Emilie in the 80s: 11 &12 (Patreon)

Chapter 11

Pete couldn’t stop thinking about his encounter with Brad. The feeling of Brad’s arm locked around his waist, Brad pressing his body up against Pete’s… the feeling of Brad’s strong hand on Pete’s face…. The near kiss…

His kept having hot flashes… he was thirsty and his mind raced… he longed for the touch of a man…. He couldn’t help it. His body had needs, demands, and his mind was consumed with them.

The final bell rang. Pete found himself in Mr. Kelly’s room. “Hey, Mr. Kelly,” he said, letting his hips sway as he walked in, shoulders back, chest out.

“Oh, hey,” Mr. Kelly said, unable to stop himself from letting his eyes drift down to Pete’s swelling breasts, straining to get out of his little blouse. “What’s up?”

“I just … I need someone to talk to…”. Pete said, letting his voice slide up into a higher register, like a little girl’s.

“What about?” Mr. Kelly said, his voice getting hoarse.

Pete licked his lips. “I feel so lonely,” he said. “I need someone to hold me. Do you ever feel that way? Do you ever want someone to hold you, John?”

Mr. John Kelly swallowed. He held up his hand, wedding band gleaming. “I have a wife,” he said.

Pete stepped forward, taking John’s tie in his hands, caressing it. He looked up into John’s eyes and pouted. “I won’t tell her if you don’t,” Pete whispered.

“Oh, God,” John said as Pete tugged his tie and dragged him toward the storage room. “Oh, God.”

Pete was in total control, and he loved it.

After, Pete pulled the door to the storage room closed, tucking his blouse back into his skirt, mussing his hair. He would need to fix his makeup. He felt calm now, relaxed, his insatiable hunger satisfied. As for the sex itself, he wasn’t sure. He couldn’t deny that he’d loved it, every minute of it, but wasn’t he a man? Didn’t he have a wife? How could he have just girls gone wild like that, making John Kelly do everything in every way he could think of?

Inside the storage room, John had fallen asleep, the way guys did after being ravished. Hopefully, his wife would never find out. Pete really didn’t want to cause trouble. He headed toward the girls room so he could finish his makeup, thinking, Well, I am not a virgin anymore. He would have to write something about that in his diary, he supposed. It was pretty major. Should he tell Fiona? He really wasn’t sure, but he knew he would have to resist the urge he had to climb on top of the school and shout if from the rooftops.

He had just banged the hell out of Mr. Kelly, and it made him feel like a goddess.

Chapter 12

Back home, Pete fell into his usual routine. Going to his room and doing a little homework; it was surprising to him how much he’d forgotten over the years, so revisiting the history book, refreshing his Spanish, it was actually pretty fun. Mom called him down to diner, and he picked at his food, detached, not really listening to the family conversation. He kept thinking about his little fling, processing what had happened, and trying to figure out if it was good or bad that he had liked it so much.  How could he ever talk to his own daughter about sex again?

Mom had made Hamburger Helper. Stove top stuffing. Instant potatoes. It all tasted like chemicals to Pete, and he marveled that people used to eat this way, back before whole grains and natural ingredients became a thing in the Midwest. Luckily, he didn’t have as much of an appetite anymore. As he speared a limp noodle and held it on his fork, he thought about Mr. Kelly, their bodies pressed together…

On television, the news reported that the USAF as part of the Alaskan Air Defense Command has intercepted a record number of Soviet attempts to probe the Alaskan Air Defense Zone. Thus far the Air Force has intercepted 20 attempts just from January alone. A small number until one considers there were 35 interceptions between 1980-1983. There have also been 4 actual breaches of US airspace this year. Again, a small number but prior to this year the Alaskan Air Defense Command recorded only 6 total breaches from 1961-1983.

“What’s on your mind, Kitten?” Dad said. “You seem lost in thought.”

Pete jumped. “Um, no? Just… I don’t know?” He giggled and shoveled the food into his mouth. Chewing, shrugging, like, can’t talk now?

Lexi slit her eyes, shaking her head.

When dinner ended, Pete started to head back to his room. Dad cleared his throat. “Where are you going?”

“Up to my room?” Pete said, confused.

“Not tonight,” Dad said.

He knows, Pete thought, feeling himself flush. He found out somehow, and I am in such big trouble! He felt so ashamed. His father hadn’t raised him to be that kind of girl— or any kind of girl. Confess, he decided. He just had to confess! Just as he was about to blurt out an apology for securing his teacher, Mom chimed in: “It’s game night!” She sang out. “You didn’t forget did you?”

Game night! Pete almost collapsed with relief. Of course. Wednesday was always game night! How could he have forgotten? “I did forget,” he said as memories of their family game night came over him, all the warm, fuzzy feelings.

“You know there are no game night skips,” Dad said.

Dad, Pete thought. As much as he could be distant, cold, he was always doing things to make sure they were a family, spending time together. He’d even kept it up after Pete had moved out of the house in his old life, always pushing for family get togethers, refusing to let them grow apart like so many families seemed to do these days.

It was Lexis’s turn to pick the game, and she went to the closet and dithered for a big before coming back with Trivial Pursuit. It had been so big back then, Pete remembered, smiling. “Good choice,” he said.

“You won’t be saying that after I beat you!” Lexi laughed.

They gathered around the kitchen table, put the pieces out, laughing and joking as they played. As usual, Dad grumbled and complained, all the while filling up his piece with wedges. Lexi was actually better than Pete expected, and he found himself in third place, struggling to get the answers. “I don’t know why I am having such a hard time tonight,” he said at one point.

“Because none of the questions are about Simon Le Bon,” Lexi said.

Pete stuck his tongue out at her, and they both giggled.

“So, what are you two thinking about college?” Dad said, rolling the dice. He always liked to sneak these more serious talks into their game nights. “You still thinking about that English degree, Kitten?”

English degree? Pete smiled at the thought. He had wanted to get an English degree at one point, but it hadn’t seemed practical or, honestly, manly. That wasn’t such a problem in this world. “I think so,” he said.

“More like an Mrs. Degree,” Lexi said.

“And how about you?” Dad said.

“Maybe a surgeon like you,” Lexi said, “or accounting like Mom.”

Suck up, Pete thought. “I just want to study something I’m really passionate about,” Pete said.

“So, boys?” Lexi said.

Pete kicked her under the table. “Like I don’t see you flirting with every pimply faced sophomore.”

Lexi kicked back. “They don’t all have pimples!”

The game ended with Dad winning, as he usually did, Lexi second, Pete and Mom tied for last.  He was not pleased and would have demanded a rematch, but his thoughts had turned to the mythology book, and his predicament, and he wanted to get upstairs and read. Saying his goodnights, he headed up to his room and grabbed the book. Laying on his belly, propped up on pillows, he hooked his legs at the ankles and flipped to the Index, looking for Daba.

There was a knock on the door. “Yeah?”

Lexi walked in. “Hey, sis,” she said.

“Hey,” Pete said.

“Can I borrow that cable knit sweater you have? The navy blue one?”

“Sure,” Pete said.

Lexi went to his closet and started digging through his clothes. “Is everything okay?” She asked.

“Um, yeah?” Pete said.

Lexi came back into the room, carrying the sweater, plus a denim skirt. She sat down on the bed and started to play with Pete’s hair. “I just worry,” she said. “You’ve been acting like a dork.”

Pete felt himself warming to Lexi. Having her play with his hair like that made him feel… fuzzy? She was all right for a kid sister, he decided. “I really am fine,” Pete said, not wanting her to worry. “Just, you know, a teen-ager.”

“Tell me about it,” Lexi said. “Well, if you ever need to talk…”

“I know,” Pete said. Lexi seemed different tonight. “What about you?” He asked.

“Me?”

“Why are you always so mean to me?”

“I don’t know,” Lexi said. “I guess I’m just jealous. You’re so pretty, and you get all the attention.”

Pete chuckled. “It’s mostly my boobs.”

“And you have bigger boobs. How unfair is that?”

“I didn’t ask for them,” Pete said, knowing Lexi wouldn’t get the irony. “Believe me.”

“I’m kind of hoping my are still growing, you know?” Lexi said. “Do you think I might? I mean, be as lucky as you?”

“Look at Mom,” Pete said, putting a hand on Lexi’s shoulder. “You have the genes. I’m sure.”

“I hope so,” Lexi said.

“My wish for you,” Pete said, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “Is that one day your boobs will be just as big as mine. Just don’t blame me when you keep finding crumbs in your cleavage.”

Lexi laughed. “Thanks,” she said, getting up and heading toward the door. “You’re still a slut, though.”

“I said you could borrow my sweater, not my skirt!” Pete said.

“Psyche!” Lexi said, hurrying out of the room.

Pete shook his head and went back to his book. He sipped some of his hair into his mouth and idly chewed on it as he looked up Daba. No reference. Hmmmmn. He started to page through the book, enjoying the feel of the glossy pages against his fingertips. Nothing… nothing… and then, there she was— the goddess with the horned crown, the wings. Inanna, the book said, a Sumerian goddess of sex. There was a picture of a statue there— huge breasts— and seeing the statue, Pete flashed back to a memory. He’d seen that statue before!