I was fucking baked.
I had a blond on my lap and a brunette under my right arm, our little party of three passing a joint around. They had the best bud at these parties, and I was coming away with more than one story tonight. I sat back and enjoyed it, one girl asking me if I wanted a drink while the other asked if I wanted to get out of there—with her friend. Both options sounded nice, but I had to take a leak.
I left them to make out with each other. Trying to find a fucking bathroom in this place was hard with all the weed smoke that filled it. I eventually found th
e bathroom line but wasn’t trying to deal with that.
I ended up using a plant.
Not one of my finer displays, but I wasn’t going to go outside like some barbarian. I did my business, then started to go back to the girls, but some sighing took more of my interest.
Heavy pants and excited moans from nearby shot my cock up, and I wondered if it was a female party that needed a third. Ares and I had lost our virginities together, but not together. We’d been in the same house, different rooms screwing separate chicks.
I was wasted enough where participating in my first orgy didn’t sound like a particularly bad idea. And if there were dudes, I didn’t care, as long as they kept their hands (and parts) to themselves. I was a pussy killer only, but had no problem having other guys around. One of my best friends, Wells, was bi. Wasn’t a thing.
I edged a look through the plant (not the one I’d pissed in) and spotted a couple on the other side.
A guy and a girl were there, and he had her pinned against the wall, luscious red hair gripped in his fist.
He jerked his conquest back by it, laughing as he forced kisses into her neck. His head was bowed so I couldn’t see his face, and the girl had so much hair I wasn’t seeing hers.
That was until he grabbed her neck.
A mouth smeared with red lipstick angled in my direction, a familiar face I had to take a double look at. I’d seen this girl, this woman before.
And this guy.
He’d let his hair grow out over the summer, but there was no mistaking the familiarity. The guy had the same face as my mother.
Because he was her brother.
My uncle Charlie was making out with the headmaster of our school, Principal Mayberry, and I was standing there high as hell thinking I was making that shit up. This wasn’t possible. Charlie was a senior at my school. He was eighteen, but a student nonetheless.
“Make me come, baby,” Principal Mayberry panted. My jaw dropped to the floor, as she reached behind Charlie and grabbed his ass. He shot his dick back into her from behind, nothing but their clothes keeping them apart.
Chuckling, Charlie kept her mouth away by the tight hold he had on her hair.
“So greedy,” he growled into our principal’s neck. He tongued and bit it so hard she cried out, and I wasn’t imaging this shit. This was happening. My uncle was having an affair with my high school principal.
My married high school principal.
The woman’s husband literally coached our football team, a team Charlie himself was on. He played too with Ares, Wells, Thatcher, and me.
I started to back away, not knowing what else to do, but then heard my name and stiffened.
“Where the fuck did his ass go?” I heard Ares call from somewhere, called too close from somewhere. He grunted. “He knows we gotta be back at a decent hour. It’s a two-fucking-hour drive just to get back to town.”
“Right. Dad’s already blowing up my phone wondering where I’m at,” Thatcher said, the voices even closer.
The shuffling in front of me stopped.
“Someone’s coming,” mumbled Principal Mayberry, freezing. The woman stiffened against the wall Charlie had her pinned to, but he kept her there. He didn’t want her to move.
I supposed because he spotted me.
He stared at me, right in the eyes in that very moment, and the horror within his couldn’t be denied. He’d been caught.
And I’d been the one to find him.