Randy's room

Randy became distantly aware of the waking world as sensations returned to him one by one. He felt the softness of a bed beneath him, the cool dampness of a cloth against his forehead, the warm rays of sunlight. His eyes opened a crack and the blur of the world began to take shape and form. His bedroom. He was laying on his bed, underneath his window, in his bedroom.

Slowly he sat up, one hand pressed against the damp cloth holding it in place. Vertigo hit him for a moment, but it passed and his thoughts started to run together clearly.

He had mowed the lawn, it had been ridiculously hot out. He had seen Kayla tanning herself in a bikini. He had taken the time to admire her body, gone inside and then...

"Jesus, what the fuck?" He muttered, shaking his head as an image of his father in a bikini inserted itself into his mind. "What the actual fuck..."

His eyes lifted and glanced out the window. The sun was bright and the cicadas were singing. Kayla was nowhere to be seen. Randy stared for a few moments and then let out a shaky laugh. "You idiot," he told himself, smiling a little. "Got yourself sunstroke perving on Kayla....No wonder I had that weird dream."

Lifting a hand to the damp cloth, he cursed under his breath. His mom would be worried sick, and his dad...

Randy's thoughts darkened a little. His dad would probably lecture him again, probably be on his case all week for scaring his mother like. Randy couldn't help but scowl. It was always something with the old man, an endless list of complaints or criticisms. He thought about it all and just sighed. It had always been that way. His dad was a hard ass, always distant. A thought lodged itself into his brain, and he could only shake his head sadly. His mom was so great, but it was a whole other story with his dad. If only his dad could be friendlier.

He braced himself for what awaited him downstairs only for a knock to come at his door. "Are you feeling better, sweetie?"

"Yeah," he answered rubbing his face, "much better..."

The doorknob turned and opened. "That's great, sweetie, I made you some iced tea, if you'd like."

"Sounds good," A smile crept across his face remembering how good his mom's iced tea was. He turned to face her. "Thanks Mo-OHHHJesusfuck!"

At first glance the person standing in the doorway might have seemed like Randy's neighbour. The feminine body was smooth and tanned. Athletic and muscled thighs that looked designed for the act of love were concealed only by the flimsiest of denim shorts. The mounds of tanned breasts stood tall and firm behind the pink bikini bra. Long, vibrant blonde hair fell down to the tanned shoulders. At first glance, this was a goddess.

But sat atop that body, framed by the beautiful hair, was the stubbled jaw, moustached face of Rick Meadows, his father. Said face looked at him uncertainly, and spoke with a soft, feminine voice. "Randy, sweetie, what's wrong?"