Summer, My Crush, His Parents

Writer's note: I'm sorry about that tagline...

Chapter 3 - Joel

I wince as the car hops the driveway lip. The bump makes the passenger seat rub against my raw skin. I've had to maintain an uncomfortable balancing act all the way back home.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Claire says at the wheel. "Almost there."

Her usual slightly overbearing maternal instincts are such a relief after the humiliating visit to the doctor. The old woman spent half an hour scolding me for staying in the sun as she inspected every inch of my red skin.

Claire parks the car in front of the house and cuts the engine.

"Don't move, I'll help you," she says.

"I can still take off my own seatbelt," I mutter at her empty seat.

But she's already gone around the hood and swings my door open. Taking me into town to see the doctor had her regress back to her soccer mom personality. Well, a soccer mom with sparkly blue eyes, a killer smile, and a cute accent. She's just too much.

My lusty thoughts are all but quashed when I take her hands to pull myself out. The leather seat clings to the back of my thighs, peeling away with a sticky sound that sends fire lancing up my legs.

"Sorry," Claire says in a small voice, like she's responsible for any of this.

I let her lead me inside, one hand in mine, the other holding the pharmacy paper bag.

As per usual, the house, with its fried AC, is only slightly cooler than just standing outside under the harsh sun.

When we reach the living room, Claire flips the lights on. I feel her hands on the hem of my long, floating T-shirt. Without thinking, I raise my arms, leaving me in nothing but a pair of cotton panties.

I try to catch her gaze, biting my lips. She's my... Lover? It feels so strange to think about. So exhilarating. But there's only worry on her beautiful face as she peers at my burnt skin.

"Come stand near the window," she says, rummaging through the paper bag, fishing out a tube of cream.

Deflated, I obey, and she starts rubbing the ointment on my back. It smells like chemicals but feels wonderfully fresh.

I've spent the past few days since Claire's birthday seeking any private moment with her. Yet, this does not have the usual intimate intensity. She's precise and silent.

"Harp!" Noah's voice comes in like a boom through the living room arches. "What did the doc say?"

I yelp and fold my arms over my chest, crouching to try and hide my body from him. Both Claire and Noah seem mystified about my reaction.

"This is the moment you chose to turn modest?" Claire snorts, patting my shoulder for me to get up. "You're not supposed to wear anything for the next few days."

She helps me up, completely unfazed.

"Basically, I'm just a little burnt," I say, blushing furiously. This is not the first time he's seen me, but this setup feels extra humiliating compared to just hanging around the pool half-naked. "She gave me a cream to apply every six hours. And yeah, not really supposed to have anything brushing on my skin..."

Noah gives me a sympathetic smile.

"That sucks," he says, then smirks. "Still can't believe you actually fell asleep in the sun."

I ball my fists.

"I was in the shade when I dozed off," I almost shout at him.

God, he can be such a pain. I brace for a comeback, but Claire's hand smooths along my side, reminding me of the current context.

"The sun turns during the day, sweetheart," she says.

"Yeah,switart," Noah says, imitating her accent.

I grab the closest object, my T-shirt, ball it, and toss it right in his smug, stupid face. He cackles and flops onto the couch.

Claire, ignoring both of us, hands me the cream tube. "You do your legs, I'll make you two something to eat."

Then she's off, already halfway to the kitchen. I bend over and start rubbing the cream onto my calves. I keep my legs stiff, back arched, ass pushed out. But Noah's eyes stay glued to the TV.

Whatever.

A few minutes later, Claire calls us in. I walk over to the couch and offer my hand. Noah grins, peels off his shirt, and then accepts it.

"Solidarity," he says with a wink at my surprised expression.

He barely glances at my exposed chest. I still gush silently.

I can't really sit when we get to the kitchen. I just lean against the bar and munch on my grilled cheese with Noah next to me on one of the high chairs. Claire's eyes are full of tenderness, looking at us as we enjoy the food she made.

We almost look like a real family.

If you ignore my bare tits.

My crippling crush on Noah.

And the fact that I'm sleeping with his mom.

Bon appétit.

===

I wake up with my head buried in a fragrant, fluffy pillow.

Hands are busy rubbing ointment into my back and hips. I moan a little. The burns have mostly faded by now. But I still "complain." Claire needs a reason to touch me, and I'm happy to give her one.

"Good morning," I beam over my shoulder.

She bends above me, landing a minty kiss on the corner of my mouth.

"Don't move," she whispers. "I'm taking care of my good girl."

I groan when she pulls back. My hips lift from the mattress on their own to meet her touch. A gentle slap on my butt brings me back to order.

"Use your words," Claire says.

"Please, Claire," I whimper. "I'm really horny."

She chuckles.

"You're always horny," she says.

But still, this time when I lift my hips, she glides my panties down my legs.

Claire kneads both my cheeks. I feel the morning air against my most private parts. What a way to start the day.

I hear a spurt, before a glob of cream falls right inside my crack. I shudder. The cold tingle radiates through my entire core.

Slippery fingers snake between my legs, finding my rapidly hardening clit. Claire's not here to let the moment linger. She's being efficient. Taking care of me.

Her floral, put-together scent surrounds me, and I can feel the slightest brushes of her hair, her clothes on my back. Meanwhile, I'm just a naked little mess for her.

"I'm trying something new," Claire says in an even tone. "Tell me if you want me to stop."

I nod into the pillow, then feel a thumb slide up my crack, coming to rest on my asshole.

It feels so filthy, I could cum right there and then. She doesn't push in, just circles around the edge, gently applying pressure. My chest rubs against the covers as I wriggle in pleasure.

"Such a dirty girl," Claire marvels, biting my earlobe.

My thighs quiver, clamping around her hand to keep it against me. But to my utter despair, I cum before she has time to explore further.

She lies next to me on the bed, her eyes a few inches from mine. I lean in to catch my breath in her mouth.

"Hello," I say when we pull away.

Claire smiles, enjoying my afterglow.

"You're too pretty for your own good," she says.

I drink in the attention, and we stay silent for a moment.

"Your turn?" I offer, always eager.

"Sorry, sweetheart," she says, brushing my hair away from my sweaty face. "I wanted to get your first application of the day out of the way. But I actually have to run. They're doing renovations at my school, and the crew needs my input."

I pout. "Who's gonna do the other ones?"

"There are two competent men in the house," she says with a wink. "I'm sure you can find some help."

She leans in, puts a peck on my nose, then gets up.

"I'll see you tonight," Claire finally says, closing the door behind her.

I bury my head back in the pillow and try to go back to sleep, ignoring the prospect of asking Joel to rub ointment all over my back.

===

It still feels a little daring to put myself under the harsh sun right away. So it's another day of video games in Noah's darkened room for me.

I'm lying flat on my tummy, the only comfortable position available to me, arms dangling over the foot of the bed, controller in hand. Of course, I'm only wearing modest panties and white ankle socks, my uniform over the past few days of convalescence.

Noah bursts into the room in a flurry of cold, wet air. He's just out of the pool and carelessly dripping water everywhere. Not that I'm complaining.

"Sure, you can't come swim?" He asks.

"Very funny," I groan, pointing my thumb at my back.

He shrugs, then leans over me, flicking droplets along my spine.

"ASMR," he calls.

I giggle.

Ever since my roommate showed us the videos of pretty girls whispering in your ears, swinging random objects in front of the camera, it's become a private joke between Noah and me.

We use the word liberally, without much logic. It's our thing.

"Is it working?" He continues, laughing along. "Am I ASMR-ing you real good?"

Truth be told, I do feel the tingles from the fresh touch of the water. But I'm not lame like that.

"Oh yeah," I say, in a dry tone. "I'm about to ASMR all over your sheets."

"Gross," he snorts.

When the flicking stops, I turn my head to look at him. I'm met by a patch of black curls. A soft cock hanging from it. My soul leaves my body. Is it happening?

"What are you doing?" I ask, barely there.

"Changing into something dry," Noah answers like nothing's weird about it.

"My eyes are up here, by the way," he adds in a sassy, girly voice.

Fuck.

I look away in panic, planting my face in the mattress.

"Pervert," he adds with a chuckle.

Please, God, just smite me.

"I'm sorry," I groan into the sheets.

But the bed already bends. A clearly unbothered Noah sits against the headboard, next to my feet.

"Relax," he says. "I'm teasing you."

Noah's voice shifts completely. "What the fuck? I thought we agreed on doing a mage?"

I glance up at the screen. Our Skyrim character is crouched in the bushes, bow drawn.

"I'm doing the Thieves Guild line," I say, nudging his chest with my foot. "Heists are cleaner when you're not fireballing the entire town square. You'd know that if you ever paid attention to me for like, five minutes."

Peering over my shoulder, I catch his momentary wince. But he grabs my heel instead of apologizing.

"Cute socks," he says.

His attempt to deflect is so dumb. But I'm pathetic. I can't help but blush, half embarrassed, half basking in the attention.

"I'm doing my best with what I'm allowed to wear," I mutter, watching as he fingers the little frills at my ankle.

He snorts, then nods toward the TV. "Do I get to play?"

I shake my head, and grab my perennial tube of burn ointment.

"Nah," I say. "Your mom is off to work, and I need someone to apply lotion on my back."

He arches his eyebrow, clearly surprised by my request. I hold my breath. This does feel like an escalation.

It's one thing to parade myself half-naked around the house. Claire does the same, and no one's wearing much clothing anyway, what with the constant heat. But asking him to actually get his hands on me?

For a second, I feel like I've pushed too far.

But eventually, Noah shrugs and scoots lower down the mattress, barely catching the tube when I toss it to him.

"Your back is looking much better," he says as I unpause the game and resume stalking a poor city-guard.

His hands press into my shoulder blades, rubbing the cream deep into my damaged skin. The parallel to Claire's touch this morning sends a delicious thrill through me.

"The doctor said it would only take a few days to heal. I'm barely peeling anymore."

"Not, just that," he says softly. "You look a lot more... toned than when you got here."

I pause the game, look back, and try to figure out if he's pulling my leg. Discreetly, I peek at his boxers. No way to tell.

"You think so?"

"Yeah," he weighs his next words for a few seconds. "Like, no offense, but you looked super pasty and weak just a few weeks ago. Swimming really suits you. I mean, apart from the horrific sunburns, of course."

I chuckle. He doesn't have to undercut every compliment with a jab, but I'll take it anyway.

"Claire's working me hard," I say, before panicking when I catch the double meaning of my own words.

He hums and continues to rub my skin. I just look at him. The game no longer seems as interesting.

"Maybe we could take swimming lessons when we go back to school," I offer.

He tears his eyes from my skin, about to answer when the door bursts open. I almost jump to the ceiling.

"Hey, Noah, look who's here," Joel says in a flat tone.

"Hello," calls a feminine voice.

It's a girl our age, with carefully managed blonde curls framing a pretty face. Even with the expression of surprise on her face at my sight, I easily recognize the person I spent hours stalking on Facebook. Sarah.

"Are we interrupting something?" She asks, amused as I try to burrow into the mattress and disappear.

"Harper needed help," Noah says casually. This is a letdown. I at least expected him to stammer. On account of his hands on my naked skin.

Sarah's eyes roam over my back. She looks like she feels more sorry for me than threatened.

"Oh," she says brightly. "You're the famous Harper."

"Yeah, that's me," I try bravely.

"Feeling better?" Joel asks.

I half-smile, half-wince at him gratefully. Sarah sits on the bed, right next to Noah. She's entirely unfazed by my half-naked body. Give it a few minutes, and she'll pat my ass for me to move over. I've never felt so much like an ottoman.

"So," Sarah says, crossing her legs. "My parents are taking my brothers and me for a week at the beach."

Oh yes.

"But my older brother's annoying fiancée insisted on tagging along," she continues, rolling her eyes. "So I negotiated for them to take you too."

Oh no.

Noah's face lights up. "Really? That'd be awesome!"

Joel clears his throat. I bunch the covers around my side, trying to protect myself. I know it's pointless. But still. Any spark of excitement has left my body. I just feel so ridiculous and cold despite how hot the house still is.

"Oh yeah," Noah turns to me, remembering my existence. "Would that be ok with you? I'd hate to leave you alone..."

Thanks a lot, Noah. I either get left behind or become the buzzkill.

"That's not fair to Harper," Joel says.

I can see the disappointment playing over Noah's face.

"No, it's okay," I say, resigned, then hold out the controller with a forced smile. "I've got Skyrim, right?"

"Thanks, Harp," Noah beams.

"No point having both of you being miserable while you recover," Sarah agrees. This time, she does squeeze my hand.

Joel sighs. "Well, I guess you should get a bag ready then."

Noah gets up from the bed and grabs something from under the bed. "So... Maybe I already have one ready."

Both he and Sarah look away. This was planned in advance.

"My parents are leaving in like half an hour," Sarah explains, losing some of her confidence.

"We'll talk about that when you get back," Joel says, shooting a black look at Noah. "But yeah, move along. I'll clear it with your Mom."

"Thanks," Noah says, putting on a shirt. "See you in a week, Harp. I'll keep in touch."

"We should hang out sometimes," Sarah offers in passing, as they slip out of the room.

My head rings. It's just Joel, standing dumbfounded, and me, flat on my belly, in the room.

"Guess that ship has sailed," I say, sounding more bitter than I expected.

I swallow and unpause the game, cringing as I feel his surprised gaze on me. He sits at the foot of the bed and pretends to look at the screen for a moment.

"What do you mean?"

"Noah and me," I chuckle. "Like, he couldn't be clearer that he's just not into me that way."

If I say it out loud, I'll start believing it too.

"Maybe it's for the best," Joel says.

I look up at him. He's sitting so straight, in a tight Hawaiian shirt and shorts. He lacks the beer belly that should go with that outfit.

"Imagine if you two started dating," he says after noticing my surprised expression. "And he found out about you and Claire. Or even if he didn't, can you imagine how awkward Christmas would be?"

We share a stupid laugh. Then my eyes fall on the undying cream tube. I swear I used to be less needy.

"Can you do me a favor?" I ask, looking back at the TV.

"Sure."

"Noah left before he finished with the lotion."

He snorts and shakes his head, just like Claire would. But just like his wife, he goes along with my dumb ploy. I have exactly one move: be so pathetic that no one can tell me no.

Soon, I have the third set of Reyes hands on my back in just one day. His are rougher, calloused. Without much effort, he manages to roll my muscles under his strong grip.

"I'm supposed to see Emma in town Thursday," I say, stopping the game again to just lie my head on the mattress and enjoy the moment. "Think you could give me a ride?"

"Yeah, of course," Joel says as his thumbs join the party, digging into my spine. "I need to pick a few things up anyway."

"AC repair going well?" I snort.

"Don't start..."

I would go for another joke, but his palms press into a part of my back I wasn't quite sure existed before today. It's like a knot breaks loose between my shoulder blades. I let out a high-pitched moan and wriggle into his hands.

"Is it okay?" There's worry in Joel's voice.

"Please keep going," I plead.

For the next minutes, I lay it on thick. Trembling moans, little yelps. I'm not sure what's come over me, but it seems to work. Every one of my teases urges his touch to be even more invasive, more possessive.

My thighs rub against one another. I can feel myself getting wet in real time. The throbbing between my legs is a much better sensation than the bitter jealousy from earlier. I need more of that.

I sneak a peek over my shoulder. Yeah, there's a bulge in his shorts. My heart is beating so strong. It feels like I'm an entirely different person, like I'm watching myself as I roll over the mattress, ignoring the slight sting when I land on my back.

My head is right on his lap. He's too busy drinking in my body to say anything.

With shaky hands, I unzip his shorts. Joel exhales as I pull down his underwear.

His cock springs free. It's hard, foreskin pulled back. A strong, musky scent wafts from it, and my mind goes blank. Somehow, my mouth ends up around his head.

The shaft is rigid but soft as it slides between my lips. I moan into it from the taste and the sheer enormity of blowing him on Noah's bed.

"Wait, wait," he pants, gently pulling my head off.

Joel's panicked voice drains the built-up arousal from my body. A string of spit lingers between my lips and his crotch, which he wipes away with the back of his hand. I'm on the verge of tears.

"What are you doing?" He asks, sounding concerned.

"I... Don't you want me?"

He pulls back onto the mattress, putting a bit of space between us. Still, he keeps his fingers running through my hair. My eyes flutter. I need to keep the tears away.

"You can't just jump on Claire or me every time Noah ignores you," he says in a soft voice.

His words sting. There's a kernel of truth there. I would never have predicted I'd try something with him when I woke up today.

But now that I had a taste. Now that it's a possibility. I do want him. To be under him, just as I watched Claire do.

"It's not that," I say like a petulant child.

"Really?" he chuckles, still stroking my hair.

"I thought you said both you and Claire could have your fun?"

Joel's dark eyes stay on me, deep in thought.

"If you want me to fuck you, you just have to ask," he says. I'm shocked by how direct his words are. "You don't pull some touchy-feely excuse.Oh I need lotion.Sounds familiar?"

I ugly laugh at his terrible impression. But nod. "I guess."

"You've got no idea what you're doing to me. Just try to think things through a bit more."