At home

The entire trip home I was silent. Hell, I don't even remember half the trip.

Pulling into the driveway of our parent's ranch house has always been a little more fun than most driveways. A good dirt approach and wide area to park usually means I can give the truck a little gas and kick the back end out, spraying dirt and admittedly a couple rocks. Thankfully, we've got a grove of trees and our old tree fort to get pelted instead of something expensive.

I usually like to kicked the truck sideways as I enter the driveway but today I was in another world thinking about what happened. I see the UPS truck sitting in the driveway. Knowing we don't get packages too often (Amazon Prime is still even a 3-day wait for most things), you immediately start to wonder what someone ordered.

As I park the truck and open the door, the usual sweet smell of country life completely eludes me. Outdoors in the country is usually like no other. You could have the worst day in the world, but that sound of wind, smell of a mixture of forest and flowers, and the sight of grove grass bouncing with the waves of wind can help soothe the most tortured soul. Well, not today. You shoot out of the truck gripping your bags tightly and halfway up the sidewalk to the house. "The fuck is his problem?", you hear Kaleb say out loud to himself. Fucking Def Leppard.

As you stride past your family's vehicles and up to the sidewalk, the family dog Trigger can be seen running up from the grove. They call them King Shepherds, I just call them really big German Shepherds. Along with him is always a stick or toy for you to pay dog tax with a throw. Kaleb can throw the damn stick for him.

As you get in the house, there sits a package on the kitchen counter, around it stand your dad and your brother. By the way they're looking at it, it might as well jump up and give a showtune dance. Something like that one dancing and singing frog cartoon. You stride past them immediately up to your room. Behind you, you hear,"What the hell is it?", your dad says. "and why is it addressed to you?", he looks up at John. Now, my dad Tim was never a tall man standing at 5'11, but he was dwarfed by John, who stood at a good 6'4. "The hell if I know, I ordered a few things from a few places, but this doesn't look like any of them.", John stated.

"A few things? I know I don't pay you enough for that shit. You sucking dicks on the side or something?, my dad laughs. From outside your door you hear, "Hey, you guys see where Patrick went to? He got in trouble with coach, I think he's pissy." Kaleb yelled a little too loudly. "Yeah, he stormed off to his room holding his bags. What's in the blue bag?", John replied.

"Hell if I know, maybe better legs to run with." Kaleb laughs. "Man, fuck that guy." you think.

As you turn around, you realize the blue bag that had the cheerleader outfit had opened and spilled onto the bed. As you stare at it, a flashback of what happened plays through your mind. As you realize just how fucked up everything just had gotten, you feel yourself get hard. What the fuck? You stare down at the tent in your pants and realize the biggest betrayal of today ended up being your body. As you half heartedly tried to reposition your cock so it didn't tent as much, a shot of pleasure ran through the same touch. "Man, what the hell is wrong with me?"

You start to put the cheerleader costume away when you stop dead and stare. There's a white crust and stain around the neck line. Coach Johnson's cum. Why am I harder? You grab it and stash it away, but as you do, you purposefully position your thumb on the neckline and touch the dried cum. After stashing it, you have that urge to smell the sin you've created.

Today is weird.