Just Them Ch. 02

The sun fell lazy through the glass, coating the carpet in a fuzzy haze. The sounds of the television became a lulling, imprecise rhythm, fading deeper and deeper into the barely noticed areas of his mind.

The couch cushion smelled of corn chips, and there was a small spring pressing into his side. His thumb, operating independent of his brain, pressed the channel button. Every three seconds. There was a brief moment each change when the screen went black and he could see himself stretched out on the couch in the reflection of the screen.

He was alone in the den. His first day off in over two weeks, and he was utilizing it as best he could. He thought of the days just a year ago when he was balancing school and work. At least in that there was something to keep variety in his day. Different classes, different people, and a varying work schedule. As it was, he was grinding away doing the same job everyday, all day. His only consolation was in the growing bank account.

His father had agreed that it was a good idea for him to keep living at home, continue paying the small monthly rent he'd paid over the past five years, and save his money to get a home of his own. His father was in no hurry to push his children out of the home. Calvin knew this. He saw in those moments when he found his father sitting by himself in the den, staring blankly at the television, that once he and his sister were gone, their father would be alone.

Calvin had worked hard the last year. College was behind him, and he was putting his all into his job. His father had told him in private how immensely proud he was of both Calvin and his sister. They had done all he could ever ask. That made it all worth it.

Calvin heard the door shut in the next room. He didn't move as he clicked from channel to channel. His body appeared every three seconds. He saw himself covering the couch, dressed in his best ripped sweat shirt and boxer shorts. Channel, him. Channel, him. Channel, him. Channel, Anne. She was standing behind him, leaning over the couch.

"You alive?" she asked him. He mumbled something and turned on his side. The spring that had been sticking him, made a popping noise at his increased weight.

"I just finished my paper. I think I did pretty good. Could you read it? Let me know?" She ran a finger over his ear, tucking his hair back.

"Sure."

"How about some lunch?" she asked, bending over the back of the couch until she was just inches from his ear. "You must be famished after all of this activity."

"Not really." He continued changing channels. It took her three clicks of the remote to walk around the couch and then to stretch out next to him on what was left of the cushions. She laid her head on his outstretched arm and stretched her legs out with his. Her bare feet rested on his shins. He put his nose to her hair and breathed in deeply.

"You smell nice," he whispered.

"We have the house to ourselves, you know."

"I know."

"So, you want to keep watching TV?"

"Nothing else to do."

"We could talk about world events."

"Not happening." She took the remote from his hand and punched in the music channel. Someone beautiful was singing something trite. He couldn't remember who it was. It was hard to keep them all straight.

"We could go over my paper." She turned the volume up. He watched the lean curvature of her arms as she aimed it at the screen. His free arm came around and slid under the waistband of her skirt.

"No panties?"

"Laundry day," she said, still fiddling with the remote. "How do I get it to do the picture in a box thing?"

"Blue button." Her skin was warm and smooth. "It's called 'picture in picture'."

"Whatever." She pulled it up and soon there was another music channel showing another beautiful singer; mouthing trite words, he was sure.

"What are we watching?" He slid his hand over her smooth hip and down between her legs. She pulled her legs up and sighed.

"I don't know." They lay on their sides and pretended to care what was on the screen. Every few minutes she would switch the pictures and the music would be momentarily silent.

"It's nice in here. We don't get to have the day together very often," she said softly. He felt her lips on his arm. Soon, it was his lips on her neck. Then it was her hand pressing his hand tighter between her thighs.

She turned on her belly, aiming the remote at the television again, turning it up louder than before.

"I really like this song," she panted. Calvin just pulled his arm out from under her chin and lifted his body over hers. When he was sitting, straddling her thighs, he shimmied her skirt down to her knees, and slipped his shorts down just below his balls.

She was smiling over her shoulder as she flattened her shoulders to the seat cushion and lifted her ass as much as she could. Anne had her t-shirt wrenched up over her breasts as she rubbed against the rough material of the couch.

Calvin lowered himself, pressing gently to her chestnut skin. He slid a hand between them and took hold of his cock. With practices ease, he guided it to her already moist pussy, pushing slowly, inch by inch. He barely heard her soft grunts over the television. Her firm cheeks rubbed against his belly as he moved in and out of her. They took their time. He no longer felt obscene in the daylight. She had told him over and over that they were what they were. She loved him, and he loved her.

She whispered to him and he just picked up the pace. He moved inside her, trying to hold out as long as he could. He never lasted long when they fucked like that. Anne was mumbling something he didn't understand when she closed her eyes and brought her tight fists up under her chin. He felt her body tense and release a few times before she locked onto him. He let go. He just relaxed and buried himself as far as he could inside her. She popped her eyes open and had a look of surprise on her face as he came in her burning cunt.

Every time was the first time for them. It was never boring, or casual. It meant as much physically and emotionally, and had as much impact as the first time they ever fucked. There were times that were more intense, but never more important.

Calvin slid himself off her sweaty body, wedging himself again between her body and the couch back. Neither one made any moves to cover themselves.

His hands smoothed her hair from her face as she turned to look at him. She closed her eyes as he leaned forward. Their mouths met, tasting each other hungrily, and breaking only for air. She slid an arm under him as she turned her body to his, and brought her other arm around his body, holding him close. Her face buried itself against his thick chest, as he wrapped his long arms around her body.

* * * *

Calvin heard a noise coming from the back room. It was a small bedroom that had been converted to a study for their father. He spent a great deal of time in there with his books and his radio. He had disappeared after dinner and hadn't come out since.

Calvin walked down the hall, sipping gingerly from his too-full glass of water. He saw his father sitting on the small leather couch, holding a picture of Calvin and Anne's mother. He was running his thumbs over the glass and looked to have been crying. His eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks glinted under the soft lamps.

"Dad? Everything okay?"

"Sit down, Calvin."

Calvin walked in and took a seat opposite his father. The old chair still had a bit of padding left. It was Calvin's mother's and they were going to have to pry it from their father's cold hands to get rid of it.

"She wanted so much for you two," his father said. "I tried to do it right. I was working so much when you two were growing up, I didn't know how to do it when she died. I swear, I did what I could..."

"Dad, what's wrong? You're freaking me out." Calvin sat the glass on the floor and leaned forward, inching to the edge of the seat.

"I...I came home for lunch today," his father said hoarsely. Heat blossomed through Calvin's body, then dropped to a chill. He felt the hair stand up on his neck. His hands went numb.

"You..."

"I came home for lunch and found you two in the...I saw what you..." He couldn't say it. He took a breath, holding back the sobs that were threatening to take his voice. "I heard the TV blaring before I walked in the front door. I was about to tell one of you to turn it down, when...

"At first I thought...I was about to scream at you, tell you to leave her alone. But then I saw her face." He just sat there, looking at the old hand-carved frame of Calvin's mother. "Thank God your mother didn't live to see this. I thank God for that. What were you..." he broke off, shaking his head.

"Dad," Calvin said, his mind racing to think of a way out of it.

"Don't speak. I don't want to hear your voice right now." He didn't say anything for nearly five minutes. Calvin just waited.

"I think it's time you left my house. Both of you."

"Dad, please, it's my fault. I'll leave. I'm sorry. I'll leave tonight. But don't kick Annie out. It's not her fault. I talked her into it."

"I'm going to go to a motel tonight. I won't be back until tomorrow night. That should give you enough time to pack whatever you need and leave." He hadn't looked up the whole time. He just kept his face to the picture and stroked the glass with his thumbs.

"Please - Dad, listen...Annie didn't do this. I did. It's all on me. Let her stay. At least let her have time to find a place. I'll get out of here tonight, I promise."

"Both of you," he said in a far away voice. "I don't want you in my house. In your mother's house. Maybe if she'd been here, this wouldn't..." He stood up, and Calvin flinched. He thought he was going to hit him. He would have let him. His father never let go of the picture as he walked to a wooden desk in the corner. He opened a drawer and pulled out a cigar box wrapped with a thick, green rubber band. He tossed it to his son and kept his back to him.

"It's every bit of money you two paid in rent. I was going to give it to you when you moved out. It was enough for me that you paid it. I never wanted the money. I was just trying to get you ready for the world. I tried. I tried my best. Jesus, God, I tried." He crossed his arms tight, holding the picture to his breast.

"As far as anyone will ever know, you just moved out. That's it. No one will ever find out why. Your mother and I don't have any more family. All of your grandparents have mercifully passed on, so at least no one will know what our children have done." He wiped a hand over his head with a rough motion.

"How long...No. I don't want to know. I know enough." Without looking at him, his father turned to go out the door. He paused a moment and Calvin had a bit of hope that he might at least look at him before it was all done.

"On the counter is an envelope." His voice was thin and weary. "It's all the paper work you need to turn the title of the Chevy over to you. You paid enough on the upkeep, it wouldn't be right for to send you out with nothing."

"Dad -"

"I'll be back by six tomorrow night. Be gone by then." Calvin sat numbly, holding the heavy box, blinking unbelievably as he listened to the front door shut. He heard the car start in the garage and then he heard the short whine of the automatic door as it shut.

He forgot his glass as he rose on unsteady legs. He walked out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen. His head felt as though it would implode. Things weren't supposed to turn out this way, he thought. But what did we expect would happen? He screamed at himself in his mind and just stood there, looking at the envelope on the counter. He'd seen it earlier and ignored it's presence.

"Oh, God," he finally said. They'd destroyed their father's life. The little bit he had that he cared about, they had utterly destroyed. And now he had to tell Anne.

He dragged the envelope over the smooth counter top and dropped it as he tried to pick it up. He bent over to lift it from the carpet and felt sick. Snatching up the small package he ran to the bathroom by the stair and flung the lid on the toilet just in time to lose his dinner.

By the time he made it upstairs, he was wiping the overly sweet flavor of mouthwash from his lips. The envelope was tucked between the lid of the box and the rubber band. He walked to Anne's room.

"Hey," she said as he walked in. "Did dad just leave?" He just nodded as he sat next to her on her bed.

"He knows," Calvin blurted out.

"Knows what?" she asked, not looking up from her book.

"Us. He knows about us."

"What?" she said flatly. Her book dropped from her hand.

"He came home this noon when we were in the den. He...He knows." Calvin looked into the worried eyes of his sister. She was starting to cry. Her lip trembled as she tried to think of what to say. Calvin brushed a tear from her cheek and told her to calm down.

"What'll we..."

"He told me we have to leave. He doesn't want us to...we just have to leave. He's gone to a motel. We have to be out by tomorrow evening."

"How...?"

"He held on to all the money we've been paying him for rent. 300 a month each...should be about 40-some grand in here. We'll have to get a motel room for a while. Start looking for an apartment. Maybe a house. Got enough to..." She put her fingers to his lips. He'd been rambling in a monotone from the start.

She just pulled him to her and they sat there, trying to make some of the hurt go away.

* * * *

"I guess that's everything. I hate to leave him with all of the rest of this, but..."

"It'll be fine. I'm leaving a few hundred here for whatever it costs to unload this stuff. I don't know what else to do."

"Are you all packed?"

"Yeah. Clothes, and a few boxes of stuff I don't want to lose. I didn't really have that much." He just stood in his doorway, looking at her. "I can leave a note asking him to hold onto the rest of your things. We could hire one of those movers to come and get it."

"No. I don't want to have to do this twice." She tried to smile to reassure him, but it didn't come out right.

"I'm sorry about this, Annie." She moved across the hall and wrapped her arms as tight around him as she could.

"What's he going to do?"

"I don't know. Thank God I've got you."

"And I've got you."

"It's just a little after midnight. Come and sleep in my bed. One last time." She stepped away and pulled him after her. They walked through the now much emptier room to the quilt covered bed.

"You're leaving the lamp?" he asked when he saw their mother's lampshade still next to the bed.

"I didn't know if he'd want it left or not. It wouldn't feel right outside this house, anyway." He kissed her as they undressed.

They climbed under the covers and turned off the light. He felt her hand slide down his chest and continue past his hard belly.

"I don't think we should. Not tonight." He said. He couldn't see her, but he could feel her breath on his chest.

"I want our last night here to have some kind of good in it. I want this, Calvin. I do."

"I love you, Annie."

"I love you."

They slid together softly, pressing their bodies against one another and trying to feel right about something that night. He was gentle, and as his eyes adjusted to the light, he could see the moonlight reflected in her own eyes.

"Do you remember the first time we did this in here?" she asked.

"Yes. You couldn't stop giggling."

"I know. I felt like I was going to explode." He felt her legs come up around him as he fucked her slowly. Her skin was sending heat into his body like a small fire. Her breath was coming sharper in his ear. He tasted her earlobe and kissed at her neck.

Her hands slid around his back as he moved harder within her.

"You...you love me?" she asked him.

"Yes, baby. I love you so much," he said in her ear. She clamped her arms tight around his thick neck and he heard her strained moan go through her as she came. He held her tight as he pumped faster, suddenly shooting into her and then trying to shut out the stifled crying at his ear.

* * * *

It was noon, and they stood in the doorway to the house. She looked around, staring at nothing. He watched her get her last look at her home.

"C'mon. Cars all packed. Let's just get out of here. No sense in making it harder than it is." He put his arm around her shoulders. She just nodded and let her hand drift over his chest as she turned and left.

He took a last look at the place where he had grown up, and fallen in love. The place where his mother had died. The only place he'd ever called home. His hand checked the door once and then he shut it.

"We'll be okay, Annie," he said as he got in the car. "We're not kids. We'll be fine." He looked at the house through the windshield, still hardly believing what they were doing.

"It's not that," she said as she dabbed at her eyes with a wadded tissue she kept in her pocket.

"No. I know it's not."

"Let's go, okay?" She looked at him and tried to smile.

"Yeah. Maybe he'll come around. It might take a while, but he might," he said as they backed out of the drive.

"Maybe," she agreed. They both knew it was a lie. She leaned over and kissed him. Her finger came up to wipe lipstick from his face and then she sat back.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Ready," she said. This time she wasn't lying.

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END

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Author's note: I hope you enjoyed this second part. There are four total. As with all of my stories, I would like to thank you for taking the time to read them, and would encourage you to vote if you liked it, and any feedback is greatly welcomed. Thanks.

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Bob Clark Jr.