The Cheesecake

"I don't know, it seems like a little too much. Or a little too small," Brandon said as they walked in the parking lot to his SUV.

"That's the whole point! Ginger's got a great taste for looking sexy," Trent insisted. "If Ashley doesn't love it, then she's crazy."

"It's kinda weird to buy her this as a present?" Brandon asked, holding up the bag from Victoria's Secrets.

"Bro, I haven't had one complaint yet from the girls I buy for," Trent responded. "Trust me, you won't feel weird when you see Ashley in that. Well, you'll feel something."

Brandon ignored his laughing friend. "At least I bought the locket if she hates the lingerie."

"Dude, Ashley's not going to hate. She's going to look fucking hot," Trent persisted. "You know, since this was my idea, I think you need to send me a picture of her in it."

"That's not going to happen."

"C'mon, I need it for Ginger...for professional reasons," Trent explained.

"Nope."

Trent grumbled some more as Brandon pulled out his key and pressed the button on the fob to open the trunk. Trent immediately went to place his throng of bags into the rear section of the SUV but stopped.

"Is that your mom's cheesecake?"

"Yeah, I have—"

"Can I have it?" Trent asked, his mouth already watering.

"Shit, I almost forgot. I have to drop that off at the Riveras," Brandon groaned.

"Say you forgot to and let me have it," his friend suggested. "I love your mom's cheesecake."

"No, I promised to drop it off."

"But your mom's cheesecake is delicious."

"No, she's going to ask Mrs. Rivera if they got it, and then I'll be in trouble," Brandon foresaw.

"You can think up some bullshit excuse. Come on!"

"You know what?" Brandon teased, getting the other teen's hopes up. "I'll let you hold it on your lap until I drop you off."

"You're a cruel man, you know that," Trent complained, but picked up the cheesecake container.

"How about I tell Mom that you were disappointed? She might save you some next time," Brandon offered as he got into the vehicle. With his hands now free, he pulled out his phone.

"You do that. Tell your mom I miss her cakes. They're the best. The tastiest around, I tell ya."

"Uh-huh," Brandon replied, not really paying attention as he read a text message.

"Yessiree, I sure love eating your mom's cakes. I could devour them all day. In fact, I love to pound them cakes," Trent continued.

"What? Oh, shut the fuck up!" Brandon responded after finishing his message and catching onto Trent's sexual innuendo. "I don't talk about your mom like that."

"You better not!" Trent warned.

They drove in silence after that. Trent finally broke the silence with his house only a few blocks away.

"Who were you texting?"

"Ash. Heather's throwing a pedicure party at her house tonight for the girls," Brandon revealed.

"Party?"

"It's not that kind of a party."

"Yeah, I know what a pedicure is, dumbass," Trent replied. "Still, a party with girls...we need to crash it."

"We're not going to crash it," Brandon declared.

"Why not?"

"Do you want to piss off Heather? A pissed off Heather won't be willing to listen when Ashley suggests they make a guest appearance at Sharon's Christmas performance. Do you want that?" Brandon explained to his friend as if he was a child.

"No. But Ashley better get the squad to do it," Trent demanded. "I guess we can hit up a party tonight."

"Who's having a party?"

"Brandon, it's the day after Thanksgiving, there's always a party! Everybody home from college will want to see their old friends," Trent relayed. "I'll ask around. You down?"

"Nothing else to do."

"Cool. Hey, you think you can make a distraction so that I can sneak these bags inside?" Trent asked as they pulled into his driveway.

Brandon was still chuckling when he parked in the Riveras' driveway. Trent didn't really need his help. Walking into the kitchen, his friend screamed for his mom to cover her eyes as he had presents. Mrs. Thornton immediately went to distract Trishelle, allowing Trent to slip upstairs.

Leaning over, Brandon picked up the cheesecake. Making his way to the front door, he unlocked it and entered the quiet Riveras' house. Feeling strange at being in the home alone, Brandon headed straight for the kitchen. Walking down the hallway, he glanced at the family photos that hung on the wall. Mr. Rivera looked scary in his police uniform when he was younger.

Once in the kitchen, Brandon placed the cheesecake on the counter and opened the refrigerator. Seeing Thanksgiving leftovers inside, he kneeled down to move them around to make room when he suddenly stopped. What was that? Brandon continued to kneel while he intently listened for the sound he thought he heard.

A faint, indiscernible sound caught his attention. Slowly rising back up, Brandon gently closed the fridge's door. Leaning his head in the direction of where he thought the sound came, he strained to hear more. No one is supposed to be here. Quietly walking over to the door to the garage, Brandon softly opened it and peeked inside. Mr. Rivera's vehicle was parked inside, but the family car was missing. Recalling a phone conversation his mom had with Mrs. Rivera yesterday, Brandon knew that Carlos had been the one that wanted to get away to the cabin for the weekend.

A clang sounded from the back of the house. Could it be a burglar? Maybe they hit houses when they think people are gone for the holidays. Deciding he needed to check, Brandon crossed to the other side of the kitchen. Prepared to creep down the back hall, another thought hit him. What if there's more than one? Glancing around, he saw the knife block on the kitchen counter. Tiptoeing over, Brandon pulled out a couple of knives, before settling on the large butcher knife. Gripping the handle tightly, the teen started to stealthily walk down the carpeted hallway.

Having been in the Riveras' house numerous times over his lifetime, Brandon knew the house had three bedrooms and a bathroom off this hall. First up, he glanced into the spare bedroom. Nothing. Continuing his tiptoeing, he reached Lisa's room. Inside, he saw clothes strewn all over the place. Opened drawers and a wide-open closet door sent his heart racing. It is a burglar!

"Ugh!"

Brandon's head snapped around as he heard the groan. His hand sweaty, he switched the butcher knife to his left hand, and swiftly wiped his right hand on his pants. Now dry, he changed his grip on the knife to better slash than stab the intruder. Extra carefully, he tried not to make any sound as he approached the partially closed door for the master bedroom. Reaching out, he tapped the door slightly to push it open more. As it slightly creaked, Brandon noticed the bedroom had hardwood floors. His heart raced at the new complication.

With the door almost entirely open, Brandon didn't see anyone from his vantage point, but he heard another sound from the left side of the bedroom. Pumping himself up, Brandon prepared for the moment. Showing off his agility, the teen leaped into the room.

Time seemed to slow down as Brandon swung his body in the direction of the sounds he heard seconds earlier. All the aggression he built up in preparation for the confrontation slipped away as his brain struggled to process what he saw. The grains of sand tumbled one by one in the hourglass as everything around Brandon went into slow motion.

There was no burglar. Instead, a goddess stood in front of a long, vertical mirror. The goddess appeared to be posing as she bent one leg at the knee while twisting her body to stare into the mirror. Flawless, tan skin appeared everywhere. Long, wavy black hair looked to be in the process of being shaken. As Brandon's brain and motor functions shut down, he had enough sense to realize the hair had been styled at more considerable effort than usual.

As his grip on the butcher knife slipped, Brandon's eyes ran up and down the strange red fabric that covered only a fraction of the goddess's figure. The red material went down her waist and past her nether regions before struggling to stay out of the valley of her curvy ass cheeks. Moving up from that mouth-watering rump, the fabric wrapped around a pair of large breasts. Only the material covered a minuscule portion in the middle of the glorious bosom. The third that squeezed up from the fabric and the third that peeked out from under, caused Brandon's body to stiffen.

As the knife tumbled out of his hand, Brandon's brain sped back up as blood raced down to his touchdown maker. Devouring the hottest sight he ever witnessed in his young life, he finally realized what lay before him. A luscious, Latina stood in front of the mirror wearing nothing but a red ribbon and bow. She's a gift. The sexiest, most desirable gift I've ever wanted. Those tits, that ass, that face...that face! Brandon's mind exploded as he recognized the face that stared into the mirror.

The clank of the knife hitting the hardwood floor, caused that hot body to jump, and that angelic face to swing in the direction of the real intruder. In slow motion, those dark brown eyes widened as those lips made for cock-sucking opened wide.

"Eeeeeeeeee-ahhhhhhhh!!!!"

Brandon's muscle memory kicked in as he went into a defensive stance. Expecting a dangerous intruder and finding a ravishing revelation instead, the teenager felt faint from the overwhelming situation. Falling backward, while the screaming continued, Brandon's back hit the open door. Snapped out of his funk, he reverted to real-time.

The dark-haired Aphrodite crossed an arm over her bust and placed a hand in front of her crotch. A terrified, horrified face morphed into a mask of fury and fright.

"Brannndooonnn!"

"I'm sorry!"

"Get out!"

Discombobulated from the mesmerizing vision, Brandon nearly ran into the bedroom to escape. His momentum already going in that direction; the athlete shifted back toward the doorway. Instead of running, he flung himself out of the room, causing him to fall to the floor.

"Oh, my god!" the goddess wailed from the bedroom.

Pushing his upper body off the hall floor, Brandon scrambled to crawl and then run. Racing through the house, Brandon took corners too fast and haphazardly. He bounced into a wall, skidded into a kitchen counter, and slammed into the front door, after forgetting to open it. Jumping back to his feet, he jerked the door open and lept off the porch.

Finally, in the safety of his SUV, Brandon's panic diminished enough for one clear thought.

I just saw the sexiest creature in my life...and it's my sister's best friend. It's Lisa!