This choice: Argue Caleb into giving up on Chelsea's plans • Go Back...Chapter #69Coups Within Coups by: Seuzz   "Dude!" you exclaim, although Caleb—with his soft, golden hair, his pillowy lips, and his expansive bosoms—is looking very un-dude-ish at the moment. "That's how come I wanted you, uh, to you know." You point up and down his figure. "Be Chelsea," you finally gulp out. "So you could dial down the whole 'hate-Cindy' thing she's got going!"
He gives you a look. "Are you saying you had ulterior motives when you told me you'd help get Chelsea?"
"Yes!"
Caleb stares at you, then rolls his eyes. "Fine," he grunts. "I should've known. At least it's better than the blow job I was half-expecting you to ask for." He does a double-take into the rear view mirror, and adjusts it. "But you have to tell Cindy to start being nice to me too," he continues as he gives himself a look-over. "And that means letting me keep on keeping what I got now. We grabbed these bodies 'cos we want to enjoy them, right?" He puckers his lips at the mirror, then grabs and adjusts his breasts. "God! I need to get home and into the bathtub so I can touch myself all over!" He flashes you a hooded look. "Makes me feel sorry for you, you know. Best you get to do is manhandle Seth Javits's cock."
"You sure are turning out to be a bitch."
"Asshole."
"Cocksucker. Yeah!" you bark before he can hurl another insult at you. "Just try not to think about what Gordon's cock tasted like!"
Caleb's eyes pop. "You—! Eugh! Get out!" He slaps at you, hard, with both hands. "Get out! Now I'm gonna have nightmares!"
You laugh but hop out of the car. You run around to the driver's side, though, and tap at the window. Caleb rolls down the window. "Promise me you're not going to do that thing Chelsea was going to do to Cindy?"
"If you promise to talk her into not making trouble for me."
"Does Cindy really make trouble for you? For Chelsea, I mean?"
Caleb's mouth twists into a snarl, but he catches himself, and his gaze goes distant. For a minute he stares past your shoulder, so intently that you glance back to see if he's looking at anything behind you. But there's nothing there but your truck and the wall of the library.
"Oh, I don't know," he snaps when you turn back around. "Don't ask me figure out how much of the stuff up here"—he points to his temple—"is legit and how much is just paranoia and ragweed."
"How much is Caleb Johansson?" you can't resist asking.
He narrows his eyes at you, then with a poisonous smile he kisses the tip of his left middle finger, and blows it along the stiffened bird into your face. "Love you, Will!" he shouts as he starts the car. "Go give it to Cindy anally for me! Everyone driving this car would love to hear about that!" He backs out, twists the wheel around, and shoots forward toward the street. You watch until he turns into traffic and disappears.
* * * * *
Well, you really do need to talk to Cindy anyway. It's been a little more than twenty-four hours since her boyfriend has talked to or texted her, and you're beginning to worry that too much time is passing.
So while still parked in front of the library you send her a note asking to meet. You're pleased when she quickly replies to say that she can see you this evening at her place. There's no indication of her mood, and after agonizing over it you decide not to inquire.
You knock at the Vredenburgs' front door at a little after seven. There's a commotion like stampeding buffalo on the other side, then the door is wrenched open. Lucy Vredenburg, Cindy's even sexier older sister, gapes at you for a moment, then glowers balefully into your face.
"Oh, it's you," she says. "Never mind!" she hollers over her shoulder. "I'll text and tell 'em I'm meeting 'em downtown!" She's bigger than her sister, so when she barrels past you, knocking you in the shoulder, you fall half a step back. "Nice seeing you, Lucy," you taunt her as she passes.
"Hey! Dickhead!" You turn, and Lucy flashes you a sour smile. "So you answer when called." She is staring hard at you. "Are you really as big of a dick as people say you are?"
"No, my dick's just as big as they say it is," you retort. Seth has never understood why it is that Lucy has it in for him, and you see no reason not to indulge his own instinct to jeer back at her.
"Oh, rinky dinky, then." But she cocks her head, and studies you appraisingly. "I dunno," she says at last, and there seems a glimmer of appreciation in her eye. "Maybe we should go hang out sometime, just once, to find out if you've got any redeemable qualities. Cindy—" She breaks off.
"What about Cindy?" you ask. But without answering or amplifying anything she has said, Lucy turns and stalks down the sidewalk. She was a cheerleader, like her sister, two years ago at Westside, and she was captain of the squad. Since moving up to Keyserling College, it's like she has only gotten stronger, sexier, and more toned, and you can't help boggling a little at her ass as she strides away.
"Lucy?" a voice calls from inside, and you quickly swing around and jump into the Vredenburg's foyer, slamming the door behind you. Cindy appears at the foot of the staircase, and you smile at her.
"That was me at the door," you tell her. "Lucy took off when she, uh, saw me." You feel your smile fade. "Hey."
"Hey," she replies. But she smiles too, though it looks a little pale. She twists a strand of hair behind her ear, and looks around. "So, come on up— No." She looks around again, then steps off the lowest stair. "We'll go in the sitting room."
You wilt a little. Bedroom means a hard makeout session. Sitting room means polite talk, at best. You can't help comparing Cindy's ass to Lucy's as you follow her through the living room and through a wide, open archway. Cindy is a lot more lithe. But Lucy would promise you something to hold on to. She's probably much more of a tiger in the sack, too; and now that you think about it (with Seth's memories) you do remember hearing rumors about some deep-throated screaming that would echo through the gym rafters when Lucy was entertaining an admirer up in the fuck room.
You shake yourself free of these thoughts as Cindy gestures you into a low-slung arm chair. With its zebra-pattern cushions, it's the only vaguely masculine thing in a room of chintz, ceramic figures, and fringed clothes draped over the end tables and the tops of the sofa and rockers. The walls and furniture are decorated in greens and pinks that are the color and texture of cake frosting, too. You have a vague memory of being told that it was decorated by Cindy's late grandmother to resemble her old home when she briefly moved in with the family when Cindy and Lucy were little.
You settle deeply into the chair—was it Cindy's grandfather's? you vaguely wonder—and expect Cindy to take the sofa. But instead she puts her knee between your thighs, balances herself on the arms of the chair, and leans over to give you a soft, luscious (but tongue-free) kiss. "Oh wow," you gasp as she pulls away with a hooded smile. "That was, uh ... Not what I was expecting."
"I'm sorry I blew up at you," she says. "I know you'd never, you know, do anything to hurt me."
"No. No, I wouldn't." It comes out as a squeak, for your cock is quickly stiffening. Cindy is still balancing atop you, only without touching you, and you gulp as you imagine her falling onto you with her mouth open, and her legs open, squirming to pull down her panties with one hand while tugging at the hem of your shorts with the other.
You've got the second-most gorgeous cheerleader at Westside High looming over you, and she is this close to letting you crush her in your arms and with your hands. And all you had to do was turn yourself into Seth Javits to get it!
Her smile turns puckish. "Anyway," she purrs, "it's not like you'd ever really want to date Chelsea. Right?"
"Oh God! Uh. No! What I mean is—" You gulp again as Cindy's eyebrows peak. "That's never gonna happen." On impulse you clasp her about the waist, and you feel a shiver run through her. "Why would I want that when I've got you?"
"Tch," she says. "And I thought I almost got you into saying something bad again. We could have had another fight. It's fun making up after we fight."
"Uh ... Yeah!"
She smiles, and there's a very liquid surge in your cock.
But instead of falling onto you she straightens up. "Well," she sighs, "I won't have to worry much about Chelsea after tomorrow. Not after she quits the squad."
She turns sharply at your yelp. "Something wrong?" she asks. "You didn't sit on a needle or anything, did you?"
"No, I—! What did you just say? About Chelsea quitting the squad?"
"I made a deal with Kendra. That's where I was this afternoon, talking with her and Yumi and—" She sighs. "And Lin and Eva and Jessica and yada bladdah blah." Her expression turns wistful. "There's going to be a vote of confidence at practice tomorrow, and Chelsea's going to lose it. Kendra and Michelle are going to vote against her."
Her eyes turn wet. "Kendra gets to be the new squad captain, though," she says, and there's a little squeak in her voice. "That's her price for helping us finally getting rid of Chelsea. But it'll be worth it, I think, 'cos there's no way Chelsea's going to stay on the squad after we can her ass."
She sniffs. "Oh, Seth," she groans as you boggle at her. "Do please tell me that you never wanted to date the head cheerleader!"  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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