Page 53 of Huge Games

I follow her inside, enjoying the way her ass looks in camel-colored sweatpants. Her feet are bare, and her toes are painted in a light orange, reminding me of her original hair color.

The home is filled with warmth. Family photos are on practically every wall and surface, kiddie paintings spread over the refrigerator, and toys littering the area in front of the TV. Celine has her books spread out over the kitchen island, but she walks past them and into a small side room. "I'll put these into the washer first. Hopefully, there's a fast wash setting so we can get them dried before you leave."

"Your sister won't mind?"

"Marie is grateful that I drop everything whenever she needs me."

I wince as Celine pulls my training clothes out of the bag and stuffs them into the drum. Coach has us working hard, and my stuff is usually wet by the time I'm done. Wet and stinky. "Doesn't your mom do this stuff for you?" she asks.

I don't reply because telling Celine anything about my family is off tonight's agenda. "This is a nice house. Has your sister lived here long?"

Celine twists to look at me, then stands to shut the washer door. "A couple of years. They moved here when she was pregnant with Lonie. They wanted a yard for her to play in."

Her boobs look good in her white V-neck shirt. It shows off her creamy cleavage, dusted with pretty freckles.

"Makes sense."

I saunter back into the kitchen and take a seat on a stool next to the one Celine vacated to open the door.

"So, tell me what you need."

She takes a seat and begins to explain the areas of confusion. It's nothing I find difficult, so I do my best to go through each point step by step. She takes notes in scribbled handwriting that I struggle to read. Maybe that's her problem. She can't read her own writing.

After thirty minutes, I see her eyes light up. "Oh my god, I get it."

I shrug one shoulder and then stretch my arms over my head, leaning so my spine bends and my back cracks. My body aches from training, but the ache in my balls is something else entirely. That's good. You ready to fuck now?"

Her narrowed gaze only narrows further when I snort. I make my pecs jump, first one, then the other, knowing it's a douche move that is going to piss her off.

It does.

"Can you chill out? My niece is asleep upstairs."

"Is she in a crib?"

"Yes." Confusion clouds her expression.

"So, she can't come down."

"Elias. I’m not fucking you on my sister's couch."

"You're obviously not an experienced babysitter, Celine. That's the standard protocol for every babysitter I've ever had."

"You fucked your babysitters?" The horror she feels makes her mouth drop open.

"Not the old ones. Fuck, that's gross. The hot ones, sure."

"How old were you?"

"I don't know…twelve…thirteen. Not old enough to stay at home by myself."

Her hand flies to her mouth. "You fucked your babysitter when you were twelve? Had you even gone through puberty?"

I shrug. I don't remember when I became capable of fucking. The first time was an accident. Our neighbor, Justine, came over when Mom had to go to the hospital in the middle of the night. She was fifteen, and we hung out together on the sofa. We put the TV on, and there is a film that must have been rated way above our age. Somehow, we ended up fumbling around, and I ended up sticking my dick between her legs.

I remember feeling like I was in a dream. Afterward, she arranged her clothes, and we sat next to each other like nothing happened.

Her family moved that fall, and looking back, I wonder how she was so cool about what we did. Most likely, something bad was going on in her house. Looking back, the signs seem clear, but at the time, I was stuck in myhead and swamped by my own problems. I don't tell Celine any of it.

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