by Croft, Rose
“I’m going to kill your brother.” My fists were balled because I was so pissed hoping my dress wasn’t ruined.
“I’ll go fuck him up for you,” John offered already pulling off his t-shirt and taking off his shoes and socks before swimming after his brother who was already mauling Loren by the side of the pool.
He wrapped an arm around Andrew’s neck jerking him back. “Sorry Loren, but I need to speak to my brother for a minute,” he said while dunking him underwater. Then, Andrew came up and returned the favor. This went on for about ten minutes. Loren swam over to where I was as we watched the brothers go at it like two Orcas splashing water everywhere. I thought one of them might drown as rough as they were playing.
“Have they always been like this?” I questioned astonished as I went over to the step and sat, pulling off my sandals and tossing them on the stone surrounding the pool.
“Pretty much.” Loren was grinning watching them with arms crossed over her chest. I was surprised she wasn’t annoyed.
“Don’t you think they need to stop before someone gets hurt?” Or you know…drowns?
“They’re fine.”
Soon, the pool wrestling turned into splashing each other, and finally they both swam over to us in the shallow end. John was staring down at my chest as he approached. You could definitely see nippage through the dress. “You okay?” He pulled me off the step to stand in front of him. The bottom of my dress kept floating up, so I had to hold it down with my hands.
John’s hair was slicked back and water was dripping off us his face and chiseled body. He looked freaking hot, like Acqua di Gio-cologne-model-on-the-beach hot. I let go of my dress to run my hands over his chest.
He slid his hands around my waist and lifted me against him with my legs wrapped around him. I could feel his erection as he basically bounced me on it. He leaned in and nuzzled my neck. “God, I need to be inside you again,” he groaned as he moved his hands over my butt. His lips trailed up my neck and finally covered my mouth.
As soon as it began, it was over because Rachel came out. “Thought I’d bring some appetizers out…” She paused; probably seeing the all couples make-out session in the pool, and set down a few plates and quickly retreated back inside.
I pulled back from John remembering where we were. “Okay, we need to get out.”
“Why? No we don’t.”
“Your mom is clearly embarrassed by our level of public affection.”
“So? We’re adults. Look at my brother and Loren. They’re practically fucking, again.” He acted as though his crude logic made sense, pointing in their direction. And, it kind of did as they were deep into kissing and groping at the other end of the pool.
“Just because they have no shame, doesn’t mean it’s okay for me to act like that.” I looked down at myself. “I need a towel, and I hope this dress isn’t ruined.”
As I was about to turn and trudge up the steps, John stopped me and pulled me back until the water was almost up to my neck. “Hey, Rose. Why don’t you wait here, and I’ll get a towel.”
“I need to dry off a little first. This dress is soaked.”
“Yeah, I know, and it’s very see-through right now, too.” He stared at my boobs through the water again like Superman using x-ray vision. I looked down and realized that my outfit was very transparent.
I was now mortified. I may act brazen when John and I are alone, but I certainly did not try to exhibit this type of behavior in front of other people, especially his parents. Dammit, sometimes John made me forget where I was, and how I should act. I crossed my arms over my chest and frowned.
“I’ll get us some towels,” he said almost appearing apologetic. He stepped out and went over and opened the back door calling for his mom to bring towels. He asked her politely.
A few minutes later, she popped out with towels. I saw her whispering to John, probably wondering why we were in the pool in clothing. Hopefully, she wasn’t chastising him for us acting like randy teenagers. Who used the word randy? Okay, I am an English teacher.
John was pointing to Andrew and pleading his case. Rachel narrowed her eyes at Andrew with her hands on her hips apparently upset he was picking on her youngest son.
Andrew caught her glare and said in his defense, “Aw, come on, Mom, I was just goofing around. John was about to toss Rose in the pool anyway.”
“No I wasn’t,” he argued. “Unlike you, I’m a nice person. Right Mom?”
“Yeah, that’s right, go tell Mommy. What are you, five years old?” Andrew taunted.
“You’re an asshole, Andrew.” John looked perturbed and started stalking towards the other end of the pool. Were they really going at it again?
“Language, John,” his mom warned. “Andrew, quit teasing your brother like that.”
This was bordering on ludicrous. Two grown ass men arguing over something trivial with their mom treating them like they were still little boys. Of course, they were acting like little boys.
John came back my way and grabbed a towel spreading it wide.
“I have some clothing you can borrow if you would like me to wash and dry your dress, sweetie,” Rachel offered while I clutched the towel around me.
“Sure, that would be great.” I waved my hand in front of me. “Sorry about this.”
Rachel smiled understandably. “Don’t worry about it. Y’all were having fun. I’m just happy my sons are here having a good time. Nobody ever uses the pool unless the boys are here. Right, baby?” She cupped John’s face tweaking him like he was a five-year-old.
“Yes.” He ducked his head, and his face looked a little red.
Then, she smoothed his hair back and patted his cheek again. She turned to offer Loren clothes, too, before she went back inside.
“You truly are mama’s little boy,” I teased.
“Do I need to chuck you back in the pool, Rose?” he warned, but pulled me in to give a hug instead.
I was in heaven. Well, food heaven eating this brisket. It ranked up there as my number one. If I could finish this day off having sex in my bedroom with Rose that would truly round out the heavenly experience.
She looked hot wearing an old baseball t-shirt with my name and number on the back and running shorts. I knew she was braless and commando underneath. Oh, the things I’d like to do right now...
“Baby, do you want me to make you another plate?” Mom laid her hand on my shoulder and Rose coughed into her napkin. I knew she thought it was funny how my mom doted on me.
“Uh, no that’s okay, Mom. I can do it.” I stood up. “Rose, can I get you anything?”
“No. I’m so full. This was sooo good.”
“Well, I hope you saved room for dessert. I made peach cobbler.” That was my mom’s specialty.
I went in for seconds on the brisket and potato salad. Andrew walked over too, fighting me for the end piece. That was our favorite. Our battle almost ended with someone being stabbed with a knife, but I gave in since I had already eaten the other end.
As we both stacked up our plate again and sat down, Rose commented to my mother, “Your grocery bill must’ve been astronomical feeding everyone.” Between my dad, Andrew, and I we had almost polished off a huge slab of meat.
“Yes, my boys can eat.” Mom beamed, apparently proud we conducted ourselves like pigs.
I was scarfing down my food like no tomorrow when I eyed Rose, staring at me slack-jawed. I slowed down. “I really like this.”
“I can tell.”
“When are you going back to Chicago?” My dad asked.
“Day after tomorrow. We start a series with Oakland on Tuesday night.”
“You think you can take that series? You fell behind a game after losing this afternoon to Cleveland.” That was Dad’s subtle way of reminding me my foolish decision might have cost my team some ground in the standings.
“I hope so.” I didn’t want to discuss baseball right now in front of everyone. My dad was always like this—always questio
ning me about the game. It had been like that since I was a kid.
“Let’s hope your team can get a couple of wins tomorrow and Monday, so you don’t fall further behind.” Dad leaned in to take another bite and paused. “Oh, by the way, I noticed the other night your stance seemed a little off like you were putting too much weight on your back foot.”
And, this was what I didn’t want to happen. This was unbelievable. Coaches, the best coaches in baseball who knew what the hell they were doing, surrounded me; however, my dad thought he was an expert on how I played. Why? Because he coached me in little league?
“Okay. I’ll make a note of that. Thanks.”
“Oh, and…” He began again. I smashed my lips together to keep from telling him to shut up.
“Dad, can we have this conversation another time?” Andrew intervened, knowing I was uncomfortable. My brother could be a real ass sometimes, but he always had my back. He knew better than anyone how obsessive our father was over baseball.
“I’m just looking out for John’s best interest. If I can help him better his game, then I don’t see the problem.”
“I’m sure his coaches can help him out,” Andrew rebutted. It was always like this. Andrew and my dad constantly butted heads.
“If they were helping him, then he wouldn’t be doing that.” Dad looked around waiting for everyone to confirm his statement. Then, he turned to me. “Your timing seemed a little off, too. You had several delayed swings. If you worked on those things during batting practice, you probably would’ve had more hits.”
“Excuse me.” I had to walk away before I said something I’d regret. I heard my mom offering dessert to everyone and telling my dad to relax on the baseball talk as I mounted the stairs to my room.
I sat down on the edge of my bed absently gazing at the walls. My eyes went to the shelf of trophies I had collected playing select baseball, and later high school and college ball. I thought about all the hard work I’d put in and how my parents had always been there along the way. My mom was more of my personal cheerleader, but my dad—no matter how great of a game I thought I might have played always had a critique on how I could’ve done better.
Sometimes it was damaging to my psyche because I just wanted to hear he was proud of me. When I looked at the scenario in a detached manner, I would try to justify he was in his own way. Obviously, I was doing all right since making it into the majors was not an easy feat. And although I was an adult making more money than I would ever need in my lifetime, I still felt like that little boy who wanted his father’s approval.
I heard a knock on my door. “Yeah?”
Rose popped her head in. “You okay? Your mom wanted me to bring you dessert.”
I smiled and nodded. “Come here.”
She closed the door and walked towards me. “Your dad’s a little intense, huh?”
“He’s always been like that.” I took the plate and set it on my nightstand.
“I by no means am a baseball expert, but I do know you have one of the best batting averages in the league. I watched the game, and you had several hits on base helping your team win.” Her newfound knowledge of baseball truly amazed me. Her encouraging words were so sweet, and my heart definitely took notice.
I touched her cheek. “You’re so sweet, Rose. Are you real?”
She covered my hand with hers. “I just want to make you feel better, and I’m sure your dad means well.”
“I know he does, but…” I paused, not wanting to sound like a big pussy.
“But what?” She urged, placing a kiss on the palm of my hand bringing it down in front of her between both her hands, caressing it.
“I wish for once, he would tell me I played a good game. Or at least be satisfied with how I played.”
“He’s never complimented you on your play?”
“No. Never. No matter how great of a game I played.” I forced a laugh because I was embarrassed showing this type of vulnerability. “I sound like a fucking baby.”
“No you don’t.”
“Yes, I do. I make a lot of money. Part of the reason I was successful was because of my parent’s support.”
“Yeah, maybe, but you also worked very hard to get where you’re at, and everyone needs positive reinforcement sometimes…especially from their parents.” She placed her hands on my shoulders. “You sound like a normal human being.”
I wrapped my hands around her hips. “Thank you Rose for making me feel better.”
“Do you want your dessert?” She asked reaching for the plate.
“Oh, wait, you were talking about the cobbler,” I teased. Kind of.
She handed me the plate, and I pulled her down on my leg. “Here. Share it with me.”
I spooned off a piece and gave it to her. She ate it and did her foodporn moan again, like she did earlier. And, I almost forgot about the cobbler. However, I took a bite and was making animalistic sounds, too. God, my mom could cook.
“Your parents can cook some food.”
“Yeah, they can.”
When we finished, I set the plate aside and said staring at her mouth, “You’ve got something on your mouth.”
“Where?” She darted her tongue around her lips.
“Right here,” I said giving an excuse to place my mouth on hers. As usual the kissing got hot and heavy quick, and I placed a hand under her tee, cupping one breast. I loved her boobs, and she usually got very motivated when I touched them.
Not proving my theory wrong, she vocally sighed in her sexy way as I rolled her nipple between my thumb and finger. I made sure to give each one equal time and then began lifting the shirt off.
However, there was a knock on the door. “Rose I brought your clothes up. They’re dry,” my mom called out behind the door.
Rose jumped up shoving her shirt down and went to the door. “Thank you so much.” Her face was red and her nipples tented the shirt she had on with the tit erection she was sporting.
My mom peered in. “You okay?”
“Yes, Mom thanks. The cobbler was delicious.”
“Great. I’ll leave you two alone.”
“Okay. We’ll be down in a minute.” I stood up and closed and locked the door.
“Your mom is really sweet.”
“Yeah, she is. You know what I always fantasized about?” I took the clothing from her, setting it aside.
“I could take a guess, but I won’t,” she answered apprehensively. I’m sure she thought I wanted to do something that involved her tits and my dick. And, that’s up there, but not why I asked the question. I knew she didn’t like the word tits, but I could say it in my thoughts. Couldn’t I?
“I always wanted to have sex in this bedroom.”
She stared at me wide-eyed with her mouth opened. “You mean you never brought a girl up here? I thought this was where ‘the magic’ happened?”
“No, the only magic that happened was with my hand and a bottle of lotion.”
She scrunched her nose. “Thanks for the disgusting visual.”
I laughed. “Don’t act like you’ve never spent some alone time in your room, Rose.” She blushed and slapped me on the arm. I feigned a wince. “Anyway, I was too afraid of getting caught. My mom was very protective of me and nosy.”
She tilted her head pondering my words. “Yeah, I could definitely see that,” she agreed.
“So…it would really make me feel better.”
“You’re really pulling the sympathy card now, aren’t you?” She asked in a semi-serious tone and gripped the hem of the shirt she was wearing. She bit her lip and glanced down at the floor. “But, your parents are downstairs. What if we get caught?” She was fighting a smile in jest.
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.” I helped her take off the tee. “If I get grounded, so be it.” I tweaked her nipples. “Anyway, my mom had to be blind to not notice how horny you were for me. Your cupcakes looked like they had sparklers in them the way your nips were pointed at her.”
&n
bsp; I leaned in to kiss her and she took a step back, with jaw dropped. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
It finally registered what my dumbass self said. Christ, why couldn’t my fucking brain censor words before they came out of my mouth? Nipples pointed at my mother? Who said something stupid like that? “I didn’t mean it like that. What I’m trying to say is I’m pretty sure my parents don’t think we’re up here playing Twister.”
Rose stepped back into the circle of John. “Now that you mention Twister…”
I chuckled moving in, too. “You wanna play Twister? Fine.” I yanked her shorts down. “Right hand on waxed pussy, Rose.”
Her pale cheeks heightened in color. Why was she embarrassed? It’s not like we didn’t participate in the Fuck-O-lympics last night. “What?” She laughed with her right hand sliding over her thin stomach.
My mouth hovered over hers. “You play first…play with yourself.” I attacked her lips. She moaned. I slid my hand over hers guiding it down to her clit. She moaned louder with the words “I can’t do this.”
“Why?” I pressed my fingers into hers moving our hands lower.
She bucked into me. “I don’t…don’t…”
“You don’t what, baby?”
“I don’t mast…mast-ur-bate…in front of people.”
“I’m glad you don’t mast-ur-bate in front of people. I just want you to do it for me only. Do you need me to set up my jerk station for you? Would that help?”
She nibbled on my lip. “Stop making fun of me!” Her voice was still huffing and puffing as our hands together played her body like a Fender Stratocaster. I slid a few of our fingers inside her and pumped. She rode our hands shimmying up and down until I felt her body tense. “JOOOHHHNN!” She cried into my mouth. Oh she could do this. I would definitely give her an A plus for giving it her all.
Her wetness coated both sets of fingers. I brought both hands to my mouth and sucked. Not one drop was left behind. “Yep. Magically delicious.”
She smirked and pulled her hand away. Soon her fingers were hooked into the waistband of my shorts, pushing them down. I kicked out of them when they were down around my legs. I was commando underneath because my mom had washed my underwear with Rose’s things.