Page 92 of Them Bones

Jerry. Jerry is here.Shane’s brain fought for control but he couldn’t make sense of what was going on. There was the sound of someone moving around, putting on boots, a door opening and closing.Dustin is leaving. Dustin left the room.

“Don’t know why anyone in their right mind wants a damned ice cream cake inDecember…” Jerry was grumbling to himself under his breath, the sound of cupboard drawers opening and closing. “I know I have candles somewhere…”

She gripped him tighter, moved faster, her eyes glued to his face which was now covered in a sheen of sweat, his lips pressed together to keep from moaning.

Oh fuck oh fuck ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck…

“You kids ready for cake?” Jerry called.

“Almost,” Laney said, a wicked glint in her eye. He started to panic and tried to push her hand away but out of nowhere her other hand slipped into his pants too, cupped his balls, and he came instantly.

He could hear talking, Laney and Jerry having some kind of conversation while his brain shorted out and his dick kicked like a mule, dripping cum all over her hand and coating the inside of his pants, the tendons in his forearms and neck stretched so tight they could snap.

It went on, and on, almost to the point of embarrassment as his brain fog started to dissipate and his senses returned, and he realized he was still creaming himself.

“Here they are!” Jerry said, holding up a pack of birthday candles.

He reached beneath the covers and yanked her hand out of his pants, standing up angrily, keeping the blanket in front of him to cover the evidence, and hurried to his room.

“I’ll be right back,” he mumbled.

“Me too,” Laney sang, and he heard her footsteps following him down the hall.

He stripped in the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and quickly wetting it, trying to clean himself up. Laney pushed the door open and his hand shot out, preventing her from opening it.

“Let me in,” she whispered.

“Give me a minute to clean up, for Christ sake…”

“I need to clean up, too,” she whispered, sticking her cum-soaked hand in through the three-inch gap and waggling it at him.

“Give me a fucking minute, Laney!” he hissed. Her hand disappeared and he shut the door, hard.

He slumped against the wall, pant-less, holding a washcloth to his dick, and felt such a wave of shame it made him nauseated.

With Jerry right there… What the hell is wrong with her! What the hell is wrong with me?!

He gritted his teeth, searching the bathroom laundry basket for another pair of pants. He pulled his jeans on commando and stormed into the hall.

“All yours,” he said with a grimace, flourishing his hand at the bathroom entrance.

His bad mood bounced right off her as she skipped into the bathroom with a tuneless whistle, and he heard the tap come on.

He wanted to hit something.

Instead, he threw the cum-soaked washcloth into his bedroom and stomped down the hall for cake.

DUSTIN

Shane was mad at Laney, but Dustin didn’t know why. And Laney seemed to think it was funny.

She blew out the birthday candles on her ice cream cake, cutting enormous pieces for everyone that gave them all brain freeze, and then Jerry said it was time to go.

Dustin expected Laney to sulk or put up a fight. It was probably the only night of the year she could get away with not coming home and not risking getting in trouble for it, so he’d assumed they’d be spending the night. But she packed up her things, put on her coat, and climbed into Shane’s truck without a fuss.

Shane drove them home without a word, his stony silence starkly contrasted byAll I Want For Christmasplaying on the radio. Laney’s hands clutched Shane’s arm as she laid her head on his shoulder, shifting slightly every time he changed gears.

“Shane, come on… don’t be mad…”

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