index


Message-ID: <57966asstr$1217070604@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Eric Storm <storm@wolfpub.org>
User-Agent: Thunderbird 2.0.0.14 (Windows/20080421)
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Subject: {ASSM} Warmth of a Touch, by Eric Storm (formerly Net Wolf) [3 / 15] (first, inc, mc, rom, teen, etc...)
Lines: 1187
Date: Sat, 26 Jul 2008 07:10:04 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

This story is posted under the following headers, depending on newsgroup:
[ASSM] Warmth of a Touch, by Eric Storm (formerly Net Wolf) [3 / 15] 
(first, inc, mc, rom, teen, etc...)
[STORY] Warmth of a Touch, by Eric Storm (formerly Net Wolf) [3 / 15] 
(first, inc, mc, rom, teen, etc...)


********** STORY INFORMATION **********

Warmth of a Touch
by Eric Storm (formerly known as Net Wolf)
(C)2005 by Eric Storm

Chapter 3 of 15

Genres: Drama, Science Fiction
Code(s) Used: ds, first, inc, mc, reluc, rom, sm, teen, viol
Pairings Used: 3+, MF, fF, fM

Martin Gallagher, college student and quiet teen, suddenly
discovers the family secret. He has been given this new power
to attract women with little more than a touch, but it makes
him uncomfortable. What makes it worse is what he's told he's
supposed to do with it. Will he manage to adjust and accept it?

***************************************

This story will be posted in its entirety, one chapter a day. 
If you do not wish to wait, or you want to read my other stories,
you may go to my website at http://storm.wolfpub.org .  If you
wish to read the other authors at The Mystic Wolf Pub, the base
address is http://www.wolfpub.org .  I hope you enjoy the story.

************** THE STORY **************

 
                 --===Warmth of a Touch, Chapter 3===--
 
Chapter 3
 
 
 
    Martin felt proud of himself as he boarded the airplane for
home.  He had managed to avoid having sex with Monica, as badly as she
obviously wanted it.  *And what's with the Master thing again?  Do I
have this effect on women, or are the only girls who have an interest
in me all weirdoes who want to be dominated?  Well, at least it's
over.*  He forgot, for the moment, that he would be spending time with
Monica again on his way back to school.
 
    The flight into Tampa was uneventful.  It was Martin's
fourth such flight, and the scenery was all old hat now.  He saw his
parents waiting for him at the terminal.  It was much too early for his
sister to be there, as she still had a week of school left before her
break began.  The ride home amounted to catching up on things and
hearing about how everyone was doing.
 
    "Your sister's been missing you like crazy, Marty," his
mother said.  "She's gonna be real happy to see you."
 
    "How's the Small Fry doing in school this year?"  Martin
had always called his sister Small Fry, and she loved it, though she
pretended to be annoyed by it.
 
    "Her grades are just great, but I gather she's not getting
along with some of the kids."
 
    "Oh?  I guess I'll have to talk to her about that.  She's
gonna be in high school next year, and she doesn't want to be an
outcast there."
 
    The three of them moved on to other topics.  By the time
they got home, everyone was in a good mood.  Martin pulled out his
report card and presented it to them.  After hearing his warnings
throughout the semester, the grades on this report card came as quite a
pleasant surprise.  Martin was in the midst of explaining what had
happened, while leaving out the better parts, when the phone rang.
 
    Martin's father answered it, and with his second sentence
the family stopped cold.
 
    "Yes, officer, she's my daughter...  Where?... Yes, I know
where it is... Can you tell me what happened?... I see.  We'll be right
down."  He hung up and turned to the family.  "Becca is in the
hospital.  We've got to go down there."  The family rushed to get back
in the car.  His father explained on the way.
 
    "According to the officer, she was attacked by some school
kids.  There are 'no witnesses', and apparently Becca passed out, and
can't remember who did it."  Nothing else was said until they got to
the hospital.
 
    Entering the emergency room, they were directed down a
hallway.  The hospital in Clearwater, their hometown, was small, and
they quickly found the doctor they were looking for.  He asked that
they not all go in at once, and so Martin sat down in the waiting room,
both terrified that his sister was seriously injured, and furious that
anyone would dare to harm her.
 
    Five minutes later, he looked up to find his parents
entering the waiting room.  "She asked for you," said her father.
"Son, you should know that the doc said she's going to be fine, but she
looks pretty bad.  There's nothing seriously wrong with her, but they
want to keep her overnight just to make sure they didn't miss anything."
 
    Martin trudged down the hall, not sure what he could say to
his little sister to cheer her up while she was lying in a hospital bed
in pain.  He stopped at the doorway to her room, and took a deep
breath, steeling himself for what was to come.  He walked over to her
bedside, and sat down in the chair there.  He took her hand in his.  It
seemed so incredibly small to him right then.  Looking at her, she
looked frail and helpless.  There was blood matted in her short auburn
hair, and her one eye was swollen shut.  Her other eye was blackened,
and he could see the pain there as her usually pretty green eyes
watered.  Her nose had been bloodied, and her lip was split.  He could
tell without looking that the rest of her body had been similarly
abused.  Martin's rage was barely controllable as he sat there looking
at what some *sonofabitch* had done to his sister.
 
    Feeling his hand, she looked over at him, and brightened.
"Marty!" she cried, and tried to sit up.  He could tell the effort was
painful, and he stopped her.  He stood up and hugged her into his arms
gently.  "I'm so glad you're here," she sobbed.  She cried for quite a
while in his arms, while he held her, rocking her softly back and
forth.  After a few minutes, she began to settle, and Martin helped her
to sit back.  He raised the head of the bed slightly so she was more
comfortable before he sat back in his chair.
 
    "I missed you, too, Small Fry.  How are you?"
 
    "Oh, you know, can't complain..." Her attempt at humor was
pretty lame, but Becca always tried to put a good spin on things.
 
    "Becca, it's *me*, remember?  How are you really doing?"
 
    "It hurts, Marty.  And I can't remember a damned thing!
Why can't I remember?!"  She almost began crying again.  Martin grabbed
her hand to steady her, and for encouragement.
 
    "What's the matter, sis?  You forgotten all your television
already?  You got whacked in the head a couple of times at least, and
what you went through..."  Martin couldn't finish that statement.
"Well, your brain just isn't ready for you to relive that yet.  Don't
worry, you'll remember when you're ready."  She beamed at him in
gratitude.  "Just one thing, little sis."
 
    "Yeah, Marty?"
 
    "When you finally remember who did this, you tell me first,
okay?"
 
    Becca could read the meaning of that from his expression.
"Okay, Marty.  I promise."  She laid her head back, and her eyes closed
to rest.  Martin got up, kissed her gently on the forehead, and left
the room quietly.  He found his parents talking with the doctor.
 
    "How's she doing, Marty?" his mom asked.
 
    "You might want to up her pain medication, doc," Marty said
in answer.
 
    "Oh?  She said she was fine."
 
    "That's Becca for you," Mr. Gallagher explained.  "Never
wants to complain.  What did she tell you, Marty?"
 
    "Just that it still hurts.  And that she wants to remember,
but can't."  Martin's tone of voice said what he thought of the people
who would do such a thing to a thirteen-year-old girl.
 
    "We'll find 'em, Marty.  We'll find 'em."
 
    "I'm okay, Dad.  I'll be outside."  *To hell with that,* he
thought as he walked out the door.  I'll *find 'em.*
 
 
 
...---=== http://ericstorm.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
 
 
*    *Martin's anger had time to subside overnight, and he
spent the next morning preparing for his sister's return home.  Just
after lunch, he heard the car pull in the driveway, and his parents got
out of the car.  Becca waited for her dad to help her out, and then
Martin realized why.  Though it had not been visible in the hospital,
Becca was walking with a severe limp on one leg.  Her father helped her
to the door, where Martin was waiting.  She released herself from her
father's helpful grasp, took a step, and nearly fell into Martin's
arms.  He hugged his sister as he supported her, but he looked to his
father for an explanation.
 
    "The doctor says it's just a sprain.  It should go away in
a few days, but he said she needs to stay off of it."
 
    Putting most of her weight on Martin, she asked her dad,
"What about school?  I have exams this week!"
 
    "Don't worry about that, we'll work it out with the
school.  Maybe you can make them up after break."
 
    Martin could tell that Becca was using up all the energy
she had just standing there.  "Come on, Small Fry.  Let's get you to
your room."
 
    The Gallagher home was a small but comfortable house of
cinder block construction, typical to this area of Florida.  It didn't
take long for Martin to get Becca to her room.  Immediately she noticed
that the room had been cleaned and straightened.  Once he had helped
her to the bed, she realized there was a TV on her dresser.  She looked
at Martin in awe.
 
    "You did all this for me, Marty?"
 
    "Sure.  Since you can't really go anywhere for a few days,
I figured you might as well be comfortable."
 
    Tears welled up in Becca's eyes.  She wrapped her arms
around her brother and gave him a ferocious hug, which made her ribs
ache, but she didn't care.
 
    For Martin's part, he was content to have made his sister
happy.  It took only a few moments before he realized that, though
Becca was touching his bare skin, he felt no warmth going into her.
Thinking back, he realized that his mother had also, thankfully, been
unaffected.  *I wonder if it doesn't work on family members?  That's
not really a bad thing, is it?*  Martin smiled to himself as he helped
his sister sit back on her bed, piling up pillows so that she would be
comfortable.  Just then, their mother came in.
 
    Before she could say anything, Becca pointed at Martin's TV
and said, "Mom, look what Marty did!"  Seeing the TV, their mother
flashed a warm smile at Marty.  She turned back to Becca.
 
    "Well, he watches too much TV, anyway," she said jokingly.
"I know that hospital food you had last night was terrible.  What would
you like to have tonight?"
 
    "Pizza?" asked Becca hopefully.  They didn't have pizza
often enough for her tastes.  Of course, she wanted it every night.
 
    "Pizza it is.  We can rent some videos and make a party out
of it."
 
    "Sounds great," Becca replied, stifling a yawn.  Martin
took the hint.
 
    "Why don't you get some rest, Becca?  I'll be around if you
need anything."
 
    "'kay, Marty.  Thanks," she said sleepily.  She snuggled
down into the pillows and closed her eyes.  The other two left the room
quietly.
 
    "That was a nice thing you did for her, Marty," his mother
said as they walked to the kitchen.
 
    Martin waved it off.  "I can do without it for a few days.
She's gonna need the distraction.  If I ever find out who did this..."
Martin broke off his statement as his anger once again rose to the
surface.  His mother agreed, but she had no way to do anything.
 
    Martin's father came in and asked, "Is she all settled in?"
 
    "Taking a nap," Martin answered.  "So, what are you really
going to do about her finals?  She can't make them up after the break."
 
    "Why not?" his father asked.
 
    "Because grades are finalized over the break.  If she
misses them, I don't know what the school will do, but she can't make
them up then."
 
    "Okay.  I guess we'll have to go up to the school and talk
to her principal tomorrow.  My parents are coming down to visit for a
few days, until Becca recovers.  She still can't remember who did it?"
 
    Mr. Gallagher had hit Martin's sore spot.  "I didn't ask.
She'll tell me if she does."  *And when she does,* he didn't add, *the
guy had better be in Sheboygan, or I'm gonna rip his fucking head off
and piss down his throat.*
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    The family was having its first cheerful moments since
Martin's return home.  He'd helped Becca into the living room, and sat
beside her on the couch as they ate pizza and watched what he thought
was a hilariously funny movie.  He did not remember that it was the
same movie he'd seen just before leaving Albuquerque.
 
    Everyone was in high spirits when the doorbell rang.  Mr.
Gallagher rose to answer the door, thinking his parents had arrived.
When Martin looked out the window and saw a police car in the driveway,
he knew something was wrong.
 
    "Are you Trenton Gallagher?" asked the police officer.
 
    "Yes," responded Martin's father.
 
    "Are your parents Jason and Caroline Gallagher?" the
officer continued.
 
    *Uh-oh.  What's happened to them?* thought Martin.
 
    "Yes," said Trenton.  He had a horrible suspicion what came
next.
 
    "Sir, we have a report from the Hernando County sheriff
that your parents have had an accident.  Apparently, they blew a tire
and lost control of the car.  It slid sideways into oncoming traffic.
They...  I'm sorry, sir.  They didn't survive the accident."
 
    *Grandma and Grandpa dead?  No!*  Martin thought.  He knew,
though, that as bad as he felt about it, Becca would feel worse.  He
reached over and embraced her.  She turned and buried her face in his
shoulder, weeping quietly.  His mother was staring blankly,
open-mouthed, her eyes unseeing.
 
    Martin heard nothing as the officer continued to talk with
his father.  He focused his attention on Becca, sobbing in his arms.
The movie played madly on until his mother finally had the wit to turn
it off.  Martin wondered at his seeming lack of feeling about the death
of his grandparents.  He had lost his other set of grandparents,
separately, long before he was old enough to remember them.  Yet he
didn't seem to feel anything at all.  He did feel sorry for Becca.  She
would be blaming herself already.
 
    After some moments, Martin helped Becca back to her room.
He helped her to bed, and then sat beside her.  "Are you okay?" he
asked her.
 
    "It's my fault.  They wouldn't have been coming down here
if I hadn't gotten hurt!" she sobbed.
 
    "Shhh," Martin tried to soothe her.  "You didn't 'get
hurt', Becca, you were beaten up.  You didn't have any control over
that.  If Grandma and Grandpa's death is anyone's fault, it's those
guys who beat you up."  *The motherfucking cowards.*  "You still can't
remember them, can you."  It wasn't a question.  She just shook her
head.  "Well, it's not important now.  But, remember Becca, this was
*not your fault.*"  She smiled wanly up at him, and gave him a hug.
They sat for a little while, just being together, before she dozed off
again.  Martin adjusted the pillows around her, so she would be
comfortable.  Then he turned off her light and left, going to his own
room, where he flopped down onto his bed and stared at the ceiling,
wondering, *What else can go wrong?*
 
 
 
...---=== http://ericstorm.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
 
 
    Because his parents had so much to do the next day, Martin
was tasked with going to his sister's school and talking with the
principal.  His past came rushing back at him as he entered the
two-story brick building.  He'd spent three years at Clearwater Junior
High School, and had fond memories of the place.  He walked down the
brightly painted halls to the main office, where he sat down and waited
for the secretary to be free.
 
    When Mrs. Rand, the secretary, looked up from her phone
call, her eyes brightened.  "Martin!  How good to see you again!  What
brings you back here?"
 
    "I have to speak to Mr. Cairne.  It's about my sister."
 
    Mrs. Rand's face sobered.  "I heard about that.  How is she
doing?"
 
    "Okay, I guess.  But we've had a lot of bad luck in the
last couple of days."
 
    "Well, why don't you just have a seat.  Mr. Cairne will be
free in a couple of minutes."
 
    Martin thanked her and returned to his chair to wait.  The
office was just as he'd remembered it.  It was a somewhat small office
for such a large school, but it seemed to get the job done.  Not a
single student entered as Martin sat waiting for the principal.
 
    After several minutes, the door to the principal's office
opened, and Mr. Cairne stepped out.  A tall, imposing man, Victor
Cairne had the chiseled features and stern expression that one would
expect of a junior high principal.  His black hair was beginning to
gray at the temples, and his short, severe haircut emphasized his
angular features.  He did, however, smile politely on seeing Martin.
He walked over to shake hands.
 
    "Martin!  Well, it's been quite a while since we've seen
you here.  I guess you're here about Rebecca, correct?"
 
    "Yes sir."
 
    "Well, come on into my office, and let's chat."
 
    After they'd entered the office and both were seated, Mr.
Cairne began, "How is Rebecca doing?  I was the one who found her and
called the ambulance."
 
    "Becca's okay, physically.  But we've had some real bad
luck this week.  Our grandparents were killed in a car crash yesterday,
and so Becca's not in the best of spirits."
 
    "I'm sorry to hear that, Martin.  It never seems to rain
but it pours."
 
    "Yes, sir.  Well, the real issue, though, is Becca's
grades.  There's no way she's going to make it here for her exams on
Friday.  Is there anything we can do about that?"
 
    Mr. Cairne paused for a moment, and considered.  Finally,
he said, "That is a tough one, Martin.  As you know, grades are
calculated over the break, so she can't make them up when she gets
back."
 
    "Yes sir, I was aware of that.  I told my parents the same
thing.  But, what can we do?  I mean, it's not fair to Becca to give
her zeros on those tests when she has a legitimate excuse, is it?"
 
    "Well, no, it's not, but I don't really see what we can do
about it.  I'm sorry, but the school policy on this is pretty rigid.
Unless she can find a way to be here on Friday, I'm afraid that she
will be getting some poor grades for the semester.  But really, she's
only in eighth grade, so no one will ever see these grades.  It's no
big deal."
 
    "Not to you, sir, but it is to her.  I was hoping I would
be able to bring her some good news for a change."
 
    "I can sympathize, Martin, really, but I just don't see
that I have anything that I can do."
 
    "Well, sir, could you at least give me a list of her
teachers, so that I can speak with them individually, and see if I
can't make some arrangements with them?"
 
    "I can do that, but I don't see how it will help.  They'll
tell you the same thing I just have."
 
    "I'd appreciate it anyway, sir.  By the way, when do the
teachers actually have to have their grades in?"
 
    "The Thursday before school starts back in January.  I
know, it seems strange, but that's how it's done."
 
    "Okay.  Thank you, sir.  I appreciate you taking the time
to see me."
 
    "Not a problem, Martin.  And give your sister my regards.
I hope she gets to feeling better. You can get a list of her teachers
from Mrs. Rand."  Mr. Cairne shook Martin's hand as he left the office.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    Though Martin had hoped otherwise, he hadn't gotten a
different response from any of Becca's teachers.  They had all sent
their best wishes, but no solutions.  He had managed to get all of
their telephone numbers, just in case he came up with something, but he
left the school building in a very dejected mood.  He was looking at
his feet as he walked, which was why he didn't notice the three guys
leaning against his car until he was just a few yards away.
 
    When he did look up and see the three guys standing there,
his demeanor brightened.  "Hey, guys!  You taking to hanging around the
junior high now?"
 
    Jake Morrison, Tom Nelson and Bobby Swale had all been
Martin's close friends in high school.  Though he had chosen to go off
to college, the others had decided to stay in town.  Jake was attending
the local junior college, Tom was working as a stocker for Wal-Mart,
and Bobby was shift-manager for a local theater.  The four of them had
always hung together, helped each other with school work, finding
dates, etc.  It was a bright spot in Martin's day to see them.
 
    Jake said, "Becca told us where you'd gone.  Shitty week,
man."  The others nodded in agreement.
 
    "I hear you.  And it ain't getting any better."  He
explained about the exams.
 
    "Shit.  Never knew anyone who'd be upset about missing a
test.  So, how is Becca, anyway?  I mean, she sounded a little bugged
on the phone."
 
    "Well, with this whole mess, and then our grandparents...
It's just been a shitty week for her, ya know?  She tried to blame
herself for our grandparents getting killed.  I think that's still
eating at her."
 
    After a little more chatting, Bobby finally brought up the
issue that was bothering them all.  "You find out who beat up Becca
yet?"
 
    Martin's face clouded with anger.  "No.  And they'd better
hope I don't."
 
    "You need any help man, you give us a call, okay?"
 
    "You got it, Tom.  Thanks, guys."
 
    The three got into Jake's car and left, and Martin headed
for home, feeling a little better that he had some support.  But
waiting for him at home was his little sister, who needed his support,
and he'd not been able to do very much on this day.
 
    *Shit.*
 
 
 
...---=== http://ericstorm.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
 
 
    The funeral was arranged quickly, and it was set for
Thursday.  It was a warm day, even for Florida.  Martin was amazed by
the number of people who had come down from as far as Georgia to be at
the funeral.  *They had a lot of friends*, he thought, trying to
remember that it was not only his loss, but that many people were
hurting.
 
    One of those people was his little sister.  She stood
beside him, holding his hand and weeping openly.  He kept his face
neutral, but inwardly he wanted to wail for all of the frustration he
felt.
 
    The pastor droned on and on at the graveside, talking about
his grandparents, how they had been "good Christian people".  Though
Martin didn't know one way or the other about his grandparents, he knew
for certain the pastor didn't have a clue about his grandparents'
beliefs.  *Moron**.*  He ignored the rest of the pastor's oration,
instead looking around him.  His parents wept openly, clearly stricken
by the event.  Martin wondered why he did not feel quite so upset about
it all.  His main emotion was anger, that all of this had to happen at
once.
 
    His attention was drawn back to his sister, whose sobbing
had become so great that she was actually shaking from it.  He turned
her to him, and she clutched at him, burying her face in his chest.
She remained that way for the rest of the service, which was,
thankfully, over shortly thereafter.
 
    Because many of these relatives had not seen each other in
many years, it had been decided that a reception of sorts would be held
after the funeral.  Martin led Becca back to the car, and held her
close during the ride to the church.  She said nothing during the
entire ride, her head resting on Martin's shoulder, her eyes closed.
She allowed herself to be led inside, and then she sat in a chair,
unmoving and unseeing.  She didn't eat or enter into any conversation.
She answered Martin's few questions with a nod of the head.
 
    Martin remained close by her side throughout the affair,
trying to lend as much support to his little sister as possible.  He
greeted several relatives he was completely unfamiliar with, and wished
for this whole mess to be done with.
 
    As the gathering was nearing an end, Martin's cousin,
Tiffany, came over to them.  Even dressed in black, Tiffany was a
stunning girl.  She was seventeen, and in her last year of high
school.  Her mien was somber, but she did not appear to have been
crying that day.  That was to be expected, for she wasn't *really* a
Gallagher.  Her mother had married into the family only a few years
ago, and so Tiffany hadn't known Martin's grandparents all that well.
 
    She bent momentarily to speak some kind words to Becca, who
only barely registered any hint that she had heard them.  Then Tiffany
straightened to talk to Martin.
 
    "A terrible day," she said.
 
    "A rotten week," Martin replied.
 
    "Yeah, I guess so.  They say that bad things always happen
in threes."
 
    "I'll keep my eyes open for that third thing, then."  She
smiled at his failed attempt at humor.  She put her hand on his for a
moment that lingered, wanting to show support, but there was more than
that.
 
    Because he already thought of her as a relative, it never
occurred to Martin to stop Tiffany from touching him.  When he felt the
warmth leaving his hand and entering hers, he knew it was far too late
to do anything about it.  He only hoped she would pull her hand away
before it had too great an effect.
 
    She did soon pull her hand free, but she had not wanted
to.  Touching him had felt so pleasant, and after such a hard day she'd
needed that.  *But to have such thoughts at a wake!*  She straightened
her thinking up, and finished off her conversation with the usual
pleasantries.  She wandered away from him, and Martin thanked God that
she appeared to be normal.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    It was a short ride home, but it seemed to take them
forever.  Martin again held Becca, who was now crying quietly in his
arms.  As they pulled into the driveway, it was immediately evident to
Martin that something was wrong, for the front door of the house was
standing wide open.
 
    Before anyone else could move or say anything, Martin said
to his sister, "Stay right here."  He shoved open his car door, and ran
for the house.  His father called behind him, but it meant nothing at
this point.  If there had been a burglar still in the house, his life
would have been forfeit.
 
    But there was not.  What *was* in the house was a very big
mess.  And little else.  As Martin looked around at the devastation, he
heard the family come in behind him.  The TV, the stereo, most of the
furniture, it had all been stolen.  What wasn't stolen was overturned,
smashed, and broken.  It made no sense.  The dishes had been taken out
of the cabinets and smashed on the floor.  This was insane.
 
    Martin heard a wail, and turned to see his sister
collapsing to the ground.  His mother had shrieked at the sight.
Martin didn't immediately go over to his sister.  Instead, he went to
her bedroom, where there was, thankfully, still a bed to put her on.
It had no sheets or blankets, but at this point that didn't matter.
 
    Martin scooped Becca up in his arms and carried her to her
bed, setting her down as gently as possible. He took off his suit coat
and rolled it up for a pillow.  He looked at her sleeping; her face was
peaceful, yet tormented, as if even her dreams were disturbed by the
real world.
 
    He turned to leave her bedroom, noting irrelevantly that
his TV was gone from her room, as was most of her stuff.  What wasn't
gone was, like the rest of the house, completely trashed.  He left the
room, closing the door behind him.  The look on his face was murderous,
and he longed for someone on which to release his fury.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    The police were of little help in the matter.  No, no one
had noticed anything unusual.  No, the neighbors did not see or hear
anything, but most of them were at work.  No, it was unlikely the
police would be able to get their heads on straight to catch the
motherfuckers any time soon.  Martin walked outside before he decided
to punch out an officer, who was admittedly just doing his job, but was
so goddamned calm about it that it only enraged Martin further.
 
 
 
...---=== http://ericstorm.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
 
 
    The insurance company came through amazingly fast with the
check, and his mother and father were out shopping the very next day
for new furniture and other necessities.  The night before had been
very painful.  Becca either sobbed or slept throughout the rest of the
day.  None of them said very much, and the meals were silent affairs.
 
    Martin was sitting out in the back yard, leaning against a
tree watching the ducks swim in the retention pond behind their house.
He looked at them, wondering what it would be like to be a duck.  No
grades to worry about, no one trying to steal your possessions, no one
beating up on your sister (except for the odd cat which would try to
eat your sister, but he didn't dwell on that).  *Ah, to be a duck.
Swim, eat, shit, sleep.  Then do it all over again tomorrow.  A nice,
peaceful lifestyle.*
 
    His reverie was broken when Becca tapped him on the
shoulder.  He looked up to see her holding the phone.  As he took it,
she said, "It's Tiffany."  Martin nodded, and she limped back to the
house.  Watching her just made Martin angry again.
 
    "Hello?" he said into the phone.
 
    "Hey, Marty.  How are you doing today?"
 
    "Okay, I guess.  Whatcha need?"
 
    "Humm.  Look, I realize this is kind of sudden and all, but
I need a favor.  See, I'm chaperoning this field trip tomorrow, and the
other person that was supposed to help us got the flu, and so can't do
it.  Is there any chance that you could fill in?  We really need a
third chaperone."
 
    "How old are the kids going?"
 
    "Third graders.  Eight and nine years old."
 
    "Where is the field trip *to*?"
 
    "Oh, didn't I say that already?  Sorry.  We're going to
MOSI."
 
    "Well... okay, but only because it's MOSI."
 
    "Great!  Thanks a lot, Marty.  We'll pick you up at seven
tomorrow, okay?"
 
    "All right.  Bye."
 
    As he hung up, he thought that perhaps this would be a good
distraction from what had been going on in his life.  He didn't really
have any interest in hanging out with third graders, but he loved
MOSI.  The Museum of Science and Industry had been one of his favorite
places since he was a kid.  Spending a day there, even in the company
of a bunch of screaming tykes, would be a decent way to kill time.  He
hopped up from his spot, the ducks all but forgotten, to go back in the
house.
 
 
 
...---=== http://ericstorm.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
 
 
    The next morning, Martin stumbled out of bed at six
o'clock, grumbling that he'd just gotten used to *not* getting up with
the sun.  At least his parents had remembered to buy him an alarm
clock, along with all the other stuff they had purchased.  He dressed -
in new clothes - and headed out to the kitchen after taking care of his
normal morning ritual in the bathroom.  He had barely finished his
breakfast when he heard a horn honking outside.  He hurried out the
door, taking care to say good-bye to his sister before he left.
 
    He slid into the seat waiting for him, which was the first
bench seat in the large van.  He slid the door closed as the driver
pulled off.  Tiffany was sitting next to him, and it was rather tight,
he thought.  But, looking around, he had a question.
 
    "You need three adults for this load?"
 
    "These aren't all of them.  Miss Callaway is in the second
van with the other kids.  The drivers don't go in with us."  She leaned
closer and whispered, "They don't like this field trip.  They hate
having to spend a Saturday on it."
 
    "Why *are* they going on a field trip during the break,
anyway?"
 
    "Good science fair performance.  The school is paying for
everything on this trip, including you and me."  Martin just nodded,
and tried to settle in place.  His mind wandered, as it had the past
days, to the troubles besetting his family.  He was so preoccupied that
he didn't notice that Tiffany was making an awful lot of contact.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    They met the second van in the parking lot of MOSI, and
that's when Martin realized that what they had *really *needed was a
guy.  The first task, of course, was to take everyone to the restrooms,
and since Martin was the only male, he got to handle all of the boys.
This he did, and had them back out and waiting on the girls not too
long thereafter.  He marveled at how calm these kids seemed to be.  He
had expected a rather raucous bunch, given they were on break.
 
    Finally, the two women herded the girls out of the
bathroom, and Miss Callaway looked, somewhat stunned, at Martin and his
group, standing quietly waiting.  The girls, with a little prompting
from Martin, fell into line as well, while Miss Callaway went to make
the proper arrangements with the museum staff.  Tiffany came over to
Martin.
 
    "What did you threaten them with?" she whispered.
 
    He looked at her for a minute, then just shrugged.  "Maybe
they're still sleepy."
 
    Tiffany gave him a *Yeah, right!* look, but kept her peace
until Miss Callaway came back.
 
    "They have us scheduled for the IMAX theater first thing.
It's a show about Niagara Falls.  The entrance to the dome is..." she
stalled, fumbling with her museum map.
 
    "On the second floor, up that way," Martin said, pointing.
"Should we go up now, or is it a while before the show starts?"
 
    "Let's go now.  The show is in fifteen minutes, and I dare
say it'll take that long to get all these kids up there and settled
down."
 
    Martin looked at her, and then the kids, and then did
something very uncharacteristic for him.  "Okay, kids, we're going to
go watch a movie first thing.  It's going to be under the big dome!
Now, we have to walk upstairs to get to the right room.  See that big
skeleton up there?" Martin asked, pointing to a full-size replica of a
dinosaur skeleton.  "They call that guy Tyrannosaurus Rex.  Why don't
we all walk like T-Rex on our way to the movie theater?  C'mon!"
Martin led off, doing his best impression of the large carnosaur.  The
kids laughed and giggled, but they followed him, doing their
impressions of tiny T-Rexes, as well.  They were having so much fun
being silly, they didn't bother to act up, and they were at the
entrance to the theater before they knew it.  Miss Callaway and Tiffany
just followed behind, stunned at how well Martin had taken charge of
the situation.
 
    It didn't take Martin long before he had the kids settled
into seats.  He noted there was still almost ten minutes to go before
the movie started.  He didn't understand the impulse that was driving
him now, but he figured he'd just go with it.
 
    "Okay, guys, the movie we're going to see is about Niagara
Falls.  Now, Niagara Falls is the biggest waterfalls in the United
States, and the second largest in the world.  Almost 750,000 gallons of
water *per second* go over the falls.  The Horseshoe Falls, on the
Canadian side, fall 170 feet.  But don't let everyone tell you that the
Canadian side is the most impressive: people who say that just haven't
seen the American Falls from the Cave of the Winds platform.
Anyway..." Martin carried on, telling the boys and girls what he knew
about Niagara Falls.  Even some of the other guests started listening
to him, and he saw at least one flashbulb go off in his direction.  It
took him by surprise when the person from the museum stepped to the
front to announce that the movie was about to start.
 
    As Martin slid into his seat, which was right next to
Tiffany's, she leaned over and whispered, "How do you know so much
about Niagara Falls?"
 
    "Been there," was his answer, and then the movie began.
 
    Martin had a hell of a time paying attention to the movie,
because he began to notice that Tiffany was making contact with him as
much as she could get away with.  He tried to scoot to the far side of
his seat, but they weren't wide enough for him to avoid her, and he
didn't want to seem downright rude.  He tolerated it, but worried what
it might be doing to her.  It spoiled the movie for him, and he was
grateful when the movie ended, for it allowed him to get up from his
seat, which he was certain he did too quickly, but couldn't stop
himself.  She didn't comment, however.
 
    "Okay, kids, let's just wait a minute, and let everyone
else leave first, okay?" Martin didn't even wait for Miss Callaway to
give direction.  He talked to the kids as they let the other people
clear the theater.  One of the kids raised their hand during the
discussion.  Martin didn't know her name, but pointed and waited for
her to ask her question.
 
    "Mr. Gallagher, you said that Niagara Falls was only the
second biggest waterfall.  Which one is bigger?"
 
    "Oh, you remembered that, did you?" he said warmly.  "The
biggest waterfalls in the world is Victoria Falls, in Africa.  But
Niagara Falls is easier for us to get to," he added with a chuckle.
The kids laughed.  As they settled down from that, he said, "Okay, the
room is clear, now we can go.  Be careful on the steps, and hold on to
the railing."
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    The morning passed quickly, with Martin's help.  The kids
were fascinated by the displays, and had fun playing with the hands-on
exhibits.  They enjoyed all the interesting items in the museum.  Miss
Callaway and Tiffany felt almost unneeded as Martin kept the kids both
excited and under control, leading them from one stop to the next,
seeming to know exactly how long to keep them in any one spot before
they would begin to lose interest, and then he would move on.
 
    Lunch had to come eventually, and so they all tromped down
to the cafeteria, again doing their T-Rex impressions.  The other
guests at the museum found it as entertaining as the kids did, but more
importantly it kept the children out of trouble.
 
    Finally, Martin sat down for lunch with the other two older
persons, after making sure that each child had his or her meal and was
relatively happy and settled.  He immediately tore into his burger and
fries, for the morning had given him a hellacious appetite.
 
    "How do you do it?" Miss Callaway asked in amazement.
 
    Martin stopped munching to respond, "Do what?"
 
    "Keep them under control like that!  I can't get them to
obey me on field trips except with bribery or threats!"
 
    Martin just shrugged.  "I dunno.  It just... happens.  I
don't think about it, I just sort of go with it.  I've never been good
with kids before.  Maybe it's because I like this place."
 
    Miss Callaway was unconvinced, but was willing to let it
go.  Lunch passed by with little in the way of fuss, but of course
there was a lot of muss, given nearly two dozen children.  They took
the time to clean up, and then they were off again.
 
    "Okay, guys," Martin began," here in Florida we really have
to worry about hurricanes.  A hurricane has winds that go faster than
75 miles per hour!"  He saw the kids' eyes go a little wide at that.
"That's faster than you're supposed to drive!"  A chuckle.  He had them
eating out of the palm of his hand.  "Right now, we're going to go over
to the hurricane simulator.  It'll show you what that kind of wind is
like, so let's go!"
 
    The kids followed in their lines up the stairs and over to
the location of the simulator.  The kids divided into three groups,
each to go with a different adult.  As Miss Callaway led the first
group into the glass-enclosed room, the others pressed their noses
against the outside of the glass, to see what was going to happen.  As
the large fan at the front of the room started up, you could see the
children inside clinging to their seats, and their hair was whipping
around their faces.
 
    Martin had been on this "ride" enough times to actually
find it a bit dull, so he was paying attention to how the kids were
reacting.  He saw one little girl who was actually shaking.  He went
over to her and knelt down.  He remembered her name was Gloria.
 
    "Gloria?" he whispered, "Are you okay?"  She merely nodded
yes, but it wasn't very convincing.  "The ride's a bit scary, huh?"
She nodded again, this time with a bit more conviction.  "Would you
feel better if I held your hand during the ride?"  Another nod, with a
*lot* of conviction behind it.
 
    "Okay," Martin said.  To Tiffany, he said, "Tiff, Gloria
wants to ride with me, so you'll have to take one of mine."  He winked
at Tiffany, and she immediately got the idea.  Martin didn't want to
embarrass the little girl.
 
    Martin's group was next, and he led Gloria into the chamber
and sat down as far away from the fan as he could get.  Her hand was a
claw, grasping his with the force of an eagle's talons on its prey.  He
squeezed her hand gently as they listened to the ride controller go
through her litany, and then the fan started up.
 
    Gloria's eyes grew wide at the feel of the wind as it
reached full strength.  Her mouth popped open at the wonder of it, and
her hand encircled Martin's even tighter.  He smiled reassuringly down
at her, and gave her hand another squeeze, though it was getting to the
point where she was cutting off the circulation to his fingers.  She
calmed down a little as the wind continued, and they survived their
"hurricane" together.
 
    Gloria was not the only child who staggered a bit as they
left the chamber, and Tiffany led her group inside.  Once they cleared
the line, Martin bent down to Gloria once more.  He whispered, "Now,
that wasn't so bad, was it?"  She shook her head no, and then gave him
a fierce hug.  He held onto her for a few seconds, and then she let go,
and he stood back up.  The children were all hushed, somewhat in awe of
the powerful force they had just felt.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    The afternoon passed as quickly as the morning had; the
children had a blast in the hands-on museum.  Soon, however, it was
time for the final movie, and the group of children stomped their way
to the theater.  A few of them even managed a credible T-Rex roar.
Martin got them all settled into their seats, and they quieted almost
instantly.
 
    "Okay, this next movie is about dolphins. Who can tell me
what the largest dolphin in the world is?"  He waited for several beats
while the kids stared at him before he answered.  "Okay, the biggest
dolphin in the world is called an 'orca' by the scientists.  We call
him a killer whale, but he's not a whale at all, he's really a
dolphin."  Martin kept speaking for a few more minutes before the
museum worker stepped up. 

    As Martin sat down, the lady said, "I'm not sure we need to
show the movie, now."  Everyone chuckled as Martin sat down, sort of
embarrassed to be the center of attention.  He was, of course, sitting
next to Tiffany.  The lady made her usual announcements, and then the
movie began.  Martin nearly forgot about the movie as he could not help
but notice that Tiffany was leaning her head on his shoulder and had
wrapped her arm around his.  He could feel the warmth pouring into her,
and just hoped that it didn't have what appeared to be its usual
effect.  She seemed, otherwise, to be normal, just that she was very
affectionate.
 
    Martin did manage to get his attention to focus on the
movie for a while, and before he knew it, it was over and time to go
home.  The normal whining from the children that Miss Callaway expected
did not happen, however, as the children had played so hard all day at
the museum they were ready for the ride home.  After the usual potty
break, they clambered back into their vans.
 
    Miss Callaway came over to Martin to say thank you.  As she
approached, he tensed, hoping that she wouldn't touch him.  His
newfound... what?  Power?  Talent?  Martin settled on the word 'trait'
to describe the warmth.  Whatever it was, it was beginning to make him
paranoid about people touching him.  Luckily, Miss Callaway merely
thanked him with words, and then climbed into the van with her kids.
Martin got into the other van with Tiffany, again having to sit next to
her.  He was certain this was her doing, but he kept his peace about it.
 
    The ride home was uneventful, if somewhat disconcerting.
Tiffany was fairly hanging off of Martin's arm by now.  She rested her
head on his shoulder for most of the ride home.  They were the last
ones to be let off the van, having dropped all the other children at
their homes.  Tiffany got off with Martin, explaining that her father
was coming over that night anyway, and so she would just wait for him
at Martin's house.
 
    As Tiffany talked with Martin's mother, he dropped in to
see his sister, who was doing all right, and then he went into his
room.  He sat down before his as-yet-unassembled new computer, and took
a deep breath.  It had been a long and confusing day.  He had never
been good with children, and he couldn't figure out why the day had
gone as smoothly as it had.
 
    He didn't have time to figure it out, however.  Tiffany
came into his room very shortly after he sat down, and she closed the
door.  He swiveled his chair toward her, figuring she wanted to talk.
That's when she sat down in his lap.
 
    "Tiffany, what are you-" his sentence was cut off as her
lips pressed against his.  Her tongue pressed its way into his mouth,
and soon her fingers were roaming his body as her tongue explored his
throat, or so it felt.
 
    Quickly her hands began pulling his T-shirt out of his
pants and up his chest.  She broke their kiss only long enough to yank
his shirt over his head and fling it into a corner.  Her lips began
their assault on his mouth anew as she unbuttoned her own blouse.
Martin was still too startled to be much of a participant, but neither
was he trying to stop her.  He'd been through a lot of shit lately, and
the sexual activity was feeling very good to him.
 
    Tiffany's blouse and bra went quickly, and then she pressed
her bare tits into his chest, as she ground her crotch against his,
feeling him harden beneath her.  She slid her lips from his mouth
across his cheek to his ear, and she huskily whispered, "Come on,
Marty.  You know you want me.  I can feel your dick straining to get
out of there.  Fuck my brains out!"  She nibbled on his earlobe as her
hands snaked down to his belt and began to undo it.
 
    That was all Martin could take.  He stood up and turned,
nearly throwing Tiffany onto the bed.  Her tits jiggled magnificently
as she landed, somewhat breathless from surprise.
 
    "You want this, do you?" Martin asked as he yanked his
pants and briefs together down his legs, allowing his cock to stand
free from confinement.  Tiffany's eyes were glued to the spot, her
tongue repeatedly licking her lips in anticipation.
 
    Martin quickly undressed as Tiffany kicked off her sneakers
and unzipped her jeans.  She raised her hips as Martin grabbed hold of
the waistband and pulled.  Her jeans were tight enough to take her
panties with them, and she, too, was quickly disrobed.
 
    Martin could clearly see the glistening juices already
leaking from her pussy, and he wasted no time.  He climbed between her
legs, kneeling so that his cock was pointed right at her tight hole.
One hand spread her outer lips, while the other directed his rod at her
opening.  The head of his cock pressed in, and she moaned softly,
trying to control herself.  Once he was inside, his hands moved to her
hips, pulling her down onto him as he pushed in.  Though she was very
wet, she was also tight, and it took some time for him to make it all
the way in, all the while she was moaning and mewling in pleasure.
 
    Finally, his balls rested against her, and he was fully
inside.  He paused as his hands moved again, up to massage her tits.
Tiffany's eyes closed as his hands roamed her breasts, molding them to
his liking.  He pinched and twisted her nipples, and she squeaked
quietly at the wonderful sensations.
 
    Then he began pounding into her.  This was not a romantic
lovemaking session, this was a wild fuck session.  He slammed into her
repeatedly, and she grunted with each thrust.  He leaned down and
mashed his lips to hers, their tongues dueling as their bodies coupled,
each one groaning into the other's mouth as their bodies fucked
together.  His hands still groped her breasts, tweaking and pinching
the nipples.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    In her excitement, Tiffany had not made sure the door had
latched when she closed it, and, in fact, it hadn't.  It had opened
slightly when the air conditioning had come back on, and the noise of
their activity had floated into the hallway.  Rebecca, in her room,
heard some unusual noises, and got up to investigate.  She approached
the door quietly, not wanting to disturb whatever was going on in the
room.  The slightly open door gave her just enough view of what was
happening to stop her dead in her tracks, and catch her breath in her
throat.  There was her brother and her cousin, naked as jaybirds and
merrily screwing away!
 
    Rebecca was riveted to the spot.  It would have taken a
physical force to move her from where she was standing.  Her eyes
focused on the spot where her brother was entering Tiffany, and the
thought came unbidden to Becca's mind: *I wonder how good that feels.*
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    After a while, Martin rolled them over, thanking God that
he had a double bed.  With Tiffany on top, she sat up, giving him a
wonderful view of her glorious chest.  As she began to move up and down
on his dick, he grasped her tits again, and molested them in a most
pleasant way.  It was harder for them to keep quiet this way, but they
tried their best, not knowing it didn't matter anymore.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    As Becca continued to watch the carnal event, Josh,
Tiffany's father, came to that part of the house to announce dinner.
Due to the construction of the house, the noises of the bedroom were
not audible outside the hallway, but once Josh entered the hallway, he
knew immediately what was going on.  He also took note of Rebecca
standing at the door, watching.  He noted the curve of her tight ass,
and the swelling of her still-growing chest.  He longed to rip off her
clothes, but he knew that she belonged to someone else.
 
    He moved up to her quietly, not knowing that a small
tornado would not have gotten her attention at this point.  He placed
his hand over her mouth, as he didn't want her to scream when he
startled her.  She almost panicked, but when she looked up and saw him,
she relaxed.  He put his finger to his lips, and she nodded.  He
removed his hand, and then they both watched the events inside for a
few more moments.  He could see his stepdaughter's pussy clamping down
on his nephew's dick as she rode him.  He could tell that Rebecca was
staring at that sight, too.
 
    "Some day, Becca, that just might be you," he whispered.
He could see her shudder, but wasn't sure what it was from.  Had he
known that her pussy was dripping, he would have had a better clue.
"Why don't we leave them alone to finish up?  Dinner's ready, so you
should get washed up."
 
    Becca nodded, and they both left the hallway.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    Back inside the room, things were really heating up.
Tiffany was slamming herself down onto Martin's cock repeatedly, and
they both grunted with each thrust.  Martin's hips were rocking up to
meet each of Tiffany's pushes.  They both knew they were getting close,
so Tiffany leaned down and brought her mouth to Martin's.  They slowed
not a whit as they kissed, and as Martin sucked her tongue, her pussy
erupted in a mind-blowing orgasm.  The feel of her pussy contracting on
his cock sent him over the edge, and he blasted his seed into her, each
of them screaming into the other's mouth, muffling the noise in a
needless effort to keep their secret.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    Josh gave the couple several minutes to finish and clean up
before informing them of dinner.  They thought they were behaving
normally during the meal.  They were the only ones who didn't know the
act was unnecessary.
 
 
 
...---=== http://ericstorm.wolfpub.org ===---...
 ...---=== http://ericstorm.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
 

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+