact that she was offering Matt a beer was very out of character. He wondered if she misspoke and was really just
offering him a soda, but something in the hopeful look she gave him made Matt sure if he said yes, his new stepmom would give him one of his father’s cold beers from the fridge.
“No, thanks,” Matt smiled politely.
A disappointed look broke across her face and she nodded uncomfortably. “Okay, right. Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking,” Sharon waved her hand frantically, then turned to the fridge and removed a beer. “I think we’re watching a movie later if you want to come downstairs.”
“Okay, maybe,” Matt lied. He watched Sharon leave with her husband’s drink. In her twenties she was a gorgeous woman. The kind of woman that not even my dad with his high six-figure salary could woo. Matt knew this from pictures he’d seen. He imagined her having quite the attitude back then. Being only five foot four and still looking down at all her would be suitors trying to impress her to get to her perfectly plump breasts or a chance to squeeze her rounded ass cheeks. How could you be that attractive and not be a bitch?
But one of the few men that managed past her defenses turned out to be the wrong one. Sharon became pregnant in her early twenties and the man quickly disappeared. Raising a little girl on her own definitely humbled her, fixing any attitude she might’ve had. She was the nicest person Matt had ever known. But between having a child and twenty-five years of time passing made it show on her. Not that she was now unattractive- far from it. Her eyes were a sea of blues that you could still get lost in. While she had become curvier in her later years, most of the weight had gone to her breasts and butt only to engorge them.
Matt believed his father liked her because she contrasted his last step wife, Amy. Sharon was not loud or opinionated. Sharon was quieter and submissive. Matt knew his father liked her because he could control her. Matt truly did feel sorry for Sharon, but there wasn’t much he could do.
Matt took his soda from the fridge and at the grating sound of his father’s raised voice from the next room, Matt retreated to his bedroom upstairs.
That Sunday was one of the rare days his father was home for work and the less time he could spend looking at his gaunt face that seemed permanently fixed in a judgmental scowl, the better. It was for the best. Him being home kept Sharon distracted, freeing up the house- or at least the second floor to himself. He spent most of the night and the following days recollecting his time with Stephanie. He tried to remember how her breasts felt, just like he wondered how they tasted.
Why didn’t I try to suck on them? Why didn’t I try to taste her sweet pussy?
Matt had never eaten a girl out. To feel the heat of her pussy on his face. To taste her juices. To push his tongue inside. He couldn’t imagine how it would feel. It was probably for the best. He would be bad at it, he was sure. No one is great at their first times of anything.
Though in his time spent with Stephanie, he believed he became better at fingering a woman. He couldn’t keep himself from thinking of her moans. Remembering the feel of her moist, trembling thighs. But Matt feared that was to be the last time he would hear or feel anything like that coming from his stepsister.
Matt allowed a few days to pass before reaching out to Stephanie. But by the time he did, he worried he had waited too long, and it was awkward now. A thing not to be said between them. A thing that had killed whatever friendship was there in the first place. Most weeks before this, they’d text off and on. Mostly they’d share memes to each other and trade insults. Send videos of cats being jerks and drunks doing something stupid.
But it was Wednesday night, and they had not shared a single snap. Not one meme. Matt stared at his phone in the darkness of his room. His laptop screen showing Stephanie dressed as a naughty nurse for last year’s Halloween being the only light in his room. ‘Great fuck last week. Looking forward to Saturday.’
He typed the text message to his stepsister laughed and shook his head then deleted it. “Ahhh come on, Matt, think think think…” he tapped his forehead with his cellphone. Finally, after a minute, he scrolled through insta and found the first almost-funny cat video he could find and sent it to Stephanie.
Matt set his phone down on his desk. Behind his laptop were two packets of papers. One had Indiana University written across the front and the other folder had a gator head drawn on it and read University of Florida. He hated these two folders.
It felt like they decided the rest of his life. He could choose one and be on the other side of the country by the fall. Far from family and friends. Alone and far from his father and fucked up families. Of course, his father hated that he even applied to a school in Florida and was even more full of rage when he was accepted. Dad, of course, told him to go to a nearby university. somewhere he could be kept close and under his thumb.
Up until this week, Matt had planned on going to Florida for college. It scared him being away from so many familiarities, but he’d enjoy the final, ‘fuck you,’ doing it would give his dad. But now he had to rethink it all. Stephanie went to Indiana University. It was this fantasy that plagued his mind.
Maybe they would be placed in the same dorm. Have a room across the hall from another. Have study breaks…
Matt spent most of the weeks flipping between his memory of last Saturday and fantasizing about next weekend. By the time Saturday arrived, he sat around all day waiting for 6:30pm to come. She had texted the day before that she’d be at her mom’s place around then, which means her mom would probably be out of the house, he assumed. Her mother usually was out earlier in the day, but she must’ve had some different plans.
When he arrived at her house, he tried to wait in his car so when he walked in it would be like 6:45 pm or later. He didn’t want to appear too eager or desperate. But alas, Matt only made it to 6:31pm, and he decided that was good enough. Matt messed with the keys in his pocket and looked for the Modders’ house key. At the front door, he went to put it in the deadbolt slot when the door opened suddenly, nearly knocking him back.
“Oh- hey, I thought you had already left,” Matt stumbled over himself.
Amy Modders, his first stepmother, eyed him suspiciously, “nope, running a little late today. Why? You two have some kind of party planned?”
“What? No- no, I- we don’t have anything planned,” Matt felt his face swelter as he bit his tongue, literally, to shut himself up. But his attempt was too little too late. The words he had already fumbled with had alerted his first stepmom to him.
“Right…” she said, eyeing what Matt was wearing. His black polo shirt formed to his chest, showing the slight divots and flexes of his pectoral muscles. His jeans were dark blue and fashionable. Everything he wore was too fashionable for him. A t-shirt and ratty jeans were what he usually wore everywhere. Matt looked down at himself as well. He looked like, well, he looked like he was going on a date.
“You guys… going out… somewhere?” Amy asked with a raised eyebrow.
“No, no, I um… I have a date later tonight,” Matt thought on his feet. “I’m leaving from here to go right there. To the date.”
Amy nodded, pursing her lips. Just her pursing her lips was enough for Matt to realize what she was wearing. Amy was, in every sense of the word, a cougar. At forty years old, with dark black hair and a lush, firm body, she was the neighbor every young boy wished lived next door.
Faded tattoos were sporadically appearing when she wore more revealing clothes that illuminated her adventurous past. But today she wasn’t leaving in her usual, going shopping outfits. Matching jeans and blouse with gold rings and her bracelet that she always wore with the several pendants that dangled from it.
Today she wore a sleek black dress with a long V neck that allowed Matt to just see the side of her breast as it hid under the thinnest of fabric.
Matt realized he had been spotted staring at her dress too long and had to make a strategic move. “Wow, look at you, too!” Matt whistled. “You must have some kind of date too, huh?”
It was his stepmom’s turn to be on the defensive. She giggled, brushing some of her hair behind her shoulder, and moved for the driveway. I’ve got her in the retreat mode. “Yeah, guilty,” she laughed. “Just meeting a guy from work for drinks. But I’m running late, so, good luck on your date!” Amy said as she clicked her heels down the stairs and went into the garage to her car. Matt went inside the house, closing the door and locking it behind him. Matt released a brief but long sigh.
Stephanie had been watching TV in the living room when Matt came inside. Well, less watching TV than, of course, looking at her phone as she sat slumped in the corner of the couch. It had been over twenty minutes now since he sat down with a nearby lazy boy and they were watching some reality TV show about women competing for a rich guy. Ironic. It’s the story of my life- or rather my dad’s life. I’m just the one who has to suffer through it.