Arc Zero (Tutorial): At Home

If you had to go with an analogy, you'd put it like this: You had a long day at work and are tired. You get home and decide to have a quick dinner before heading to bed. Open the fridge and look inside. Empty. You hadn't had time to cook last night. Your stomach grumbles- you have three options. You could cook, you could eat out, or you could head to bed hungry. One would take a while, one would be unhealthy but quick, and the last healthy but unfulfilling.

You've had a lot of sex in recent days. With each repeat, your stamina improved and your refractory period decreased. That sounded like a good thing- until you reached a point where five times a day wasn't enough. You would have sex with one woman and then turn to leave only to have an uncomfortable erection even before you got out of the building.

The erections also came at inconvenient times. Like when you were at home with only your mom and sister around. That was when the analogy kicked in. You had three options.

The first was to do the sensible thing, and leave. Go to a more sensible spot; the airport, a high school you didn't go to, a local university, the park, and so on. It was time consuming, however, which made it inconvenient despite being the safest option. Twenty minutes at minimum for the nearest site, with the longer ones being safer.

The second option was to abstain all together. You could just not have sex for a night- it wouldn't kill you. This wasn't an option you were fond of. You had tried it, once or twice. What had ended up happening was that you would toss and turn for a bit with a rock hard boner, before giving up and going with one of the other options.

The third option, the one you used most often in situations like this, would be to just use one of the two women close to you. Your mother and sister.

Languidly, you stride into your room, slamming the door shut behind you. No sooner than the door closes does your hand go to your stopwatch and hit the red button. As always, the world grinds to a halt around you. No one could see you, with the shades drawn and the door closed, so you don't bother making a note of how exactly you were standing.

You turn and walk out your room and down the hall to your sisters. Locked- Morgan had a habit of doing that. It never helped her before. It wouldn't help her now. Morgan had been going through a bout of teenage rebellion a few years back. During that period, your parents had been worried about what she was doing locked up inside her room all day. Specifically, they were worried about drugs.

Consequently, the had an extra set of keys made for her door. Morgan had since grown out of that phase of her life, but the key still remained. It was inside of a cup within the dining room China. You wouldn't be surprised if everyone save for you had forgotten that it existed. Nonetheless, you left it there for the ease of access and for the sake of reasonable deniability.

If you left it in your room- say on top of your desk- and someone found it there, it might raise eyebrows. No one would suspect what you were actually doing, you hoped, but a teenage boy having the keys to his older teenage sisters room would still look bad. Much better to leave it where it was, an extra thirty seconds away.

You returned with the key shortly, and inserted it into the lock. A quick turn and the door hung open.

Morgan's room was a holdout from her more rebellious era. Once upon a time, you remembered her room being a cute pink and lavender combo, but when she got into high school, Morgan decided that girly colors weren't for her. Her original demands had been that her room be painted black. Your parents had refused of course, but eventually Morgan had convinced them to compromise.

Her color preferred color scheme was dark. Tan walls only a shade lighter than the dark brown sofa leaning against a corner. Her bed, a dark purple covering over a black-mahogany frame, rested against one end. A smooth black vanity rested on the other, complete with a matching mirror and wardrobe.

A quick peek told you why Morgan had locked the door. Outfits were strewn across the floor; tried and discarded. Another pile rested on her bed- the pile that had yet to be tried, you imagined.

Morgan had been standing in front of the mirror, in the process of taking her latest outfit off. You thought she looked fine- she was wearing one of her more recent outfits. A frilly white shirt that allowed you to see her pink bra from the side, and shorts.

She had decided to start taking off the shorts. You decided to give her a hand with that. "And you say I'm never helpful." Quietly, you chuckle under you breath.