FAMILY ISSUES CH. 02 By allthatisfuta

"I've been hit!"

"He didn't hit you," Helen growled.

"He fucking shot me. He got me in the face!

"Come here. Lemme see your face, Lance," Helen said. She signaled Ryan to watch over the stairwell.

"Got me in the face!" The young marine was shaking. Fear and fury combined. He didn't step towards Helen. "Got me in the face!"

"Shut up!" Helen barked.

"Got me in the face!"

"Lemme see your face, Lance." Helen grabbed the young marine in a vise grip. The human touch, more than anything, did the trick and Lance stopped shouting and shaking. Helen removed his helmet, and checked for cuts or bruises. She found nothing, and put it back on. "You're fine."

"I saw a hajji! No, No! The room's full of booby-traps," Lance spoke erratically as his eyes darted across the roof and the stairs leading down. However, he didn't sound so convinced now, and he was breathing a little slower.

"You're fine."

She leaned against the nearby external wall and breathed deeply. The air in Husaybah, Iraq, was choked with sand and the acrid smell of burning tires. A dark cloud billowed above the eastern road. Another suicide car. The one that hit yesterday was driven by someone from Lebanon. She knew that because it was filmed from the other side and posted online an hour after the attack. The guy came all the way to Iraq and ended his life just to take a few marines with him. Fucking insane, Helen thought, coming all the way to this shithole just to die. The sun was mercifully hiding behind a cloud, but still, the heat was a beast that was trying to devour her.

"What do you wanna do, Boss?" Ryan said.

"I wanna get off this fucking roof."

"What's the status, Lieutenant?" The soft voice had a relaxing effect on her. She turned around and met Andy's blue eyes smiling at her behind the tactical goggles. The other squad members were following him, scaling down from the adjacent villa's roof to their spot.

"The motherfuckers got a fortified bunker in there, sir," she said.

"How many hostiles?"

"Two or three, maximum four. We got one. They've gone quiet though. I think they might have slipped off, but Charlie team didn't see anyone getting out of the house."

"We're going in?"

"The problem is we got way too many rooms to our right and left," she signalled with her hands in the directions that concerned her.

"No, the real problem is that the flyboys are gonna start dropping 500 lb. bombs in fifteen mikes. We have to clear this house and get to the river."

Helen nodded. She'd go to the gates of hell if Andy asked her to, and not because he was her commanding officer. "If you wanna go, I'll go first," she said. "Ryan, back me up."

"Oorah, that's my Valkyrie!" Andy gave her the thumbs up.

She slowly descended the stairs, one step at a time, her back pressed against the wall, down from the roof and into the villa. Eyes front, flashlight and rifle following her gaze. Helen's breathing was shallow, but in her ears, it sounded like a tornado blowing. One floor down she reached the spot where they hit the insurgents ten minutes ago. She saw a shadow and shot once, then made a sweeping sign to signal forward movement.

The first thing she noticed was the RPG resting against the wall. A deadly toy that had been forgotten by an irresponsible kid. Next, she saw the young man's body. He lay in the room's corner, a human being a few minutes ago, and now a crumpled ball of hands and feet. Death was dirty. It was her bullet that got him, she was sure. Ryan didn't shoot, and Lance blasted the door. Helen was the only one who kept her cool. It wasn't the first time she shot an enemy, but it was the first time that she saw the results up close. She felt bile coming up. The dead youth couldn't have been older than fifteen.

"Clear left," Ryan shouted to her left.

"Clear right," she shouted. "I think they ran off through that window, sir. See that hedge? They could have crawled under it."

Andy cleared dust from his forehead, nodded, and picked the comm. "Hitman Two-Two, this is Hitman Two-Three. Redcon one in five mikes."

"Solid copy. Redcon one in five mikes."

"Hitman Two Two, I've got two to four hostiles possibly coming your way on the north road."

"Keeping our eyes open, Hitman Two-Three."

Something crashed inside the room to the left. The distinct sound of metal on metal, almost aching in its suddenness, cleaved the already tense atmosphere.

The marines around her froze. Helen gave Ryan a harsh stare because it was his sector. Andy signaled Ryan to back him, inching slowly towards the source of the sound. He kicked the door open to a room devoid of furniture other than a mattress and white curtains on a big window facing the river. The curtains swayed gently and reminded Helen of her grandmother's home.

"Clear," Andy wiped sweat again. "Let's get the fuck out of here." He stepped into the room and onto the mattress. His leg hit something that shouldn't have been there, a black string. Helen had time for a warning scream that would echo in her memory forever. She heard a whirring sound as the IED activated, unleashing an inferno that swallowed them.

As the charge exploded Helen woke up screaming from the nightmare. She always slept with a small light on since she came back from Iraq, but for some reason, the room was completely dark. She searched with a shaky hand on the shelf near the bed. The back of her hand hit the glass of water that stood there, and it crashed to the floor.

"Shit, shit, fuck!"

Her tank top and the sheets were sweat-drenched, even though she set the air conditioning last night to 66. Her hand found her eyepatch, and she grasped it. She was a drowning man, and it was the rope. Shaking she put it on and searched her way to the window. Helen stepped on broken glass, and it etched deep inside her heel. She couldn't care less. She felt her way to the window and with shaking hand pressed the button that activated the shutters. Bright morning beams washed the room, and a white dove on her balcony blinked at her, surprised.

"Yeah?" She said to the bird. "Let's see you handle PTSD; then we'll talk."

--------------

Kevin heard the scream, stopped folding Diana's shirt and turned to her. His big purple eyes were open wide.

Diana shrugged.

"Why does she do that?" he said.

"I dunno. Bad dream I guess."

"Yeah, but yesterday too?" Kevin said. "I have bad dreams sometimes. I don't wake up screaming." He tried to listen to the sounds from the hallway, but all he heard was the quiet hum of the air conditioner. "What's wrong with her?"

"Dunno. Been like that since Iraq."

"Iraq? What did she do in Iraq?"

Diana stretched and gave herself a loving hug, "She served in the Marine Corps."

"Helen was a marine?"

"Leave her alone, Baby Butt, she doesn't like it when people stick their nose into her private life."

"Can you stop with the Baby Butt, Diana?"

"You don't like it?"

"Take a wild guess," he made a funny face at her. "How much do you think I hate it on a scale of one to go fuck yourself?"

"That's too bad, because I like Baby Butt, Baby Butt."

"It makes you a pedo because you stick your thing in my butt every day."

Diana laughed.

"Anyway, it's weird," he folded her shirt, scanned his work critically, flipped it and folded it again.

"What's weird? Baby Butt, or Helen?"

"That you two live in the same house and you don't know why she wakes up screaming every other day or so. You're more strangers than sisters. I've never seen you two exchange more than a sentence."

"We're very different people, Helen and I." Diana licked her mouth while she stared at Kevin's behind. His boxers stretched and clung to his toned cheeks as he stood on his tiptoes and tried to place the shirt on the upper shelf. She felt her cock stir. "I'm the kind of girl who's fun-to-be-with. I've got a bubbly personality, a great sense of humor, a light-up-the-room smile, I'm beautiful, sexy, I'm the life of the party, and she's...well...she's Helen."

"That's not very nice."

"I thought you hated her, Baby Butt."

"I don't have many reasons to like her." He shrugged and folded another shirt. "But I don't hate her. Well, not anymore. I think that she's going through something difficult. I feel sorry for her."

"Why?"

"Empathy, Diana? It's when one human being sees another human suffering, and he feels he can relate because he too had been through shitty times."

"I don't get it."

"I know."

"What's that supposed to mean? Are you being a condescending prick right now?"

"Look, all done!" Kevin changed the subject and swept his hand, palm up, across the floor, like a magician bragging to the audience after a particularly fantastic trick.

Diana surveyed her empty floor. The room looked strange without the piles of clothes.

"Now let's see what we've learned. When you take out a shirt, and you don't feel like putting it on because it doesn't go with the jeans, should you, A, drop it on the floor, or B, fold it neatly and put it back to where it came from?"

"Hmmm... Call Kevin?"

"It's not a trick question."

"Can I get a fifty-fifty lifeline? Call a Friend?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

"Hey! News flash, Baby Butt, there's more behind that door!" She pointed at an oak red door at the back of her room.

"The walk-in wardrobe?"

"It's not a walk-in wardrobe, dummy. It was supposed to be a study."

Kevin opened the door to a room full of cardboard boxes and more piles of clothes, "What's inside these boxes?"

"Clothes. Shoes... Other stuff. I still haven't unpacked everything."

"Diana, you moved in a month and a half ago."

"What's the rush?"

Kevin gave a deep sigh. "Okay then."

"Okay nothing, come here!" She hooked her fingers inside the waistband of her sexy red underwear and wiggled them down her hips. The snake that was lurking there pushed against the fabric.

"How about we change position just this once?" he said. "You know, add some spice as they say."

"You wanna ride me reverse cowboy?"

"I wanna be on top for once. You have a vagina under your bad boys, I've seen it."

Diana smirked. "You wanna cook a baby futa in the oven?"

Kevin went to the part of the closet that was his and pulled up a condom. He waved it triumphantly.

"My vajayjay is for procreation only." Diana pulled Big Bird out. "This is my sex equipment."

"Okay, so how about your tight little butthole?"

"I'm not some stick-it-anywhere slut." Diana made a face.

"Neither am I and still you stick me in there, daily and nightly and ever so rightly."

"Kevin, I'm getting kinda bored with your nonsense. Come here! "

Kevin tossed the condom back in the closet. He thought he might as well throw it in the trashcan considering he wouldn't be using it anytime soon. Well, at least he tried. "Should I get the lube?"

"No need. Deep-throating lesson."

"I don't see the point."

"Because it goes deep in your throat, ha ha!"

"Ha ha," Kevin poked his tongue at her. "Because we both know I can't do it."

"Sure you can! Practice makes perfect. Now don't make that face, show some enthusiasm!"

Kevin tried to smile as he walked to the bed. It's not that he didn't like oral with Diana. It was hard for him at first to admit, especially to himself, but it felt super sexy. The fact that he could control and so easily extract gasps and moans of pleasure from an absolute hottie was addictive. He just didn't understand why she kept insisting that he learn how to deep-throat. So far, the experience had been consistently painful, and on one occasion, caused him to puke on the both of them.

He began by licking across the length of her shaft. Wetting was the key. Diana's massive cock jumped at the silk touch of his tongue. A crystalline drop of pre-cum materialized on the tip, and he licked it off like an excited kitten lapping warm milk.

"Mmmmm, that feels good! You have such a sweet little mouth. I'm so lucky."

"Thanks."

"No talking during oral class! Be attentive to your teacher!"

"Yes, mam."

She slapped his cheek playfully. "Don't just lick it, suck it. That's right. Good boy!" Her cock now was rock hard between his lips, thick and full. "Use your tongue on the tip when you're pulling."

He began, with each draw back on her cock, to swirl his tongue around the sensitive tip of her cock, causing her to shiver in delight

"Eyes up, never break eye contact. I wanna see those purple beauties looking at me. Yep, just like that. Adorable. Good boy." She patted his head.

"Now the funny thing about sex, is that half of it is happening right here," she tapped her forehead. "So if you want to make a girl like me happy, you also gotta say the right things. Tell me how beautiful I am."

"You said no talking."

She slapped his cheek again; this time she wasn't so gentle.

"Ouch! Um, I like your red panties, they match the bloodshot in your eyes."

"Asshole! Make me feel special. Complement my beautiful eyes."

"There's something beautiful in your eyes. Oh wait, it's me."

"Want me to kick you, Kevin?"

"Just, trying to lighten the mood."

"You know what, just blow me. No more talking. Don't rush," Diana said when he started bobbing fast on her cock. "Slowly. Enjoy it. Ooh, Good boy..." she cooed, looking down at him. "Slower." Her hand gently pushed down on his blond spikes, and he knew he wouldn't be allowed to raise his head before she spilled her hot salty juice in his mouth.

He closed his lips around the thick shaft, careful not to touch it with his teeth. He dragged his soft lips up and down. When he was up, his tongue played with the delicate spongy head, when he bottomed, his tongue licked the underside of her cock.

"Mmmm, you're good at this baby..." she murmured, her cock now rock-hard between his lips, thick and full.

The massive head slid back and forth along his tongue, filling his taste buds with Diana's meaty flavour. Kevin paid particular attention to the foreskin peeled back around the edge of Diana's big cockhead. He had learned that teasing that sensitive area with his tongue made her go crazy. A gentle bite on the foreskin with his teeth would even launch her over the edge and make her forget about deepthroating.

Not today.

"Stop!" She panted. She stared lovingly into his eyes and the ring his mouth formed around her pulsing cock. The image alone almost sent her over the edge. "Wait." She took her iPhone from her pillow and snapped a picture before he could object. He tried to escape the camera's gaze, but the hand pushing down on the back of his head prevented him from pulling away. "Something private, for the sad moments when I'm working away from my beautiful Baby Butt boyfriend."

She placed her other hand on the back of his head. "Ready?"

"Hmm, hmm!" he shouted, muffled, as he frantically tried to pry the strong hands that kept his head locked to Diana's cock.

"I'll take that as a yes." She pulled his delicate head forward until she felt her cock bumping against the back of his throat. She then kept pulling. "No, you're doing it all wrong. Like I showed you the last time. You need to swallow."

Kevin swallowed, but nothing budged.

"Swallow baby. Think that you have a huge pill in your mouth and the doctor told you to swallow, or you'll die. Swallow, swallow, swallow!"

Kevin's throat constricted and he began to gag. However, he kept trying to swallow her cock just to make her happy. When porn stars did it in porn movies, it looked as simple as kissing. Why couldn't he do it? He had no problem with his oxygen supply. Last week he'd broken a personal free diving record and held his breath for four minutes and forty-five seconds. This was nothing. If only his throat would cooperate.

"Swallow, Baby Butt! Ooh! Swalalala! Shimmy shimmy yay, shimmy yay, shimmy yah...Bad girls gon' swalalala!" Her hand went to his throat. She tickled his Adam apple, coaxing the muscles to contract, to open, and let her in. "Go, baby, go, baby, go, baby," she sang. "We're almost there!"

Indeed, he felt the unimaginable happening. Even though he was battling a massive gag reflex, he felt his throat muscles relaxing.

"Here it comes, it's going in!" Diana was ecstatic. Her cock throbbed, and he felt the first burst of her hot seed hitting the back of his throat and flooding his mouth.

"Argh!" she cried, and pushed his head brutally down to the base of her cock, "Ah, ah, argh!" with each squirt she pulled away before slamming back into Kevin's face. Her cock was a battering ram slamming at the back of his throat. "Fuuuuuck!" At last, completely spent, Diana released Kevin from her grip and fell to the bed behind her.

"Sorry love, totally my bad." Diana breathed hard between bursts of laughter. "We almost made it this time, if only I could have waited a minute longer. It's not your fault. Well, actually it is because you're so goddam sexy!" She jumped on his back like a lioness pouncing on a gazelle in the African Savannah. Diana sunk her teeth into his bare shoulder until she drew blood.

"Ow!" he screamed.

"Sorry, babe," she kissed Kevin's neck and nuzzled him. "Can't help it."

"I have a lecture in an hour."

"Just a few more minutes with my baby." Her warmth and her tiny tits felt nice as they caressed his naked back, but her spear was nestled between his ass cheeks, and he knew what would happen in a minute.

"Don't you dare get hard again, Diana!"

She sunk her teeth into his other shoulder.

--------------

The house was quiet. Helen waited, her ear glued to her bedroom door, trying to guess if anyone was on the other side. She opened the door slowly and peeked into an empty hallway.

'I'm like a fucking thief in my own house', she thought.

Kevin was a fait accompli. She gave him a week. Two weeks tops. That was usually long enough for Diana to offhandedly declare that the latest love in her life wasn't worth the effort. Diana was all about the chase. When it ended so did her interest. But Kevin was about to enter his fourth week in Helen and Diana Brion's little kingdom. Even worse, Diana walked, talked and breathed Kevin. There seemed to be nothing else on her mind these days.

This caused several unforeseen issues.

Helen stared amazed at the tent in her pajama pants. "Oh, for fuck sake!"

Diana didn't exaggerate when she said that Kevin excreted some sort of pheromone from his beautiful body that hit the wrong (or the right) futanari nerves. Even on days when she awoke from a nightmare, she still had a morning wood that in case she fell could impregnate someone in China.

She jumped back on her bed to begin yet another masturbation session, furious, trying very hard not to think about Kevin. Which is akin to not thinking about a blue camel. At last, she gave a frustrated roar as she imagined his beautiful lips wrapped around her cock. She could only last eight seconds once she succumbed to that image.

One big issue resolved, she snuck into the hallway.

Since that first fatal night and their embattled interrogation, Kevin treated her as if she was a shadow. He never talked to her, he didn't look at her or even acknowledge her existence. It made encounters with him painful to the extent that she did everything to avoid them. She went out early, worked late, and as a rule, kept to her study and her room. She was becoming a ghost in her own apartment.

Not everything was bleak, of course. There were some perks to the new situation which almost made the whole thing bearable.

Helen tiptoed to the kitchen, and almost shouted with glee when she saw no one there. She ran to her super modern refrigerator and checked it. "Yes!" she whispered "Yes, yes, yes." Kevin made asparagus pasta and roasted salmon with crispy potatoes last night.

"Leftovers!" She made a fist pump.

Before Kevin came to live with them, their refrigerator was a black hole. Neither Helen nor Diana knew or cared to cook. But Kevin, as it turned out, could spin a tasty dinner in minutes, with whatever ingredients he had under his hands. His amazing home cooking was a million times more delicious than ordering Chinese food or some half cold pizza.

Helen stuffed a plate full of goodies in the microwave, nervously checking the hallway. She eyeballed the cookie jar which Kevin filled last Sunday with the best chocolate chip cookies she had ever had the joy of sampling. Helen fell in love with them, and the cookie jar had been emptying at an alarming rate ever since. She wondered whether they'd notice if she took another, then said 'fuck It' and grabbed five.

She placed the tip of one cookie on her luscious lips, took a tiny bite, breathed in the smell, and closed her eyes. "Mmmm, fuck!"

--------------

Kevin came early from work. After spending the morning in Professor Lazarov's Data Warehousing lectures, he had two groups for refresher dive. Both were tourists from Japan, and proved to be polite and attentive. Consequently, he finished instructing them in record time. He got back to the apartment by three o'clock, coded two programs for his Real-Time Lab that were due by next week, cooked dinner, and cleaned the house.

He knew he should spend the time before Diana got home studying for the Advanced-CPU-Architecture exam but the red oak door in Diana's room kept distracting him. His attempt to turn their room into less of a rebel teenager's cavern and more of a place where adults live was in jeopardy. He knew Diana would just pull clothes out of the cardboard boxes and let things fall where they may. Studying versus cleaning; priorities versus his fixation.

"Damn you OCD, my old nemesis," he smiled and waved a fist at his image in the mirror. "Foiled my plans again."

The first cardboard box contained shoes. 'We need a data warehouse just to keep track of Diana's shoes,' he thought, shaking his head. The second box was half empty. It held a pocketbook and a wooden red box.

The book title was 'Master and Margarita', and the cover displayed a silhouette of a cat. The cover was partially scorched as if someone saved it from a fire. 'Weird,' he thought and opened the first pages. It had a handwritten dedication on the front page: 'To the bravest girl in the 2nd battalion.' The wooden red box held neatly folded papers that carried the Army eagle seal. They were letters written in a neat feminine handwriting. Kevin opened the first letter.

Dear Andy,

I'm writing you a letter that you'll never read because I'll never have the courage to send it. But sometimes thoughts are just too big to keep in one's skull. They bang against your forehead, and you must share them with someone, or they'll hurt you. I wish I dared to share my thoughts with you, but since that is out of the question, this sheet of paper will have to do.

Because something big happened today for the first time. I saw courage today. No, not in combat, I've seen plenty of that around here, though I don't mean for a moment to belittle it. After all, a man risking his life for country and brothers-in-arms cannot be called anything but a hero. It's hardly trivial. But I saw today a different kind of courage, one that is no less heroic.

I'm not sure if you know what it's like for a futa girl like me growing up. You've seen a glimpse of that today when Sergeant Robert called me, well, you know what. I'm not even going to repeat those awful words. I've heard them, and worse, too many times.

People look at me and they see a tough bitch. They think that words like the ones Sargent Robert used just bounce off me. But they're wrong. Every time I'm called those horrible names, it robs a little piece of my humanity. It makes me less than a person, a freak. I pretend not to care. Sometimes I hit back. But I can't tell you how many nights I've cried. Only my pillow and my sweet mom shared those moments. You'd think that with so much experience I would develop a thick skin. But I have never managed that trick; I don't know why. I guess some things you just can't get used to.

The world is made of victims and villains, but mostly of indifference. Most people never treat me like Sergeant Robert did today, but they stand by and do nothing. Today I met the fourth kind; the hero. You stepped forward for me. You didn't care what people might say about you or us behind your back. You knew the implications. But you saw injustice, and you stepped forward. I was too ashamed to thank you, but that was the first time that someone stood up for me. I think that even Sergeant Robert was shocked; his apology even sounded sincere. I can't begin to describe in words how much it meant to me. That moment of grace. I can't stop thinking about it since this morning. So I'm guessing I only wanted to say thank you, dear soul, for restoring my faith in humanity.

Sincerely yours,

Valkyrie.

--------------

Kevin came out of the bathroom smelling of cologne. His natural smell mixed with the perfume had a Pavlovian effect on Diana, and made her hot downstairs. The tall redheaded futa girl scanned him from head to toe. "That's what you're wearing, Baby Butt?"

"No, I've got my Superman suit underneath in case Lois Lane calls," Kevin said.

"I told you how much I like a flippant mouth."

"I told you how much I love being called Baby Butt."

"You're not wearing a T-shirt and Jeans to Comfort Zone 13, and certainly not these sneakers. We're not going out with you wearing that."

"Okay," Kevin shrugged. "So we'll stay home. I've got to study anyway."

"What? That's three weeks without clubbing for me! Do you have any idea just how insane it is?"

"Have fun. Don't drink too much."

"You're coming with me," Diana growled, "And you're wearing something else. I'm showing you off to my friends for the first time."

"This is my best outfit, Diana."

"Well it sucks." Diana stomped like a little girl who didn't get her candy. "We're going to do some shopping first."

"I don't have the budget for the kind of stores you have in mind."

"So fucking what?" She snarled.

--------------

"When we meet my friends, say nothing about our...you know, our arrangement."

"Diana, I'm as embarrassed about it as you are," Kevin said. "It's a- what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Relax."

"It was a fucking red light!" Kevin shouted.

"The road was clear," Diana swerved and drove the BMW over the traffic island to the opposite lane, forcing an oncoming black SUV to break hard.

"Jesus, I'm too young to die!"

"Don't be a wuss, Baby Butt. We're in a bit of a hurry. DJ Salomon is on tonight."

"Who?"

"You know, DJ Salomon? 'Music chose me, music is my time machine,' that DJ Salomon?"

"Oh, the 'music chose me,' guy. Of course."

"You don't know who I'm talking about?"

"Not a clue."

Diana sighed. "We'll need to work on that. The guy has a vibe like you wouldn't believe. He pumps you higher than molly."

"I've never taken ecstasy, so I wouldn't know."

"We'll need to work on that too."

"We wouldn't have been late if you hadn't insisted on that second store."

"Totally worth it." She scanned him from head to toe and bit her lower lip. The purple buttoned shirt she bought him was clean and minimal. It fit around Kevin's lithe body like a second skin and made his purple eyes shine. Diana had to kick herself mentally to prevent herself from pulling over and ravishing him. "Baby Butt, you're so beautiful my eyes hurt."

"Thanks, I think. You look terrific too. Very sexy."

"I can't wait to show you my kingdom."

"Comfort Zone 13 is your kingdom? I thought it was a dance club."

Diana beamed at him. "Wait till we get there. You'll see all the wannabees who have to wait in line while we'll be going straight in. The bouncers even call me 'Princess Di.'"

"They must have seen you drive. Slow down, or we'll end up the same way she did!"

Diana kept going on about 'her' club, and Kevin feigned interest while his mind wandered to the letters he had found in the back room. He knew he shouldn't have read them because they felt way too personal, but he was hooked. The mysterious Andy was present in every one of them. However, he was more interested in the writer, the girl with the strange name, Valkyrie. She was intelligent and a woman of the world; that much was obvious. But that wasn't the reason he was drawn to her letters. She had a way of expressing herself that kept him reading and a delicate inner world that she shared with the page which he found irresistible. It was less a letter to someone and more of a monologue. A map of another person's soul put on display. He felt like an intruder because he knew the writer never intended for anyone to see these letters. Andy certainly never got to see them.

The writer was obviously deeply infatuated with Andy, and her tragic inability to muster the courage to talk to him was heart-breaking. Kevin invented an imaginary story in his head, about how he was going to find Andy and confess Valkyrie's love to him. In the little story, Andy was in love with Valkyrie. It was a comedy of misunderstandings that Kevin was going to bring to a happy conclusion.

"Diana," he said, "I've found some letters in one of your unpacked boxes."

"Letters? Like emails?"

"No. Handwritten."

"People still make those?" Diana looked annoyed because he interrupted her in a middle of a story that basically described how awesome she was and how all her friends adored her awesomeness.

"The recipient is a guy named Andy. Do you know an Andy?"

"I know an Andrew."

"Nope."

"Helen has an accountant named Andy working for her." Diana felt her heartbeat rise, because they were nearing the club. "Maybe that's him?"

"I dunno," Kevin sniffed. "Why would you have letters written for Helen's accountant inside a box in your house?"

"Maybe Helen wrote them?" Diana said.

"Not a chance," Kevin smiled. "Not in a million years. I mean she's a futanari, that's obvious, but that's the only thing she has in common with your sister. Helen and the woman who wrote the letters, they're chalk and cheese. You couldn't find two more different people if you searched the entire planet."

--------------

Dear Andy,

I'll tell you a secret, but you'll have to promise not to tell anyone. I always smile when I say these words. They remind me of someone I lost, and though losing someone is usually sad, when I remember her I cannot help but smile.

See, I haven't always been like that, hiding my heart in the shadows. When I was young, I never thought that I was different. Well, of course, I knew we were, but we were just as different as everybody else. There were the Chinese immigrants on 23rd street; everyone called them chinks. The Pakistani Ghetto near Ogden Park; everyone called them ragheads. There were the Beaners and the Cabbage Eaters, the Yids and there were us, just another minority group. People have several nasty names for futas. They even wrote them on our little apartment's door a couple of times. But it was the norm. Everyone was prejudiced, but I never had to think about it.

I remember one summer by the river with my best friend, Scott Pierce. We were hunting for river crabs during the twilight of childhood and the dawning of puberty. I remember a lot of laughter, and a lot of messing around, and very little fishing. There are some perks when you grow up in places like West Englewood, and one of them is sex. It wasn't a secret or a big deal. Everybody knew what goes where or who does what to whom. I guess when you grow up with ten people in a two-room apartment you can't help but see some things and learn to ignore them.

I remember that day because Scott said he'd show me his if I showed him mine. We did, and we laughed about it. I remember sleeping in the tall grass, and I remember waking up, crawling to where Scott was daydreaming and whispering in his ear: "I'll tell you a secret, but you'll have to promise not to tell anyone."

"Sure," he said, and I whispered, "I think you are awesome, Scott Pierce, and I think I want to be your girlfriend."

I got my first kiss from a boy that day, and I remember not walking home but sort of flying on a cloud. I painted Scott Pierce and red hearts all over my math notebooks.

A week later, Robert King, the school bully, punched my little sister because, and I quote, "the freak looked at me funny." I punched his lights out and sent him straight to the ER. Some kids get to be heroes for pulling stunts like that. Me, I became a pariah, because of who I was.

I remember a group of kids, led by Robert's big brother standing around me during the break and shouting the next day. I learned a new word that day: 'cuntboy.' But the most hurtful thing I remember from that day was Scott Pierce standing in that circle of kids and shouting the loudest.

I lost the girl that day. The one who will tell you a secret, but you'll have to promise that you'll never tell anyone. I really miss her sometimes. I hope she's still out there and wasn't completely lost in the woods of prejudice and cruelty. Maybe she'll surprise me and come out of the shadows one day and will let you read my letters.

Sincerely yours,

Valkyrie.

--------------

Helen came back early from the office because she knew she would finally have the house to herself. That was another aspect of the Kevin Effect. Diana went clubbing at least twice a week and going out dancing Monday to Saturday wasn't unheard of. But her sister had opted, during the last three weeks, to spend every night at home with her new boyfriend.

Maybe she was finally growing up?

Too bad it took an asshole like Kevin to make it happen.

Helen checked the fridge and danced a tiny victory jig when she found the lasagne Kevin had made this afternoon. She dropped her butt on the sofa, kicked off her tall boots, placed her long legs on the living room's table and sighed.

Alone at last.

The sofa smelled of Kevin's cologne and Helen's eyes rounded as she stared at the big tent in her black pencil dress. "Fucking unbelievable." She slapped her raging hardon. "Et tu, brute? We don't like Kevin; do you understand me? We hate the little spoilt insensitive gold-digger!" It dawned on her that she sounded a lot like Gollum and his precious, so she stopped talking to her cock.

She dipped her fork in the lasagne and placed it in her mouth. "Oh, my God," Helen closed her eyes and breathed deep. Her taste buds had a tiny orgasm. "Damn, we love Kevin!" she told her cock. "We love Kevin the cook, we adore his perfect tight body, we can dip in his purple eyes and swim in them forever, but we hate his rotten personality."

She grabbed the remote and flipped through the channels, searching for something new to watch. However, she'd seen every TV series that was worth seeing, twice. A book then! She surfed on to Amazon and left a detailed five stars review for Missing Kissinger by Etgar Keret, signing in as Valkyrie. Her previous review had accumulated a lot of positive votes. Usually, that sort of approval would make her smile, but tonight her dark wind blew strong. The void in her stomach that was ever present since Iraq felt more menacing than ever before.

She needed something new in her life.

Maybe a cat?

No.

Restless, Helen tiptoed to Diana's room, and blinked, amazed when she saw the empty floor. Kevin was nothing less than a David Copperfield. She pulled the door of Diana's massive wall closet. Everything was neatly folded and stacked in neat rows. Even Diana's countless pairs of shoes.

"Fucking unbelievable."

Kevin took a single shelf for himself. Her hand hovered, shaking over a stack of his shorts. She grabbed a pair and ran on her gazelle legs back to her room.

Helen jumped on her bed and wiggled herself out of her dress and undies, freeing the anaconda. She seized her cock almost violently and rubbed it against Kevin's shorts. One, two, three times was all it took for her to shoot her load into the fabric. She lay down for the longest time after that, her round chest going up and down with each intake of breathe, just staring at the ceiling. She picked Kevin's boxers from her bed between finger and thumb. They were drenched with her seed. The shorts were white, with paintings of cats riding tricycles. Childishly innocent.

She felt bile coming up and managed to get to the bathroom just in time before she puked the lasagne all over the sink.

"Oh my God; my life stinks," she said to no one as she hid the shorts in the wastepaper basket. She took a searing hot shower after that, hoping to wash off some of the dark feelings. On the fog of her shower's wall, she wrote, 'I'm pathetic!' and signed with a sad smiley underneath.

--------------

Diana clubbed like it was the last night on earth and Kevin had to admit that her enthusiasm was a shot of pure adrenaline. She was right about DJ Solomon's vibes too, they were infectious. You had to join the mad beat, and when you did, you took wing and flew high.

Despite his small stature, Kevin was an athlete from an early age. He felt comfortable inside his body in a way most people who have greater control of their muscles do. Dancing sat firmly inside his comfort zone. Even when he didn't know the moves, all it took was to observe others. Then he could join in and merge with the crowd. A beautiful drop in a sea of moving flesh, sweat, and sex.

Diana dancing was an erotic dream. She wore a tight, sleeveless black velvet dress with cleavage going all the way to her navel. In the back, the dress opened almost all the way to the crack in her peachy ass. Her red hair was wet with gel, and it glowed each time a strobe blinked. There was only one other place where she was similarly alive; the bed. She danced like nobody was watching, but Kevin was confident that everyone was. His girlfriend was, hands down, the most beautiful woman in here.

Diana had the same experience, intoxicated by the thrill of the dancefloor. The Comfort Zone 13 Club was a well-known futanari hangout. She was aware of every movement, every lecherous stare that was directed at Kevin. There were many, and she basked in them all. One of the stares belonged to an old flame of hers. In the blinking strobe light, she saw Nadine. A tall Middle Eastern girl, exotically stunning, emptied glass after glass at the bar. The beautiful futa never left her smoky eyes from the dancing form of Diana's new boyfriend, swallowing his every movement alongside her cocktails. The Arab girl's beautiful face twisted with a snarl when she noticed Diana observing her. The redheaded futa smiled back at her, thinking that winning an Olympic Medal couldn't feel as good as this moment.

She caught Kevin's face in a loving grip and pulled him up for a French kiss. When it was over, it took her teeth some time to let go of his lip. She turned to Nadine and gave her a winning smile again.

"I'm going to the boys' room," Kevin shouted over the music.

"Meet me back at the booth over there, that's where the gang sits."

He turned to go, but she grabbed him and hugged him close, grinding her cock into his ass. "Be careful." She said to his ear and nibbled it. "This place is stacked with aphrodisiacs, molly, testosterone, horny futas, and alcohol."

"I'm a big boy. "

She bit his ear hard.

There was a line to the men's room which was something he wasn't used to. A slim fellow with a soft smile and a hint of femininity stood in line before him. He looked no older than eighteen.

The guy turned to Kevin and smiled. Not the best set of teeth. "You're hot."

"Sorry?"

"I said you're hot."

"Yeah, I thought you said that," Kevin fidgeted.

"You don't have to look like I've just stepped on your pet hamster. It's just a compliment."

"If you were a girl, dude," Kevin said. "You're a dude, and I'm a dude."

"Captain obvious on deck?"

"It's just that dudes don't tell other dudes that they're hot," Kevin blinked. "Unless they're gay."

"I'm gay," the slim guy said.

"Oh fuck." Kevin had a moment of teeth grinding. "Did I just come out as a homophobe?"

"Just a ..." The little guy brought his index and thumb together.

"Fuck, sorry about that. And come to think about it, my girlfriend is a futa, so that makes me gay too, or at least bisexual."

"Have you ever been attracted to men?"

"Not really," Kevin shrugged. "I like curves."

"So you're not bi, you're a Fub."

"Dude, I know Krav Maga. No name calling."

"A Futa Boy."

"Nice. If people back home knew that I'm a Fub, they would Fub my ass to Kingdom Come!"

"Oh, that kind of place. Now I get the homophobia. I'm Colin," He offered his hand, and Kevin shook it warmly.

"I'm Kevin."

"Diana's new pet?"

"What the fuck, dude?"

"You're not?"

"I'm her new boyfriend."

"I see," Colin had a smirk from ear to ear, and Kevin thought he should give the Krav Maga shtick another spin.

"I'm no one's pet."

"Sure."

With that awkward experience over, he stood above the urinal and released a strong jet. To his surprise, a tall girl entered the little boys' room. He thought she was stoned or confused and would figure out where she was in a minute, but she walked to the urinal next to him and lifted her dress as if it was the most natural thing in the world. She had caramel skin and exotic Middle Eastern features. Her cock reminded him of a donkey he saw once. As she released a fountain, she kept looking at him and his little spear, all the time wearing a condescending smile. His balls shrunk and his jet slowed to a trickle.

These girls, whether on purpose or by indifference were emasculating.

Was he really a pet?

He and Diana spent every night the way she dictated. In bed, they only did what made her happy. She never went down on him or let him take control. The only time he could bust a nut was during prostate massaging courtesy of Big Bird. Diana even had the annoying habit of patting his head and encouraging with calls of 'Good Boy.'

"Fuck, I am a pet", he thought. "All I'm missing is a collar because I'm Diana's little bitch."

"Be a dear," the Middle Eastern girl said in a sultry voice and nodded towards her cock. "Can you hold it for me for a second? I wanna light a cig."

Kevin ran, not bothering to zip his pants. Her laughter followed him all the way to the door.

--------------

"So, what do you think?" Diana couldn't help the triumphant smile from ear to ear.

Katherine, a slightly plump black girl with a blonde afro, nodded her head. "Bitch, you've outdone yourself! I'm so envious of you right now that I'm seriously considering killing you. Where the hell did you find him?"

Diana laughed. She wasn't going to answer anyway. Why ruin her victory by revealing that Kevin was forced into their relationship?

"Does he have a brother?"

Diana laughed again, this time masking embarrassment. She suddenly realized that she'd been living with Kevin for the last three weeks and knew practically nothing about him. She didn't know whether he had any siblings, where he came from, or even what he was studying.

"Yeah, he's a looker," from her other side Camille, a voluptuous brunette patted her own boyfriend's head. "I learned long time ago to steer clear of boys who look that good."

Diana gave Camille's boyfriend a short scan. "Explains a lot." She said, and everyone around the table laughed.

"Fuck off," Camille said.

"Just for the record, Ben," Diana leaned and kissed the boyfriend's lips. "I think you're gorgeous. But she was a bitch, and I had to put her down, so I did it through you."

The tall nerdish guy smiled at her. "You're a princess, Diana."

"I know. Why is it so hard for you once, just once, Camille, to be happy for me and to admit that I totally nailed it? Have you ever seen anything so gorgeous in your entire life?"

"He's not my cup of tea."

"You'd sell your left nut for a sip from my purple eyed cup!" Diana snorted a line of white powder from the table in front of her and washed it down with a shot of vodka. "If Kevin asked you to go for a ride, you'd be all over him like a fly on honey."

"Well of course."

"Thank you," Diana's triumphant smile returned. "Was that so hard?"

"I'm just saying that he's not my cup of tea for the long run. Guys who look as good as Kevin are shit in the sack. They think you should be grateful or something and they just lay there frigid. Trust me, been there, bought the fucking T-Shirt. Give me an ugly duckling any day of the week."

"Thanks," Ben said, and everyone around the table laughed except Diana.

"Care for a bet?" The redheaded futa said.

"What kind of a bet?"

"Ben against Kevin, see who can make you and me bust a nut faster."

"Fuck you, we've already done it three times today," Camille patted Ben's buns. The tall boy gave her a warm smile. "Of course, I'll lose."

"We'll switch mouths," Diana said.

"What?"

"Ben will do me, and Kevin will do you. The first one who can't hold it loses."

"Are you serious?"

"Are you chickening out, Camille?"

"Fuck no, it's a win-win for me. What are we betting for?"

"If I win, you'll let me in the Wang offices' back room, the one where your company keeps all the stuff from the fashion shows. And I get a free pick of five items."

"Fuck, Diana, last time I did something like that they almost caught me. I can lose my job!"

"If you win you'll get a night with Kevin."

"Done!" Camille said without thinking, making everyone around the table laugh. Ben just smiled, but his smile was forced. "Where is your new toy anyway?"

Kevin chose that moment to jump on the couch that Diana was sitting on. "Yellow everyone," he beamed. "I'm Kevin, the new toy. You I already know. Sarah, right?" He shook Sarah's hand across the table. "You got your second diving star a month ago in our school? You, I don't know," he shook Ben's hand, "You I don't even want to know." He said to Camille and winked to show her it was all in good humor. "What's the score?"

"Isn't he super cute?" Diana pulled him in for a deep, long kiss. "Why are you so flushed?"

"I just had a narrow escape. There's a giant penis after me," Kevin said.

"What?"

"Seriously, in the bathroom. Huge! I wanted to take a picture, but my smartphone's lens wasn't big enough."

"What?"

"That dick was so big it had its own dick, and even that dick was bigger than my dick! She was holding it with both hands!"

"Who?"

"Dunno her name. Exotic looking girl. Middle Eastern, very pretty."

"Nadine, AKA Mrs. Horse," Sarah laughed. "Got to be."

"Yeah." Diana didn't smile. "Pretty, you say?"

"Give the kid a break," Camille offered Kevin a shot of vodka.

"Thanks," he downed the shot in one go, pulled out his smartphone and pretended to dial. "Is this the police? I would like to report underage alcohol consumption served by, sorry didn't catch her name. She's got a pretty smile, and she just called me a toy."

"You're not 21 yet?" Camille laughed.

"In two weeks."

"You've started snatching them from the crib, Di."

"You think Camille got a pretty smile?" Diana squinted her eyes.

"Police, while you're here arresting Camille, please take my jealous girlfriend too. Apparently, I cannot look at other girls anymore. Thank you."

Diana pulled him in for another kiss. There was something in her mouth, a pill, and her tongue shoveled it into his mouth. He tried to pull away, but a hand at the back of his neck prevented him from doing so. He allowed her tongue to wrestle his and waited patiently for her air to run out. She was ten times stronger, but she couldn't compete against him when it came to lung capacity.

She pulled back, flustered, and Kevin spat the pill into his palm.

"Aw, don't be a baby! It's a love pill. It'll make our lovemaking much more intense."

"I know what ecstasy is, Diana."

"So?"

"First, I know it doesn't mix well with Alcohol. And second, I dunno. I haven't decided yet on these sorts of things."

"So, decide already."

"Don't push, girlfriend. I'll send you a memo once I figure out if I want to."

"Awuu, woof, woof!" Sarah catcalled. "Junior has a personality and some balls. I like him."

"So, Kevin," Camille said. "Diana claims you can suck cock better than Monika Lewinsky."

Kevin choked on his shot and sprayed the table. He was glad about the club's darkness because his cheeks were on fire. Camille slapped his back a couple of times.

"I don't like your friends anymore, Diana. We need to find you new ones," he said.

"Awe, don't be like that," Camille said. "We have a bet to settle, Diana and me. She thinks you can blow me dry long before Ben does her. So, we've made a bet."

"Seriously, Diana, where did you find these guys? Socially Awkward and Inappropriate dot com?" He smiled at his girlfriend who didn't smile back. "What? Don't take it in a bad way, Camille, but you got to work on your humor."

"She's not kidding," Diana said.

"Haha, super funny. It's..." He noticed that every eye around the table was on him. The friendly vibe he felt earlier changed into something else. Sarah looked at him and wetted her upper lip. A black girl with a blonde afro he wasn't introduced to, who had her arm around Sarah, gave him a look that made him feel like a juicy steak on a plate.

Camille laid back, opened her thighs, and unclasped her belt. Ben moved over to Diana's seat and placed his hand on her crotch. His girlfriend, instead of slapping the cheeky bastard, leaned back on the couch to allow him easier access.

"You're not kidding. You've really made a bet about...? Wait, wait, stop," he said.

"What, sugar? You know, I can't believe I'm saying this, but up close you really are the hottest thing I've ever met." Camille smiled at him and opened a button on her jeans.

"I'll tell you what, I have a better idea of a bet." Kevin stood up. "Diana, you can blow Camille, and she can blow you, and I'm betting anyone who's not cool with that can just blow me." He flipped everyone the bird.

"Aww, come on, Kevin. Be a sport," Camille smiled.

"Hey, he's young and green," Diana forced a smile, "And was raised in Hillbilly Shitsville. So, you all just need to cut him some slack."

Ben smiled at Kevin. "I was just like you, once."

"Sane?" Kevin said.

"That's enough funny shit coming out of your mouth for one day," Diana rose. "You'll have to excuse us for a few minutes. I've got to have a little talk with my boyfriend."

She grabbed her boyfriend by the hand, and Kevin felt like a five-year-old being dragged away for punishment. He didn't mind because at least he was getting away from these people. Diana hauled him downstairs through the back door to a secluded studio that had a sign saying 'management' but looked more like a storage room.

"Are you done embarrassing me in front of my friends?" She said.

"Are you insane?" He saw in her eyes something that he'd never seen there before, and it made him take several steps back. "And I wasn't raised in Hillbilly Shitsville. Where I grew up, we don't call black people niggers, and we don't call Jews kikes. And if anyone doesn't ever show up to church on Sunday, nobody makes a fuss."

"How modern..."

"And we don't do orgies in public, either."

"You go up right now, and you apologize to everyone for being a dick. Then you blow that futa so hard that her balls are going to come out of her slit."

"Are you in..." He saw her raise a fist and stopped in mid-word. "Why are you doing this?"

"What's the fucking big deal? There's not a single person around that table who hasn't sucked cock."

"I mean why are you ruining everything?"

"Ruining what?"

"You were so sweet a few moments ago. When we danced, I felt like I was really your boyfriend and not some cock-sucking accessory pet."

"That's how I make you feel?"

"I feel sick right now, and I want to go home, Diana."

"Okay," she said.

"Okay?"

"Yeah, let's go, Kevin."

"Okay."

"Remember you said you wanted to go to sleep over in a friend's house this weekend? You said you had to study for some big test next week? Remember I said yes, that you could go? Remember I said that I'd be devastated but this is your future and your future is important to me?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Diana!"

"You're staying home this weekend, and we're going out every night." She growled.

"I can't afford to flunk any courses!"

"Too bad. Maybe you'll pass. You're so smart after all."

"How is it even possible?"

"What?"

"You said you love me. How come you want me to," Kevin swallowed, "to have sex with another person?"

"It's just a blowjob. It means nothing."

"So if it means nothing, then why do it?"

"It's important." She took his hands. "Don't you get it? I hate that condescending bitch! She works as a personal assistant for one of the hot shots in the Vera Wang offices. She always rubs it in my face."

"So she's a secretary for some guy who thinks it matters if the belt color is sunset peach or just fucking orange. What's there to rub?"

Diana gave him a murderous stare and Kevin remembered she worked behind the counter at a clothes store.

"Diana, I can't. This is too humiliating."

She kissed him deeply. "You can, and you'll do it for me."

--------------

Sometimes the hardest thing can be as simple as clicking a 'send' button. Helen stared at the desktop's screen for a very long time. Her hand hovered over the mouse, but she didn't click. She went back to the kitchen, drank a glass of cold water and sat down in front of her desktop again.

The site's name was unimaginative. 'Match.' However, it had good reviews, and it promised it could find a lid for every pot. She read her profile description for the hundredth time. She only wiped it entirely and rewrote it four times.

On the first attempt, she sounded too needy. She didn't want people to think she's desperate. On the second she talked about her injury. Why jinx it? She took several photos of herself then decided that the eyepatch and the scar were deal breakers. She took a profile picture from her non-damaged side. The result reminded her of the beauty she lost. She uploaded it, but it felt like cheating. So, she deleted every photo. She went for the middle ground and uploaded a picture, in which her wild golden hair covered her left side and concealed most of the scar and the eyepatch.

On the third attempt, she focused too much on her career and her phenomenal success as a businesswoman. Some men were intimidated by strong women, and anyway, she ached for a soulmate with whom she could share her softer side. She wiped out that profile too.

Helen surfed over the prospective profiles. She refined the search to people who included her gender among their 'looking for' options. There weren't too many of them, but enough to make the search exciting.

"I only need one, anyway."

One profile especially caught her eye.

His name was Dennis, and he was thirty years old, a year older than she was. She liked the way he took the time to work on his profile instead of writing some generic flesh-market description. She also loved his blonde locks and his slim body. They reminded her too much of Kevin which she told herself was a turn-off. Her self didn't buy into it. It was his resemblance to Kevin that drew her in the first place.

"I bet you're nothing like Kevin," she said to the photo. "You're sensitive and delicate. You'll never call me 'ugly.' You'll see the real me, and I will know the real you. The rest won't matter. You'll look at my scars, and you'll see perfect skin."

"But what if you're a dick and you break my broken heart?"

She lowered her head to her hands and sighed. Her eyes caught the wastepaper basket and the shorts that she hid there. Helen had built her walls so high over the years that she never considered the possibility of a breach. However, Kevin presence in her house did the unthinkable. Maybe she was envious of Diana and the weird thing she had with Kevin. Maybe it was just her body waking up after a long winter sleep in the spring radiance of a beautiful man-boy's presence. She didn't know. Kevin popped the bubble she had so carefully constructed around herself, and it made going on as before impossible.

Masturbating over a pair of someone's shorts; that was a new low for her.

Every journey starts with a single step or just a click of a button.

She verified her profile and sat down to write Dennis a message. She only needed seven drafts to hit the balance between fun, seductive, not too intelligent, not too dumb, not too needy, not too cold, not too enthusiastic, and not too indifferent.

She kissed Dennis' image on the screen twice and clicked the 'send' button. Nothing happened, and she pressed refresh twice, to see if there was a response. Laughing at her silliness she jumped and whirled like a ballerina on one leg. Giddy with her new-found courage.

She took Kevin's shorts from the wastepaper basket before washing them. She then waited for it to dry in the dryer, passing her time by clicking refresh on the matching site. There was already a new message in her inbox. A creep had sent her a dick pic, and a shot of his butt. He added an enticing note. "Do you want me?"

"Sure."

She blocked the creep, went back to the dryer and took Kevin's shorts back to Diana's room. She folded them neatly, placed them at the bottom of the pile, and swore she'd never do anything so degrading again.

When she turned to go, something familiar winked at her from the corner of her eye. At the edge of Diana's double bed, was Kevin's tiny worktable. His ancient laptop sat there alongside his Computer Science textbooks and notebooks. Among them, open, its darkest secrets obscenely exposed, was the box and the letters from the back room.

--------------

Kevin knelt on the floor between Camille's legs. Looking up, the brunette gave him a warm smile. She was soft angles all over, in contrast to his beautiful girlfriend. Her mouth was too big, but he liked her smile, which is to say he would if she hadn't told him he had to pleasure her in front of a crowd. He was sure that any minute now the entire club was going to come over for the free show.

To his right, Ben was already deep into head-bobbing. He slurped and made obscene noises as his thin lips travelled the length of Diana's cock. His enthusiasm wasn't faked. He wasn't doing it for the sake of the bet; he was enjoying himself. He licked Diana's balls and vacuumed one into his mouth. Kevin's girlfriend moaned. If he was going to have any chance of winning this contest and saving his CPU-Architecture exam, then he had to start.

"Eye contact", he thought. Diana said to keep eye contact. Okay, stop thinking and do it already. This is just a game. A dream. There is no one here.

Camille's cock was at his eye level. Carefully, he began kissing her balls. The brunette groaned loudly and squeezed on the arm of the sofa. Kevin's lips pressed into her scrotum. Her big, smooth balls moved against his silky lips. He looked up and smiled at her. Camille was surprised at first but then laughed.

Slowly, he kissed up the length of the shaft, inching his soft, full lips just a tiny bit every time. Camille trembled at the tingling sensation Kevin gave her. Eventually, his lips climbed up the uncut head. A drop of crystal seed formed there, and Kevin lapped at it. He pulled back, and a delicate string of pearly drops connected from his chin to her bulging cock.

"Fuck me!" Sarah said. "Fuck me if I've ever seen anything that's half as hot."

Kevin was slow, soft wind compared to the tornado that was Ben beside him. The effect he had on Camille, though, proved that sometimes a light breeze could blow stronger.

"Shit Diana, you said you popped your boyfriend's oral cherry just three weeks ago," Camille laughed. "I really thought he had no chance. Ohhhhhh," she moaned, "not so sure now. How are we doing over there, Ben?"

"Mwmiuuu," Ben said with a mouth full and everyone laughed.

"You'll have to go faster, baby."

Kevin looked at Camille, licked his lips and stuck out his tongue. Its firm wetness teased Camille's cock and she groaned. He then slid his tongue along the length of her cock, and caressed the vein at the base. Diana made him suck her like this a week ago. He made her pop just by licking the vein, without ever taking her into his mouth. His tongue pressed hard, and he massaged the wet skin. Camille's glistening skin folded and stretched under his tongue as she clawed into the arm of the sofa.

What did Diana say? That half the sex happens in the head?

"Wow!" Kevin said. "Your cock tastes amazing, Camille! I didn't know a cock could taste that good."

"You," she gulped, "you're... you're welcome to come anytime and taste it. Ben? Hurry or... or...!"

In one rapid movement, Kevin's head dove to the head. Camille's cock slipped between his lips into a warm, velvety mouth. He placed his hand on the base of her spear, took a deep breath, and free dived. In a second his lips touched his fingers holding her cock, and the big spongy head snuggled against the back of his throat.

I have an enormous pill the doctor gave me, and I need to swallow it, or I'll die.

He swallowed. Camille was a touch shorter than Diana, but she had the same impressive girth. Kevin closed his eyes.

Diana wasn't available to instruct him, so he sang the tune in his head. Swallow, swallow, swallow.

If free diving taught him anything, it showed him that his body can achieve anything. Relax and make the impossible possible.

Swallow, swallow, swallow.

He thought of the big blue deep. Of jellyfishes dancing to music only they could hear.

Swallow, swallow, swallow.

When you dive in the dark of night, and you move your hands in front of your eyes, the plankton around you starts blinking like little stars.

Swallow, swallow, swallow.

Before he even knew it, the spongy head was past the bend in his throat. He removed his hand from the cock and dived.

He let Camille's cock stay lodged deep in his throat while he expanded and contracted around the hot flesh. He stuck his tongue out slightly, driving the cock deeper into his throat and rubbing his tongue against her scrotum. He hummed as he did it, sending incredible vibrations along the length.

"Pull him up," someone said. "He'll choke himself."

Someone placed a hand on his shoulder, but Kevin slapped it away.

"The boy is a natural," someone said.

"But he needs to breathe."

"Maybe he has gills?"

He wanted more. Kevin swallowed. This time, however, Camille's cock was lodged deep in the contracting muscles. The moan that escaped her lips told him that he just discovered, by chance, a new technique. He swallowed again. Then again. Each time he did, Camilla's sighs trembled and moved under him.

"No. No! Wait!" She huffed.

Kevin smiled inside his head and swallowed twice.

"Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh, fuck! Ben... Ben... Stop, Kevin, stop. Stop, stop, stop!"

Maybe he was a toy and Diana had full control of him. But right now, he was the puppeteer. He could make her moan, he could make her squirm.

He could feel the cock lodged in his throat bloating like a puffer fish, so he swallowed again and again; pushing against the warm flesh of her love pole.

"Wait, no, wait." Camille panted like a woman giving birth.

Kevin pushed down further. His lips were almost touching the scrotum, his throat contracting, massaging Camille's cock in a pressure-sleeve, sending her an overload of sensation that she couldn't fight. Kevin pressed his tongue forward; it was squashed between his lips and her now close-to-boiling flesh. He caressed her sack with the tip and massaged it, coaxing the sperm, inviting it to flow.

Camille couldn't hold it anymore. She grabbed his head and screamed her orgasm as she squirted time and time again inside his gullet.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah!"

At last, when her spasms subsided to heavy breathing he pulled up slowly, almost lazily. Her cock plopped out of his mouth. He grabbed it, then gave it a pecking kiss on the tip.

Everyone stared at him in silence, including Ben who stopped slurping on Diana's cock. His girlfriend's cock wasn't even hard.

"Wow." Camille huffed then started laughing. "Hands down the best blowjob ever. I've never..." She stood on legs that weren't so steady and grabbed Kevin's hand. "I'll be going home now, taking this heavenly angel with me. How much do you want for him, Diana? A million? A billion? I don't care; I'll rob a bank, I'll rob a country! I'll get the money."

Diana's dark eyes were half closed, and she stared at him intensely. He expected her to be pleased, but instead saw storm clouds brewing.

--------------

"Are you mad at me?" Kevin walked a step behind Diana. He recognized the signs of an incoming storm and hoped he would somehow be able to avoid it instead of having to ride it. "Diana?"

Her jaw was clenched, and she didn't answer. Her high heels stamped on the asphalt a little too stiffly.

"Diana, I did what you asked me to. I've humiliated myself in front of ten strangers. We won. What did I do wrong now?"

"Shuddup!"

"You gotta talk to me. This passive-aggressive shit ain't working for me. Not to mention it scares the shit out of me."

She turned and placed her finger under his nose. Her lip trembled. "You..." she choked.

He was tired, and he had two vodka shots inside his tiny body. He almost told Diana to go fuck herself then remembered she had if someone had hooked her to an IV of vodka and scotch, she would have had less alcohol in her blood right now.

"I'm driving," he said. "Give me the keys."

"You're not going home with her!" Diana roared at him out of the blue. Her scream was so sudden and loud that another couple in the parking lot froze and stared at them.

"What? Going home with who?"

"You think I'm stupid, huh?"

"Diana, you scare me. Stop it."

She pushed him until his back bumped against their car. "That bitch is so smug. You think I didn't notice?"

"You mean Camille? Noticed what?"

She poked his chest hard. "You and her. Thick as thieves after you gave her the best blowjob, hands down," she imitated Camille's high nasally voice. "You're not going home with her!"

"What are you talking about? She was just joking about buying me and taking me home. It was a joke. And you told me to give her the best blow ever, or you'll make sure I'd fail my exam!"

She poked his chest forcefully again. "You're mine! Ain't not uppity bitch taking you from me! Talking with her behind my back. You think I'm stupid?" her voice rose again.

"I think you take too much chemicals, Diana. That shit makes some people paranoid."

"You said you've never tasted a cock like hers." Her voice was low, but it implied volumes of violence.

"That was just psychology like you taught me. You said sex is all in the head."

Diana grabbed him and spun him around, slamming him against the car's hood.

"Wait, Diana I-"

She pulled his pants down brutally, and he felt her massive cock push against his hole.

"Wait Diana we need lube," he spat into his hand and frantically rubbed her iron hard cock. The head bumped against his starfish but didn't penetrate. Diana snarled her frustration.

"Diana, wait, we need lube, we need- argh!" he screamed. Diana ground her tiny tits into her boyfriend's sweating back and with a solid flex of her hips lanced her cock into his ass. She straightened her legs, forcing her cock inch by inch into his resisting entrance. When his cheeks rested against her hips, Diana stood up and lifted him off the floor. "Just like that," she whispered, drinking in the moment of penetration. "You're mine, Kevin. You're never going home with that bitch. Never, never, never." With each never she gave a brutal thrust, causing Kevin to whimper. She pulled his lithe body up and lifted him spreading his thighs. Her cock went out of his tiny hole with an obscene pop. She pulled him back down but was so drunk that she missed by a mile, and Kevin fell hard. He was sober enough to stop the fall with his hands.

She was on him, in a second, a raging lioness. They scuffled a little, but he soon realized that he'd fare better if she has her way. He rolled on his stomach and stood on all-fours, face down, ass in the air presenting her the prize. Diana took hold of her boy and plunged deep into his incredible ass. The warmth and tightness made her head swim with pleasure as she raised herself on one foot, forcing herself deeper into her helpless boyfriend. She dug her fingers into his waist and pulled him back to meet her powerful thrusts.

"You've ruined me, Kevin. You've ruined me. I was in Ben's wonderful mouth, and he is a top-notch cock sucker, and I couldn't even get it up."

She flexed and ground into his tiny cheeks. Her fingers almost puncturing his soft skin. "You," she pushed hard filling his ass with the first rope of seed. "Are." She pushed harder. "Mine!" She shouted and thrust viciously.

Spent, she pulled out and rested her back against the car's rear tire. Then, to Kevin's numbed surprise, she started sobbing. She cried like a wounded animal or like a toddler whose mother was taken away. Heart-breaking, loud, uncontrolled sobs. She only stopped once to puke.

"Jesus, what have I gotten myself into?" he thought.

--------------

A night of firsts, Kevin thought.

First time in a dance club. First time being called hot by a man. First time deepthroating. First time sucking cock in public. And now, first time holding a girl's hair as she puked her guts out.

"Couldn't have waited ten seconds, could you?" He shook his head as Diana painted the penthouse's stairwell with the contents of her stomach. "The bathroom is just a turn of a key away."

Diana rested against the wall beside their front door. The typically rosy hue of her skin was sickly pale, and she heaved with every few breaths. Kevin unlocked the door and sighed.

As he entered, he saw Helen's tall silhouette standing stiffly in the dark living room. Strange! She was staring at the blinking city lights. A human statue. He figured he could ask her to help him put the sad pile that was her sister into bed. He could do it on his own, but he thought it might be an opportunity to break the nasty waltz that he and Helen the ice queen danced. It was high time that he and Helen stopped treating each other as enemies. If he was going to share an apartment for a year, then it's better if they'll at least be civil.

"Hi," he started. "Diana. She's in the hallway-" he stopped.

Helen turned slowly. "Who gave you permission?" She took a deep breath. Her face was shadowed, but Kevin could see that her cheeks were wet with the tears streaming down her face. "Who gave you fucking permission?" Her voice was low, and every syllable was laced with hurt.

"Permission? I didn't do anything to your sister. She did it all to herself. Diana drank so much, I-"

"Who gave you permission to touch my stuff?" She said slowly.

"What?"

Helen moved from the shadows. In the cold light of the entrance fluorescence, he saw the look on her face and took two steps back. She was cold fury. A Valkyrie, a mythical northern beauty which chooses who lives forever and who dies.

"Who gave you permission to touch my private stuff?"

"Helen, you know what? I'm fucking tired, and I've had it up to here," he placed his open palm at his eye level, "with girls like you treating me like I'm a piece of shit."

"But you are a piece of shit, Kevin."

He flipped her two birds, one in each fist.

She snarled, and he backed another step. Then he composed himself and stood, left fist ready to punch, right hand protecting his face. "I know Krav Maga," he said. "And I ain't afraid of you."

"You're fucking pathetic, Kevin."

"Stay back, I can-."

Helen moved forward, she didn't mean to hit him, but in Kevin's mind, the tall girl with the single blazing eye was about to end his life. He kicked her stomach with the flat of his shoe. Next thing he remembered was flying through the living-room's air. Her punch was so swift and so precise that it stole the oxygen from his lungs.

Helen picked him up by his shirt. "Who gave you fucking permission to read my letters," she said quietly.

"What letters?"

"These letters." She pushed the letters from the red box in his face.

"They're not yours," he stammered.

"Really?"

"They... They belong to Andy. They're Andy's letters."

"Andy is dead." Her lower lip trembled.

He was more confused than frightened now. Her face was the same level as his and he saw now that what he had mistaken for fury was a bottomless well of hurt and shame. "How? How did he...?" he started. "Then...Then the letters belong to a girl named Valkyrie."

She nodded. "Don't you ever talk to me again, Kevin. Don't you ever look at me! Don't you ever go near me! And don't you ever, ever, touch my private stuff again!" She dropped him to the floor, turned around and stormed back to her room.

Kevin sat on the floor for a long time after she left, staring at the now empty hallway.

"What was that all about?" Diana was leaning on the doorway, but other than that she looked nothing like she did five minutes ago. Her rosy cheek color was almost back.

"Fuck if I know," Kevin said. "It's about the letters I told you about."

"The Andy letters?"

"Yeah, written by someone called Valkyrie. Apparently, Andy...never mind. It's complicated, and I feel like I've done something terrible. Let's just go to bed."

Diana snorted. "Valkyrie wrote them?"

"Do you know her?"

"Of course I do! It's on Helen's nightstand. A picture of her platoon, each marine with their nickname written underneath. There's Thrombo Lance, Ryan Gonorrhoea, King Boo, Short Lance, and Valkyrie."

"Valkyrie served with Helen? Did she die in battle or something?"

"No, you fucking bozo! Valkyrie is Helen."

"What? Why? What? Valkyrie is Helen? What?"

"How much did you drink, Baby Butt?"

"Jesus." Kevin mashed his head into his hands. "Jesus, Diana I did something horrible."

"You? You don't have a single mean bone in your body."

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To be continued...