Senior Year: Devin & Julia's Day at the Fair, Pt. 2

Cheating
2006-02-25

Hi everybody.

Here it is, Thursday morning. I still haven’t emailed Julia back, to let her know if I’m going with her or not. No feedback from you folks yet either, not even after a couple thousand hits on the first part of this post. Thanks for helping a brotha’ out, Dear Readers. The story does currently have a 18 star rating, however. That’s nifty.

Unfortunately, my quandary continues…

The question is this: Do I go to the state fair this weekend with Julia, the woman who is basically my sister-in-law, and who I’ve had the hots for for the last several years (and who I think has the hots for me too)? And if I do, do I make a mess out of everything – meaning, am I reading into her invitation what I think I am, and do I act on it? Or, am I just a complete and total idiot who’s thinking with his dick?

Decisions, decisions.

Now, the invitation may be very innocent. Realistically, I know it probably is, and that I’m just a big, over-sexed dork. I’ve been pondering the repercussions of tagging along for the last week; ever since Julia sent me the email reminding me about the fair and asking me to go with her because her husband (herein known as ‘Hubby’) won’t. Hubby and my girlfriend Diana – his sister – both seem okay with the idea of Julia and I spending the day – and possibly night – together, alone and unsupervised.

If you read part one of this story, you’ll understand my issues. If not…well, let’s just say that Julia and I have a history of some uncomfortable/embarrassing situations together. Little things scattered here and there over the years. Stuff that’s never amounted to anything, really.

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Or maybe I’m wrong.

 

I’ll let you read part one and decide for yourself if I’m just reading things badly, because my cell phone’s ringing, and I should probably answer it.

The caller-I. D. says it’s Julia.

Looks like I might have to give her an answer without the benefit of your help.

***

Well, she asked me again. Sounded all excited; gushed on and on about how much fun we were going to have. I might have smiled.

I said yes. That I’d love to go.

She said she’d pick me up tomorrow, right at noon.

I said I’d be here waiting. Then I hung up and called Diana to let her know and felt guilty during the entire call, wondering what the hell I was getting myself into.

***

When I woke up at nine, Diana had already left for work.

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   I took a quick run, stretched, ate a banana and a bowl of granola, loaded up on my allergy medicine and jumped in the shower. Soaped up, rinsed, and dried off with minutes to spare. The sun was shining and it was already warm out, so I pulled on a pair of shorts and a black t-shirt, packed a day bag with some warmer clothes, and by the time I finished, the doorbell was ringing. I slipped into a worn-out pair of cracked leather hiking boots, grabbed my bag and ran downstairs.

I found Julia with her hands up, pressed against the glass panel of my front door to cut the glare from the sun, peering into the dark house. When she saw me come down the stairs, she grinned and waved. She was totally Gap-ed out: wearing a pale blue, fitted, button-down blouse over a white v-neck t-shirt; the blouse open down just past swell of her breasts and tucked into a tight pair of new khaki walking shorts. Her legs were shaved smooth and still tanned a golden brown from the anniversary vacation she and Hubby had taken to Hawaii a few months ago. Her weight was slightly on the upswing – her breasts were enormous and wobbled as she waved. The sight of her tits bouncing around in all their cannon-ball sized glory made my mouth go dry; dry enough that I had to lick my lips to get the moisture flowing again.

I cleared my throat, waved back and unlocked the door. Opened it and let her in.

She took off her silver-framed racing sunglasses, folded them and tucked them between her breasts. My eyes followed her hand, lingered on the glasses. Vaguely, the Little Devil that lives in my head informed me how lucky they were to be able to rest there.

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   My Little Angel reluctantly agreed.

Julia caught me looking. Smiled. “Hey,” she said, eyeing my pack. “Ready to go?”

“Yep. ” I tore my eyes away from her cleavage. “Just let me find my cell phone and my…uh, my sunglasses. ”

“Okay. ”

She followed me into the dining room (the scene of our last – and my most embarrassing encounter, when she and my mother in law had walked in on me one morning while I was jacking off at the dining room table), stretching as she walked.

“I already packed lunch and stuff for us. You don’t have to bring anything. ”

“Really?” I mumbled, and unplugged my cell phone from its charger, and tucked it away in its own little pouch on my bags’ strap. I patted the pouch to make sure everything was secure, and found my sunglasses under the pile of junk mail scattered on the tabletop.

“Um-hmm. ”

“I didn’t even think about food, just brought some warmer clothes, in case…” I turned around in time to catch Julia with her elbows up over her head, bent at an angle with her forearms wrapped down behind her neck, still stretching.

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Pushing her chest out at me.

Her blouse and t-shirt came un-tucked, pulled slightly out of the waistband of her shorts. Flashed her tan belly, her tiny little waist. I trailed off, stared. She threw a sly, flirtatious grin at me. I blinked and had to lick my lips again.

“Oh, okay. ” She yawned and jingled her keys. “Ready?”

“Sure,” I said, thickly. “Let’s go. ”

                                

I followed Julia out and locked up. She was parked right at the front curb. She bweeped her new gold Land Rover unlocked. I tossed my bag in the backseat next to hers, and we piled in and buckled up.

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   The soft leather seats crinkled under us as we got comfy. She stuck the key in the ignition and fired the SUV up, turned to me and gave me another grin.

“I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks. ”

I nodded as the climate control came on, blasting us with cool air. The stereo blipped on too, something loud blasting out of the speakers. Alannis Morrisette, I think. She turned it down low enough that we could talk without shouting.

“Me too,” I said.

She smiled, pulled out into the street. “Really?”

“Sure. ”

“You’re not just being nice, and going with me because no one else would?”

I raised my eyebrow in best Spock fashion. “Why would I do that?”

She shrugged, slipped back on her sunglasses. I found mine and followed her lead: it was bright enough out that I’d have a nice headache later if I didn’t.

“I don’t know, just…,” she frowned, looked kind of sheepish. I decided to pry a bit.

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“Just what?”

“Greg and Diana thought it was funny. ”

Ah, Greg. Otherwise known as Hubby.

I tried to sound flippant. “Funny, huh?”

“Uh-huh. ”

“Well, I want to go. ” I turned, gave her my honest eyes. “It sounds fun. ”

She turned to me and smiled. “And there’ll be barbecue. ”

Our own private joke.

“Ah, God. That’s right. That’s how you got me to come along. ”

Julia grinned and checked her rearview mirror, signaled to get on the freeway.

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   When she turned her head, I took the chance to really look her over. She had settled easily back in her seat, used her right hand to steer the big SUV with. The smooth, round muscles in her legs tightened and relaxed as she drove. She was wearing expensive new sneakers with no socks; a delicate, golden ankle bracelet dangling around her right ankle. Her seatbelt was strapped across the middle of her chest, crossing right between her breasts, defining them; making them seem even larger. I could see the outline of her bra through her t-shirt; it looked white and lacy. Nice.

With the air-conditioning on full blast, it was quickly getting cold in the car. Her nipples poked out through the thin material of her blouse.

I swallowed hard, closed my eyes and turned my attention to the road in front of us.

• Julia

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The fairgrounds were a couple hours away, even if we had light traffic. Suddenly, I couldn’t remember ever spending more than a few minutes alone with Julia, ever; in all the years we’d known each other. What the hell were we going to talk about?

It was going to be a long drive.

***

We stopped once for gas, at a dilapidated quickie-mart/burger-chicken-and jo-jo joint. Julia asked the scrubby guy in battered overalls who came out to pump our gas where the restroom was.

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   He dug a grimy key out of his pocket, grunted, and pointed to a door on the side of the building.

“Be right back,” she said, and gingerly took the key from his grease covered fingers.

I went inside to pay. A cowbell jangled when I opened the door. The clerk barely even looked up, all his attention riveted on a video security monitor set on top of the cluttered counter. I poked around the store for a minute and found a couple bottles of water, which were the only items other than beer that didn’t look too out of date.

It took the clerk a second to divert his attention from the monitor when I plopped the bottles on the counter. He snuffled snot and pinched the tip of his zit-infested nose with grimy fingers. Punched a button on the old manual cash register twice. “That’ll be two-ninety-eight. ”

I dug out my wallet. “What’cha watching?”

His eyes went wide and he snuffled more snot and glanced down at the monitor, then over at the door. I noticed a dusty VCR tucked into a cubby hole under the counter, right under the monitor. The machine was on and recording.

He looked nervous, antsy that somebody was talking to him.

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   “Nothin’. ”

“Aw, C’mon, don’t be like that…” I tried to peek, but he had the monitor turned away at an angle, so I could just see a blur of motion on the black and white screen. The screen was sectioned off into four separate feeds and looked live, piped in from somewhere, but not from the store.

The clerk leaned over the counter, peered out at the guy pumping the gas. I caught a whiff of bad B. O. “Okay, here. ” He gave me a conspiratorial wink, turned the monitor my way. “Check it out man. ”

I squinted and leaned over the counter, wondering for a second what I was looking at. Then my mouth fell open.

“We got some hidden cameras set up in the bathroom. Here, there’s sound, too. ” He touched a dial on the monitor. And suddenly I was listening to and watching Julia sit and pee, from four distinct angles.

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I looked up at the clerk. He grinned at me and nodded. He was missing his front teeth. Most of the others, too. “Pretty cool, huh?”

It took me a second to answer. I just couldn’t stop staring. Julia finished peeing, and I watched her wipe. I tried to scope out where the cameras were placed: I figured there was one hidden in the wall above the sink, probably hidden behind the mirror; there was one mounted in the middle of the ceiling; and another one right behind the toilet, about waist-high. And the crowning achievement: one camera planted right inside the toilet bowl – giving us a bird’s-eye view right up Julia’s naked butt.

“Uh…yeah. ” I mumbled, and glanced at the VCR. “You record this stuff?”

“Yeah, well…” He looked uncomfortable again, as if he knew this could get him in deep shit, but he couldn’t help but show off. “Just the girls. Y’know, the cute ones. No dudes.

 

  â€

Julia stood up, completely unaware of the cameras, her shorts and panties down around her ankles. Shades of me at my dining room table. I caught a quick glimpse of her pubic hair as she pulled up her panties. Lacy and white – her panties, I mean – matching her bra. Her pubic hair just looked light and gray in the monitor.

I heard the clerk sigh happily. I felt something stirring, down south in my pants. Julia flushed and stepped to the sink, washed her hands.

“Nice, huh?” He asked.

I raised both my eyebrows. “Yeah, I guess. Just try not to get caught. ”

“Yeah, no kiddin’. ” He nodded and carefully turned the monitor away. “Anyway, the water’ll be three bucks.

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The cowbell jangled and the gas-jockey poked his head in. “Y’all done in here? Tank’s filled up and yer girl’s back from the toilet. ”

I smiled at the clerk, nodded at the monitor, and pulled out a fifty. “I’ll pay for the gas she bought too. ”

The clerk gulped. I actually heard it. “Uh, okay…” he half turned to the gas-guy. “What pump was that Mel?”

“Three. ”

The cowbell clanked again. Mel’s head disappeared from view. The clerk pinched his nose and rang me up. “Uh, that’ll be Forty-four-oh-five, with the gas. ”

“Holy shit, that’s a lot. ”

“Yeah. ” He shrugged, then he leaned closer.

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   I smelled more B. O. He jerked his eyeballs towards the security monitor and practically whispered, “Hey man, uh, was that your wife in the john, or whatever? I mean, shit, I didn’t…”

“Nope. Don’t worry about it. ” I handed over the bill and a nickel. He shrugged again, confused, and gave me some crumpled singles back. I slapped them back down on the counter and pointed at the VCR. “Keep it. Consider it a tip. Enjoy that video, okay?”

He paused, confused. “Yeah, uh, okay. ”

I turned to go.

He scooped up his money, shouted after me, “Hey! Have a nice day, mister!”

***

I found Julia leaning on the Land Rover’s fender, one foot up on the bumper, letting the sun shine down on her upturned face. She gave me a slow, lazy wave and peeled away from the warm car.

“What took you so long, Cowboy?”

“Cowboy?”

She grinned, and I handed her one of the bottles.

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“Mmm, thanks. ” She cracked the seal and took a sip. “Yeah, Cowboy. We are going to the state fair, you know, to check out the horses and stuff. ”

“Oh, right. Horses. Cowboy. I get it. ”

She gave me a pat on the shoulder and scooted by me, skipped around the front of the SUV to the drivers’ side. I felt her touch all the way down into my already excited crotch. Standing a few feet away from me, the scrubby guy who’d pumped our gas spit a hunk of green tobacco juice onto the pavement and watched Julia’s ass until she’d walked all the way around to her door. She opened her door, I pulled open mine. We jumped inside.

“So,” she said, clicking her seatbelt back into place. “What took you so long?”

“Ah, well, the guy inside…was telling me about his…home movies.

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   I guess we had something in common. ”

“Huh. Interesting stuff?”

“You’d be surprised,” I said, and shut my door.

Julia started the SUV. I rolled down my window. The clerk had joined the gas-guy by the pumps, and they were both staring after us. The clerk was sporting a fair-sized boner in his coveralls as we drove off.

***

It was well after two in the afternoon when we finally pulled into the fairgrounds’ jam-packed parking lot. It took forever, but we finally found a spot open way in the back of the lot. Julia was muttering to herself during the entire ten-minute hunt.

She gave a frustrated sigh. “Doesn’t anybody work anymore? And look at all these kids. Shouldn’t they be in school?”

I laughed and looked around at a sea of wooly-mustached men with big belt buckles riding their Wrangler jeans, cowboy hats on their heads; chubby women with puffy hair, fake tits and tight acid-wash jeans; and the kids running around with filthy, snot-covered faces.

“Hey, it’s redneck land, remember? I don’t think any of these people went to school. ”

We stepped out of the Land Rover into the crowd, got our bags and strapped them on.

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   I took a big, deep breath, expecting to smell the fresh country air people are always talking about. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that fresh country air smelled a whole lot like ripe cow shit.

Give me some nice fresh smog anytime.

However, to my surprise, I did notice a lot of nice new BMW’s and Lexus’s and a bundle of big, expensive SUV’s mixed in with the standard jacked up trucks.

Julia stepped around to my side of the Land Rover and we made our way into the flow of the lemmings. The smell of cow shit got stronger the closer we got to the entry. When we reached the line at the main gate, we had a small tiff over who was going to pay for our tickets. Julia put her foot down.

“No way. I invited you, remember? And you already paid for gas. That probably cost a bunch. ” She pulled my hand away from my wallet and pushed in front of me. The ladies working the booth looked on, bemused. “This is my treat. ”

I knew when I was beaten.

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   I held up my hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. ”

Julia smiled triumphantly. “Two adults. ”

The lady at the register held out a hand. “Fifty seven dollars please. ”

Wow, I thought. Sixty bucks to smell fresh cow poop.

Julia didn’t seem to bat an eye. She just forked over the money and grabbed the tickets. Then she took me by the arm and led me through the turnstile, where a weathered-old geezer ripped our tickets, and into the fair.

At least, I think she did. All I was aware of at that point was her arm twined in mine, and the press of her warm body against me. Giddy and stupid, sprouting a sudden boner that was so hard and throbbed so badly it hurt like hell.

I hate to say it, but I spent most of the afternoon like that.

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***

We’d come all this way to see the horses, not smell the cow shit. I found this out right away. Julia told me that she’d grown up on a farm, raising and riding the big animals since she was a little girl. She talked as we walked, giving me the fine points on raising show horses. I think I already knew most of what she was telling me from conversations with Diana, who grew up much the same way. And, also like my conversations with Diana, all the information on the subject blew out of my head as soon as it went in.

 We wandered around the straw-strewn cement paths, moving with the flow of the crowd, pausing now and then at little booths hawking crummy doodads and dodging dirty kids with cotton candy smeared faces, until we found an auction going on.

We stopped to watch for a bit.

“Did you ever ride?” Julia asked.

“Not really. Well, once, when I was a kid, on a vacation with my folks. We stopped at some place on the coast and went riding for maybe an hour or so. ”

“Did you like it?”

I shrugged. “Kind of, I guess. All I really remember is that my horse just wanted to eat and kept drifting off into the bushes.

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  â€

“You’re supposed to control that. ”

“Yeah, well. I figured the horse knew what it was doing. ”

“Ah, my little Cowboy. ”

She smiled wistfully. Crossed her arms under her breasts and leaned on the wood railing separating the auction crowd under their canvas awning from the pathways. We were quiet for a minute. I watched her watch the animals, thinking, ‘My little Cowboy’?

“Do you miss it?” I asked. “Being a farm girl?”

“Sometimes. ”

Another quiet spell. Before it got uncomfortable, Julia looked up at me. “Did Diana tell you that Greg and I were going to try and have another baby?”

“Uh, no,” I blinked. “I don’t think so. ”

She turned her attention back to the auction. Quiet again.

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   I wondered where that comment came from, and how the hell I supposed to respond. I cleared my throat.

“So…three, huh?”

Julia nodded. Watched a chestnut colored horse nicker and snort. The horse pee’d in the straw, its huge shlong flopping. I stared. “Suddenly, I feel a little inadequate.

Julia laughed at me, then got serious again. “I told Greg I wanted to get a dog. ”

Okay, now I was getting confused. So…

“A…dog. ” I was really lost. “I…”

“Uh-huh. ” She made a face. “For the kids.

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   They’ve wanted one forever. But Greg hates dogs. He said he’d rather have another baby. And he was ready for me to have my tubes tied after we had Ronnie. ”

I had absolutely no idea what to say. So I said, “Oh. So you’re saying her really doesn’t want to get a dog. ”

“Mm. ”

“But…” Tentative, here. “You’re going to have another kid instead.

“Mm-hmm. ”

That seemed to answer that. I watched her chew on her lip. “So…do you want more kids?”

She took a minute to answer. “I don’t know.

 

   I…sometimes I have a hard time with being a mom. ”

“I can imagine…”

“I had a really bad pregnancy with Ronnie. And after, too. ” She hugged herself tighter. “I got really depressed. Greg and I almost separated. ”

Diana had told me all this, in confidence. I wasn’t supposed to know.

“We’re okay now,” she continued, “at least, I’m okay. More or less. We’re still working on things. ”

I knew what that was like.

Julia looked up, searched my face. Blurted, “Why haven’t you married Diana?”

“What?”

“Do you love her?” Julia turned slightly. Shifted closer.

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   “You’ve almost been together as long as me and Greg. Why haven’t you gotten married?”

“Um. Well…”

“Greg told me that Marlene offered to pay for your wedding and your honeymoon if you did. ”

Ah, yes. Marlene and her good intentions. What a god-awful no-win situation that had been.

“Yeah, she did. ”

“But you didn’t. ”

I shook my head. “No, we didn’t. ”

“Why?”

I sighed, exasperated. “Julia…”

“It’s okay, if you don’t want to talk about it. ”

“Okay,” I was getting grumpy. “Good. ”

She changed the subject.

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   “Are you hungry?”

I hadn’t eaten anything since my bowl of granola that morning. My stomach was doing flip-flops. That was probably what was making me cranky. Low blood sugar.

“Oh, yeah. ”

***

We paid another ten bucks to enter a beer garden. For our ten dollars, we got a pair of red tickets – scrip – to use for one drink each. I got a foamy, lukewarm cup half full of dark ale and Julia got a small cup of hard lemonade.

The lady who served our drinks pointed at me, then at Julia. “Hey, are you two related?”

“Uh,” I glanced at Julia. “No…”

“Wow. You really look a lot alike, like you could be twins, almost. ”

Julia’s head jerked back half an inch. “We do?

The woman nodded sagely. She reached out and patted the back of Julia’s hand.

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   “Oh, honey, yes you do. Mary!” She called to her partner, busy ringing up the customers at the end of the line. “Look at these two and tell me they aren’t brother and sister. ”

Mary pushed her bifocals back up her nose and examined us. “Yep. You’re right Deb. ” She pointed at Julia, then at me, twirling her finger in a circle. “It’s right there in the noses and the eyes. ”

“Honey, I am never wrong about these things. ” I handed Mary our scrip as Deb leaned over the canvas covered table. “I’ll bet a dollar to donuts you kids are tryin’ to spoof us. You here with the rest of your families?”

I looked around, whispered. “Actually, Deb, you’re right. We are brother and sister…But we have kind of a…” I trailed off.

“Kind of what?”

.

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