Editor's note: this story contains scenes of rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, or non-consensual sex.

Author's Notes:

Anvil is a walk down a path strictly forbidden by 'polite' society.

Incest.

Few taboos are more reviled, and those who succumb to the trap of its feverish desires, face being judged and damned by those who uncover their 'sin'. Shunning is the smallest consequence of being exposed.

The story revolves around two damaged souls who suffered through the absence of love when it was needed most, then were betrayed in the most horrifying ways by those entrusted to nurture and cherish them.

There are some dark subjects and moments in this story, but again, at its heart, it's a story of the healing power of love. Perhaps it's a love few can accept, at least not without intense guilt.

Consider yourself... cautioned.

All characters engaging in sexual relationships or activities are 18 years old or older.

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Anvil

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Chapter 1

Do popcorn ceilings lead to madness?

It was a hell of a thought to wake to every morning, Cassandra mused to herself as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

She desperately wished someone would scrape the crap from her apartment ceilings.

As she was living in a cheap rental apartment, no such renovations would happen anytime soon.

Her alarm had gone off only a minute or two ago, so she wasn't late, but she had to get up and get started on her day.

Cassandra worked as a teller at a bank, and she needed the paycheck. That was a truth she had to accept. It was also true that the bank manager was a misogynistic bastard with an overinflated ego.

Another truth she was dealing with was that she was bored with the job, as it barely scraped the surface of her capabilities, though it paid the bills. Barely.

When she finished her night school college courses, she'd be able to get a better job, but for now, she had to get up!

With a quiet groan, she slid her legs out from under the covers and tossed the covers back. She pushed herself up to a seated position and paused to let the throbbing in her head settle down. She'd gone out drinking the night before with some of the girls from night school. She didn't really fit into their clique, but she had no other friends to go out drinking with. She was relatively new in town, after all.

Heaving herself onto her feet, she staggered from her bedroom to the bathroom in the hall. Her small one-bedroom apartment also had one washroom. She listened, but Andre was still asleep. She'd be okay to take her shower now.

She closed the door and tugged off her sleep shirt. Looking down, she realized she wasn't wearing her panties.

Damn. Did she hook up with one of those idiotic college boys again?

She paused, and the evening before came back to her. Retaining her memories meant she hadn't indulged too far past her limit. Dancing... she recalled there'd been dancing, and she did do a little bumping and grinding, but that was it for sexual activity.

She sighed. It was becoming her thing. Sexual frustration, even when she hooked up with someone. None of them gave her satisfaction. Frigid bitch, the last prime specimen called her.

It wasn't like she didn't want to enjoy sex with a sexy man. Something seemed to block her from reaching her release.

She could definitely achieve an orgasm if she masturbated with her dildo, so it didn't seem to be a physical issue.

Cassandra critically examined the woman in the mirror, and the first thing she saw was that nose! It had a dorsal hump that made her feel like it dominated her face! She often swept her long straight blonde hair forward to cover one eye and her nose. Her attention moved to her eyes, which again seemed a little oversized for her face. They did have a sleepy bedroom quality that made the boys ignore her nose, so she didn't hate her eyes. They were pale blue with a darker ring around the outside of her irises. Yes, she didn't hate them.

Her mouth was wide, but her lips weren't thin, so it balanced out. Baring her teeth, she examined them in the mirror. She lucked out with how straight they were, as her father had several crooked ones.

A sudden flash of rage shot through her, and she gripped the countertop to keep her balance. She knew better than to think of the monster.

Stepping into the shower, she ran the water and quickly washed her pale-yellow hair, which hung down to mid-back. Scrubbing her pale skin, she assumed she must have gotten her coloring from her mother as well. Not that she had any memories of her.

She shook her head and climbed out of the tub to dry herself off. Wrapping the towel around her, she wished it was a beach towel as it barely fit around her thick body. She wasn't fat per se, just extra cushioned... in select places. Her breasts, hips, and ass were just more generously cushioned and made her delightfully curvy. She'd caught Andre staring more than once. She squirmed at the thought.

As well as being a little thick, she was fairly tall at five-foot-nine. She was two inches taller than Andre.

After she brushed her teeth and hair, she listened at the door but heard nothing. She stepped out and looked down the hall toward the living room. Still nothing, so she quickly went into her bedroom and closed the door.

She didn't spend too much time on her makeup, as it had to be understated in a business environment. Just some eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick, but not a bold color.

Panties, bra, nylons, slip, grey stretchy pencil skirt, and cream blouse went on, and she looked like a bank teller. She pulled on the grey jacket for her outfit and picked up her shoes, as she wouldn't put them on until she got to the bank.

Leaving her bedroom, she padded down the hall and slipped into the tiny kitchen to unplug her cell. It went into the purse she'd left on the counter. She looked in the fridge and smiled as there was the brown bag lunch Andre made for her the night before. It would be a cheese-lettuce-and-tomato sandwich, but the tomatoes would be in a separate plastic sandwich bag to keep the bread from becoming soggy. Mayo and black pepper to her taste. There'd be a pudding cup, a plastic spoon, and napkins in the bag, too. She took the bag from the fridge and added it to her carryall sack with her work shoes and paperback.

Before she left the kitchen, she peered around the corner to smile at her sleeping brother.

Andre slept on the sofa bed in the living room and kept his clothes in an old dresser, which doubled as the TV stand.

She paused as she saw he'd kicked his blankets down to the bottom of the bed. Her eyes were trapped by the sight of his hard muscles. He only wore running shorts to bed, so his body was on display.

Where she was blonde and fair-skinned, Andre was dark. His hair was jet black, straight, and long. It reached his lower back, and currently, it was flowing across his pillow and face. His skin had an olive complexion and was stretched tight over his well-defined musculature. Where she was cushioned all over, he had no fat to hide the contour of each and every hard muscle. They seemed like slabs of polished stone.

No, his body was more like cast steel, as he'd endured the endless hammer blows life sent his way. His childhood hadn't been gentle, but neither had hers been. They'd both been through the crucible and emerged damaged in their own ways but not broken.

Cassandra shook these dark thoughts from her mind and allowed her eyes the guilty pleasure of admiring the beautiful man before her.

Other than his luxurious hair, there seemed to be no softness to him at all, from the strong jawline seen through the curtain of hair down to his--her eyes were trapped by the tenting of his shorts.

When she realized she was staring, she pulled herself back into the kitchen and grabbed her purse, carry bag, and keys.

Face burning, she slipped her runners on at the door and stepped out into the hall to lock the door. She thumped it closed a little harder than she'd intended and hoped she hadn't woken Andre.

"Damn! That's a fine bubble butt!"

Jolting slightly at the sudden voice from across the hall, she turned to glare at her neighbor, once more feeling the stab of regret for sleeping with the man in a moment of weakness.

"Piss off, TJ," she said to the tall Tobagonian who was leering at her as he leaned against his doorjamb.

"Aww, don't be like that first thing in the morning," he said with a sly chuckle. "You know we had a good time."

She gave him a weary look. "I was too drunk to remember, and that seems like a tender mercy right now." Her eyes dropped to see he was stroking the front of his jeans. There was a bulge there, but for a moment, her mind drew her back to the memory of her brother's tented running shorts. That... seemed more substantial. She yanked her mind from the memory and saw TJ's leer had grown. She turned and flipped him the bird as she walked toward the stairs. Hearing his chuckle sent a shiver up her spine. How could she have been so stupid? He was a drug dealer! Granted, she hadn't known that at the time. She just knew that he was an orderly at the hospital.

Leaving the building, she hustled to get to the bus stop just before it arrived. She got a seat next to the window and glanced up at her apartment window as the bus passed. A stab of guilt passed through her with a chaser of tingles as her mind took her back to an image of Andre's body.

She looked straight ahead as she cursed her uncontrollable sex drive. There had to be boundaries!

Chapter 2

The thump of the front door pulled Andre from the depths of sleep and a really hot dream. He stretched and enjoyed the tingles going through his body. He opened his eyes, and they immediately began tracing the thin cracks in the cheap plaster above as he thought of how Cassandra hated it. He sighed.

He looked down and saw he'd kicked the sheets off. He also noticed he was at full mast and poking straight up.

SHIT!

He looked to the door, and a jolt of guilt and fear shot through him. Did she see?

Andre desperately didn't want to offend Cassandra. When she took him in two years ago, he'd been in a horrible place in his life, and she'd saved him. He owed her so much, and he needed her! When she let him live with her in her small apartment, he immediately worked on making himself useful to her.

He cleaned the apartment, made the meals, did their laundry, and shopped for their groceries. These were skills his last stepmother had trained him to do.

His mind tried to shy away from memories of Gloria. While she'd been his third mother, she'd had the largest impact on his life.

To discipline his errant thoughts, he got up and made the bed before folding it back into its sofa configuration. Cushions back in place and throw pillows positioned and fluffed, he grabbed a pair of fresh underwear from his bureau and walked down the hall to the bathroom.

Tugging his sleep shorts off, he saw he was still partially erect, and his mind went back to the dream he'd been having before waking. He felt a familiar throb, and his cock began rising once more. He stepped into the shower and tried ignoring it as he washed his hair and body, but it wouldn't be denied.

He took himself in hand and stroked slowly as he allowed his mind to return to the guilty images of Cassandra in a tight t-shirt and her yoga pants. His hands ached to touch those delicious curves. He braced himself against the wall as his hand moved faster and faster until he groaned and felt the release explode through his senses.

As he panted, his guilt came crashing down on him for thinking of his sister in that way.

He couldn't explain why she affected him like she did. All he could do was try to keep these feelings to himself and show his appreciation of her in every way he could.

He stepped from the shower, dried off, and tugged on his underwear. Then he cleaned and tidied the bathroom until it sparkled.

Andre walked back to the living room and got dressed for school. He pulled a black, long-sleeved t-shirt from his drawer and put it on, lifting his hair free of the shirt. Then he tugged on some black sport-socks and his baggy black jeans. Home was the only place where he didn't keep his body hidden. His bulky black hoodie on the hook by the door would go over the tight t-shirt.

Moving to the kitchen, he made himself a slice of peanut butter toast and wolfed it down. He unplugged his cell and checked it for messages. There was one call from his boss, Travis, asking him if he could work the Saturday shift in two days. It was a typical last-minute request from him, but he called the man to leave a message accepting the shift as the money was welcome.

He worked part-time in the stock room of a big-box electronics store and was doing his best to become indispensable to his boss. He'd assisted the man in reorganizing the inventory to make it easier to find, easier to collect with heavier items on the lower shelves, and the most popular items in the easiest to access bins they called their trending area. Whenever a new shipment was scheduled to arrive, Travis made sure he called Andre in to restock the back shelves. Sometimes, Andre would do closing to midnight shifts to fill the gaps in the store shelves. He was fast, meticulous, and efficient.

His employer didn't know that Andre had compulsions that drove him to organize and arrange things in precise ways, and he didn't spend his work hours socializing because he couldn't. Relating to people was something Andre struggled with, so he did the work and went home.

He stuffed his cell in a pocket and his keys in the other before heading back to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Once ready, he grabbed his hoodie, slipped it on, slung his school backpack over his shoulder, and put on his black work boots. He left the apartment and locked it up. His earbuds were pulled from the sweater's pocket, connected to his cell, and popped into his ears before he began walking. His music was a mix of Heavy, Gothic, Thrash, Death, and Black Metal. He found it helped calm his mind, keeping it occupied and distracted from the zillions of other inputs pouring in. With the beat of Metallica's Creeping Death providing the soundtrack, he left the building and walked to school.

The sun warmed his face as he went, and the breeze carried the smell of exhaust, cooking, flowers, and less appealing odors. A young boy ran across the street ahead, a car revved its engine behind, sunlight flashed off the chrome rims of a bicycle passing by, and birds chirped. These and dozens of other sensory inputs vied for Andre's immediate attention.

When he was much younger, this torrent of information would overwhelm him, and he'd hide in the basement. It was on such a day that Cassandra saved him for the first time. He felt the pressure building and cried when he discovered his father had locked the basement door. Cassandra feared her father would punish him for his bawling, so she dragged him behind the big chair in the corner of the living room, wrapped her arms around him, and held him tight against her body. His ear was pressed against her chest, and he could hear her heart beating fast and loud. Andre focused his attention on this wonderful sound, and soon the rest faded into the background. He could catch his breath again, and his mind calmed.

From that day onward, he would seek Cassandra when the torrent was too much. If she wasn't there, he would sit in front of a radio and listen to music, concentrating on the sound. He discovered stronger music was easier for him to focus on. Gradually, he learned to focus on selected external stimuli, such as someone speaking to him, even while music was playing in his ears. He reaped the rewards of higher grades in school by honing this mental discipline of tight focus and combining it with his keen intelligence and absolute recall.

He'd be a little early today, but he'd use the time to read in the library. He'd already read all his course material and completed all the textbook lessons. His eidetic memory wouldn't let him forget something once he reviewed it.

The only classes he had difficulty with were those where the material required subjective interpretations, like this year's Art course and last year's English class.

Since he came to live with Cassandra, she'd been helping him create responses the English and Art class teachers would respond positively to. She'd look up the teachers online and build a profile on them to identify their values. Then she'd review his course material and give him some bullet points he could use in class if called upon. He was learning to game the system thanks to his sister.

With his baggy black clothes, his hood pulled up between classes, and the earphone cable leading from his inner pocket and hidden by his hair, people tended to ignore him so he could move through them without having to interact with any of them. He found people stuck to their own cliques, and that suited him fine.

He didn't join clubs, after-school activities, or play sports. He did his best to slide through unnoticed.

His teachers noticed him, though. With mostly perfect grades, aside from the problematic Art class, he was on track for a scholarship. The other students would cast looks at him if the teachers made a point of identifying he'd got another perfect grade. He did his best to ignore them in return.

The library only had a few people in it at this hour, so he found an empty table and prepared to spend a half-hour reading.

He'd just settled in when he saw someone stop behind the chair on the other side of his table. He tried to ignore them, but he heard them say something to him. He plucked the earbuds out and glanced up. He froze when he saw it was his art teacher.

Ms. Rubio was a lovely Hispanic woman in her early thirties. He assumed she was a very talented artist, as he'd seen books in her class that had paintings of hers in them. She was carrying another art book and was smiling at him, so he looked away.

"Mr. Marin? May I speak with you for a moment?" she asked gently.

He glanced at her again, then down at the table as he nodded. He had no justification for sending her away.

"I was approached by the vice-principal, who was reviewing student grades for this semester and brought to my attention that you have been doing exceptionally well in all your classes except for mine. He was wondering if there was a problem. I wasn't aware that my course was your only challenge." She looked at him for a response.

Andre thought quickly. He knew his grade wasn't spectacular in her class, but with Cassandra's help, he was getting a B minus to C plus on tests and assignments. That seemed good enough to pass. "I thought I was doing okay in your class," he admitted.

She showed him a little frown and tilted her head down to get him to look at her again, briefly. "I'm afraid your last assignment received a failing grade. You seemed to be confused about the theme of the paintings, and your answers didn't seem to match the questions. This has made me go back to review your previous assessments, and I found a startling pattern. You seem to give me pre-defined answers to my questions and the same answers in the same order. I have to admit, I missed it when I graded the assignments. They looked like answers, but now I see they weren't genuine."

Andre glanced at her as a cold sweat began to form on his back. "I-I wasn't cheating--"

"I don't mean to imply you were." She opened the large art book and flipped the pages to stop at a page showing Edvard Munch's The Scream. "What do you think of this painting?" she asked as she watched him intently.

He recalled them talking about the famous painting in class. "Expressionist Edvard Munch painted The Scream in 1893 in Oslo, Norway. He was important--"

"No, Andre. I'm not looking for historical facts. I'm asking for your impression of the painting. Your interpretation of what it's saying emotionally," the teacher corrected gently.

He stared at the desk surface and remained quiet. It was a painting of a cartoonish figure screaming. He didn't know what to say. He knew he wouldn't get away with using one of the answers he'd used on the assignments.

She turned the page to Gustav Klimt's painting, The Kiss. All the facts popped into Andre's head, but he knew she wasn't interested in hearing them.

She looked at him with a sad expression and closed the book. "I have a nephew who has the same difficulty with connecting emotions and expressing--"

"I'm nervous. You're making me feel very uncomfortable," he blurted defiantly.

Her brows rose in surprise. "Oh! I'm sorry. It wasn't my intent. I'm just trying to determine what challenges you're having in my class. You aren't exactly the same as my nephew, but there's a large gradient on the spectrum. You must be very close to the top, as you seem to have no difficulty with most activities," she said gently.

He blinked at her in confusion.

She paused as she saw he didn't know what she was talking about. "Have you not spoken with a doctor about this?"

He frowned as she was making no sense, and he was growing more nervous by the second. "I've been to the hospital before. I've seen doctors," he snapped. He began preparing to leave.

She saw she wasn't connecting with him, so she'd just let him go for now and keep an eye on him in her class. She believed she understood now and would compensate for his condition. She decided she would revise and resubmit his class marks. He was doing very well on the elements he could do, so he deserved to have this reflected in his grade. She stood, and his eyes flicked to her once more nervously. "That's all I wanted to speak to you about. See you in class tomorrow?"

He stopped moving and looked at her again, then nodded.

She turned and left, and he watched her go. He glanced up at the clock. His half-hour of peaceful reading wasn't going to happen now. He needed to walk off his stress. He put his earbuds back in and left the library. He made it outside and walked around the block a few times until he felt himself recenter.

It was time for class.

Chapter 3

Cassandra gave her departing customer a professional smile, immediately turned off the light at her wicket, and locked her drawer. She ignored the scowls of the customers waiting in the line and headed for the hallway leading to the basement lunchroom. Two of the other tellers were sitting at a table together, talking and finishing up their lunch. They should have returned to work minutes ago to free her to leave on hers. She'd waited long enough.

They glanced at her, and their eyes immediately went to the wall clock.

"Shit! We're late!" Wendy cursed.

"Yes, you are," she commented over her shoulder as she went to the fridge to get her lunch.

She heard them scrambling to tidy up and the whispered bitch from Wendy, which wasn't unexpected from her. Helen snorted and stifled her laughter. They hustled out of the lunchroom to get back up to their stations. Not that they were in any danger of being challenged by the manager. Wendy and Helen would just bat their eyelashes at him and preen for his leering eyes, and he'd let it slide.

Cassandra ensured she wasn't late, completed her work on time, offered the bank's services to the customers each time they approached her wicket, regardless of their need or interest in them, and maintained a professional attitude throughout her business day. She had the best rating for sales amongst the tellers aside from Hamesh, who was a terrible flirt with the older ladies who approached his wicket.

Truthfully, Cassandra didn't care how much she sold and didn't want top spot on that leaderboard. This job was just a placeholder for her, but she would ensure she received an excellent referral.

Retrieving the lunch Andre made for her, she stopped by the TV mounted on the wall and turned the volume down. She didn't need to hear the news while she read her book. No one else would join her for the late lunch period.

She sat at the table in the corner, facing the door, and she pulled out her paperback.

She took the sandwich out of the bag and added the fresh tomato slices. Her first bite was heaven. He knew exactly how much mayo and how much pepper to add. She ate slowly to draw as much pleasure from her small meal as possible. Andre was a treasure!

Something flashed on the TV screen and caught her eye. It was a local story of child abuse being exposed.

Invading her peaceful thoughts, her memories of the police arriving at her apartment two years ago surfaced.

It had been so unexpected. The officers first confirmed she was the sister of Andre Volkov and took her to the hospital, where they said he was recovering from a beating.

All the way there, she was thinking of her father's hot temper and was terrified to see the damage he'd done to the skinny little boy she'd last seen three years earlier.

When she'd been guided to the exam room where Andre was resting on the bed, she'd locked up as she'd thought they'd taken her to the wrong room. The man stretched out on the bed was a complete stranger. The skinny and frail thirteen-year-old boy she recalled was now a muscular and handsome sixteen-year-old young man, aside from the black eyes, bruises, and the broken nose. The muscles were the most surprising of all.

When his eyes turned and locked on hers, she felt that connection like a physical jolt. She saw him then. The boy she remembered was inside those eyes, and he was desperately sad. She'd immediately moved forward and gently kissed his forehead. She didn't know where to put her hands, as he was so bruised.

Finally, she just took his hands in hers. His eyes were very glassy as he'd been given painkillers, but she saw the joy in them, and that filled her with a happiness she'd forgotten she could feel. When she blinked away her tears, she saw he was asleep. She stared at the damage that monster had done to her brother and felt her rage slipping free. She turned to face a nurse who was waiting inside the drawn privacy curtain. That seemed a little odd.

"Where is he? He won't get away with beating Andre like this," Cassandra said softly, to not wake him.

The nurse shook her head and gestured for her to follow her outside the curtain. She gently released his hands from hers and kissed his forehead again to calm him.

Stepping outside, she looked at the nurse. "I've been with your brother since he was admitted, and he opened up to me. Perhaps because we look similar," the blond nurse added with a small smile, then continued. "Your father didn't beat him. It was his stepmother, Gloria," she said quietly, and Cassandra was rocked by the news. The nurse pressed on. "Andre confessed the woman has been sexually abusing him... for years."

Cassandra broke down and cried on the nurse's shoulder as guilt ripped through her for abandoning her brother in that house of vipers.

The tickle of the tear rolling down her cheek brought her back from her memories. She wiped it away and went back to eating the sandwich he'd made for her. She ate slowly to cherish every bite.

The chocolate pudding he'd packed in the bag satisfied her need for something sweet. She watched her weight and did her best to not overeat. Her only overindulgence was occasional binge drinking. She knew that wasn't healthy, but it was her only outlet for dealing with her frustrations and unhappiness.

Andre was the only bright spot in her life, and she'd failed him so terribly. The man he was today was still very much a stranger to her, as he didn't seem to open up to anyone. He rarely spoke at all.

She couldn't help but feel that was at least partially her fault.

She knew she wouldn't have been able to get him away from her father and Gloria when she left, but she hadn't even tried. The day she fled from that house, she remembered his wide, frightened eyes watching her from the door leading to the basement, where his room was. When their father cursed at her, Andre fled to his room, and to her, it felt like he was abandoning her.

She'd turned her back on her family as well when she left.

Three years later, she took Andre back after his abuse.

After the hours they spent at the hospital, the police took her and Andre back to their father's house to collect Andre's clothes and items because, for the short term, he was going to be in her care.

When they arrived, their father, Pietro Volkov, was drunk but backed off sullenly when the police officers told him not to interfere. Andre went downstairs to pack while she remained in the kitchen. The moment the police stepped outside, Pietro returned to confront her. His rough voice was still clear in her mind.

"I told you to never come back, ungrateful bitch!"

Her temper flared as well, one of her father's gifts. "I wouldn't have had to come back if that fat cow you married hadn't sexually abused Andre! I guess you weren't man enough for her!"

His backhand across her cheek caught her by surprise, and she was knocked to the floor after she crashed into the kitchen counter.

Her rage exploded, and her split lip didn't prevent her mouth from firing another salvo. "So, your cowardice leaves you no other option but to strike women, little man?"

Pietro roared and lunged at her with murder in his eyes.

"NO, PAPA!" Andre yelled and tackled his father before he reached Cassandra. The two fell to the floor, but Andre was only trying to hold his father back from his sister. Pietro turned his frustration and anger on his son. He pinned Andre to the floor and punched his face.

Cassandra tried to stop him and scratched his face before he slapped her off her feet again.

He touched his cheek and looked at his bloody fingers before looking into her eyes. "I should have put you in the ground with Leslie."

Andre tried to break free, but Pietro went back to hitting him.

Cassandra stumbled out of the house and the two officers smoking by their cruiser saw her and came running. They rushed inside and pulled the man from his bloody son. She returned and gently touched Andre's shoulder. He turned bleary eyes toward her, smiled, then passed out.

They went back to the hospital, and Andre had his nose reset once more. When the police interviewed her, Cassandra repeated what her father had said. The officers asked who Leslie was, and she explained.

Leslie Punk was the woman Pietro married before Gloria. She supposedly left him after four years of marriage. One morning, the kids woke to find she was gone. She was friendly but not the nurturing type, preferring to spend most of her time tending her precious vegetable garden behind the house. Cassandra confessed to the police that she hadn't connected the disappearance to her father's forbidding them to work in the garden after Leslie went missing.

As their previous home was in the neighboring state, the police contacted local authorities to dig up the garden. In the meantime, they gathered more information from Cassandra about Pietro's wives.

Before Leslie, Pietro had been married to Eleanor Vandenstein, Andre's birth mother. Cassandra's memories of her were of a nervous woman, always worrying and never happy. She also didn't bond well with children, even her own. She suffered chronic weakness and ultimately committed suicide when Andre was five and Cassandra was nine. She recalled her father scolding the woman about how poor a mother she was compared to Cassandra's mother, Kira, and how prestigious the Marin family was back in his home country of Georgia compared to the Vandenstein's in America.

Cassandra didn't understand then but now realized he was speaking of his wife's family, not his own, the Volkovs. She told the police she had no memories of her own mother as she must have been just a year old when Pietro emigrated to the States with her.

The police continued their investigation while Cassandra brought Andre home from the hospital.

Their first weeks together were rocky. Her guilt tormented her, and she had her habits and a small apartment. Fitting someone else into that led to short tempers and sharp words, but only from her. In a moment of weakness, the memory of how he fled from her when she was forced out of the house caused her to accuse him of abandoning her. She recalled how he dropped to his knees before her as he shook his head vehemently, fear in his eyes and tears on his cheeks. He apologized again and again, and her anger crumbled seeing his genuine distress.

Adding to this pressure, the police investigation found Leslie's body where the garden had been. They also got a court order to exhume Eleanor, and a new autopsy discovered traces of poison throughout her body, proving she'd been slowly poisoned for years.

Their investigation followed Pietro's journey to Poti, Georgia, when the police contacted the local authorities. They learned that a Kira Marin married Pietro Volkov against her family's wishes, had his child, and mysteriously drowned ten months after the birth. The death was listed as suspicious as she'd been a champion swimmer. Then Pietro disappeared with the infant.

Somehow, the sordid tale of her father's trail of dead spouses leaked, and the press fanned the flames of sensationalism until the story became a larger-than-life tale of a rabid serial killer. Someone connected the dots to his latest wife, Gloria Davenport, who'd been arrested on sexual interference charges, and the story went supernova.

The court had no choice but to put the two siblings into protective custody.

Cassandra arranged to have her and Andre's surnames changed to Marin, as she no longer wanted them to be associated with Volkov.

As quickly as it exploded, the story faded when Pietro was found dead in his cell. His cellmate had killed him with a shiv. There would be no trial, and the public's bloodlust seemed to be quenched by his ultimate end.

Gloria pleaded guilty and avoided having to endure a lengthy trial of her own.

The bank Cassandra worked for had a branch with an opening in a decent-sized city in a neighboring state, so they offered her a teller position there, and she accepted. She found another inexpensive one-bedroom apartment, as it was all she could afford, and they moved. She enrolled Andre in the local high school to finish his last year. His school transcript showed his grades were excellent, so the school was pleased to get him.

They managed to slip into their new life with relatively few ripples, and they kept their heads down.

Cassandra folded her lunch bag and put it into her carryall with her book as she looked up at the wall clock. It was almost time to go back to her wicket. She'd spent her lunch hour lost in her memories and not happy ones at that.

Then she remembered Andre was going to make her dinner tonight.

That brought a smile back to her face.

Chapter 4

Andre successfully endured another morning of classes and avoided the drama the other students seemed to thrive on. This avoidance wasn't made any easier by the fact that student seating in the classrooms was arranged alphabetically by surname in rows. The A's to D's got the coveted window row, and the S's to Z's got the row furthest from the daylight. While he would've preferred to sit at the back of the class as he'd managed in his last school, here, he was somewhere near the middle, surrounded by MacGraw and Martine, ahead and behind, and Harrison and Rossini left and right. The worst part about that was these names belonged to a clique of chatty cheerleaders. They weren't too pleased about his proximity, either. He knew that at least two, maybe three, of these ladies had boyfriends in the classroom, as he'd received glares from some of the male students, too.

The morning classes were behind him, so he put it out of his mind. He had an hour until his next class, as he didn't eat lunch. Typically, he'd hang out in the library, but this morning's visit from Ms. Rubio soured the appeal of going there now. He could find a spot outside to read his chemistry notes, as there was a quiz this afternoon, but there wasn't any actual need to go over the material again.

As he stopped next to his locker to drop off his morning's books, he saw Mr. Garlin, the Phys Ed teacher, standing a few feet away next to the open doorway to the new weight room the school set up. Andre peered inside the room at the machines. He felt a familiar itch as he saw the stacked plates.

"Mr. Marin! You think you might sign up for the weight-lifting team if it means you get to work out on the new equipment?" the man said louder than required for their proximity. Rumor was the teacher was partially deaf.

The gym teacher was frustrated that Andre never signed up for any of his organized sports. While Andre took Phys Ed class for the exercise, the teacher noticed he avoided anything involving teams. The keen-eyed teacher knew he was fit.

Andre glanced at Mr. Garlin and shrugged as his eyes immediately returned to the machines. He really wanted to use them.

When Cassandra was forced to leave home, Gloria turned her attention to the scrawny boy in her basement. She chastised him for being weak and skinny. She brought home free weights and books on bodybuilding. She created a program and a schedule for him to follow and forced him to train. After each workout, she'd feel his muscles to see how much they'd grown. This involved a lot of touching, and he hated that part, but she told him his father wanted him to become stronger and put her in charge. She'd demean him about how weak and puny his muscles were after every workout.

When he began showing signs of improvement, Gloria increased the intensity of his workouts. It was painful, and he'd be weak as a kitten after each session. Then she'd begin touching him again, which hurt his strained muscles, but he was helpless to stop her.

Eventually, he outgrew his free weights, and she purchased an actual functional trainer like the school now had. This also meant new exercises and harder workout sessions, more pain, and longer, more thorough muscle inspections afterward. When she felt he wasn't trying hard enough, she'd punish him both verbally and physically. Truthfully, the verbal abuse was a constant as Gloria always found some fault in his effort or body.

So, he worked out harder.

Shortly before the incident where he had to leave their home, Gloria began to touch him... differently. It frightened him, yet he felt powerless to stop her.

"Marin!"

Andre jolted out of his memories as he looked at the teacher who'd been trying to get his attention.

"Geez, boy! You're practically drooling looking at the machines. Did you want to try one out?" the gym teacher asked.

He glanced at the man and nodded.

"Get your gym clothes, change, and meet me in the room," the man said.

Andre stuffed his backpack and hoodie in the locker as he pulled his gym bag out. After locking his locker, he hustled off to the boys' change room entrance and ducked inside. He quickly changed into the gym uniform of a white t-shirt, blue shorts, white sport socks, and sneakers. Everything else went into a locker, which he secured.

Three minutes after the invite, he was standing in the room next to the functional trainers. Mr. Garlin hadn't returned yet.

The school had picked up six units and installed them two to a wall in the spare room. He inspected one and confirmed the installers had done a good job with the assembly.

Andre was alone, so he moved the pin in the stack to the middle and set up the cables for a Standing Chest Press. He gripped the D handles and faced away from the machine. He pressed the handles forward in a semicircular motion until both arms were fully extended. He slowly released the pressure and began again. He did a set of ten, then moved the pin down another four plates and did another set of ten.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Marin! You don't start off that high!" the coach growled as he entered the room.

At his back were four members of the basketball team, also in their gym clothes: Henry Fisher, Rick Halton, Greg Davis, and Kevin Zeigler. All but Davis were in his previous class and were dating cheerleaders he sat near. These were the guys who glared at him even though he had no say in where he sat. Great.

"What's he doing here?" one of them asked the teacher belligerently.

"The same as you, Fisher. Working out," Garlin snapped, then turned back to Andre. "You need to start with less and build up."

"I did," Andre said, and the teacher stared at him, then shrugged.

"Whatever. You know how to use these machines?" Garin asked, and Andre nodded. "Okay. Don't hurt yourself on them, or I cut off your access privileges," the teacher grumbled.

Andre nodded and moved the D handles to the lower cables. He adjusted the pin back up four plates and proceeded to do Standing Bicep Curls. After doing his warm-up set, he moved the pin and went through it again with the additional weight.

He followed the program Gloria set up for him to strengthen his arms, shoulders, back, and abs until he was sweating and his muscles trembled.

While he did his routine, he heard some of the other machines being used and the teacher giving instructions. Occasionally, he would catch one of the others watching him, but he just ignored them and pushed himself harder, glaring at nothing and quietly growling through the pain from behind his hair.

He glanced at the clock as he needed to shower and would need at least fifteen minutes to do that, dress, and get his books for the afternoon classes. He had time for one last set, so he pushed himself through it, then stepped away from the machine.

Mr. Garlin approached him and smiled at how much tighter the t-shirt had become. He knew this kid had muscles hidden under those baggy clothes.

"So, what do you say? Think you might like to get involved in the weightlifting team?" he asked.

Andre glanced at him from behind his bangs. "I'm not good with team things," he said quietly. His eyes jumped to look at the four other young men who were giving him scowls. They seemed upset with him, but he had no idea why.

"Think about it as you hit the shower. I think it could be good for you," the man insisted as he turned back to his basketball players.

Andre quickly went to get his shower kit and headed for the shower. He stood under the blast of hot water and washed his hair and aching body.

He didn't hear the others following him until he spotted Fisher out of the corner of his eye and looked sharply at him. "What?" he snapped, agitated by their stealthy approach. His eyes flicked to each of their faces. They were looking at his body and being blatant about it. Again, none were smiling.

Fisher finally worked up the nerve to speak. "We don't need a freak like you sweating all over the new equipment the school purchased for us."

Andre's mind latched onto the term freak, and his mind took him back to the day Gloria beat him. She'd used that term as she pounded on his face with her heavy fists.

Sensing his attention had drifted, Fisher made the mistake of giving Andre's shoulder a shove.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Andre roared suddenly and surged at the other young man, who tried to leap back but slipped and fell on his ass. Andre watched the other three grab Fisher's arms and pull him away from the trembling man standing over him.

Turning back to the shower, Andre scrubbed the soap over the area Fisher touched. He could feel the other man's filth on his skin!

He had to be clean!

-=-

Once they were out of the shower room, Fisher looked at the others, all wide-eyed with shock. They moved to the corner of the locker room.

"What the FUCK is wrong with him?" Fisher hissed quietly. "Did you see him scrubbing his shoulder?"

Davis got a determined look in his eye and rushed over to his locker. He jogged past seconds later with his cell phone and headed back into the shower room. He returned a short time later.

Fisher looked at Davis with a confused frown. "Why the hell were you taking a picture of him? Are you a fag or something?"

"Fuck you! You're a fag for asking!" Davis snapped in return.

"Answer the question! Why did you take a picture of him?" Fisher pressed.

Davis scowled and nodded as he looked into the eyes of the others. "You know how Marin is always dressed in that goth wear, all baggy and shit? He's obviously hiding himself! He doesn't talk to anyone or look at anyone. It's like he's hiding. We saw him acting like an animal on the functional trainer, and now he loses his shit after a simple touch? He must have serious mental issues! He doesn't want anyone to look at him. Imagine how he'll react when he finds out everyone knows what he's hiding. I think we can get rid of him by leaking the photo. Maybe permanently."

Fisher was looking at Davis with a surprised grin. "Holy fuck! You have a twisted and devious mind! I love it!" They heard Marin rush over to his locker and start getting dressed.

Zeigler smiled at Davis. "How do we get it to everyone at the school without getting caught?"

"I know one of the techs on the school's networking team. She'll send it to everyone's mailbox for me without leaving a trail," Davis grinned.

"All for the price of...?" Halton asked.

"Man, you know I never turn down the chance to eat a little pussy, even if it's on the chunky side," Davis grinned. The others picked up the grin.

"Have you idiots hit the shower yet?" Garlin growled at his players from the other side of the locker room.

"Sorry, coach! On our way!" Fisher called out.

Davis slipped his cell into his locker, then they rushed into the shower to clean up before their next class.

He didn't tell the others that the actual tech he'd be asking for the favor preferred Davis' dick in his ass as he did a reach around.

The incredible picture he'd taken was also going into Davis' personal collection.

Fuck! Marin was packing!

-=-

Andre rushed home after school. It had been a mistake to work out at school. His skin crawled at the memory of Fisher touching him. He picked up his pace.

He'd had difficulty concentrating in the afternoon. He'd aced the Chemistry quiz as he could focus on that. But listening to the teachers had been a struggle as his brain was busy drowning out their voices with its own internal dialog and the thousands of other stimuli coming in.

Finally, the last bell rang, and he was free.

He was making a pork roast for Cassandra tonight, so he went over the recipe in his mind and ensured he had all the ingredients at home. He was passing a small neighborhood bakery and slowed his steps. A baguette would be a nice addition. He stepped inside the shop and picked up a fresh breadstick.

The next shop had fresh-cut flowers, so he bought a small bouquet for their table.

Dessert was bought from the bodega on the corner.

Smiling as he rushed home with his purchases, he shook off the last of his unsettled nerves and let himself into the apartment. He had dinner to prepare before Cassandra got home.

He tugged his school clothes off and slipped on his running shorts and a tank top. The kitchen was going to get hot as the old oven leaked heat.

He put the flowers in a small vase and set it on the small table beside the window. The view it had was of the painted brick wall of the building across an empty lot. At least the afternoon light painted the wall with its brilliant colors and lit up their kitchen.

Preparing dinner focused his mind, and he enjoyed cooking for his sister.

He turned the oven on and sliced up two onions to line the roasting pan. He rinsed the pork roast and placed it atop the onions, adding more onions on top. He added baby carrots and potatoes to the roasting pan, then added water to the pan. He sprinkled dried basil flakes over the veggies and meat for seasoning. Finally, the lid went on, and he slid the roaster into the oven.

Andre hand-washed the utensils he'd used, tidied the kitchen, and set the table. He wished he had a bottle of wine for Cassandra, but he was only eighteen and couldn't buy one. Not that he'd drink any. He didn't like the taste or how it made his mind feel.

While he waited, he did his homework. None of it challenged him, so he finished quickly and put his books back into his backpack. He put that near the entrance for the morning and plugged his cell into the charger in the kitchen.

With nothing else to do, he made another pass through the apartment, except for Cassandra's room, to ensure everything was neat and clean.

A little more than ninety minutes after he got home, he heard keys in the door and wandered over to greet her.

"Seriously, piss off, TJ!"

"Come on, don't be so cold, bitch."

Andre frowned and yanked the door open. Cassandra gripped the handle tight, so she stumbled inside, away from their neighbor and into Andre's arms.

He noted the big man had been standing entirely too close to Cassandra. TJ shifted his bleary eyes to look into Andre's dark eyes.

"Don't call Cassandra a bitch. Don't touch her. Never again. Do you hear me?" Andre growled menacingly as he gently eased his sister behind him.

TJ blinked at the rage he saw building in those dark eyes. Even baked as he was, he recognized the threat of the smaller man. It felt like he was facing down a rabid animal, one twitch away from ripping his face off with his teeth! He raised his palms in surrender as he leaned away and stepped back toward his door across the hall.

"It's cool! Jus' trying to be frien'ly. Shit," TJ grumbled. He never looked away from Andre's eyes until he closed his door between them.

Intensely aware of Cassandra's hands resting on his back, Andre carefully stepped back and closed the door to lock it. She rested her forehead on his shoulder and released the breath she'd been holding.

"Are you okay, Cassandra?" Andre asked.

She sighed and stepped back from him. "Yes. Sorry. I just didn't need to deal with that asshole at the end of my day."

Andre nodded as he turned to face her. He struggled to keep his eyes from roaming over her body. She sighed and took her jacket off. His resolve crumbled as her heavy breasts pressed tightly against her cream blouse. He drank in the sight, then raised his eyes to hers and caught the tail end of a little smile as she turned and headed for her room.

"Dinner smells fabulous! I'll be right out. Thanks for saving me from TJ," she said over her shoulder as she away walked down the hall. Andre's eyes were trapped by the sight of her ass in the tight skirt. Then she closed her door behind her, and Andre was freed from her spell.

He picked up her purse and placed it on the kitchen counter. He pulled her cell from it to plug it in.

Going back to the hall, he took her dress shoes from the carryall and cleaned them with an old rag from the hall closet. The carryall went into the kitchen, where he pulled the lunch bag from it.

The carryall was stored on the corner of the kitchen counter for the morning.

He washed his hands, then the spoon from the lunch bag. That went back into the lunch bag with another pudding. This went into the fridge for now. He'd finish making his sister's lunch from the leftover roast later tonight.

Dinner was almost ready, so he put the breadstick into the oven next to the roasting pan. He heard the bathroom door close and glanced at the clock on the stove. He hoped she wouldn't be long as he didn't want to overcook the roast.

Everything had to be perfect for her.

-=-

Cassandra washed her face and tried to shake off the tingles her body was still going through after teasing Andre. She dried her face, then looked in the mirror with an angry scowl. How was she treating him any different than Gloria had? He was a young male. His hormones probably controlled him, and she was teasing him? What the fuck was wrong with her?

She needed to stop thinking of him in terms of being male. He was her brother! They may have had different mothers, but they shared the same demon as their father! She grit her teeth as a flare of rage shot through her. She'd promised herself she'd stop thinking of that monster.

The way Andre came to her rescue tonight returned to her thoughts unbidden.

The moment she'd reached her door, TJ stepped out of his and began pressing himself against her. When her door suddenly opened, she'd fallen in, landing against the solid muscles of Andre's chest. His powerful hands and arms guided her behind him as he faced off against the bigger man without hesitation. She'd immediately felt safer.

She saw the look on her neighbor's face. Even stoned as the big man was, he was frightened of Andre! That sent a surge of lust through her, and she'd rested her hands against her brother's back. The hard slabs of muscle in his back were trembling with restrained power, and that felt... so good!

When the danger was over, she knew she had to rein it in, but she couldn't stop herself from arching her back as she took her jacket off, which pressed her girls tight against her shirt. She caught Andre's wide-eyed appreciation of that. Another flash of lust shot through her and put a wiggle in her hips as she walked to her bedroom.

Andre never shortened her name. Never Cass or Sandy or even Sandra, always Cassandra. She loved the way he said it, too. Like she was royalty or someone significant. Hearing her name from his lips made her feel special.

It was only once she was behind her door that her guilt crashed through her. Her sexual frustration must be getting out of control. She'd glanced to her bedside table where her rubber friend waited in the drawer for their next date.

She'd pulled off her clothes and put on her comfy clothes, yoga pants, a tank, and a t-shirt. As she hated wearing bras at home and her girls couldn't go without some support, she'd taken to wearing tight tank tops under the loose t-shirt. She'd run out of her own tanks, so she'd borrowed one of Andre's.

As she now stood in the bathroom, giving herself a troubled look in the mirror, she couldn't stop herself from thinking about how his tank top was squeezing her breasts so well.

"Dinner!" Andre called out from the kitchen.

She sighed and left the bathroom.

The scent of the roast pork was accompanied by the delicious aroma of... fresh-baked bread?

She went down the hall and avoided walking through the tiny kitchen by walking through the living room to get to the table next to the window.

"You have classes tomorrow night, right?" Andre asked. She nodded. "You didn't update the calendar," he gestured to the fridge where they kept their schedule.

"Sorry. I'll do it after dinner. It smells amazing, by the way! You're going to make some lucky girl a wonderful househusband."

He glanced at her in confusion, but she just shook her hand with a gesture to say ignore her.

She sat in her customary place, and he set her plate down before her. Her mouth watered as the delicious smells reached her nose. The pork looked juicy and tender, as did the carrots and potatoes. Then he brought a basket of baguette pieces, fresh-cut and steaming. He brought out the butter for the bread and veggies. He poured her a glass of water and one for him.

She watched him with a smile as he finally sat across from her. "Above and beyond, Andre!"

He smiled at her, and she saw him relax a little with her compliment. They'd been living together for two years, and it worried her he still seemed to expect criticisms and cruel insults. The damage Gloria caused ran deep.

She turned to her plate and began eating. The roast was perfect, as were the veggies. She slathered some butter on the bread. The crust was crispy, yet the inside was so soft. "This is so good!" she sighed, and Andre smiled as he turned his attention to his own plate.

They enjoyed the meal in comfortable silence.

"Is there anything good to watch tonight?" she asked.

His face fell. "I forgot to look at the listings."

"It's cool! We'll look after dinner," she hurried to ease his mind.

He nodded and looked in the bowl for another piece of bread. Only the two end pieces remained. He glanced over at Cassandra, who was enjoying the last slice. He smiled and buttered one of the remaining pieces and popped it into his mouth. He took his plate and cutlery to the sink and quickly washed them.

When Cassandra pushed back from her plate, he looked at her to see if she was done. She nodded with a blissful smile, so he immediately collected her items and washed them as she wandered into the living room and dropped herself onto the couch with the TV remote. She flipped through the limited channels they had. The selection of shows was pretty slim. She finally settled on a crappy movie where young teens got into mischief as they tried to lose their virginity. She swore there must be thousands of similar films, and all were bad! But it was this, sports, news, or some religious channel with an old guy wailing about sinners going to hell.

As she waited for Andre to join her, she evaluated the actors' looks in the movie. The main male lead was attractive enough in a pleasant way. The female lead was a goddess disguising herself behind bad hair and thick-framed glasses. It was one of those right in front of your face stories.

"Anything good?" Andre asked as he sat next to her. He glanced at her curiously with an eager smile.

She snorted. "TV and good are mutually exclusive terms tonight. All we have is this teen comedy."

They sat together quietly, watching the high school seniors navigating their way through the warped reality of their final year in school.

Cassandra glanced over at Andre, and his eyes flicked to her. A wicked thought slipped into her head, and she grinned mischievously. She moved closer and gently pressed against his side. That felt good!

"So, is this how your senior year is progressing? Are the cheerleaders all chasing after you, trying to steal kisses in the hallways, pull you into the locker room?"

Andre's eyes widened as he shook his head vehemently.

She gave him a skeptical look. "Oh, come on! They must melt like butter when they eye this beefy body of yours!" She poked a finger against the thick, hard muscle of his chest. D-did it feel harder tonight? She trembled and struggled to hide her need.

Andre's eyes fluttered when she touched him, then he was looking at her with an intensity that sent tingles through her.

"No--no, they don't look at me like that. I sit next to some of them in my classes, and they don't talk to me. But I don't talk to them either," he admitted.

"You should talk to them! You should ask one out on a date!" she insisted, wanting her brother to find happiness, even as it evaded her.

He shook his head. "I can't. They have boyfriends. Besides, I don't think they like me," he replied.

Movie forgotten, Cassandra turned to face him on the couch, her legs pressing against his, and looked into his eyes with a troubled expression on her face. "How could they possibly not like you! You're a wonderful person! You're also so handsome, smart, and... built!" She bit her lip as she let her eyes drink in his powerful arms.

She wanted them wrapped around her, but that was wrong!

Wasn't it?

-=-

Andre shook his head, his thoughts derailed by the sight of her white teeth trapping her plump lower lip. His mouth worked to reply to her compliment, but he'd lost the ability to speak. His trapped erection was painfully straining against his shorts, and he didn't dare let her think he was being a creep.

He jumped up from the couch, pulling away from the delicious feel of her body. "I--I need to use the bathroom."

He saw her eyes lock on the ridge pressed against his shorts, then he fled to the only room he could go to with a door to put between them. Between her soft touch, her closeness, and her biting her lip, his libido had gotten away from him.

He had to get relief.

-=-

What was wrong with her?

Cassandra watched Andre rush away and almost called out to him to apologize. He made her a wonderful meal, cleaned up after her, and she rewarded him by teasing him unmercifully? After what he'd been through? What kind of monster was she?

She turned the TV off as it'd lost its appeal. Standing alone in the living room, she looked back at the sofa, wondering if she should open it up into its bed form. She might pick up his masculine scent from the sheets.

Cassandra froze as she contemplated lying on the bed. She was out of control!

Instead, she stiffly walked out of the room and down the hall, pausing outside the bathroom door. She moved closer.

"A-are you okay?" she asked softly.

She heard an odd grunt, then he spoke, his voice tight. "Yes."

"I'm going to bed. Thank you for dinner."

"Mmm-hmm," was his response.

She pulled back, guilt coursing through her. She opened her bedroom door and slipped inside, closing it behind her. Her mind flashed to the image of Andre's erection pressing against his shorts again.

She needed relief. Maybe once she'd appeased that need, she'd get her rational mind back.

She pulled the rubber cock from her drawer with the small tube of lube and sat back on the bed. She pushed her yoga pants down, freeing her big ass from them and sliding them down her legs. She needed to be naked, so the shirt and tank came off next. She recalled Andre's powerful hands on her as they'd been when he'd protected her in her doorway today. She imagined them undressing her.

Cassandra shook her head violently. Fuck, she was getting too excited!

Laying back on the bed, she grabbed the dildo and lube but realized she was already very wet, so she rubbed the thick head of the rubber cock against her opening and felt it dip inside. Her mind recalled the tent in Andre's shorts this morning, and she shoved the dildo deeper. She gasped at the feel of it forcing her walls open as it sank deeper inside.

Touching her clit, she jolted from how sensitive she was. It wouldn't take her long.

She began thrusting the fat fake cock into her as she rubbed her clit in circles, and her body arched--so fucking good! Andre's dark eyes watching her intensely flashed into her mind, and that was it. She pulled a pillow over her face as she screamed her release into it.

Wave after wave coursed through her body as she held that image in her memory.

When it finally slowed, and the pulses eased, she felt completely wrung out and deliciously tingly. Fuck! That was a big one!

She tried to keep the pleasure front and center for as long as she could, but the crushing guilt would not be denied its turn.

Why did she only achieve such bliss from something she knew was so fucking wrong!

-=-

Andre slowly cleaned himself up after the eruption he'd experienced when Cassandra spoke softly to him through the door as he stroked his cock toward his release. Her voice had caught him by surprise and triggered a colossal orgasm. He'd barely been able to answer her, and he was sure she knew what he was doing. That'd sent another surge through him, but he'd contained his moans.

When he heard her bedroom door close, he opened his eyes and saw he'd made a mess of the bathroom wall. Shit! That was more powerful than usual.

After he cleaned himself, he cleaned the wall and floor and ensured both were spotless once more.

He scowled at the man in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. Why couldn't he be a normal brother for a sister who was so wonderful! She'd rescued him, given him a roof over his head, and paid for the food on his plate. This was how he repaid her.

She'd asked him why he didn't have a girlfriend, and he couldn't tell her how none of them compared to her. Most of them were obsessed with being skinny and maintaining their position in the school's social ranking order. None of them attracted him as Cassandra did. None of them had the wit to carry a conversation. He knew Cassandra had a brilliant mind. He could sense her frustration with her job, and he was so proud of her attending college to get the certifications required for more challenging and lucrative work. He had to support her efforts, ease away all the distractions preventing her from reaching her goals. He could do this.

He just had to keep his need for her under control.

Chapter 5

Principal Harry Wallace sat at his breakfast table and stared in dismay at the photo on his cell phone. It'd come in sometime late last night, mailed from an account for a student he knew had died in a tragic car accident months ago. He'd contacted a few teachers this morning and got replies they'd also received the image from the school's email system.

The photo had obviously been taken in the school's shower room, as he could see the school colors on the wall behind the young man. He also noted the picture had been scrubbed of its information tags, so he had no clue as to its source other than the dead account the message had come from. He sent a note to Jerry Garlin to ask him who might have been present when the image was taken, assuming it was taken recently. He believed it was, as that matched the instant gratification nature of today's youth.

The Gym Teacher's response returned, saying he'd investigate.

Harry sighed. This was a public relations nightmare! The school district commissioner was going to find out about this, and heads might roll. He needed to be proactive and do everything right. He'd have to call in the techs to find out how an account that should have been removed was used to flood the school's mailboxes with this illicit image. Maybe they could remove the message from every mail account!

He sent a request for a meeting with the entire tech team in his office at nine AM.

He needed to know who the student in the photo was as well. A message to Mrs. Whitmore should resolve that, as she had an uncanny ability to match student faces to names. She'd been working in the office for over thirty years.

With a worried sigh, he rushed through his morning routine and headed off to school.

His head would not be the one rolling for this.

-=-

The school was buzzing with the story of the nude photo in everyone's inbox. From the students to the faculty, the illicit image had been mailed to them. The students who'd initially refused to set up their school-based accounts scrambled to do so. Some were too late, as the school's tech team sent a purge through the network to remove this message from the inactive account. The students who had received it now found the email was gone.

Not to be denied, the sharper students had already copied the attachment and spread it beyond the bounds of the school's network. It popped up on popular social media sites, links were shared back into the student accounts, and soon its exposure grew exponentially, expanding far beyond the school population.

Andre was one of the students who paid little attention to the school's digital services and never reviewed the emails they sent out. He also had no interest in social media, so he had no accounts there to receive anything.

When he arrived at school that morning, he was hidden within his usual hoodie and baggy jeans. Earbuds in his ears, Winterfylleth's album, The Threnody of Triumph, playing to drown out the noise of his thoughts, he spared little attention to the school's other occupants.

His garb made most overlook him, but he was sensing a difference. Eyes were following him. Just a few at first, but enough to make him notice. He didn't know why they were looking at him. He thought he witnessed hate, disgust, curiosity, and even lust, but without context, he was lost.

Andre went to his locker and grabbed his books for his first class. As he made his way there, he picked up the impression that more eyes were aimed at him, and his nerves buzzed.

He took his seat as the other students filed into the class. Their general noise level was higher than usual, and he paused his music to take in the chatter to pick up some clues about what they were so excited about.

"I can't believe that's him!" "Who took it?" "What a creep!" "So fucking hot!" "Why does he hide himself?" "It had to be Fisher!" "Why is he here today?"

Brigette Harrison, sitting to his left, leaned closer with a little smile on her lips and his eyes locked on hers. She seemed to be reading his face. "You don't know what's going on, do you?"

He frowned and shook his head slightly.

"Mr. Marin!"

Everyone quieted down and looked to the doorway where their teacher, Mrs. Phillips, and one of the main office workers stood.

"Come with us. The rest of you settle down," the teacher barked sharply. Then she looked at Andre, who was standing. "Bring your books."

Andre was worried now. He wouldn't be returning to class? He glanced at Brigitte, but her smile just widened, the tip of her tongue slipping out to lick her lips as her eyes panned down his body.

Disturbed by that, he stumbled forward and hastened to get out of the room.

The halls were emptying as students rushed to their first classes. A few teachers were still standing outside their doors and watched him pass.

Mr. Cochrane, his skinny, grey-haired geography teacher, wore a disturbed expression on his flushed face. Andre thought he looked angry or disgusted, but he couldn't be sure. The man glanced at the office worker, then turned to shuffle back into his classroom.

At the end of the corridor leading to the front office, in the last doorway, was Mrs. Jäger. She was Andre's math teacher and the physical opposite of Mr. Cochrane. Where he was short, old, and frail, she stood five-foot-eleven in sensible flats with svelte curves and fit muscles. The proportions of her significant breasts suggested surgical assistance. As he passed, she was watching him with an intensity that raised the hairs on the back of his neck. He immediately dropped his eyes.

"Ilsa!" Mrs. Phillips scolded quietly, snapping the tall blonde's eyes to her. She nodded to Phillips and stepped inside her class.

The last hallway was empty of students as the first bell rang. The teacher stepped through the doors to the office, with the worker and Andre following. Principal Wallace nodded to them.

"Thank you, Mrs. Phillips. I'll take it from here," he said, and Andre heard his teacher make sputtering noises. The principal raised an eyebrow, and Mrs. Phillips spun angrily and left the outer office.

"Mr. Marin, please join me in my office," Wallace said calmly as the worker returned to her desk with a glance at him.

Andre's nerves were buzzing. "Did I do something wrong?"

Wallace paused as he looked back at Andre. "Not at all. I just need to speak to you about something." He looked at the worker. "Have you been able to reach his guardian?"

Andre stopped and stared at the principal. "You're calling Cassandra? You can't disturb her at work!"

The principal looked at him. "Why? What does she do?"

Andre felt his chest tightening. He didn't want to cause her any trouble. "She's a teller in a bank. She has a mean boss. You shouldn't call her. I'm eighteen. Legally an adult. You don't need to call her."

Wallace looked at him and came to a decision. "Fine, but you'll need to speak with her, and I need her to call me as soon as she can."

Andre nodded and felt the tightness ease. He followed the man into his office and took a seat as Wallace closed the door. The older man took a seat behind his desk and took a deep breath before he spoke.

"I take it from your expression you're not aware of why you've been brought here," the principal said.

Andre nodded.

The man looked Andre in the eyes. "I'm afraid there's been a serious violation of your privacy."

Andre wasn't sure what that meant. He shook his head.

"An investigation is underway to determine who did it, but someone took a picture of you in the school showers. It was a very explicit picture. To make matters worse, the image was sent to every active account on the school network. I've had the network techs remove the message from every mailbox, but I'm afraid many of the students and faculty have already seen the image." He paused as he watched for a reaction.

Andre didn't know how to deal with this. People saw him naked? That's why everyone was looking at him? All those people seeing his body... Brigette! The image of her licking her lips flashed into his mind.

The noise in his head suddenly spiked, and he was out of his chair and running. He got out into the hall and saw the exit a short distance away. Voices were calling out behind him, but they felt like hands clawing at his body, so he ran faster, bursting out the front door to sprint down the sidewalk away from the school and all the knowing eyes. His feet knew where he needed to be to feel safe, so he let them set his course and tried to drown out the screaming in his head.

He ran across the street in front of the school and caught motion out of the corner of his eye. He leaped upward to clear the speeding car's bumper. His world exploded into stars as he slammed into the windshield, his body thrown upward to land on the road behind the skidding sports car. Mercifully, he was unconscious when he landed.

-=-

Cassandra rushed into the hospital and ran to the Admissions desk. The woman behind the desk looked up with a weary expression.

"I'm looking for Andre Marin. He-he was hit by a car!" she gasped, struggling to keep from crying.

"And you are?"

"His sister, Cassandra."

The woman tapped a few keys on her keyboard. "He's on the third floor--"

"Thank you," she gasped, but she was already rushing to the elevators.

She rode it up to the third floor and stepped out into the hall. She saw the nurse's station and hurried up to it. She was losing her battle to suppress her tears the closer she got.

"I-I was called by the principal of my brother's school. He said Andre had been hit by a car and was being taken here. His name is Andre Marin. I'm his sister Cassandra," she was babbling, but the nurse behind the counter gave her a sympathetic smile. She looked at her screen.

"Yes, Ah! Doctor Krastin. Your patient's sister is here. Andre Marin," she said to a man in scrubs. He walked over to Cassandra and guided her a short way from the nurse's station.

"First, Andre appears to be okay. We sent him for x-rays, but nothing looks broken. He was very lucky. He'll be badly bruised and will need at least a week to recuperate. He struck his head against the windshield and the road, but I don't see any signs of injury to his skull or brain. Not even signs of a concussion. He was unconscious when he was brought in but woke shortly after he arrived. We're going to keep him in the hospital overnight, but I believe he'll be able to go home tomorrow if he has a good night's sleep." The doctor smiled gently at her as the tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Can I see him?" she asked in a little girl's voice.

"He's in room three-oh-nine, but he's been given strong pain medication, so he's asleep. You can see him, but please don't wake him. He needs time to heal." He looked past her and nodded. "Before you do, you should speak with Principal Wallace, who's been waiting for your arrival."

Cassandra turned and saw the man standing by the entrance of a small waiting room. He'd been the one who told her Andre was in the hospital. She'd hung up on him right after he'd said which one.

She nodded to the doctor and walked over to the room as Wallace stepped back inside and gestured to one of the seats. Cautiously, she sat as he closed the door and sat across from her. He took a deep breath.

"I'd like to say I'm terribly sorry about Andre's unfortunate accident. The car which was speeding in front of the school was being driven by a student who, I'm told, will probably have his license suspended."

"Why was Andre running from the school?" Cassandra asked.

The man nodded and wet his lips nervously. "I'm afraid there was a serious violation of Andre's privacy at the school yesterday. We're investigating the source, but someone took a photo of Andre in the gym showers--" Cassandra sucked in a sharp breath, and the man paused as he looked at her cautiously. "To make matters worse, they somehow sent the image to every active school mail account. Many of the students and faculty viewed this image before we could purge it from the mail system."

Cassandra was frozen with horror.

"I called Andre down to my office first thing this morning to inform him of this... and I'm afraid he reacted badly. He ran from my office, exited the school, and ran out into the street directly in front of the racing sports car. Has he ever shown any suicidal tendencies before--"

"HE WASN'T TRYING TO DO THAT!" Cassandra roared as she leaped to her feet to glare down at the man.

Wallace leaned back in his chair, looking up at the raging blonde. Her eyes were wide, she was baring her teeth, and her fingers were curved into claws like she wanted nothing more than to tear into him. He realized he was genuinely frightened.

She was also breathing hard, and he struggled to keep his eyes from the sight of her blouse tightening over her abundant chest. Still, she was seriously pissed. He'd have to be very careful.

"I-I'm sorry if I misspoke... but on its face, his actions after he received the news--"

"You listen closely to me. You have NO FUCKING IDEA how STRONG that man is. What he's endured in his life and how he's bounced back. What happened outside the school today was an accident! Don't for a minute think it was otherwise. I know how important his privacy is to him, and I know how horrified he'd be knowing strangers had seen... what they saw. He'd have wanted to go home, where he feels safe. That had to be where he was going. He got hit because he was distracted by this horrible violation. You find the bastard who took that picture. I want criminal charges placed on him."

Cassandra snorted at the nodding man, then stormed out of the room. She stopped out in the hall and saw people watching her nervously. She knew she probably looked like a raving lunatic, but that man in there pushed buttons he should have left alone. She knew Andre would never do what the principal said. He loved her! He wouldn't do that to her.

She burst into tears and struggled to see through bleary eyes to read the room numbers to find Andre's room. She finally spotted three-oh-nine and went inside, clamping down on her sobs. He didn't need to hear that. There were four beds, and she found Andre in the last one. She ignored the eyes of the older men in the other three beds as she rushed to his side. He was sleeping, an innocent expression on his face. The right side of his face was slightly swollen and bruised. She held her fist against her mouth to hold back her cries. He'd gone through so much cruelty in his life, none of which he deserved.

Cassandra could feel the eyes of the other patients, so she stood and pulled the curtain around Andre's bed to give them privacy. Then she moved a chair next to his bed and sat to watch him sleep. She gently took his hand in hers, and on impulse, she kissed it.

She felt a reaction and looked up to see his eyes trying to open. She immediately stood and leaned over him to kiss his forehead.

"Shh, Andre. Everything is going to be fine. I'm here. Sleep. Get better," she whispered, then pressed her lips to his. She felt him moan, then sigh as the drugs pulled him back into sleep.

She pulled back in surprise. She hadn't meant to do that. She dropped herself back into the chair.

His reaction was circling around in her brain. He seemed to like it, but truthfully, he was high on medication, so she couldn't be sure what he was experiencing.

She knew her body was aching for another kiss. She sat further back in the chair as she looked at the sleeping man. Could she trust herself around him? Maybe she was a little overwhelmed with emotion at the moment. He didn't need that.

Cassandra sat with him for a while, just watching him sleep. Her eyes returned to his lips too often, so she finally stood and kissed his forehead once more before leaving the room.

She marched back to the nurse's station and smiled at the woman behind the counter. "When will I be able to take Andre home tomorrow?"

The nurse glanced at her screen. "The doctor will do a final examination in the morning, so I'd say you should probably be able to take him home by noon."

"Thank you." She left the hospital and waited for the bus to arrive. She'd take tomorrow as a sick day as she'd never taken one, so they owed her this, and she'd splurge on a taxi to get Andre home.

The bus finally arrived, and she got a seat next to the window. As they pulled away from the building, her eyes lifted to look for Andre's window as the memory of his soft lips slipped back into her thoughts.

Her body ached with need, and she squeezed her legs together as she tried to think of something else. Where her mind was taking her was so wrong!

As she got closer to her neighborhood, the bus stopped close to Andre's school, and a bunch of students piled on. The noise level on the bus went up considerably, but she knew she would get off shortly.

Most of them were talking about the car accident and the nude picture. She wanted to scream.

She stood to prepare to leave at the next stop and made her way to the door. She passed two young women staring at their cell phones and froze. There was the image of Andre, water pouring off his naked body. She missed her stop and jolted to ring the bell for the next.

"What site was that on?" she asked them, and they stared at her with knowing grins.

"It's all over the Internet now!" one gushed.

"This one is Reddit in the NSFW subreddit for big cocks!" the other whispered, and they burst into giggles.

Part of her wanted to strangle the bitches, but she contained her anger and looked at the screen to see the address she was talking about. The bus slowed and stopped, and she pushed the doors to step outside. As the bus pulled away, she pulled her cell out and typed in the address while she could remember it. Seconds later, the image was on her screen, and she froze once more.

She hated the creep who took the picture because he hurt Andre, and there was no forgiving that.

However, she couldn't help but admire how beautiful the shot was. The lighting and shadows, the composition, but mostly the timing of the image to capture the water striking Andre's body. How it splashed off and ran down over his chiseled muscles. He was... beautiful!

For the first time since they were kids, she saw her brother naked, and he was no longer a child. This was Andre, the fully grown adult, and his adult physique was... breathtaking. She realized she'd been standing on the sidewalk in one spot for a long time. Before she moved, she quickly saved the image to her cell's photo gallery. Again, while she hated the photographer for what he'd done, she was deeply affected by the photo and had to keep it.

She jolted as she realized she would be late for her college course if she didn't hurry. It would be difficult to concentrate tonight, but she owed it to herself and Andre to do well in the class.

She thought about that as she walked the block back to her building, but the image of Andre intruded in her thoughts the entire way.

Chapter 6

Andre woke in a strange place. His eyes panned around the room, and he saw strangers sleeping in beds beside and across from him. A hospital ward? Why was he here?

He tried to move, and the pain registered.

He stopped and did his best to relax as his right side screamed in protest from his attempt to shift on the bed. What happened?

A nurse walked into the ward and saw he was awake. She smiled and moved to the side of his bed. He noted she had strong-looking hands and toned arms for a woman in her... thirties. Pretty, in a mom-next-door way, she adjusted his pillow slightly.

"You're awake. Good. I'll let the doctor know. Are you in any pain?" she asked.

He tried to nod, but spikes of pain made him pinch his eyes closed.

"I'll take that as a yes," she sighed. "Let me get you something for that as well. Just rest. I'll be back."

Andre felt his mind drift away until he heard heavy footsteps approaching. He opened his eyes again, and a man in a white coat stopped next to him and looked at the monitor connected to Andre. Then he used a small flashlight to check Andre's pupil reaction. He smiled as what he saw pleased him.

"Good morning, Mr. Marin. I'm Doctor Krastin. You had a nasty bump yesterday, but you don't seem any worse for wear aside from some bruising. No concussion. No broken bones or torn ligaments. You are remarkably fortunate, considering you were hit by a car. You're going to need to take it easy and just rest for a week or so to let your muscles heal." He looked at Andre's chart. "You'll be discharged today. You'll need someone to bring you home."

"Sister..." Andre whispered.

The doctor must have missed it, as he looked at Andre.

The nurse standing behind the doctor touched his elbow. "Mr. Marin's sister will pick him up."

"Ah, right. That's good." He turned his attention back to his patient. "You'll be in pain for the next little while, so I'll write you a script for painkillers. They're strong and addictive, so only take them as directed, and if you can, do your best to limit your intake as much as possible. Do you understand?"

Andre glanced at the man. "Yes."

Krastin nodded to himself. "Good. I'll set that up and get you signed out so your sister can take you home. Take care." He stood and left as the nurse moved closer.

"I'm going to bring your breakfast in a moment, but first, we'll get you cleaned up, okay?" the woman said to him kindly. She pressed a control on the bed, and the top of the mattress began to rise.

Andre glanced at her as sharp pains from the movement made him grit his teeth. She was going to clean him?

The nurse stopped the bed as she noticed his pain, then left the room. Andre's eyes flicked to the man in the bed across from him. He was likely in his sixties, and he was grinning back at him.

"Sponge bath is best part!" the man chuckled in a thick Slavic accent.

Andre frowned. He didn't want a bath from the nurse. He glanced to the doorway where she was returning with a small rolling cart. She stopped it next to his bed and pulled the privacy curtain around them.

"No..." Andre moaned as his bruises protested being moved.

The nurse gave him a small sympathetic glance, then proceeded with her preparations. "Mr. Marin, your sister will pick you up this morning, and you don't want her to smell you in this state. The bath will be quick, and you will smell much better and feel refreshed once it's done."

She didn't wait for his reply as she began. He squirmed as she touched him, but he picked up on her clinical and impersonal technique. She moved quickly and efficiently down his body.

She tried to be gentle over his bruises, but the pain almost overwhelmed him. His mind dragged him unwillingly into memories of Gloria's abuse and how he'd had to just endure it. She made him feel helpless. The nurse was making her way down his torso, getting closer to his groin, and he closed his eyes tight as the terrible memories returned. Involuntarily, he began to stiffen, and the throbbing sent additional spikes of pain through his head. He was so confused and humiliated.

The nurse glanced up in surprise at his face as she heard him moan softly. His jaw was clenched tight in pain. She rinsed her cloth once more, as she was determined to finish quickly. She pulled his sheet down to work from his waist down and froze as she saw he was painfully erect.

In her thirteen years of being a nurse, this certainly wasn't the first time a patient had become excited during a bath. But this time, she could tell he was suffering from her gentle touches to his bruised side. Normally, that would have overwhelmed any excitement the patient might feel, killing any chance of them having an erection. This patient was very stiff and very big.

Without a conscious decision to do so, she gently cleaned his cock and balls with her cloth. He gasped as this triggered his release. She caught his cum in the fabric, and when he was done, she looked up to see if he'd enjoyed it.

Instead, she saw he'd turned his face away in shame.

Suddenly, the nurse felt horrible about what she'd done. She didn't know why she'd done it. She'd never done it before.

Quickly straightening up his gown and the sheet, she opened the curtain. Glancing back at Andre in guilt, she saw a tear roll down his cheek. She barely contained her gasp as she stiffly marched from the room with her cart, avoiding the eyes of the other patients.

She was suddenly feeling very ill at what she'd just done and walked to the nurse's station to let them know she was taking the rest of the day off. Reaching the locker room, she stuffed the cum soiled wash cloth into her backpack. Shouldering it, she rushed out of the hospital.

She had some thinking to do.

-=-

Back in the ward, Andre listened to hear if the nurse who'd fled was coming back. When she didn't, he did his best to try to forget it ever happened. His skin crawled, and he desperately wanted a shower to clean her touch from his skin.

As he moved, his injuries throbbed, and he realized the nurse had forgotten to bring him the pain meds.

His mind's internal dialog screamed at him that he deserved this and wasn't worthy of Cassandra.

He closed his eyes and prayed she would come to get him soon. He didn't like this place.

-=-

Cassandra was struggling with her rage as she rode the bus to the hospital. Her piece of shit bank manager had given her a hard time about taking the sick day. He'd kept her on the phone, asking her how she would make up the time she was stealing from the bank. She was proud that she'd been able to keep her voice steady as she listed off the times when he and others at the branch had extended their lunch period, arrived late, or not at all. At the same time, she was always on time or slightly early, took only the allotted hour for lunch, and had never missed a day. In the end, he grudgingly allowed her this one favor, and she'd had to thank him for it.

She didn't have much longer to go in her course, and the moment she graduated, she would apply for a better position to escape that toxic environment.

The hospital was coming up, so she pulled the cord to request a stop, then exited the bus just steps from the front door. She made her way inside and walked to the nurse's station she'd visited the day before. A doctor was speaking with the nurses behind the counter and glanced at her.

"Hello, I'm Cassandra Marin. I'm here to pick up my brother Andre," she said politely.

"Ah, I'm his physician, Doctor Krastin. Uh, we've met, yes?" he asked, and she nodded, so he continued. "I checked in on him this morning. He was in a lot of pain but has no serious injuries. Just a lot of bruising on his right side. He was very lucky. I've written a script for him for a powerful painkiller and have advised him it is highly addictive, so he should do his best to limit his use of it." He looked at Andre's chart. "He'll have been given his first dose this...." He frowned, then looked at the other nurses. "I'm not seeing a reference to Mr. Marin's first dose. Did Nurse Hall administer it?"

One of the ladies grimaced. "She wasn't feeling well and left early this morning," she confessed. "She mentioned nothing to us."

The doctor came around the counter, and Cassandra followed him down the hall to Andre's room. They went inside and over to his bedside. Andre looked up at them with glassy eyes.

"Mr. Marin, have you received any pain relief today? Any medication?" he asked quietly.

Andre's voice was barely a whisper. "... no..."

"I'm terribly sorry for that. I'll get you some immediately." Throwing an apologetic look at Cassandra, he rushed out of the room.

She moved closer to her brother and saw his eyes were tracking her. "Is there anything I can do?" she asked.

"... home..."

Tears sprung to her eyes. "Yes, I'm taking you home now. We'll get you home where you can rest in privacy. It's my turn to take care of you."

Andre's eyes were also filling with tears, but they dripped slowly down his cheeks. Cassandra grabbed a tissue and dabbed his face as the doctor returned with a small paper cup in his hand. He looked uncomfortable when he saw them crying. He moved next to the bed.

"I'm giving you two pills to start. Normally, you'll take only one and only when the pain becomes too much. They are potent," he explained as he poured a cup of water. He used the controls on the bed to raise Andre slowly to more easily swallow the pills. He sucked in some sharp breaths, so the doctor lifted the pill cup to his lips, and he took them into his mouth. Then he sipped the water and swallowed the pills.

Doctor Krastin looked at Cassandra. "How are you getting him home?"

She looked at him cautiously. "Taxi."

The man frowned. "I think that might be too much for him at this point. I'll arrange for an ambulance to take him.

"I-I can't afford--" Cassandra began.

"The Hospital will pick up the tab for this. We shouldn't have missed giving him the first dose. I insist," he said kindly. He pulled from his pocket the prescription he'd written for Andre and handed it to her.

"You can get this fulfilled in the pharmacy downstairs."

She took the paper from his hand and gave him a trembling smile.

"Why don't you get him the pills while I arrange for the ride home?" the doctor suggested, and she nodded. He left with a nod, then she turned back to Andre.

With a last smile at her brother, Cassandra rushed away to get the pills. The pharmacy wasn't busy, so she got the bottle of pills relatively quickly, but she fretted the entire time. She rushed back to Andre's side once she had them.

The process of getting Andre moved to a gurney, into an ambulance, and moved into her apartment was obviously agonizing for him, but he made no sounds of protest.

She folded open his bed in the apartment, and the burly paramedics gently placed Andre on it before leaving. Cassandra saw the journey had been too much for him, and Andre was unconscious. She went back to her bedroom and had a good cry. She'd failed him once more.

Chapter 7

Brigette Harrison leaned back against the sofa in the basement playroom of her home, her long svelte legs stretched out to rest on the coffee table. Seated next to her in the same position, and looking equally fit, was Steph MacGraw. Seated cross-legged on a beanbag chair across the table was Lindsay Martine. Finally, looking far too comfortable on her dad's La-Z-Boy was Mary Rossini.

Each of them had their cell phones out as they ogled the picture of Andre Marin with varying expressions.

"I had no idea this was hiding in plain sight between us all this time," Brigette said in wonder.

"Any idea why he was hiding?" Steph asked as she unconsciously slid a fingertip across her cell's screen.

"It was Henry who took the picture, wasn't it," Mary asserted.

Brigette shook her head. "No. He's useless with a camera. If it isn't a dick pic, he can't frame the subject at all."

The ladies burst into giggles, then they all went back to admiring the photo.

"This... this is a dick pic I wouldn't mind receiving," Steph sighed.

"The pic or the dick?" Lindsay quickly said.

Steph gave her an outraged look, but she couldn't hold it, so it became a coy smile. "I'm faithful to Rick, but for this, I might stray."

Another burst of squeals and giggles erupted. Once they calmed down, Steph got a pensive look in her eye. "Seriously, Rick is fun, but he's too much of a hothead. I wouldn't say he's Mr. Right. He's more of a Mr. Right-Now."

Brigette stared at the blonde next to her with wide eyes. She thought she was the only one thinking in those terms about her boyfriend. She felt relieved and offered her own opinion. "Right? I mean, we're in our senior year. We'll be going to college next. It's too soon to be thinking of a permanent relationship."

"Not happy with Henry?" Lindsay asked.

Brigette smiled. "Good for now, but not for good." Seeing Lindsay frown, she continued. "He's got a lot of growing up to do. He's so obsessed with basketball! He's not concentrating on anything else! I have to help him with most of his homework!"

"Marin gets perfect grades, yet he still maintains a body like this!" Mary purred, and the room went silent as they contemplated that.

"How does he do it?" Steph asked.

"How does he concentrate on anything with that music blaring in his ears?" Brigette asked, and the others looked at her. "He wears earbuds, but during class, he keeps one partially open. I heard his music. It's that death metal stuff. Loud, screaming guitars and grunting singers. I don't get it."

"That's playing during class? And he still hears the teachers asking him questions?" Lindsay asked in surprise. Brigette nodded.

"If he didn't dress and act so bizarrely, he'd be a contender," Steph mused.

More giggling ensued.

"Next question, is he dead or a cripple now?" Lindsay asked.

"What the fuck, Lindsay?" Brigette cried, and Steph made angry sounds too.

Lindsay held up her hands in defense. "Todd Weston hit him with his dad's corvette. You know how fast that idiot drives. The car's windshield and roof looked totaled. With that kind of damage, Marin could have been killed!"

Mary spoke up. "My Aunty Kate works as a nurse at the hospital, and she told me he's badly bruised, but that's it. He'll be back in school in a week!"

"Shit! He was lucky," Steph sighed in relief, and the others turned to face her. "What? It's not like I wanna date him! It would just be a shame for the world to lose such a magnificent specimen."

Her coy smile was back, and Brigette burst into laughter.

They shared a look, and she knew Steph was thinking the same thing. They had to think of a way to get to know Mr. Marin... more intimately.

-=-

"Now, get the hell out of my office."

Henry, Kevin, Rick, and Greg filed out of Mr. Garlin's small, windowless room. They'd just been read the riot act as their coach knew it was one of them who'd taken the picture of Marin. The others weren't willing to fink on Greg, so the coach would have to suspend all of them.

Luckily, the basketball team was heading for the US National Championship, and the coach wasn't willing to risk losing his star players or his chance to attend himself. He needed them, so he'd have to cover for them.

He wasn't happy about it, but he'd go along.

"I'm hungry. You?" Henry asked Rick calmly.

"I could eat," the man said with a grin, then looked at Greg and Kevin, who nodded.

"Mancini's Pizza?" Kevin suggested.

"My treat," Greg offered, and his friends nodded.

They drove over to the restaurant, Rick catching a ride with Henry, and settled into their favorite booth at the back.

They placed their order and waited for the waitress to leave.

"I'd say the plan worked out as well as we could have expected," Henry said and got nods all around.

"The turd getting hit by a car was an unexpected bonus," Rick added.

Kevin frowned. "Seriously fucked up that sweet corvette."

"Yeah, Todd's dad is going to seriously fuck him up. The old bastard loved that Vette more than Todd," Henry chuckled. "I do feel bad about the car, though."

"So, we shouldn't expect Marin back anytime soon, yes?" Kevin asked.

"How the fuck should I know? I'm not his doctor," Henry snapped.

They were quiet for a minute, then Rick frowned at Greg. "We should have amended the list of recipients for that message."

Greg looked at him in confusion. "What?"

"Yeah, to exclude our girlfriends," Rick explained.

"Seriously. Did you want to paint a bullseye on us?" Greg asked incredulously.

Henry spoke up. "Rick, there are a number of reasons what you suggested is a dumbass plan. Firstly, Greg's reason. Second, the email was pulled quickly, but it still got to everyone through the online sites where it was posted. Our girlfriends, discovering they weren't included in the initial distribution, would have looked for it online. Next comes a simple question: what the fuck does it matter if they see the picture? The dude is a freaking goth boy. No one likes him as he makes everyone uncomfortable."

"He doesn't look like a goth boy in the picture!" Rick insisted. Henry frowned at him, and Rick's expression turned puzzled. "You did look at the picture, didn't you?"

"Why would I look at a picture of a naked guy? I'm not a fag!" Henry retorted.

"You'd look at it for the same reason I did. You start thinking, what if my girlfriend sees it? How will they react?" Rick insisted.

Greg laughed, and the others looked at him. "You're seriously worried the bubble brain is going to dump you for him?"

"No! Dump me, no, but I don't want her looking at other guy's junk. It's different if it's in a movie or on TV as that's not here, in our town, going to our school."

The pizzas arrived, and they shut up while they had company. The moment they were alone, though, Greg started in on Rick with another grin.

"You've put some serious thought into this doomsday theory of yours. So, the ladies are safe to see Michael Fassbender, Viggo Mortensen, or Ewan McGregor flash their dicks in a movie, but you draw the line at them seeing a picture of the local creepy goth dude's cock."

"Fuck off! It's different if it's someone they can actually meet!" Rick growled.

"So, you're saying you don't want them meeting the meat?" Greg asked with a grin.

Henry waded in with a thought he had before Rick exploded. "How did you come up with that list of male actors so quickly? Your favorite movie list?"

"Fuck you! My sister knows all the actors and the movies they bared themselves in," Greg explained.

"I say again, you have to introduce me to this horny sister of yours," Henry said with a wicked grin.

"I wouldn't let any of you degenerates near my sister. She'd bust your dicks off," Greg said with a grin.

The table erupted into rowdy laughter.

They got down to the task of eating, but a seed of doubt had been planted.

Henry reviewed his relationship with Brigette as he recalled her reaction to the last intimate photo he'd sent her. Her enthusiasm had been... less than he'd hoped for or expected.

Rick was becoming increasingly nervous about how Steph might react to Marin's picture. Rick was self-conscious about his lack of size down there and compensated with vigor. She seemed to be less and less appreciative of that. She'd also been on his case about his temper recently.

Kevin was blissfully unaware that Lindsay was reassessing their relationship based on what she heard from her friends.

Greg enjoyed his meal, comforted by the fact that his friends had covered for him, and the coach had to keep quiet or lose his chance to go to the championships. He also had another date lined up with Brian, who enjoyed being treated like the little bitch he was. Greg wasn't sure how many more dates they'd have as he was getting bored. It might be time to move on. He realized he couldn't dump Brian too soon, or he might expose Greg as the source of Marin's photo.

That thought soured his mood. Brian wasn't that good of a fuck to keep dating him.

All of them knew that there would be scouts watching at the games, so they'd give their best effort.

Chapter 8

It was the weekend, so Cassandra could take care of Andre for two days uninterrupted. She expected the first days to be the most difficult for him.

The night before, she'd spoken to his boss and let him know about the accident and that he'd be off his feet for at least a week. The man was thankfully sympathetic and wished Andre a speedy recovery.

There was a moment of awkwardness when Andre needed to use the toilet and insisted he be alone in the bathroom. She'd helped him from the bed and all the way down the hall when he suddenly became stubborn about doing it on his own.

She could hear him gasping and moaning, but when he called her back in, he was dressed in his shorts once more and leaning against the counter. His muscles were trembling, and he looked one second from collapsing, but he'd done it.

This morning she'd given him his pain medication, but he insisted on only one pill. He said he didn't like how it made his brain feel.

She went out to get the ingredients he listed for her to make dinner. Cassandra was quite aware of her lack of culinary skills. Before Andre came to live with her, her diet had been less than healthy and far more expensive with all the takeout she ordered. Andre set up a weekly menu for them, did all the grocery shopping, and cooked their meals. He was far more organized than she was and far more skilled in the kitchen. She got him to confess that Gloria taught him these life skills as the woman had done nothing herself. Andre had been her slave.

Cassandra fought back another wave of rage and guilt as she thought about Gloria and her father. She knew Andre didn't blame her, as he'd told her so many times since he'd come to live with her, but she'd never let herself forget how she'd fled and left him behind in that poisonous environment.

When she got home with the groceries, Andre forced himself up into a chair in their small dining area so he could instruct her on preparing their dinner. She wanted him to go back to his bed and rest, but he just shook his head and looked at her with his glassy eyes. Her heart melted, so she gave in.

She made a fairly close approximation to the lasagna Andre made for them, and it went into the oven. Looking over at Andre, she could see his muscles were shaking again, so she helped him back to his bed and eased him down onto it. He shuddered in relief when he was on his back again, then he was out. Just sitting in the chair for an hour had wiped him out. The pill likely assisted with dragging him into sleep, but she had to insist he stay here for at least a few days to let his body recover.

Speaking of his body, he probably needed a shower. His sheets would need a washing tomorrow as well. That was another chore Andre took care of. She was aware he did all these things for her as he had for Gloria, who'd forced the work on him. But for her, he said he wanted to do them. He said there was a big difference. In her moments of self-doubt, she wondered how true that was. Was she taking advantage of the man?

She could do something for him now. She collected a large mixing bowl from the kitchen and filled it with warm water, then she got a facecloth and towel and carried these and the bowl back to the living room. She set it down on the small table next to the sofa bed and got the facecloth wet. She wrung it out and began cleaning Andre's skin, starting at his face. She slowly made her way down his neck to his shoulders when he started to make sounds. She paused to listen.

He was whimpering!

"no... please..."

"Oh my god, Andre! I'm sorry!" she gasped, and his eyes opened in surprise. They scanned the room in confusion, then settled on her face, and she saw his body sag in relief.

"Ah, it's you."

"I-I thought I'd give you a quick wipe down to freshen you up. I'm sorry if I--"

"I thought it was the nurse... again. I told her no, but she didn't stop." A tear rolled down his cheek, and a shudder went through his body. Andre's eyes were rolling in his head as the pill dragged him down. "Only you... can... touch." He was out.

Cassandra gaped at him, her mind torn between her need to beat this nurse bloody with her fists and shock at his confession. Only she could touch? What did that mean? He was high on painkillers and exhaustion, so she wouldn't put too much meaning into his words at this point, but it did seem to give her permission to continue.

She washed away the tears again, then worked her way down the left, uninjured side of his body, skipping past the area covered by his shorts. That would be creepy of her to do while he was unconscious.

His right side got the same treatment but gentler. He moaned softly, just the same. Then she used the towel to pat his body dry.

His shorts were tenting by the time she was done, and she stared at this a little too long for her own comfort. She felt like a real creeper, so she moved back to the kitchen to dump the bowl and wash it. The facecloth and towel went into the laundry bin.

Truthfully, she wasn't looking forward to doing the laundry down in the creepy basement laundry room, but it needed to be done.

She walked back to the living room and watched Andre sleep. The bulge in his shorts had relaxed, but honestly, it wasn't that much smaller. She pulled his top sheet up to cover him, then rushed back to her bedroom to relieve the sudden need she had. Guilt and lust battling within her mind.

What kind of sister was she?

-=-

Sunday morning, Cassandra gave Andre his pill and served him breakfast in bed.

"Don't get too used to this pampering!" she teased, and he smiled at her from behind his bangs as he munched on peanut-butter toast. When he was done, she got him into a chair as she pulled the sheets from the sofa bed and dumped them into the laundry bag. She folded the bed back into the sofa and put the cushions back, so he'd have somewhere to rest while she cleaned the sheets. She helped ease him back onto the couch.

"I'll be back in ninety minutes," she said. "Will you be okay?"

"Yes," he said with a smile.

With a last nod, she left the apartment and headed downstairs.

It was still early, so she lucked out and had her pick of machines. She got two washers going, one for clothes and one for the sheets and towels. She cracked open her paperback and settled herself on a chair to wait.

Laundry day sucked.

-=-

At ninety minutes, the alarm on Andre's phone rang. This pulled him from the fuzziness clouding his brain. He sat up on the couch and looked to the door. No sign of Cassandra yet, but he listened for the sound of her key in the lock.

Ten minutes passed and still nothing. Andre began to get nervous. There was no real reason for him to worry, as there could be many reasons for her to be late. The noise in his brain got louder, and he couldn't remain seated on the couch. He grunted as he pushed himself to his feet. He swayed for a moment.

Then he heard something. Cassandra's voice. Raised and agitated. His feet had him moving as his brain swam. He reached the door and looked out the peephole. Someone was covering it. He frowned and listened.

"TJ, move away from my door!"

"I'm jess sayin' we had some fun. We should do it again. I heard your pet pitbull is out of commission, so we havin' this moment. Stop bein' such a whiny bitch--"

The door suddenly swung inward, and TJ was falling back. Andre grabbed his throat and accelerated his fall until he slammed into the floor. He pulled back his fist and slammed it against the unconscious man's face twice before Cassandra grabbed his arm and stopped the third strike.

He looked up at her as his vision swam. He shouldn't have gotten so excited or moved so quickly.

"Can you help me get TJ back to his place?" Cassandra asked quietly.

Andre nodded as he tried to slow the room's spinning. He'd do anything for her.

Cassandra ducked across the hall to open the door. It was still unlocked. Then she was back and grabbed one of TJ's arms as Andre grabbed the other. They got him up, and she made sure the hall was empty before they carried him across and laid him down on the floor just inside his front door.

Andre looked at the determined expression on his sister's face as she looked around. Her eyes widened in fear, and he didn't know why.

"Andre, go back to our apartment and wait there. I'll be right with you," she said, and he nodded.

He crossed the hall and got to the sofa before his pain broke past the pill's fog, and he slumped.

-=-

Cassandra watched Andre wobble across the hall and wondered how he'd been able to hit TJ so hard in his state. She looked back at the coffee table in the asshole's apartment and stared nervously at the gun in plain sight, a box of bullets next to it. There were stacks of bills and a few bags of drugs as well. What an idiot.

She contemplated taking a few stacks of bills, but that would be a mistake. It probably didn't belong to TJ, and she didn't want any part of that mess if they came looking for it.

She checked, and the coast was clear. She made sure TJ's foot would keep his door open, then crossed the hall and quickly made a call on her cell.

"911. Please state the nature of your emergency."

"I think my neighbor across the hall was just mugged. There was some yelling, and I looked out my peephole, and there was someone with a gun in his hand pushing into the apartment. I screamed and ran away from my door and called you."

"Your address?"

Cassandra gave her details and TJ's apartment number.

She got Andre off the couch so she could open it up into a bed and put the sheets on it. She inspected his right hand, and his knuckles were red from punching TJ, but the arm and elbow were also scratched from the crash, so his knuckles blended in. She guided the barely lucid man back into his bed. No sooner was he stretched out than he was asleep once more.

Seven minutes after she called 911, two police officers were at TJ's doors with guns drawn. With the door open and all that evidence visible from the doorway, it wasn't long before the place was swarming with police. TJ was rushed out on a stretcher.

Cassandra answered the knock on her door and let two detectives in.

"Good day, Ms. Marin?" Cassandra nodded. "I'm Detective Parsons, and this is my partner, Detective Giovani. I understand you were the one who contacted 911."

"Yes."

"Can you tell us what happened?" Parsons asked.

She nodded. "I'd just returned from the laundry room. I put the sheets back on my brother's bed in the living room and walked past the front door when I heard a loud yell. I looked through the peephole and saw someone pushing his way through the door. I saw a gun, and I screamed. Then I called."

The two men leaned around the corner to see Andre asleep.

"This is your brother? Is he okay?" Giovani asked.

Cassandra walked into the room, followed by the detectives. She gently pulled the sheet down and caught the men wincing at the sight of the bruises she exposed. "He was hit by a car two days ago. Nothing was broken, but he's in a lot of pain. I was given powerful painkillers for him. They put him out for hours." She pulled the sheet back up.

"So, he didn't see or hear anything?" Giovani asked.

"I had to get him off the sofa to put the sheets on it, but I doubt he'll remember that. They're really potent drugs. Maybe a little too strong," she said with a frown.

The two men nodded as they were used to hearing that. "Try to get him off the pills as soon as you can," Parsons said, and she nodded and walked them back to the front door.

The man gestured to the door. "Can you give me a description of the man who accosted your neighbor?"

"All I saw was a dark jacket, dark pants, and what I thought was a gun in his hand, which made me scream. I think he was wearing dark gloves, too. If you look yourself, you'll see the peephole isn't very clear."

Parsons bent down and looked across the hall. He saw it was true. The visibility wasn't good.

"Your scream probably frightened off the assailant and may have saved your neighbor's life," Parsons replied. He frowned when Cassandra didn't react with a smile. "How well do you know him?"

"Well enough to keep my distance. I regret to say I went on one date with him a long time ago. He turned out to be a sleaze bag back then, and he never improved. If anything, he just got worse. He wasn't one to accept a no if you get my meaning." Cassandra said, holding Parson's eye.

The man nodded. He put his notepad away and handed her a business card. "If you think of anything else or see that man around the building, please give me a call." Cassandra nodded.

"I hope your brother gets better soon," Giovani said.

"Thank you."

The men left, and Cassandra locked up. She walked into the living room and dumped the laundry out onto the bottom corner of the sofa bed. She began folding the clothes and towels as she watched Andre's sleeping face.

He'd come to her rescue and would have killed TJ if she hadn't stopped him. That gave her tingles in places she shouldn't tingle for a family member.

She put the sheets back on her bed and put their clothes away. As she loaded his stuff back into the dresser, she wondered if Andre ever did anything kinky with her underwear when he did their laundry.

She snorted and shook her head as she knew the answer to that.

She was the freak in this relationship.

-=-

TJ woke in a strange place, and his head hurt so much.

He heard a beeping sound and tried to turn his face toward it, but that was too much effort.

Someone came into the room, and he looked at the nurse who was looking back at him. He... recognized her. He was at work? What was he doing in bed? He tried to lift his hand and heard a metallic rattle. He knew that sound. He was cuffed?

The nurse left, and moments later, the doctor came in. "Mr. Johnson. I didn't expect to see you as a patient in this hospital." He flashed a light in TJ's eyes, then looked at the chart. "You have a nasty concussion, so thinking may be painful for the next little while. That said, can you tell me what the last thing you remember is?"

Doctor Pembrook was a decent enough man, so TJ did his best to answer the man's question. "Uh... going home Friday night. I-I can't remember shit after that." He liked to get high on the weekends, so that didn't help. He rattled his wrist. "Why am I cuffed to the bed?"

"I'll let the detectives explain that," the doctor said as he left.

Two men in suits arrived, and he could see cop written all over them.

"Hey! Why am I locked to the bed?" TJ said, going on the offensive.

"Mr. Jackson, you were the victim of an attack. Your neighbor, Ms. Marin, witnessed someone attempting to enter your apartment with a gun in his hand, and she screamed. This seems to have scared your attacker away. The police arrived to find you unconscious. They also found a large quantity of money, various illegal drugs, an unregistered handgun, and ammunition. You're going to be charged for trafficking, and we're running ballistics on your weapon. It had your fingerprints all over it."

TJ looked at the men's smiles, and a bead of sweat popped up on his forehead. "Wait, something isn't right." His recent memories were lost in a mist, but he recalled the time Cassandra's brother threatened him. "I don't know about being attacked... I can't fucking remember anything, but that bitch wouldn't have called for help for me."

The men smiled at each other. "She did mention she thought you were a dirtbag, but your assailant had a gun."

TJ's head was hurting badly. Who had a gun and wanted him dead? The list of suspects wasn't zero, but it still didn't make sense to him. He closed his eyes. "It had to be the bitch's brother! H-he threatened me!"

One of the detectives snorted. "We read the police report and saw him in person. He'd just been hit by a car and was heavily medicated, unconscious at the time. So nice try, but it couldn't have been him. The extent of your injuries and the bruising on your throat also show it couldn't have been Ms. Marin, so this means your assailant is still out there. Luckily, you will not be out there for him to try again. With your priors and the weapon we confiscated, you won't be out there for years."

"Unless you'd like to start talking and give up your source," the other detective said with a smile.

TJ looked at them with a sick expression. If he talked, he was a dead man. If he didn't, he was doing time.

Shit! He'd fucked up big time.

The officers were looking rather pleased with themselves.

Chapter 9

The week went by with relative ease... for Andre. He was concerned that Cassandra was taking on too much above her already demanding work schedule and night school. He dutifully relaxed as much as possible to let his injuries heal, but he continued to do light-duty house cleaning when he wasn't resting. He made her lunches and was back to doing the cooking from Wednesday night onward.

Friday morning, Cassandra contacted Principal Wallace and wasn't pleased that the man had made no progress tracking down the culprit. She demanded to know what the school would do to make Andre's remaining time in the school less uncomfortable. Earlier, Andre mentioned he preferred sitting at the back in his classes, so she insisted that would be a good start. He agreed and told her this would go into effect upon his return next week.

They went out for a walk on Saturday and Sunday to ensure Andre could make it through the day.

When Monday rolled around, Andre ensured he arrived at school just before the first bell, so most students were already in their seats when he walked into the class.

His homeroom teacher, Mrs. Phillips, gestured for him to approach her as he entered the room.

"Mr. Marin, please accept the apologies of the entire school population for the gross violation of your privacy. Your teachers have been asked to adjust the seating to ease your return." She looked away from Andre's red face to the back of the classroom. "Mr. Zeigler. Gather your things and move to Mr. Marin's spot.

Kevin's face lit up with a wide smile as he'd be getting a seat in front of his girlfriend. He missed the look of dismay Lindsay sent to Brigette, and the look of sympathy Mary gave her.

Andre didn't wait for any more speeches from the teacher and headed for the last seat at the back.

The ladies plastered fake smiles on their faces as Kevin settled into his new spot with a smug look for Henry and Rick.

Andre felt a little better with his new spot at the back. He wondered if Cassandra had somehow worked out this magic.

Most of his teachers felt the need to publicly embarrass him in the same way as Mrs. Phillips had, but he kept his eyes down and got through it. The new seating worked much better for him, so he was grateful for that.

The rest of the week went by with less fuss, but he was overly conscious of the looks he was getting from the other students, especially the clique of Brigette Harrison, Steph MacGraw, Lindsay Martine, and Mary Rossini. They seemed to go out of their way to smile at him, wave when he entered classes they shared with him, and they even attempted to speak to him on at least two occasions, but he ducked out the nearest door. He didn't know how to talk to them, and he didn't want the trouble that might bring him.

Thursday morning, he arrived at school early, so he headed to the library to review his homework. The moment he was seated, he found himself surrounded by the four ladies.

Brigette sat in the chair on the opposite side of his table and grinned at him. "Andre, we're not letting you run away today."

Steph smiled and sat in a chair next to him, blocking his escape down the aisle to his left, while Mary stood blocking the right aisle. That probably meant Lindsay was somewhere behind him.

"We're having a party tomorrow tonight to celebrate the success of the basketball team for making the semi-finals. We want you to come--"

"No."

Brigette blinked in surprise at being interrupted, and her smile slipped a little.

"It's going to be a lot of fun--"

"No, please." Andre shook his head firmly.

Steph was equally surprised. No one had ever turned down an invitation to one of their parties. "It would be good for you to do some socializing--"

"Thank you, no." Andre's eyes were aimed at the surface of the desk. His heart rate was climbing, and the noises in his head were making it difficult to concentrate.

"Do you hate us?" Mary asked, point-blank and out of the blue.

That made Andre turn to look at her. He gave his head a brief shake.

Mary smiled and reached out to pat his arm.

The noise spiked in Andre's head, and he was moving.

He grabbed his bag and books, clutching them to his chest as he leaped up onto his chair, then onto the tabletop. He made a mighty leap to freedom, and once he landed, he ran straight out the doors of the library.

Lindsay walked up to the others and grinned. "He's a slippery one! Did you see that perfectly executed spring upward and leap forward? He could be on the gymnastics team!"

"What the hell is wrong with him?" Brigette asked in frustration.

"He doesn't hate us, at least," Mary sighed.

Steph shook her head. "But he doesn't like us enough to want to spend any time with us, either. I don't want that."

"Nor do I!" Brigette insisted. "I want him to come to our party!"

Lindsay sat, and the four ladies discussed strategies until it was time to get to homeroom.

They took their seats and noticed that Andre was still missing.

The classroom slowly filled as the students took their seats.

Steph was still lost in strategizing when she saw Andre duck into the room and head for his seat at the back. She caught him adjusting his earbud, and an idea popped into her head. She wanted to offer it to Brigette before the class began, so she spun in her seat to the left to face her friend. "What if we told him we'd be playing his favorite music at the party? Maybe Andre would come then!"

She suddenly saw the frozen, wide-eyed expression on Brigette's face.

"Who the hell wants Marin at the party?" Kevin growled from his seat behind her.

Steph's mouth worked as she glanced back at Brigette, but she knew she was on her own from the look she got.

"I-it would be a good way to make up for the shitty trick someone played on him, posting that picture," she insisted. She saw Brigette nodding enthusiastically and felt some relief that her friend was backing her up.

"It's a fucking stupid idea because no one wants that freak anywhere near the party. He's not coming, and that's final."

"Don't you dare call Steph stupid!" Lindsay snapped as she swatted the back of Kevin's head.

"Ow! What the fuck? I said the idea was stupid! But if it came from her, then I guess she must be!" Kevin retorted.

Lindsay glared at Kevin. "You've just made me realize how incredibly stupid you are. I won't date someone that stupid. We're done."

Kevin gaped at her, but all he could see was the contempt in her eyes. He glanced to his left, and Brigette had pity in her eyes, and Steph mirrored Lindsay's contempt. Facing forward now, Kevin glanced to his right and saw a smirk on Mary's face.

Shit! His prime spot now felt like a trap.

"Settle down, people!" Mrs. Phillips called out.

Kevin caught Henry's eye and saw the question there. He shook his head, as there was nothing he could say surrounded by these vipers. They'd talk at lunch.

This all started with Greg's plan to get rid of Marin, but now it looked like Rick's doomsday scenario wasn't as laughable as Greg said.

-=-

Andre had been very agitated after being ambushed in the library. When he got to homeroom, there was some kind of drama going on he didn't understand, so he kept his head down. He tried to do that all day, and it seemed to work as he and the school seemed to have calmed down by the last bell.

After his last period, he was leaving the school when someone grabbed the carry loop on his backpack and almost yanked him off his feet to drag him backward behind the old portables in the field behind the school.

He undid the chest strap and pushed the shoulder straps free, but someone tripped him, and he fell. He rolled and was quickly back on his feet, facing five angry men.

Henry was front and center, with Rick and Kevin on either side of him. Another member of the basketball team, David Trent, looked angrier than the others as he stood on Rick's other side. Greg was behind the four but looking more frustrated than pissed.

"What?" Andre asked.

Henry was going to be their spokesperson. "You're not coming to the party tomorrow night! No one wants you there! We know Brigette and Steph asked you--"

"I said no."

Henry stopped and scowled at Andre. "You're not coming."

"I said no, thanks." Andre said carefully, watching them.

Henry seemed a little confused. He looked at Kevin, who was almost snarling at Andre. Kevin turned to face Henry. "He has all the women turning on us."

"I didn't--"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" David yelled angrily. "Becky dumped me. Three years of dating her, she sees your picture and dumps me!"

Andre stared at him in confusion. He didn't see the connection David was making.

"Lindsay dumped me!" Kevin added. "She got all sympathetic with this loser, and when I told her he wasn't welcome, she fucking turned on me! The bitch!"

Andre wasn't sure what was happening. He did nothing, but they were angry with him. "I didn't--"

He was looking at Kevin, so he didn't see Rick's fist until it caught him on the cheek. His head rocked back, then another fist hit him and another. They were screaming at him in rage as they came at him all at once. His mind tried to deal with the chaotic attack as hit after hit struck his face and upper body.

Greg landed a spinning kick against his right side, and that was especially painful, as his bruises were still healing. His mind flashed to being bedridden and how tired Cassandra had been taking care of him. He had to get away from them. He tried to run past, but Henry hit him with a sloppy punch against his ear, which sent spikes of pain through his head, knocking him back. Rick collided with Kevin, pushing him back as Rick surged forward to hit Andre's gut with a series of rabbit punches.

Andre shoved Rick back, who tripped over Kevin to land on his ass.

There was no way to get past them. They had his back against the portable, and they began taking turns hitting him. His arms were up to block the punches. They were trying to drive Andre to his knees, but he stubbornly refused to fall.

All Andre could think of was how his sister would have to take care of him all over again and how unfair that was. He saw Rick lean in to punch him in the temple, so he caught the punch in his left hand and gave a sharp push. Rick's wrist folded back with a loud snap. Andre then slammed his right fist into Rick's side, cracking ribs. The man sucked in a sharp breath and fell to the ground.

Henry's next hit knocked Andre back against the building behind him. He ducked to the right, and Henry's follow-up punch with his right fist struck the aluminum siding instead, and fingers broke. Andre kicked out wildly and caught the side of the man's knee, folding it sideways badly. Henry fell, screaming.

Kevin leaped forward to rain punches against Andre's forearms as he tried to protect his beaten face. Andre grabbed one of Kevin's arms and sloppily punched with his free hand. He caught Kevin's elbow, and it dislocated with a pop. As Kevin sucked in a breath to scream, Andre punched him in the jaw, which broke as well. He fell unconscious.

Greg wildly kicked Andre's shoulder, though he'd been aiming for his throat. Andre was slammed back against the building again, but when Greg's next kick came at him, Andre caught it and pulled it sharply as he twisted. Greg screamed and grabbed at his groin as he collapsed.

David ran closer, but Andre was done getting hit. He leaned away from David's punch and smashed his fist into David's side, snapping ribs. The man fell back and caught Andre's last punch in the middle of his face, crushing his nose. The man collapsed.

Andre leaned back against the building, panting and wincing in pain. Everything hurt, and his face was swelling up from the number of punches he'd taken. He tasted blood from his split lip. His backpack was on the ground, and he stumbled forward to pick it up. He walked away without looking back and made it all the way home without further incident. He still had some pills left, but he recalled the doctor's warning. He went into the bathroom and did his best to wash off the blood.

"ANDRE!"

His eyes opened, and he was looking up at Cassandra from the bathroom floor.

"What happened? Who did this?" she cried.

"Henry Fisher... Rick Halton, Greg Davis... Kevin Zeigler, and David Trent. So angry at me." He tried to shrug, but that hurt too.

There was a sharp knock on the door. Cassandra looked at Andre and helped him sit up and move back to lean against the tub. The quick knock came again. "This is the Police. Open up!"

Andre saw Cassandra's eyes flash with rage, and she was gone.

"I want them arrested! NOW!"

Andre could see her in the hallway yelling at someone outside the apartment door, and to Andre, she looked like an avenging Valkyrie.

"We have a report that Andre Marin injured five students behind the local high school," a deep voice said.

"Come in! Look at the damage they did and tell me he wasn't the victim of a savage beating!" Cassandra snapped.

She stormed back into the bathroom and gently helped Andre to his feet. She eased off his hoodie and long-sleeved t-shirt and gasped at the bruising on his arms. A tear ran down her cheek, then her expression hardened. "Tell them who did this."

Andre repeated the names for the two big cops standing just outside the washroom. They looked uncomfortable as they looked at his arms.

"The boys you just mentioned claimed you attacked them. They were all taken to the hospital with serious injuries," one officer said grimly.

"Andre, tell them what happened," Cassandra said gently.

He looked at her, then nodded. "When I left the school, someone grabbed my backpack and dragged me behind the portable. They started yelling at me. They were so angry."

"What were they saying?" Cassandra asked.

He looked at her again. "They said their girlfriends were dumping them, and it was my fault. They didn't explain why," Andre said, confused.

"So, they were yelling at you and..." the second officer prompted.

"Rick punched me. Then they were all punching me. I tried to run, but they had me trapped between them and the portable. I had to hit them back so I could get away."

"You can see these are defensive wounds!" Cassandra insisted as she pointed to Andre's forearms. "And you can't tell me one man can trap five more easily than five can trap one! Andre was obviously the victim of their brutal attack!"

"Yet they're all on their way to the hospital, and he's only bruised," the first cop insisted.

Cassandra's voice stuck in her throat momentarily before she found it again and exploded. "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? ONLY BRUISED? ARE YOU BLIND?"

Andre wrapped his sore arms around Cassandra's waist to hold her back, and she glanced down to see the discoloration. She sucked in a breath, as she knew he was in pain.

She locked eyes with the cops. "Do the math. Andre was attacked by five jealous punks whose girlfriends found them lacking. That he defended himself and won the fight is irrelevant in terms of the crime. Feel free to piss off and take it up with the truly guilty. Now, get out!"

Red-faced, the two cops turned and left the apartment. Cassandra locked up behind them and rushed back to Andre, who was leaning against the bathroom counter. She got a facecloth and carefully washed his face. She used cool water to help ease the swelling. Then she washed his arms and his torso.

"Come on. You're going to lie down before you fall down." Cassandra guided him out into the living room and got his bed ready, then eased him down onto it. She left and returned with a cold compress she placed across his eyes. She saw him relaxing.

"Sorry, Cassandra," he whispered.

"What are you apologizing for?" she asked.

"I didn't want to add to your burden of taking care of me," he managed to say. His bottom lip was trembling.

She was quiet, and he began to worry, so he reached up to lift the compress from his eyes. Her hands caught his and eased them back to his sides.

"Andre, you are never a burden to me. Rest. We'll see if you're well enough to go to school in the morning."

He heard her leave the room, then the sound of her bedroom door closing. Her voice had been wobbling when she spoke, so he didn't know what to make of that. His face throbbed, so he eased himself back against the pillow and did his best to relax.

The coolness of the compress felt good, and soon he drifted off.

-=-

Cassandra cried into her pillow to keep Andre from hearing.

He was still worried about being a burden to her, and this reminded her of the harsh words she'd used on him when he first came to live with her. Her guilt ate at her, and she didn't know what she could do to finally get through to him that she wanted him with her.

That sent another stab of guilt through her as the memory of his trembling lips returned to her with how much she'd wanted to kiss them.

He was lying there, helpless, blindfolded, and so sad, yet what was going through her head was her sick need to press her lips against his to ease his upset... and feed her need for him.

Even bruised, his body drew her like no other.

She had to get some perspective on this and protect Andre from the same kind of abuse Gloria put him through.

She remained in her room for hours before sleep took her.

-=-

Andre convinced Cassandra to go to work as he said he was feeling up to going back to school. He made her lunch and prepared her bag for her. When she left for work, he took a cold shower to help with the remaining swelling, then got dressed slowly.

With his bruising, it took longer for him to walk to school, but he listened to Judas Priest's Painkiller, which obscured his mind's own screams in his head and dulled the stream of inputs surrounding him.

As he walked through the halls, his hood up and his eyes down, he felt their stares. Whenever he glanced up, they always looked away. That was a surprising change and something of a relief.

He was almost to his homeroom class when Mrs. Phillips stepped out into the hall to stop him. He glanced up at her and saw her expression freeze as her eyes moved over his face. It looked like she'd been about to say something cross, but her expression softened.

"Mr. Marin, Principal Wallace and Mr. Garlin would like to speak with you in the principal's office. You can find your way there, yes?"

He nodded and turned away to begin the trek to the administrative offices. The secretary gestured for him to take a seat. She got on the phone.

"Mr. Marin, you can go in now."

He glanced at the woman, then walked to the door and opened it. He stepped inside and saw the principal in his chair behind his desk, and the coach was sitting in one of the two chairs before it.

"Good morning, Andre. Please have a seat." Wallace pointed to the open chair.

The principal gestured for him to push back his hood and pointed to his ears when he sat.

Andre slipped the hood back and popped his earbuds out. He glanced over at Garlin and saw the man's angry expression fade to shock.

"Damn," the coach said.

Wallace shot him a glance, then turned his eyes to Andre. "It's come to our attention that there was a fight behind the school after last bell." Andre nodded. The principal continued. "It seems obvious from your bruising that you were involved."

Garlin snorted and got a stern look from Wallace.

Andre nodded once more.

"We've heard from the others, and the police who I understand spoke with you last night?" Another nod. "Can you tell us what happened?"

Andre looked between the two men, then kept his eyes on the desk surface. He described how he was dragged out to the portable, how angry they were about their girlfriends dumping them, how they blamed him, and how Rick had started them all hitting him. He said he tried to run, but they kept hitting him, so he had to hit back to stop them.

"Could you show us your arms?" Garlin asked and got another weary look from the principal, but he also seemed to want to see.

Giving the principal a questioning look, he got a nod, so Andre pulled his hoodie up over his head, pulling his shirt off at the same time.

Wallace gasped when he saw the bruises covering Andre's arms, torso, and face.

"You can put it back on. Thank you, Andre," the principal said softly. "When you're ready, please go back to your classroom."

Andre stood and straightened out his clothes and nodded before he put the buds back in and the hood up. He left quickly, as he wanted to get his day started.

-=-

When they were alone in the office, Garlin shook his head. "Shit!" he cursed softly.

"The defensive bruising was there just as the police officers said. I have to believe the story Andre just told us, as it's far more believable than what we heard from the others. They couldn't even keep their stories straight."

Garlin nodded. "I have to pull the team from the tournament. None of the injured players are in any condition to play, and I can't substitute that many players this far in."

Wallace gave the coach a bewildered look. "I don't care about the bloody championship! We can't have students bullying others and attacking them in groups! It's bad enough Mr. Marin had his privacy invaded so badly. I'm still waiting to hear from you who it was, by the way. Could it have been one of the hooligans who fought with him last night?"

Garlin's expression must have slipped as Wallace caught it, and his temper exploded. "If you knew who it was, you had to tell me!" His expression changed as he realized what the coach had done. "Oh, my god! You were protecting them to stay in the championship!"

"I never found out which of them took the picture!" Garlin argued in his defense.

Wallace scowled. "But they were all involved?"

Garlin bit his lip, but he'd already spilled too much. "David Trent wasn't in the change room that afternoon, but the others were, though none confessed," he mumbled.

Wallace leaned back in his chair as his eyes locked onto the eyes of the man seated across from him. "You will no longer obstruct my investigation. As of his moment, you're on suspension pending a disciplinary investigation. Get out and go home."

The principal watched the man wearily leave his office. He called the admin desk. "Helen, it's Harry. I've just suspended Jerry Garlin. We need to schedule a disciplinary investigation."

"Oh, my word! What did he do?" the older office administrator asked.

"He withheld the identity of suspects responsible for the Marin privacy breach," Wallace sighed. "Get someone to watch his classes for today and next week too."

"Yes, sir."

"Thanks, Helen. Oh! And one more thing, I'm looking for the names of the girlfriends of several students. They may have evidence in this case."

"I can get that information for you. Just send me the list of students," she said.

"You're the best, Helen!" Wallace said with a smile.

"You better believe it!" she teased back.

Wallace hung up and closed his eyes. Right under his nose. This didn't look good, but he was going to do this by the book.

He would find the guilty party and get some justice for young Mr. Marin and his formidable sister.

Chapter 10

For Andre, life at school settled into a new state of normal over the next two months. He was now sitting in the back of every class, and the other students left him alone, mostly.

Occasionally, one of the ladies he used to sit next to would smile back at him or wave. He did his best to ignore these efforts. He didn't understand their intent, and it didn't feel safe to speak to them.

The five students who attacked him had been expelled. The school had a zero-bullying policy, and because of the viciousness of the attack, they were enforcing it to the full extent. He and Cassandra were told their permanent record would reflect their actions. Some had already lost potential scholarships.

The principal had also come through with his investigation into the privacy breach. To protect themselves from legal action, Rick, Henry, and Kevin confessed Greg Davis took the picture and arranged for it to be distributed through the school's network. That's when it got out that Greg's partner in crime wasn't a female student he was having sex with, but a fellow named Brian... who Greg was having sex with.

All this drama largely passed above Andre's notice as he focused on completing his final year.

Another unfortunate outcome of the exposure was that his job dried up at the electronics store. His boss wouldn't look him in the eye but told him they had to lay off some staff. It seemed like he was the only one. Cassandra told him not to worry about it, as he should just concentrate on completing high school.

His math teacher introduced the idea of attending a math competition at the end of the school year. He'd been practicing with the more advanced principles and found it very relaxing. He wasn't sure if a competition was something he wanted to do, but he enjoyed stretching his math skills. Cassandra was pleased he was finding something to do after school that made him happy.

Their home life was getting better, too. Andre still got too excited when she sat close to him on the sofa when they watched movies.

Cassandra was finishing up her night college course, and her grades were the best in her class. She still came home late, sometimes smelling of alcohol, but he'd take care of her and tuck her into her bed. She always smiled so sweetly when he did that.

The school year was almost over, and he only had a couple more weeks to go. At the beginning of the year, Cassandra had him apply to several prestigious schools as his grades were at the top of his classes, and he was fast-tracking for a scholarship. He'd written essays, with her help, and two of his teachers wrote recommendation letters for him.

Months later, he'd received acceptance letters from two of the six he'd applied to, but the Massachusetts Institute of Technology was the one he chose.

Cassandra assured him that when she graduated from her course, she'd be able to get a job in Cambridge, and had already done some research into that, so he wouldn't be alone, and they could continue to live together. He was so relieved about that!

Math was his last class of the day, so once the rest of the students fled the building, he stayed behind to review the next section in the advanced principles textbook with the teacher.

This was quickly becoming his favorite class.

-=-

Ilsa Jäger smiled at Andre as he moved to the desk before hers at the front of the classroom. She stood and brought the textbook to him. She set it down and opened it to the next unit in the book.

She watched as his eyes scanned over the page, and he seemed eager to learn.

"Mr. Marin, you enjoy these sessions, don't you," Ilsa said.

He looked away from the textbook to glance at her and nod.

"You have a most exceptional mind. Very focused," she continued with a smile.

He nodded to her as his eyes returned to the book.

"During the competitions, they will try to distract you from the work. You can tune this out, can't you."

Andre nodded as he worked his way down the page, absorbing the formulas.

Ilsa nodded to herself and crossed the room to the door, which she closed after scanning the empty hallway outside. Watching Andre, she locked the door and closed the blinds over the door's glass. She shut off the overhead lights, leaving only the front of the room lit, but Andre never looked up. She smiled, walked to the back of the room, and crossed over to the windows.

Her classroom was in the oldest, original part of the building. Her antique casement windows faced a wall of hedges the administrators planted decades earlier to prevent easily distracted students from daydreaming. While she had no actual view or much natural light, she preferred the dark for working and was pleased to teach in the old room.

Principal Wallace was trying to replace the building with something new, but the promise of funding had yet to be realized. She'd refused the offer to move her classes to the ugly portables behind the school.

She began quietly closing the Venetian blinds from the back of the room to the front, keeping an eye on Andre, but he just turned the page to start reading the next part.

When all the blinds were closed, Ilsa felt safe in her dark little oasis of calm. This was her domain, where she was the apex predator, and her prey sat before her.

She was standing at the front of the classroom next to her desk. She collected a tissue from a box on the low bookcase by the window and carefully wiped her lipstick from her lips. It wouldn't do to leave evidence behind.

Since that morning months before, when she'd received a message with a special attachment, she'd been hunting this particular young man. She'd carefully studied him, reviewing his mannerisms and movements. She listened to his speech patterns when he chose to speak and monitored his social patterns. The more she knew about him, the more impatient she became to spring her trap to capture him. She wanted him, and he would be hers.

Ilsa was extremely aware of the dangers inherent in the game she was playing. To make a mistake was to lose everything she'd built for herself.

Math was her first love, and teaching it was her second. She knew math would never fail her, but her ability to continue teaching it depended very much upon her doing this perfectly.

Her third love should have been her husband, but the man she married was weak. When they'd met years earlier, she'd thought he'd be her perfect mate. He was from an affluent and influential family, he was a partner at the law firm he worked at, and she'd grown accustomed to the luxuries his wealth and position afforded her. He didn't even make a fuss when she insisted she'd keep her last name when they married. But now, he disappointed her in so many ways. His most unforgivable sin was his inability to excite her sexually. She'd been unable to achieve even the smallest orgasm from his efforts.

Then she saw the image of a young god amongst mortals.

His body was sculpted of flesh, but she knew he would feel like marble beneath her.

Ilsa had planned her movements and set her trap. She studied her prey and finally lured him in with the only bait that would work on such a kindred spirit. She could tell math was Andre's first love as well.

And now he was going to be hers.

She approached Andre from behind and saw he was already on the third page. A thrill shot through her as he understood!

"Math is a universal language which contains no lies or misconceptions. It is pure," she said softly and saw him nod slowly.

She unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it from her shoulders to drape it over the desk behind Andre. She undid her skirt and stepped out of it, placing it on the desk as well. Next, she slipped her panties down her long, toned legs. She smiled, as she was already wet with anticipation. She was standing behind him in just her bra, stockings, a garter belt, and her high-heeled shoes she'd slipped on before he arrived.

Ilsa was aware of the lustful stares the young men secretly aimed at her. The male faculty members weren't immune to her looks as well. She knew she was beautiful, with pale blue bedroom eyes, a slim nose, and naturally full lips. She only needed a subtle emphasis with eyeshadow, eyeliner, and lipstick to completely capture a man's attention. She wasn't quite in her forties yet and carefully maintained her looks for maximum impact. Her gleaming, straight blonde hair reached mid-back. Her muscles were firm and toned from vigilant gym visits.

This exercise had robbed her of her modest breasts, so she had her otherwise worthless husband pay for her new breast implants and worked her way up to an F cup bra. He wasn't pleased with his investment, protesting pathetically once she passed her C cup implants, but they weren't for him. She felt sexy, and she enjoyed how easy it was to manipulate men once she had them.

Her ultimate goal was right before her, and it was time to make her efforts pay off.

She reached out with her right hand and ran her fingers through the silky black hair on the back of his head. She felt him freeze at the sensation.

The prey was aware of the predator, but it was too late.

-=-

Andre's focus was on the pages before him, but amongst the sensory barrage flooding into his mind, he picked up the room was becoming darker. He knew Mrs. Jäger was telling him about the competition and distractions, so he assumed she was testing his ability to focus. She had no idea how much experience he had with this.

When she touched him, he froze as memories crashed through his mind. Sensations sticky, pungent, heat, and pain obliterated all other input as thoughts of Gloria crowded into his mind. The pressure of her endless demands and the feeling of her much larger body trapping his became jumbled up until he couldn't separate them. Jäger's touch became the only input for his focus. He felt himself begin to whimper and clamped down on that as the teacher's grip tightened.

It was happening again.

-=-

"Your hair is so fine... yet strong." Ilsa closed her fingers into a fist, gripping his hair as she slowly pulled his head back, turning his face upwards. She slid her other hand down inside his shirt collar and across his upper chest until she found his nipple. She pinched it and tugged, and his mouth opened in a gasp.

She trapped his mouth with hers and kissed him deeply, feeling his body trembling.

He was submitting to her!

She felt powerful and hungry for him at the same time, but she was going to enjoy him slowly.

Ilsa roughly tugged on his nipple once more, and he squirmed with the mix of pain and pleasure.

She pulled him to his feet and turned him to face her, her hand still gripping his hair. She saw his eyes were glassy. Lust or tears she couldn't tell, and truthfully, she didn't care. He was hers.

She used her left hand to yank up on his sweater and shirt until he got the idea and helped her lift them over his head. She had to release his hair, but the moment she did, she spun him around and marched him to the end of her desk, and forced him to bend over it. He finished pulling his sweater and shirt off while she reached under him and undid his belt and pants. She tugged them down, and they came off with his boots.

She stood and spun him around to face her, then seized his hair in both her hands and kissed him hard again as she pushed him back over her desk. She'd cleared the surface earlier in preparation or exactly this.

As he fell back onto the polished surface, she ended their kiss, stood, grabbed his underwear, and yanked them down.

There it was, that glorious cock she'd fantasized about for months. Only now, it was on its way to becoming stiff with need.

Fuck, it was beautiful! Her husbands couldn't compare. She wrapped her fingers around it and gave it a squeeze. Andre moaned once more, and a flash of tingles rushed through her. She cupped his testicles in her palm and thrilled over their weight.

She had to taste him. Keeping a firm grip on the root of his cock, Ilsa extended her tongue and leaned over him to stroke the thick head with the tip, licking up his pre-cum.

Fuck! She was getting so excited! Ilsa couldn't wait any longer, so she pressed her lips against the head and slowly opened her mouth to accept more and more of his magnificent cock into her mouth. Her head was spinning with desire, and she felt like a giddy schoolgirl, finally getting what she wanted after such a long time.

Andre was making odd, little sounds, but she ignored him as he tasted too good, and she almost had him to the back of her throat. He was so thick! Her pussy juices were running down her thighs, and she had to have him inside her. Now!

Reluctantly, she drew his cock from her mouth but kissed all the way down his shaft and sucked his heavy balls into her mouth to bathe them with her tongue. Shit! She was going to cum too soon if she didn't stop this! She stood up and walked boldly around her desk, as he looked up at her nervously. She grabbed his wrists, lifted them above his head, and pulled him further onto her desk so she'd have room to straddle him. Looking at his gorgeous, masculine body, stretched out across the wood desk, made her mouth water. There was so much she wanted to do with him, but there wasn't time today. She'd make alternate arrangements another day to spend more time with him.

Releasing his wrists, she moved to the middle of the desk and climbed on. She swung a leg over him and immediately sat, trapping his cock between them. She gasped at the heat pressing against her pussy lips and felt shocks run through her deliciously.

She reached back and undid the clasp on her bra. She let it slip down her arms and saw his eyes drawn to her large, round breasts with their thick and stiff nipples. She leaned down to press them against his face, rubbing them against his cheeks and mouth.

"Suck them!" she demanded, then gasped as she felt his tentative tongue pulling one of her nipples into his mouth. He stroked his tongue across and around the stiff bud, and she gasped aloud again as he sucked. Her hips were rocking uncontrollably, grinding against his stiff cock almost painfully, and Andre cried out sharply, releasing the nipple.

She sat up and looked down between their bodies, but he hadn't come yet. That was both surprising and pleasing, as she wasn't finished. She lifted herself up on her knees and reached between them to position the fat head at the lips of her pussy. She rubbed it back and forth, coating him with her juices. She shuddered and jolted each time she felt the head rub her clit until she couldn't take anymore and pushed down as he was lined up.

The head forced its way inside her, and she stopped as he was already stretching her wider than she'd felt before. It was glorious!

-=-

Gloria touched him in ways a stepmother shouldn't, and her touches were meant to hurt. She didn't want Andre to feel good, as she told him he didn't deserve it. She had to punish him, yet his flesh denied her as she triggered a response she couldn't control. For Andre, losing control over his body seemed to be the worst part of her violation. The memories swarmed like angry wasps, and he couldn't think as once more his body responded automatically.

"no..."

-=-

She looked down in surprise and saw his glassy eyes were looking up at her.

No? There was no stopping now!

She reached down and pinched his nipples hard as she gave him a stern look. "Hush." His eyes closed, and tears rolled back from his eyes into his hair.

Ilsa pushed harder and gasped loudly as he sank deeper inside. Fuck, he was opening her up! She lifted slightly, then slammed herself down. She slapped a hand over her mouth to contain her cries, as this was nothing like she'd ever felt before. One more lift and drop, and she was sitting on him with his thick cock buried deep inside her body. The head was pressing against her cervix a bit uncomfortably, but even the idea of that was so fucking sexy, she craved more. She could feel his rapid pulse throbbing inside her, and she needed to move. She began drawing him out, then slamming back down to get it all back inside. She did it again, then a little faster. It was getting easier as she bathed his cock in her wetness. She was also opening up to his girth, and that felt incredible. It all felt so illicitly sexy. She leaned over his body, pressing her fat tits against the hard muscles of his chest, and she realized she was right. He did feel like marble under her! He was hot, smooth marble that trembled and shuddered.

She sank her fingers into his hair and thrust her tongue into his mouth as she pounded her pussy over his cock faster and faster.

She pulled back from the kiss. "Squeeze my tits in your big hands!" she insisted, then returned to kissing him.

He brought his hands to her large breasts and squeezed, rubbing his thumbs over her stiff nipples. She felt the power in his hands and knew he could inflict great pain with them, but she was in control.

That was the trigger for Ilsa, and she grunted into his mouth as her pussy clamped down on his cock, holding him deep inside. She pulled his hair, and he moaned, his cock finally surging hot come into her depths.

"FUCK YES!" she screamed internally. Feeling the heat of his come filling her was a sensation she thought she might never feel again. The fantasy she'd maintained since she'd received the picture had been exceeded by the actual experience. Andre was everything she'd dreamed he could be.

She wouldn't give him up. Now that she'd had this taste, she wanted more and in different ways. She still had an orifice she would need to introduce to his cock gradually, as he was dauntingly large. She shivered in anticipation.

Andre was shivering too, and she smiled down at him. She kissed his cheeks tenderly, and he closed his eyes. He tried to turn his head, but she took a grip on his hair and forced his lips back to hers. She kissed him hard and felt him give in to her once more. Fuck, she loved that!

She knew their time today was limited, so she reluctantly pulled herself from his softening erection. She touched herself and jolted from how sensitive she still was. That put a grin on her face.

Gingerly, she swung her leg back over him to stand next to the desk. She grabbed a tissue and dabbed herself dry before putting her panties back on.

"Get dressed," she commanded, and he gradually rolled from the desk onto his feet. He bent to pick up his clothes and pulled them on.

She put on her skirt and blouse and buttoned it as she watched Andre's beautiful muscles ripple as he tugged on his shirt and sweater.

As he finished, she moved closer, yanked his hood off his head, and took his face between her hands. He wouldn't look at her. He was looking down. Gripping his hair, she forced his head back, and he gasped once more before she took his mouth with hers. She felt him respond reluctantly, but she made him do it. He submitted. A shiver ran through her.

She pulled back, and his eyes glanced up into hers.

"I will let you take the textbook home tonight. You will study the next exercises and return it to me at the end of our next class," she said firmly, and he tried to nod. "Say it."

"Yes," he whispered.

"You will tell no one what we did here today. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he whispered again.

She smiled, as she knew their secret would not come from his lips. He was hers.

"Good. You may go," she said, releasing his hair but leaving her hands next to his head. He glanced at her crooked smile, then stepped back from her to collect his things. The textbook went into his backpack.

Once his hood was back in place, he hastened to the door, tried it unsuccessfully, then undid the lock so he could open the door and get out.

Ilsa walked along the windows, returning the Venetian blinds to their open state. She walked back to her desk and used another tissue to clean up a little spilled cum as she smiled. She could feel the rest of his seed in her, and a thrill rushed through her. She wouldn't get pregnant this time. The timing was another element of her plan, and she was safe today. She'd be safe for the rest of the week as well. A smile spread across her lips at that delicious thought.

She used a cloth from a desk drawer to give the polished surface of her desk a quick wipe to hide the telltale smudge marks from their skin, then wrapped the cummy tissues with it and tucked the cloth into her briefcase to dispose of at home.

She picked up the briefcase, then ran her fingertips across the surface of her desk one more time, reliving the experience in her memory.

She was looking forward to tomorrow afternoon.

-=-

Andre was moving through the empty halls of the school, his brain filled with a chaos he didn't know how to deal with. When he reached his locker, he heard the clang of metal plates. He turned and saw the new weight room was open. His feet led him to the door, and he walked inside.

Two members of the basketball team were using the functional trainers. They immediately stopped and scowled at him, but he ignored them and dropped his backpack next to a free machine. He desperately yanked off his sweater and shirt and set up the device for standing bicep curls. He set the pin for most of the stack and grabbed the handles. He struggled with the first lift, but the second was easier, and the third rose quickly. He pushed himself with clenched teeth and a low growl leaking from his lips. He felt his muscles burning, and this felt... cleansing.

He reset the machine for standing chest press and glanced at the others through his hair as he forced the huge stack of plates to rise again. Their scowls had become nervous glances, but he continued to ignore them as she pushed through set after set, growling through each. He went through a series of standing shoulder presses, reverse tricep extensions, upright rows, and single-arm lateral raises, adjusting the weight stack for each but keeping the weight at the upper limits of his capabilities.

He was deep into his kneeling ab crunches when he saw feet approaching. Leather shoes and two pairs of sneakered feet following.

"Mr. Marin, you weren't given permission to use this equipment today," a voice said in a stiff tone. A hand touched Andre's shoulder.

"NO!" Andre roared as he yanked back. The full-weight stack accelerated Andre's movement, throwing him back to crash into the wall next to the machine as the weights slammed home with a loud clang. He released the handle as he panted, leaning against the wall. "DON'T TOUCH ME!" he snarled. Mr. Cochrane was leaning away from him with a terrified expression on his ashen face. The two students behind him looked equally spooked.

Andre quickly moved to his clothes and pulled them back on as he rushed from the room. His muscled ached from his overworking them, but his mind was clear, and that felt like a tender mercy. The moment he was out the door, he was running for home, keeping track of the traffic before crossing the street this time.

His muscles protested the added strain, but he pushed through as it kept his mind occupied.

He desperately needed that now.

-=-

Mr. Cochrane rushed to the principal's office with the two students following. He barged in and looked at the secretary. "Is he in?" the slim man gasped, pointing to Wallace's office.

"Yes--"

He didn't wait for her to finish before he grasped the handle and pushed into the office.

"Principal Wallace! I need to report being attacked by a student!" he rasped excitedly.

The two young men at his back looked at him oddly.

Harry Wallace watched the older man with a weary stare. "Was it one of these young men or both?" he asked.

"We didn't--" they began, but the teacher waved them to silence.

"They are witnesses! They came to me to say Andre Marin was using the new weight machines without permission. I investigated and saw he was there, not wearing the proper gym uniform. He was topless and improperly using the equipment. I told him to stop, and he attacked me."

Once more, the two student's expressions didn't back the geography teacher's story.

"Mr. Marin struck you?" Wallace asked.

"No, but his actions were violent!" Cochrane insisted.

Harry waited for more, but the teacher was just slowly trying to catch his breath.

"What? How was he violent?"

One of the students couldn't hold back any longer. "He didn't like it when Mr. Cochrane touched his shoulder. He screamed, don't touch me."

The teacher scowled at the young man but turned to the principal and nodded emphatically.

Wallace scowled. "So let me get this straight. You entered the room, saw he was topless, and touched him. He then yelled at you for touching him. Outside of this violent yelling, did he inflict any physical violence upon you after your unwanted touch?"

The teacher was staring at the principal with his mouth working silently.

Harry raised his hand to stop the man. He looked at the others. "Is that what you saw?" They nodded, and he returned it. "Where is Marin now?"

"He left," the talkative student replied.

The principal nodded. "I'll speak with him in the morning about asking for permission and wearing the proper attire before using the equipment. Mr. Cochrane, this was not an attack. His yell may have been unexpected, but the same could be said of your touching him." He raised his hands to stop the man from arguing. "Is that all you had to report?"

The teacher glared at the principal, then nodded stiffly.

"Please close the door on your way out. Good day," Wallace said with a nod.

The three filed out, and the students rushed off to go home, leaving the geography teacher standing in the outer office with a deep feeling of dissatisfaction.

Movement caught his eye, and he saw Ilsa Jäger strutting past the windows on her way home. She was applying dark lipstick to her tempting mouth. She glanced through the windows and flashed a predatory smile at him.

A tingle shot through his old body, but this just caused his disappointment to flare. He should also head home as his wife Linda would be going out to play bridge with her friends soon.

What an exciting life he led. With a sigh, he left.

-=-

Andre's muscles shook as he stood under the hot spray of the shower at home. His mind dragged him back to places he didn't want to be.

He'd screamed at his geography teacher. Why couldn't he have done that with Mrs. Jäger? He felt his mind shying away from the idea. He didn't understand her control over him. He was too frightened to examine it closely, as that just brought memories of Gloria to mind.

His knees hit the floor of the tub as his leg muscles finally gave in to their trembling, a weakness reflecting his thoughts about his stepmother. He slipped down into the tub, unable to make his muscles respond as memories of the large woman filled his mind, and his strength failed him once more.

-=-

Cassandra was weary from work and looked forward to relaxing at home with Andre. As she reached her front door, she glanced across the hall and saw an eviction notice taped to TJ's door. The building manager found a reason to eject a tenant. Dealing drugs from the unit seemed to be sufficient. They certainly took their sweet time to post the notice. As far as she knew, TJ had been in jail for months.

She unlocked her door and slipped inside, locking up behind herself. She kicked off her sneakers.

"Andre?" she called out.

Silence... no, the shower was running. She walked over to the bathroom door. "Andre, I'm home!"

Nothing.

The water was still running, and she began to worry. "Andre? Are you okay?"

She tried the door, and it wasn't locked, so she opened it slightly. "Andre, are you in there?"

Still nothing, so she opened it fully and saw Andre lying in the tub with the shower spraying on him.

"ANDRE!" she screamed as she rushed forward. She saw his eyes were open slightly, but they were rolling. She quickly shut off the taps and reached into the tub to touch his face. His eyes opened a little wider, and he saw Cassandra.

"What happened?" she asked. "Did you fall?"

He nodded.

"Shit! I'll call an ambulance--"

"No... I'm... not injured," he whispered, so weary.

"You may have hit your head!" she said crossly.

"No. Muscles cramped. Ran home."

Cassandra froze. Why did he run from the school this time? "Did something happen at school?" she asked with dread.

Andre's eyes flicked up to hers.

"I yelled at Mr. Cochrane," he said hesitantly.

Cassandra frowned. Andre yelled? That didn't sound like him. "Why? What did he do?"

Andre's eyes moved away from her face, and his left hand unconsciously scrubbed at his opposite shoulder. "He... he touched me."

Her eyes flared with anger. "Where did he touch you?" Andre glanced at her, then away. His left hand pointed to his shoulder, then went back to scrubbing the area.

Cassandra relaxed a little. "Your shoulder? While you were wearing your sweater?"

He shook his head. "I was working out on the machine. I took off my sweater and shirt. He... he touched my skin." His left hand went from scrubbing to scratching, and she quickly placed her hand on top to stop him from injuring himself.

Andre's hand stopped moving immediately as his eyes looked up at hers.

"Your shoulder is clean now. You don't need to scrub anymore," she said. She could feel his trembling and wondered what really happened to him. She was sure he was holding something back. "You're not upset that I'm touching you."

He shook his head slightly. "Only you."

This was the second time she'd heard him say that. She had to know.

"What do you mean?" she asked gently.

"Your touch... is good... I don't feel... unclean," he breathed as his eyes looked away.

She was rocked by his confession and her face flushed. Then she caught his right hand moving to hide his growing erection from her. She finally realized he was naked! Of course, he was naked! He was in the shower! She looked away, completely flustered.

"So, you weren't hurt in the tub?" she asked as she pulled her hand back.

"No. My muscles are weak. Overworked on the machine."

"What machine?" she asked, eager to find a conversation thread to distract herself from the fact that he was gloriously naked, and she hadn't realized this until now.

"The school's new functional trainers. Weight machines. I was... exercising when the teacher touched me," he said awkwardly.

She looked at his face, keeping her eyes from roaming. "I'll speak with the principal again. I'll tell him to make sure they won't touch you anymore," she said, and his eyes locked on hers. She sucked in a breath as she saw his gratitude. She smiled, but she had to look away, as the urge to look down at his naked body was overwhelming.

"C-can you get out of the tub on your own?" she asked.

He struggled to get onto his hands and knees. She couldn't stop herself from glimpsing his cock, and a thrill rushed through her. She suddenly stood and faced away to leave.

"Cassandra?"

The plaintive tone in his voice froze her in place. "Yes?"

"I-I need help."

She grabbed his towel and draped it over his shoulders and back. Then she got her hands under his armpits and helped lift him to his feet. She could feel his muscles trembling, so he really must have overdone his workout. "No more pushing yourself so hard on that machine!" she scolded, a little more harshly than she intended.

"Yes. Sorry."

She got him out of the tub and over to the sink, where he clung to the edge of the counter to keep himself on his feet. He wouldn't be able to dry himself as he needed his arms to stay upright, so she pushed the towel up over his head and used it to squeeze the water from his hair. He had so much of it, and it was beautiful! She was unaware of her effect on him with the gentle tugs on his hair until she caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror. His eyes were closed, but his blissful expression sent a zing right to her most intimate places.

Face burning, she rubbed the towel over his back and realized his muscles felt like granite. His whole body seemed a little larger like it had been slightly inflated. This drew her attention back to his cock, and that seemed more than slightly larger. Fuck! It was so thick!

Giving her head a sharp shake, she rubbed down his arms and quickly did his legs while staring at the muscles of his ass. So close!

"Where are your shorts?" she asked sharply.

He jolted out of his daze. "Um, sorry. I forgot to bring them. They're in my drawer."

She left the bathroom and marched into the living room, her pussy tingling madly. She took a moment to take some deep breaths and then collected a shirt and his shorts. She went back to the bathroom and pulled the shirt over his head, pulling the rest of his hair up and out of the neck hole. He did one arm at a time. She knelt behind him once more and made him lift one foot, then the next to get his shorts on. She stood and pulled them up.

Andre grunted when the waistband got caught under his balls. "Sorry," she said contritely as she pulled the elastic outwards to give them room. Something hot slapped the back of her hand. Then the shorts were up.

"You can get to the living room, yes?" she asked him stiffly. She noticed his face was red.

Andre glanced at her red face in the mirror. "Yes. I can make it."

She spun and went into her bedroom, closing the door with a thump.

Quickly stripping off her damp clothes, she pressed her hand against her lips as she recalled the moment when his thick cock slapped against it. Her body throbbed with need.

She grabbed the dildo from her end table drawer and stretched out on the bed. She needed to calm this need, or it would be impossible to be around him tonight. Then she remembered that her last class was tonight. The final exam! All the more reason to hurry.

Cassandra needed no lubricant for the toy, as she was already well prepared when she pressed it against her lower lips. They eagerly parted, and she thrust it deep inside. Fuck!

Faster and faster, she thrust the toy into her as she continued to hold the back of her hand against her lips. This blocked her cries as she suddenly hit her peak. Waves of bliss washed over her, and she slowly returned to her body. She stretched, enjoying the slowly dissipating tingles.

Swinging her legs off the bed, she sighed as a funk settled over her. She needed to get control over herself. She forced the mood away, as tonight was too important to derail. She needed to get moving. She grabbed tights, a loose sweater, and fresh underwear. Then she took a breath and opened her door to peek into the hall. She saw Andre had almost reached the end of the hall as he was moving slowly and carefully. She ducked out of her room into the bathroom and closed the door.

She didn't linger in the shower and quickly dressed once she was dry. Walking down the hall, she saw Andre struggling to open his bed.

"Let me do that," she insisted.

He moved back, and she quickly opened the sofa bed for him and eased him onto it, leaning him back against the pillows.

"I'll make you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for dinner, then I have to go," she said.

"Good luck tonight!" he said with a smile.

She grinned at him and rushed into the kitchen. She made him two sandwiches, then hustled out to hand him the plate and placed a glass of milk on the end table next to the sofa.

"I'm off!" she said with a smile.

"Thank you, Cassandra. You're going to ace the exam," he said confidently.

She smiled and nodded. Collecting her stuff, she slipped her running shoes on and rushed out of the apartment.

As she climbed into the bus outside the building, she felt the last of the tingles in her body calming. Andre looked so good on that sofa bed it was almost impossible to stop herself from climbing on next to him.

She pushed that aside as she had to concentrate on the exam and the better future it would bring them.

-=-

Andre listened to his sister lock the door and breathed a sigh of relief. His cock was going to break in two if he didn't release the pressure. He put his dinner on the end table next to the milk and grabbed some tissues from the box there.

Next, he struggled to push his shorts down to his thighs, and his erection throbbed as it was finally released from its prison.

Taking it in his hand, he couldn't get over how hard he'd become! He stroked it up and down as his mind took him to the memory of Cassandra drying his hair. He felt a sudden surge of lust and stroked himself faster. He didn't know why her grip on his hair felt so much different from Mrs. Jäger's. There was almost no comparison to how those two separate sensations felt. When his sister touched his body, even through the towel, it felt like she was cleansing him. His body no longer felt defiled or impure by the teacher's actions. When Cassandra touched his cock--Andre grunted as his orgasm struck hard and fast, bliss blasting through his mind and leaving him gasping as he caught his cum in the tissues.

Panting from the exertion, he carefully cleaned himself and grabbed more tissues to finish that off.

He needed to dispose of the evidence, which meant a long, painful walk back to the bathroom.

He sighed. It had to be done. He didn't want Cassandra to know of his guilty pleasure.

When he finally made it back to the bed, he ate the sandwiches, drank the milk, and took the dishes to the sink to wash them. Moving around, as painful as it was, seemed to relieve the tightness in his muscles. He shuffled back to the bathroom and brushed his teeth. His strength was reaching its limit, so he made his way back to bed, pulled off his shirt, and tucked himself in with a grunt. He left the lights on for Cassandra.

With her face and her soothing touch fresh in his memory, he felt sleep dragging him under.

-=-

Andre awoke to the most wonderful sensation. He was on his back, but his entire left side was being pressed against something warm and soft.

The lights were off, and that meant Cassandra was home... and sleeping in his bed!

She was breathing on him, and he picked up the spicy scent of rum.

She'd celebrated with her friends after the exam.

God, she felt good!

Her large breasts were squeezed against him, and one of her legs was resting on his. That felt too good, but he didn't want to wake her.

Once more, he marveled at how different her touch was compared to anyone else's.

Pondering that, he drifted off.

Chapter 11

Cassandra woke, rubbing her thighs together as she felt the most delicious sensations.

At first, she wasn't sure where she was, and her mind went back to the night before.

The exam had been easier than expected, even with the trick question that could have cost her fifteen points if she'd missed it, and she was elated when she left the school. Several of the ladies in her class joined her, and they went to a nearby pub to celebrate. She'd been drinking rum and cokes--a hand squeezed her breast, and her breath gusted out as it felt so fucking good!

Then she felt the ridge of fat cock slowly rubbing up and down between her ass cheeks. That felt even better.

She suddenly recognized the lamp on the table next to her sofa. She was in Andre's bed.

Andre's arm was around her, and his hand was massaging her breast.

He was spooning her, and that was his cock sliding between her ass cheeks.

She sucked in a sharp breath in surprise.

The noise made Andre wake with a snort. He suddenly yanked his arm back and tried to slide back from her, but she'd already pushed him right to the edge, so he fell out of bed with a thump.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Andre exclaimed fearfully from the floor.

She sat up and looked at him, raising her palms to calm him. "Shhh, it's okay, Andre. It's not your fault, and I'm not upset." She shook her head and rubbed at her bleary eyes. "I don't remember getting into your bed last night when I got home. I had some drinks... probably too many." She glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes before, her alarm would have gone off, anyway. She wouldn't be late.

"I'm going to take my shower," she said and slid out of the other side of the bed. She felt Andre's eyes on her ass as she walked around the corner to head to her bedroom.

She turned off her alarm, grabbed some fresh underwear, and went into the bathroom.

While the hot water sprayed down on her, she slid her fingers into her pussy and finished the orgasm she'd been building to.

As she came back to Earth, she shook her head in dismay. What the fuck was she going to do? Her libido was taking control of her life! She needed to find a man, other than her brother, who got her motor revving as much as he did. She needed this, and so did Andre. He didn't need his sister obsessing over him.

Then she recalled she needed to call the principal to tell him about the touching. She'd do that on the way to work. Speaking of which, she had to get moving.

She'd be getting her grade later this week, and the following week Andre would be graduating. They already talked about not attending the actual ceremony. He didn't want to go, and that was fine with her. She was proud enough of his achievements. Especially considering what he'd gone through.

-=-

Andre made sure he made lunch for his sister, and her stuff was all ready for her when she left. She smiled sweetly at him as she headed out the door.

He was still shaken by what had happened this morning. Waking with his fingers buried in the softness of Cassandra's large breast while he humped her round ass was... he couldn't think of something to compare it to. It was a pinnacle experience, to say the least. That said, he'd been terrified that she would hate him for the liberties he'd taken in his sleep. But once more, his sister's compassion and understanding surpassed his expectations. He wasn't worthy of her, but he was blessed with every moment he had with her.

He made his breakfast and got ready for school.

His body felt heavy this morning. The stiffness in his muscles was still there, but he hoped it would fade as he walked to school.

Speaking of which, it was time to go. He'd be able to study the math text in the library before the day began if he left now.

-=-

Harry Wallace sent out yet another message to the teachers who had Andre Marin in their class. This time it was a notice that they were not to physically touch him. He carefully worded the message to ensure no one was targeted as a toucher, but he also indicated there would be no leniency for offenders.

He'd had a call this morning from Andre's sister, stating she'd come home the previous night to find her brother in a state of severe distress from being touched by Mr. Cochrane. Unsolicited touching was not something her brother could deal with after his previous privacy breach. Ms. Marin requested he make that clear to his teachers.

He agreed to her request and crafted the message to send to the same recipients he'd informed about the new seating arrangements for Andre.

The school year was almost over, and Harry was looking forward to its completion.

-=-

Ilsa sat in her car, staring at the email from the principal as waves of cold rushed through her body.

She was convinced last night that Andre was completely under her control and wouldn't speak a word of what they'd done to a soul.

Now, this.

Still, the message didn't seem like the response one could expect from such an activity. She looked again and saw the email had only been sent to a few teachers. Each of them had Andre in their class. It was the same recipient list as the previous message for moving his desk to the back of the room.

What did that mean?

Ilsa frowned as she decided she couldn't have been wrong about her control over him. If Andre had told anyone that one of his teachers touched him sexually, this message would not have been sent out.

She got out of her car, locked it, and walked toward the school.

She'd be extra careful today, and if she felt there was any possibility of disclosure, she'd postpone their activity.

The school year was almost over, and she'd waited so long to make her move. Now it felt like she was running out of time.

Ilsa spent the previous evening trying to work out a plan to get Andre alone someplace where she could properly explore the possibilities. She determined the best place was her home, which she'd have to herself next week. Then her husband told her he'd canceled his trip to New York as they went to bed. She'd been so furious with him she took forever to get to sleep.

She sighed as she entered the building. She smiled at the principal, who was approaching the door to his outer office. She lifted her cell as she held his eyes and gave him a curious look. It was a bold move if she was suspected of sexual interference, but Wallace just smiled, then rubbed his face wearily. He glanced around and saw they were alone.

"Mr. Marin was very agitated when he got home last night. He informed his sister that a teacher had touched him while he was working out. I've already spoken with Mr. Cochrane, but Ms. Marin was insistent I communicate this message to all his teachers."

"I find it difficult to believe Mr. Cochrane is a toucher," she said, containing her own relief.

The principal snorted and shook his head. "He isn't. He just touched the boy's shoulder to get his attention, but Andre's earlier exposure issue has made him overly sensitive to that. So, no touching."

Ilsa smiled and nodded to Harry, then moved on to get to her classroom.

She struggled to control her expression, as her relief was profound.

She'd been right. Andre was hers. He'd kept their secret even from his sister.

It just made her anticipation for tonight's interlude that much more feverish!

-=-

Steph and Brigette stood outside the library, keeping an eye on their target. They were also aware that the school year, and their high school career, was ending within a week.

Both had cut loose from their idiot boyfriends and felt they'd made the right decision there. However, they had some unfinished business, and it was sitting inside the room before them.

They weren't sure why they were trying so hard to make friends with the reclusive student. He'd made it clear he didn't want to party with them. Of course, he'd also said he didn't hate them.

He was attractive when he showed his face. His body was intensely sexy. They knew he was super smart, as he seemed to ace all his tests and exams. But he was terribly awkward, socially. That's what they wanted to help with, and if they got closer to that sexy body of his in the process, that would be good, too.

Mary and Lindsay told them it was time to give up, and Brigette was almost convinced, but Steph was tenacious, and Brigette always followed her lead.

"Here he comes," she said to Steph.

As Andre stepped out into the hall on his way to homeroom, Brigette and Steph stepped up beside him to keep pace.

"Good morning, Andre," Brigette said with a smile.

He quickly turned his head, and dark eyes flicked to her face, then to Steph's. He nodded briefly.

"The school year is almost over. Do you have plans for college?" Steph asked.

His eyes returned to her. "MIT."

Steph grinned widely. "That's a great school! Congratulations."

"Very impressive, but you get great grades, so I guess it's not surprising," Brigette offered.

"You'll be moving away pretty soon, I guess," Steph suggested.

He nodded but said nothing.

Brigette glanced at Steph, who nodded to get her to continue.

"Before you head off to Cambridge and the college environment, maybe we could get together, and we could give you some pointers. You know, things to watch out for at college?"

"No, thank you." Andre dipped his head to them politely, then picked up his pace and left them behind.

Brigette sagged. "They were right. We have to give up. He just doesn't know how to, or want to, connect with people."

Steph watched Andre with a frustrated look as he slipped into the classroom.

She knew Brigette was right... but there was something about Andre that made her want to keep trying.

Maybe Kevin was right, too. Maybe she was stupid.

-=-

Andre sat at the back of the class and did his best to not look at Mrs. Jäger during the period. He'd completed the work, and he knew it was perfect, so he didn't really need to follow along during the class. She didn't call on him, though he knew she knew he had the solutions.

He noticed Steph MacGraw glanced back at him once. She had an odd expression on her face, and he didn't know what it meant.

Soon the class was over, and the teacher mentioned they'd be doing a review tomorrow. Everyone knew the year was over, but they were coasting to the end. There was just tomorrow, then one last weekend before the last week of school.

The last bell had rung, so the students were quickly fleeing the room and the school. He remained where he was and caught another curious look from Steph as she joined the mass exodus.

He saw the teacher walk to the door as the second to last student left. She gestured for him to move to the desk he'd been in yesterday. As he did, she remained by the door, watching the halls quickly empty.

Andre pulled the advanced math textbook from his bag and opened it to the section she'd told him to review.

She left the door open and wandered back to stand next to him.

"You read it?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Did any of the exercises give you any trouble?" she asked with a hint of a smile on her lips.

He nodded. "Number three couldn't be completed. A typo in the formula? I moved the closing bracket to the left and was able to solve the problem."

"Very good. That formula was fixed in the textbook's reprint, but I think the error is more helpful for identifying truly gifted students." She smiled at him proudly. "Give me your work."

He handed her a piece of paper he'd written out his answers on. She reviewed this as she walked back to the door. She stepped to the edge of the hall and looked in all directions as she pretended to read the paper.

She stepped back in and closed the door, flipping the lock. She looked at him. "Start reading the next unit."

He glanced at her, but she was looking at his paper, so he turned the page in the book and began to read.

His chest felt tight, but he didn't know what to do about it, so he kept his head down.

Maybe today they'd just do the math?

-=-

She knew he'd catch the error, and she was very pleased he'd gone beyond and offered a solution and the correct one. Very few students had made an attempt when she tested them on it.

She closed the blinds on the door, then turned off two sets of overhead lights, leaving the front ones on. She saw Andre's head was over the page. She smiled and repeated her trip around her classroom, preparing it for their time together. She felt her excitement make her juices flow.

Soon she'd enjoy this beautiful man once more.

-=-

From her vantage point of the bathroom doorway down the hall from the math class, Steph saw the teacher had Andre sitting up at the front reading a book. When Mrs. Jäger walked toward the door, Steph ducked back and listened.

After she heard the door closing, the snap of its lock echoed down the empty corridor. Steph stepped out of her hiding place and walked toward the door, wondering why she'd locked them in. Then she saw the light under the door dim. She was turning the lights off?

Steph rushed forward, but the blinds on the door had no gaps, and she could hear nothing. She wasn't about to lie on the floor to try listening through the crack under the door.

This was seriously suss. There had to be another way to see what was going on in there.

-=-

Ilsa made her way along the windows, closing the old blinds while keeping an eye on Andre, but he was eagerly devouring the pages with his eyes. She smiled, as they were kindred spirits.

Once the windows were taken care of, she moved behind him and removed her clothes. Her nipples felt hard as diamond as if they anticipated his mouth on them.

She slipped her fingers into his hair once more and sighed at its silky softness. She felt Andre freeze in place and slowly tightened her grip as she brought her mouth down to his ear.

"I'm very pleased with you, Andre," she purred. "My network told me you were very obedient and kept our secret. That obedience deserves a reward."

She pulled his head back and saw his eyes had that glassy, dazed appearance once more. His lips were open, and she pressed hers to them as she slipped her tongue into his mouth. He tasted so good!

Ilsa pulled back from the kiss, then tugged him to his feet. She grabbed the hem of his sweater and shirt, pulling both up his body. He wasn't resisting, but she had to make him lift his arms.

Once his torso was exposed to her eyes, Ilsa ran her hands over the hard planes of his chest and stomach. Fuck! His muscles were so hard, yet his skin was so soft!

She pinched and tugged his nipples, causing him to gasp and lean toward her.

Ilsa turned him and walked him back to the edge of her desk as she held his nipples. Once he was leaning on the desk, she released her grip and squatted down before him to undo his belt and pants. These, and his underwear, went down his legs, and she tugged his boots off with his clothes. Then she was staring at his thickening cock. Her mouth watered, and she wasted no further time before taking the head into her mouth.

Andre moaned, sending a shiver through her body. Gripping the base, she pumped her mouth over the end of his cock, forcing more and more of it inside. He wasn't completely erect yet, which meant his cock wasn't as large as it would become, but it also wasn't completely stiff. She needed her hands to stuff it deeper. Her eyes were rolling back with the sheer sexiness of her efforts. She could feel his pulse throbbing in her mouth as his cock continued to stiffen.

Finally, he swelled to full size, and for just a moment, Ilsa felt trapped by the thick meat filling her mouth, pressing against the back of her throat. Her mouth drooled uncontrollably as she fought her impulse to pull away.

Her instinct finally won, and she yanked her head back, spit splashing across her cleavage. She panted as her eyes drank in the slick dark skin of Andre's swollen cock.

He was panting too, arms behind him, braced against the desk's surface.

Ilsa grinned wickedly as she held his eyes. "Now for your reward."

She chuckled deeply as she saw his eyes widen. She imagined he probably thought he'd already received it.

Reaching back, she undid her bra clasp and freed her big tits. Her cleavage was already lubricated, and his cock was slick with spit, so when she squeezed her heavy breasts around his cock, it easily slid between them. His hot flesh was enveloped by her firm breasts, and Andre moaned quietly once more.

Ilsa's face was heating up as her lust surged. Pulling sexy sounds from this beautiful man with her big fake tits was making her incredibly excited.

She needed to get this cock inside her now!

-=-

Steph cursed as she pushed her way through the prickly hedges to get near the windows to Jäger's classroom. Her arms were scratched by nasty dead branches, but she'd finally gotten into the gap between the building and the row of hedges.

She stared in dismay at the closed blinds. Cursing silently, she looked for an opening, but the only things she saw were the notches in the Venetian blinds for the guide strings. One of the slats had a triangular chip missing from one of these notches. It was higher than she could look through, but she had an idea. She pulled out her cell, turned on its camera, and set it to video. Starting the recording, she lifted the phone up and carefully placed it against the window's surface. She silently nudged it upward until the camera lens lined up with the small triangular hole in the blinds.

The picture was blurry, and she was about to give up when the image suddenly focused sharply on the desk inside. She stared in shock at the cell's screen.

Holy Fuck!

-=-

Andre was stretched out over the desk once more, pinned there under the teacher's body. Mrs. Jäger was sitting on his cock, trapping it against his stomach as she ground her pussy along its length. She was facing his feet, so he turned his face away from her to stare at the windows.

"Now to get this monster inside me," she moaned.

She got her feet under her and lifted herself up as she gripped his cock to point it at her wet pussy. She couldn't maintain the awkward position and dropped, driving half of him deep into her.

"FUCK!" she gasped aloud, the word echoing slightly in the empty classroom. She froze, looking toward the door. She was squirming atop his cock, trying to keep herself from dropping further.

Andre felt her muscles shaking, and fearing her anger, he reached down and placed his hands under her ass cheeks, taking the load on his arms. She gasped quietly, then looked over her shoulder at him in surprise.

When no one came to investigate her cry, she relaxed and slid her feet back slightly to give herself more leverage. She lifted herself until just the head of his cock enjoyed the heat of her pussy, then she allowed herself to drop slowly to take more inside. She did this several times, dropping further each time. Finally, she knocked his arms away and let herself fall with a wet slap against his body.

"Fuck, you feel so good inside me. You're the only one who fills me up so well. My husband's pathetic penis can't compare to this!" she sighed as she rocked back and forth, getting accustomed to his girth.

He wasn't moving to help intensify the sensations, so she reached back and twisted his nipple. He gave out a quiet cry of pain, then moved for her. She smiled.

Andre gripped the sides of the desk and turned his face away once more. The sensations flooding his body were intense and good, but he didn't want to be experiencing them with this woman. He felt unclean. He gasped as she lifted and dropped herself on him.

He hoped she finished soon.

-=-

Ilsa bit her plump lower lip as the intense sensations rippled through her pussy. Her legs were tiring, but she was almost there. Her earlier drop had nearly caused her to lose control, as it sent such a sharp and intense spike of bliss and pain through her at once.

Now, her pussy was aching, but her release was racing closer with every little movement. She was perspiring from the effort to keep herself balanced over his gorgeous cock. She was completely infatuated with it.

Her legs were threatening to cramp, so she looked over her shoulder. "I'm almost there! Help lift me!" she snapped.

She saw he was looking away, but there was a tear on his face when he turned toward her. She didn't want to see that! "Help me!" she said crossly.

He put his hands under her ass again and lifted her almost all the way off his cock. Her legs let her drop on his body with a wet slap. He then lifted her again with a grunt of effort.

Again and again, she crashed down onto his cock. Her head was thrown back as her mind filled with bliss. It was heaven, and she was right on the edge of a colossal orgasm. Almost there!

She wanted more, so she pushed with her legs as he lifted. The head slipped out and slipped up to press against her asshole. She yelped and tried to twist clear as she grabbed at his hands. Instead, she knocked them away as her feet slipped on the sweaty desk surface.

Andre's slick cock speared deep into her ass until she landed on his body with a thump.

Ilsa's mouth was open in a silent scream as her ass felt like it might be on fire. She toppled backward, and Andre caught her, lowering her to rest back against his chest. His hands didn't know where to go, so he moved them to her breasts to pinch and tug on her nipples.

She didn't know her jaw could drop open any further, but it did when he grabbed her thick nipples between his fingers and thumbs to roughly pull them. Her mind threatened to white out as the most intense release she'd ever experienced in her life ripped through her. She felt her pussy squirting, and her senses filled with the blaze of a blast furnace.

Her head was tucked next to Andre's, upside down and facing the windows as huge tremors shook her body. Her tongue was sticking out as it felt like it was trying to leave her body, driven away by this mighty intruder.

Suddenly, she felt Andre squeezing her tits hard as his cock jetted stream after stream of hot cum deep into her bowels. She gasped again as it felt so primal and good!

Her ass was still the focal point of an intense burning, and she knew she was in trouble, but her body wouldn't let her do anything about it. She was still coming down from her bliss/pain.

Andre quickly released her breasts and pulled his hands back to grip the desk. This jostled Ilsa, and new fire erupted from her ass.

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck," she moaned pitifully.

Her body didn't want to move, but she needed to get up and remove this beast from inside her ass.

"Andre, sit us up, slowly," she whispered in a strained voice.

He got his elbows against the desktop and pushed to get them moving upward.

When she was sitting upright on his lap, gritting her teeth against the pain, he spun their legs off the edge of the desk and slid them off onto their feet.

"Slow! Do it slow--"

He slid his hands under her armpits and lifted her in the air, pulling his softening cock from her ass in one quick movement.

She yelped weakly then again as he set her down on her chair. She was wincing from the pain as he rushed to the bookcase to grab some tissues.

Ilsa struggled to open her eyes to look at him and saw he was frantically wiping his cock with the napkins. Then he rushed to pull on his clothes and fled from the room before she could get her wits together to speak. She huffed at the closed door. She wanted to plan for the weekend but considering how she felt at the moment, waiting until next week made more sense.

Taking him into her ass hadn't been her plan at all today, but done correctly and slowly, she knew she could expect to have equally intense orgasms like she'd had today.

And after the taste she got, she wanted many more.

-=-

Andre was gone, and Steph was in a state of shock.

At first, what she was filming was intensely hot! They both had beautiful bodies, and their movements were making her so fucking wet!

Then she saw Andre's expression. He wasn't happy. He didn't want to be there. That didn't make sense to her. How could he be having sex if he wasn't interested?

That's when she saw Jäger hurt him. She hadn't looked happy with him at that point. Was he under her control, somehow?

Maybe she was threatening his grade in her class. No. He'd said he was going to MIT, so he must have already been accepted.

Her camera was recording the teacher's slow, painful efforts to get dressed, so she stopped the video and carefully pulled the phone from the window to slip it into her pocket.

She still had to extricate herself from the damn bushes.

When she did, she was going directly to Brigette's house. She needed to talk to her bestie to get her advice.

This was bigger than she knew how to handle.

She felt sorry for Andre. Now she thought she might understand why he acted like he did.

-=-

Andre ran home once more and immediately stripped in the bathroom. He wanted to burn his clothes, but he couldn't afford new ones and wouldn't add the expense to Cassandra's bills. He'd settle with washing them.

After he washed himself.

He got the shower running, then rummaged under the sink to grab a new loofa sponge. He stopped as he remembered her telling him to never touch her stuff. The sensation of his skin crawling made him grab the sponge from the back of the cupboard and tear off the packaging. He'd buy a new one for Cassandra on the weekend.

Stepping into the spray, he soaked his body, then began scrubbing from his face downwards with the rough sponge. He was as careful as he could be when he got to his cock, but that was a little painful. Then he scrubbed himself with soap, rinsed, and began again. After a final rinse, he turned off the water and got out. The loofa went into the garbage can right away.

His skin felt like he'd been wrestling with a belt sander, especially his groin, but the creepy feeling was mostly gone. Looking in the mirror, he saw his skin was red and irritated, but that would go away, eventually.

He put on his shorts and t-shirt, stuffed his clothes into the laundry bag, and went down to the basement to the laundry room. The machines were quiet, so he dumped the clothes in two of them, one for whites and the other for colors, and got them going.

Music playing in his earbuds, he sat in a chair to wait and tried to ignore the screaming in his head. Everything would be okay. Cassandra would be home soon. They were ordering pizza tonight!

-=-

Brigette squirmed on her playroom sofa as she gaped at her big-screen TV showing the video her bestie had taken this afternoon. They'd copied it from her cell onto Brigette's laptop, which streamed the video to the TV.

She glanced over at Steph and saw the woman was staring at the screen, too.

Mary and Lindsay were watching with rapt attention as well. They'd shown up unexpectedly just before Steph called her to say she was almost there and had something she needed to see.

When Brigette asked them, Lindsay and Mary said they didn't know Steph was coming over.

They were stunned to see Mrs. Jäger having sex with Andre. The picture was very clear and extremely explicit.

Once the video finished, they looked at each other.

"What should I do?" Steph asked.

"Post it!" Mary immediately said.

Brigette gaped at her friend. "We'd be just as bad as Greg and our ex's. Andre didn't deserve that!"

"Oh, come on! He just had sex with the hottest female teacher at school!" Lindsay argued.

Steph gaped at them. "Didn't you see his expression? He wasn't enjoying himself! He looked upset!"

"With a cock like that, you were looking at his face?" Mary gasped with a grin.

"What is wrong with you?" Steph exclaimed angrily as she stood up.

Brigette suddenly noticed Steph's leg was red. "You're bleeding!" she cried. She leaped to her feet and guided her friend out of the room to the bathroom. Steph sat on the toilet fuming as Brigette got a facecloth, wet it, and washed the blood from her legs.

"How did you get so scratched up?" she asked.

Steph broke from her anger to glance down. "The windows are blocked by old hedges. It was a tight squeeze--I can't believe they didn't see how upset he was!" she exclaimed again.

Brigette nodded. She knew Steph needed to get this out of her system.

-=-

Back in the playroom, Lindsay was busy with Brigette's laptop.

"Which forum are you posting it to?" Mary asked with a grin.

"Under r/MassiveCock, of course!" Lindsay giggled.

"Ooo! Don't forget to cross-post it to r/HotWife, r/Cuckold, and r/NSFWHardcore!" Mary gasped excitedly.

Lindsay nodded and watched the file transfer.

"There's no way this is going to get back to Steph or Brigette, right?" Mary asked, suddenly nervous.

Lindsay shook her head. "I stripped the tags from the video, I'm posting it anonymously, and Brigette's laptop is using a VPN to hide her IP address."

Mary gave her friend an impressed look. "You know your shit!"

Lindsay nodded with a proud smile. "Who do you think installed the VPN on her machine? I swear, most people know nothing about taking these precautions."

"Greg and his boy toy did, but they still got caught," Mary reminded her.

"They started the attack in a closed school network. Idiots!" Lindsay said scornfully.

When the upload was done, they sat back and smiled at each other. They'd drop a few hints in a few inboxes tonight when they got home. They couldn't wait to see the explosions this would create.

This school year was going to end with a bang!

-=-

At eleven-thirty, just before he headed off to bed with his frigid wife Ilsa, Derek Savage received a call from Keith Danson, senior partner at the law firm he worked for. The man had never called him at home and certainly never this late.

"Hello?"

"Derek? This is Keith Danson."

"Yes, Mr. Danson. What can I do for you?"

The older man sighed. "A very serious breach of ethics has been reported to me by Bennington, of all people."

Derek couldn't stop the snort from escaping as everyone in the law firm was aware of the man's inability to resist a skirt. He was one of the original four at the firm, so that gave him some immunity.

"Yes, I agree," the man said, then cleared his throat. "Unfortunately, this breach affects you."

Derek froze. "What?"

"Bennington found a video posted on something called a subreddit forum, called HotWife. He sent me a link, and I admit I watched it. In the video... your wife is having sex with a student, presumably at her school."

"WHAT?" Derek yelled.

"I assume by your response that you were unaware of her activities?" Keith asked gently.

"No... I mean, yes. I had no idea, sir. I can't believe it," he whispered, stunned by the betrayal... but not.

"I'll send you the link, but Bennington insisted the video is... what did he say... trending? It can be easily found... by you and by our firm's clients. Your wife is very identifiable in the video. This brings me to the unfortunate task of letting you know the firm will be forced to terminate your employment."

"What?" he gasped.

"The scandal this will cause is going to shake the confidence of our client base. It might even jeopardize some cases we're currently working on. I'm sorry, Derek. You're a damn good lawyer, but Bennington got the other senior partners to agree to this before he contacted me. There's nothing I can do."

"I see. I'm sorry to place you in this circumstance, but truthfully, I didn't see it coming," he admitted.

"She's your blind spot," Keith said gently.

"What the heart wants is not necessarily the smartest choice," Derek agreed.

There was a moment of silence. "Damn, I'm going to miss you at the firm," the old man sighed.

Derek felt a lump in his throat. "I'm going to miss working with you as well, sir."

"When you come in tomorrow to collect your things, do your best to ignore anything that lech Bennington might say. He really is a piece of human trash, and you're a far better man than he'll ever be. I'd like to take you out to lunch if that would be okay," Danson suggested.

Derek smiled. "I'd like that."

"You're going to land on your feet, son. You're too good of a lawyer to do less."

"Thank you, sir. Please send me the link. I need to know what's she's done so I can take steps to get my life back."

"Will do. See you tomorrow," Keith replied.

Derek hung up and walked back to his desk. He dropped himself into his chair, dropped his cell onto the surface, then rubbed his face with his hands. After a few breaths, he reached over and powered up his laptop, and took it through the login process. Checking his mail, he saw some messages from Danson. One was the termination notice with the official document attached. The second was just a link. Bracing himself, he clicked on the link.

He wasn't as prepared as he thought when the video began playing. She was so lovely, even with those ridiculously large breasts. Seeing her cheating felt like a punch in the gut.

But it hurt less than it might have if he hadn't had so many nights of her bitter words and looks. Maybe he was more prepared than he thought.

Then he caught the expression on her partner's face. He wasn't smiling. Huh.

Derek saved a copy of the video locally, then read the document Danson sent him. It was damning and would seriously jeopardize his chances of landing another partnership in any of the larger corporate law firms. He saw Bennington's hand at work. The man had it in for him, but there was nothing he could do to prove that.

He leaned back in his chair and cast his eyes over the pictures on his office walls. Many had been taken at the firm's parties. Ilsa looked so good in many of them, but he could see Bennington in some, watching his wife with covetous eyes. Derek snorted. He could have her.

"So... what's next for Derek?" he thought.

His eyes landed on a picture of him on the beach with his college buddies. Freddie had the widest smile of the bunch as he'd gotten laid the night before. The man had phenomenal luck with the ladies. How he ended up a divorce lawyer was beyond Derek's understanding, but the man had made a very successful career out of it.

Derek froze as he remembered Fred offering him a job if he ever tired of working at a stuffy old firm.

He picked up his cell and sent a text to him. "You up?"

Seconds later, the response came back. "Yes. Are you okay, man?"

Once more, Derek fought back a lump in his throat. Freddie knew. "Not so good. You saw?"

Freddie was a little larger than life, so his answer to that was immediate and bold.

"Buddy, she doesn't deserve you! Give me the word, and I will crush her in the courtroom!"

Derek smiled. He knew he could rely on his friend.

"I was terminated from my position at the firm. Distancing themselves from the scandal."

"COME WORK WITH ME! PLEASE!"

Derek laughed as he saw the emojis of dancing and praying people. He realized he wanted this. Working with Freddie would lift his spirits like nothing else, and he really needed it.

"I'm going to take you up on both offers. I want to hire you to represent me in the divorce, and I'd like to join your firm. If you're willing to take on a lawyer tainted by this scandal."

"YA, BABY! THIS IS GONNA BE AWESOME!" flashed back on his cell. "You need to get out of that house right now. Come over to my place and we'll get started!"

Derek chuckled to himself, feeling better already. He nodded. "See you shortly," he texted back.

He had a plan and a promise to uphold to Mr. Danson.

He was going to land on his feet.

If Ilsa got kicked to the curb and driven over by a garbage truck in the process, too bad for her.

Chapter 12

Cassandra smiled as she enjoyed the feeling of warmth from the delicious breakfast Andre made her this morning. She couldn't get over how doting he'd been last night when she got home and this morning. Dinner had been one of her favorites. Delicious spaghetti with a rich meat sauce. He got her a little single serving of ice cream for dessert, and while he cleaned up, he got her situated on the couch to watch a movie. He joined her and gave her a foot massage afterward. Her breakfast this morning was ready after she got dressed.

She thought he was a little over-eager, which rang some alarm bells for her, but he assured her he just wanted to make sure she was happy.

She collected her carryall and slipped on her shoes as she unlocked the front door. She turned back to smile at him as she pulled the door open. He returned her smile, then it dropped away suddenly as he looked past her. She turned to look and saw Principal Wallace standing in the hallway with two other men she didn't recognize.

Wallace looked uncomfortable, and the others looked grim.

"What? What are you doing here?" she asked. Then her nerves flared. "What happened?" She spun to look back at Andre and saw dread in his eyes.

"May we come in?" Wallace asked politely.

Cassandra turned to stare at the three men in the hallway. She finally nodded and gestured for them to enter.

Principal Wallace slipped his shoes off and walked into the living room. The tall, dark-haired man in a sharply cut suit behind him frowned but took his shoes off too and went into the room as the third man, wearing a dull grey suit, nodded to her as he slipped his shoes off.

"Andre, bring the kitchen chairs into the living room," Cassandra said, and he moved. She quickly went to her bedroom and brought her desk chair out for the third man to sit in. Wallace and the dark-haired man were already sitting, and the principal gestured to the sofa for her and Andre.

"First, I'd like to apologize for the intrusion so early on a Friday morning," Harry began, and Cassandra nodded. "With me today is District Commissioner Scott Tennison and School Board Legal Counsel Burt Goldman."

"What's this about?" she asked.

"How long has Andre been having an affair with his math teacher, Mrs. Ilsa Jäger?" Tennison asked before Wallace could speak. The principal didn't look happy.

Cassandra's eyes widened, and she looked at Andre, who was looking back at her in fear. She touched his arm and his eyes locked on her hand. "I'm not mad, Andre. Has she been touching you?"

He nodded.

"He's been doing more than touching--" the commissioner began.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP! I don't know you. Principal Wallace, I trust. You don't know Andre, and I'm speaking with him now," Cassandra snapped as she locked eyes with the man, who froze with his mouth open.

She turned back to Andre, who was still looking at her hand on his arm.

"When did she first touch you?" she asked as her body trembled.

He glanced up at her and saw her compassion. "The day before yesterday. The day I collapsed in the tub."

She looked at Wallace and saw his concerned look, so she explained. "Andre overdid his workout at school, and his muscles gave out while he showered at home. He told me a teacher touched--" Her eyes suddenly widened as the dots connected. She looked back at Andre. "Were you punishing yourself on the machine after the math teacher touched you?"

He nodded with a look of shame. "She... she had sex with me."

Cassandra surged to her feet as her rage exploded. Baring her teeth in a silent snarl, she glared at the principal, but he looked shocked as well. Then she felt Andre clinging to her hand. He was pressing it to his cheek as he whispered something over and over. Her anger slipped away as she made out his words.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

She sat once more and took his face between her hands to make him look into her eyes. "Andre, I'm not mad at you. You did nothing wrong."

When the commissioner made a sound of protest, Cassandra pointed at him with rage behind her stare, and he shut up.

She looked back at Andre, and he was back to staring at her hand, which was holding his.

"Andre can't stand people touching him. Principal Wallace knows of this," she said for their benefit. "How did it happen?" she asked Andre gently.

Andre glanced over at the men and saw a range of expressions. He was nervous talking about it in front of them, but Cassandra asked. "S-she treated me like Gloria," he whispered to her.

Cassandra's face paled as she stared at her brother in horror. His abuse continued. Her mouth opened, but she couldn't speak.

"What did he say?" Scott asked.

Cassandra glared at him with a wild rage desperate to escape, to hunt down and kill the one who hurt her brother. Then she saw Wallace's expression and struggled to rein in her emotions.

When she had control back, she spoke. "Andre was physically and sexually abused when he was younger by his stepmother. She had total control over him, and he couldn't fight back. This math teacher, she must have found out about this or learned on her own how to do it."

"Are we supposed to sit here and believe this story about Andre being forced to have sex with a very attractive teacher?" Tennison scoffed.

"Every time you open your mouth, you display your gross ignorance. How the hell did you rise to the position of district commissioner being this dense?" She held up a hand to stop his retort. "Never mind, I don't want to know. Get out of my apartment. You have nothing of value to add to this conversation!" Cassandra insisted, pointing to the door.

The man looked indignant, then stood to walk to the door. He looked back in surprise when the others remained. He grabbed his shoes and stepped outside.

"Lock the door, Andre," she said, and he immediately rushed over to the door and locked it. He returned to sit next to her, and she took his hand again.

The lawyer spoke. "You mentioned earlier that Andre didn't like to be touched, but he shows no discomfort when you hold his hand."

"Only her."

They looked at Andre, who glanced at her, then dropped his eyes to her hand in his.

The principal cleared his throat. "One of the reasons we're here today is to let you know that there has been another violation of Andre's privacy. Someone shot a video of Mrs. Jäger and Andre having sex in her classroom, and they posted it online. It's very explicit and surprisingly clear, considering where they must have filmed it from. Both Ilsa and Andre are clearly visible. Contrary to the commissioner's claim, Andre does not appear to be enjoying himself and quickly flees once the act is complete. We do believe he was being forced into this relationship with the teacher."

Cassandra's mouth was hanging open in dismay as she stared at Wallace.

"We've come to let Andre know he doesn't need to attend the last week of classes this year. His record will show he completed the year and achieved excellent grades." His expression became a little awkward. "I've only just been made aware of this today when one of the office administrators brought it to my attention. They received amended grades for your art class, and Ms. Rubio included a note to show her reasoning for increasing your grade average. She wrote she approached you earlier this year to do a quick assessment of your interpretive capabilities?"

Cassandra looked at Andre, and he nodded as he remembered the morning.

"Ms. Rubio said she recognized some behaviors which matched her nephew's, who is autistic. She suggested Andre might be on the spectrum, just not officially assessed and diagnosed by a physician."

Cassandra scowled at the teacher, and he raised his hands. "It's not a bad thing. It just might help explain some behaviors, and you might be able to get some assistance for Andre."

"I don't need assistance. Andre is perfect the way he is. It's true, he doesn't socialize with the other students, and he gets targeted by bullies, but you dealt with that to our satisfaction. He's fully capable of functioning in society. He had a job until the damn photo was leaked, and his boss took offense." She took a breath to calm herself. "My next question is, what are you going to do about this bitch who abused him? Are we pressing charges?" she asked.

The lawyer spoke again. "While what Mrs. Jäger did isn't illegal due to Andre being over eighteen years old, it was unethical and violated the school's code of conduct. This is grounds for dismissal. We'll also be working to have her teacher's license and certification revoked. Even the District Commissioner wants to see that happen."

Cassandra looked at the two men. "Just how widespread was the distribution of the video?"

Wallace looked uncomfortable. "I'm not an expert, but I believe it's on the Internet, so it's available worldwide."

She gave Andre a sad look, and he looked at her nervously. "How are we going to give you a normal life with all this notoriety?" she said quietly.

"I don't need normal. I'm content with this," he said, and she sucked in a quiet breath as his dark eyes held hers. She nodded, then looked at the two men.

"We're moving to be closer to Andre's college. Hopefully, we can shed these terrible events and start anew there. Until then, I have to get to work. Thank you for taking the time to visit us today. We appreciate it."

Wallace took that as it was time to leave and walked to the door with the lawyer. "Once more, we're terribly sorry these activities happened to you on our watch," Harry said to Cassandra and Andre, who nodded to him. They slipped their shoes on and left.

Cassandra turned to face her brother and took his face in her hands as she looked into his dark, soulful eyes. "I'm sorry she hurt you. Principal Wallace will see she's punished. We're going to get away from here and make a new life for ourselves when we go to Cambridge. You'll see. In the meantime, you're done with high school. Congratulations!"

She moved forward to kiss his cheek, catching him by surprise. He turned to look at her, and their lips met. Her eyes widened, then she pulled back. "Naughty boy! Getting me all tingly before I go to work!" She bit her lip as she slipped her sneakers on, then smiled at him as she left.

Andre stared at the door, stunned by what had just happened. She kissed him and... she liked it?

He looked toward the living room and realized he didn't have any plans for the rest of the day.

He adjusted his shorts as they were running out of room as he recalled his sister's soft lips on his.

There was at least one thing he needed to take care of right now.

-=-

The school was in a state of frenzy. No one could concentrate because of the scandal. Everyone was talking about the video of that skank Jäger fucking Marin. The teacher had been called into the office first thing, and she hadn't come out.

Speculation was running wild.

Finally, school security walked her back to the classroom with a box. A short time later, they escorted her to the front door. She'd been dismissed.

Steph and Brigette were standing side by side, leaning against the school's brick wall in the parking lot. They'd arrived just in time to see the back of someone running away, having just spray-painted SLUT and WHORE on the sides of Jäger's Mercedes. Now the ladies waited.

The ex-teacher hobbled around the corner, walking like she was in pain and clearly shaken by how quickly her life was turning to shit. She was almost to her car when she saw the new paint job and let out a little scream. She lost her grip on the heavy box, and it slipped from her arms, dropping to the pavement. Something inside shattered when it hit.

"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" she screamed in anger and frustration.

"Lost your teaching gig?" Brigette asked.

Ilsa spun to glare at the voice. "Did you do this?" she screamed, pointing at her car.

Brigette gestured above her at the security camera aimed at the lot. "Are you kidding? I'm not stupid enough to do something like that on camera."

Nodding toward the car, Steph smiled. "Something to be said about truth in advertising, though!" she called out.

Ilsa pulled her shoulder back defiantly. "You know nothing!"

"I know Andre didn't want your moldy cooch on his dick," Steph called back, then pointed to Ilsa's chest. "Listen, if you can't find anyone willing to risk leaving their kids alone with you, you still have those tits. You could probably earn some money stripping, hooking, or doing porn. I mean, who doesn't love a nasty bitch who takes it up the ass?"

Message delivered, Brigette and Steph walked away, flipping the bird to the ex-teacher.

-=-

When she pulled into her driveway, Ilsa frowned, seeing the Escalade parked in front of her door. Then she saw the vanity plate. FCASTLE. Shit, it was Freddie.

She snarled as she saw the man himself stepping out and grinning happily in her direction. Tall, broad-shouldered, barrel-chested, and that idiotic perpetual grin on his face. His wavy red hair was nice, though. She winced when she remembered she'd actually contemplated fucking him.

She parked her car and climbed out.

"Love the new paint job. It really brings out the bitch in your eyes," he chuckled at the vandalism.

"Not the day to be pissing me off, Freddie," she warned.

"How about pissing on?" he said with a grin as he handed her a thick envelope.

She frowned at it. "What's this?"

"Are you really that stupid? What's my job? Say it with me, divorce attorney. That's your copy of the paperwork to spring my client from your evil clutches. You've been served." He grinned at the stunned look on Ilsa's face.

"You've been colossally stupid, fräulein. You hurt a good man. A good man who happens to be my friend, so I'm going to do what I do best. If you have anything left when I'm done, well, that's moot because you won't have anything left."

His eyes blatantly dropped to stare at her chest. "Okay, you'll have those. I'm sure you can shake them under Bennington's drippy nose and get him to cough up a few shekels, but you'll have to let him fuck your ass too."

Ilsa shook the envelope at Freddie. "Derek would never--"

"You confused nice with weak. And you used up all of Derek's nice," Freddie said as he walked backward to his truck's door. "See you in court, slut. Or is it whore? You really should have stuck with one or the other." He said, gesturing to her car's new decoration.

Ilsa watched him drive away, his middle finger pointing to the sky from his window.

That gesture was becoming too familiar today.

Chapter 13

Andre carried the groceries up the flight of stairs. Their new apartment had air conditioning, but the stairway up to their second-floor doorway didn't. It was a hot one outside, and he was looking forward to getting inside. They had the top floor of a lovely two-story home not too far from the MIT campus. It took them two weeks to move in and furnish it as best they could with their limited funds.

Cassandra found the apartment for them after an extensive hunt and many phone calls. The woman who owned the building, Marielle Beaumont, was a senior and lived on the lower floor. She seemed to like him as he told her he'd be willing to care for the building's maintenance needs, including raking leaves and shoveling snow. He was handy, she said.

He let himself into the apartment and put away the groceries. Marielle had invited them to dinner tonight to celebrate their settling in, so Andre took a quick shower and put on a nice collared shirt and his tan slacks. His new look was a disguise to prevent people from connecting him to the long-haired goth man from the sexy video.

Speaking of his hair, he had much less of it and could no longer hide his face behind it. He had what Cassandra called a sensible cut. It was very short on the sides, with a few waves allowed on top. She couldn't keep her fingers out of it, and he found he didn't mind that at all.

He heard a key in the door and smiled as she stepped inside with a sigh of relief. She was wearing one of her new work outfits, and he thought she looked elegant and beautiful. She'd shortened her hair a little as well, but hers reached her shoulders now and still made his fingers itch to touch. He hadn't given into that need because he was still worried that she might not approve.

Her new investment manager position was challenging her mind, and she really enjoyed her first week. She told him her coworkers were friendly, and there was plenty of potential for upward mobility in the company. She teased him by saying they were all curious about the man she was shacking up with.

She quickly got ready, and they went downstairs for dinner. Marielle invited them in with a delighted smile, and Andre held still for her cheek kisses. She was very friendly, so Cassandra worked with him to not react badly when the older woman touched him. It was still a work in progress.

"Sandra, how is your new job coming along?" Marielle asked.

This was something else Casandra insisted he do to protect their new life in Boston. Before they moved, she arranged to have their names changed slightly to escape from the notoriety and break from their past. To everyone else, she was Sandra, and he was Andrew. She'd contacted his college and made the revisions so their records would now indicate his new name.

He could think of her as Cassandra and himself as Andre, but he was never to use those names in the presence of others. He found he could do that.

Cassandra filled in their landlord on the business and how much she was enjoying her new job.

The woman looked at Andre next. "I saw you go out earlier, Andrew, and return with bags."

He nodded with a smile. "Groceries."

"Are you excited about starting your new classes?" she asked. She was aware he'd be going to MIT and was very impressed.

"Yes, I'm looking forward to it very much," he responded, as Cassandra said he should.

Marielle smiled at him, then looked at his sister. "Your man is so well mannered."

Cassandra smiled widely as she nodded, and they shared a giggle as Andre glanced at his sister. Her man? She nodded to him slightly, so he didn't ask her about it here.

Marielle moved to the kitchen and soon returned with a taurine filled with delicious-smelling coq au vin.

She served them, and they began eating.

"This is delicious!" Andre told her with a smile.

"I can teach you how to make it if you'd like," she offered with a little smile.

"Yes, please!" he said enthusiastically.

Cassandra grinned as she was enjoying her meal, too.

The ladies dominated the conversation, as Andre wasn't much of a conversationalist.

Soon it was time to say good night, and Andre got his cheeks kissed again. He wondered at the double kiss and where it came from.

"You two are such a lovely couple. It makes me happy as it reminds me of my Leo," Marielle sighed with a smile.

Cassandra wrapped an arm around Andre's back and hugged him to her side as she nodded her thanks to the woman. Andre threw a nod in as well, which made the older woman grin at him.

Then they were climbing the stairs to their apartment. Once they were in behind the locked door, Cassandra faced him and put her hands on his shoulders.

"You're probably wondering why she thinks we're a couple. While I was looking for the apartment, I had more success saying we were a couple. For some reason, landlords were less comfortable renting to siblings. Maybe they thought one would move out and the other would have trouble paying rent? I don't know.

"This is why you told me not to talk to her about us?" he asked.

Cassandra nodded. "Until we are settled, and she's comfortable that we're good people." She got a wicked little smile on her lips. "I have to admit I might have shared the story at work, too. Telling them I was in a relationship helped keep the Romeos from trying to date the new girl. Then I began to enjoy the make-believe. Pretending you were my man."

Andre was trembling. This was what he wanted, too. His mouth moved before his brain could stop him. "Would that be bad?"

Cassandra locked eyes with him, and her eyes were so lovely Andre ached for her. "You mean for real?"

He licked his lips and nodded, terrified he'd offended her, but she didn't appear angry.

"W-wouldn't that... wouldn't that make me no better than Gloria?" she asked in a quiet, tight voice.

Andre's eyes widened in shock. "No! You're nothing like her! I love you!"

His guilty secret was out, his declaration exposed for her to accept or reject. Andre had never felt so vulnerable in his life.

Cassandra's heavenly lips were suddenly pressing against his, and a tremor of relief rocked through his body as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her softness against his hard muscles.

She moaned and pulled him tighter against her, their kiss deepening.

Andre couldn't get enough of her and slid his hands down to her amazing bubble butt, squeezing those exquisite orbs in his powerful hands.

Cassandra gasped as she pulled back slightly from their kiss. Her eyes flared with need, and she kissed him again, thrusting her tongue into his mouth. He sucked on it and caressed it with his, making her moan sexily.

Andre was going to explode if he didn't make love to her right now. He pulled back from the kiss suddenly, and she gave him a surprised and worried look that flashed into shock and delight when he bent and scooped her up in his arms, carrying her to her bedroom. It was the only room with a bed, as he was still sleeping on the sofa bed.

He set her back on her feet next to the bed, and she quickly pulled his shirt up and over his head. Grinning, Cassandra matched him and took off her blouse. Next went her camisole as Andre undid his pants.

He was suddenly staring at his sister's magnificent breasts, supported by a sheer and sexy bra. His brain was momentarily frozen until she squeezed her tits together with her hands, making the flesh rise toward his face.

In a trance, he lowered his face until it was buried in her cleavage. He felt his cock throb powerfully, reminding him of what he needed to be doing instead of suffocating himself in her breasts. There would be time for that later, he hoped.

He took a moment to kiss the soft skin and heard Cassandra gasp as her fingers slid into his hair to hold him against her. He pushed his pants and underwear down and stepped out of them as he continued to rain kisses across the top of her breasts.

When he lifted his head, Cassandra immediately pressed her mouth against his to take a feverish kiss. He couldn't get enough and slipped his tongue into her mouth this time. She sucked on it as her hands traveled over his naked back. When they reached his ass, she gasped into the kiss and pulled back to look down at his complete nakedness. She sucked in another gasp as she saw his thick cock rising between his legs.

She scrambled to undo her skirt and let it drop. Her panties were next, then she reached back and released her bra, pulling it forward to free her heavy breasts. Andre immediately cupped them with his hands and sucked one of her nipples into his mouth.

"Oh! Fuck, Andre! Yes!" she exclaimed as his tongue teased and flicked her nipple. He sucked and tugged gently on it while she squirmed and trembled. He treated the other one to a similar thrashing, and she couldn't take any more. She dragged him onto the bed as she stretched out, guiding him over her body.

"If you don't make love to me right now, I'm going to lose my nerve. Please, Andre! I need you inside me!" she pleaded softly, her eyes desperate.

He rested his body over hers, and her eyes rolled back, the lashes fluttering. His cock was pinned between them, grinding over her clit, and she was shaking under him. He pulled back and felt the head stroking across the wet lips of her pussy. With every stroke, Cassandra jolted and shook.

"Oh fuck, Andre. This... this is so wrong--but don't stop! Don't ever stop!" she murmured.

Those quiet confessions became a cry of bliss as he pressed the thick head into her opening.

"OH GOD, ANDRE! YES! MORE!"

He made short strokes, dipping deeper with each thrust. She was so wet, and he felt harder than he'd ever been. His greatest wish was coming true. Cassandra wanted him completely. She accepted his love and his body. His heart felt like it was filled with light.

This... this was what love felt like!

-=-

When his body came to a rest against her, Cassandra's mind dissolved into sparks. What she'd craved for so long was now a reality. She'd already had a small orgasm as he ground his cock over her clit, and now the beast was inside her, stretching her to her limits deliciously.

What made her joy complete was the idea that this wonderful man sharing this intimacy loved her with every ounce of his strength and he was so strong! Andre was special in so many ways and had an infinite capacity for loving her. She'd never felt more treasured in her life. She mattered, she was needed, and best of all, she was loved!

The one thing that was missing from their lovemaking was the fear she'd held in her heart with every partner she'd ever had. Fear of betrayal and a lack of trust. With Andre, she knew he loved her, and she trusted him with her heart. She could be completely open with him.

She couldn't deny that the forbidden and taboo nature of their relationship made the sex deliciously wrong yet undeniably the best she'd ever had. She wasn't sure if that made her a bad person, but she didn't care at this moment. She was having the most incredibly sexy experience with someone who loved her as much as she loved him. She could feel it in his worshipful touches and see it in his dark eyes. He loved her beyond all reason and accepted her, flaws and all.

When he pulled his cock out to the head, she clung to him as it felt like she might turn inside out. Then he was thrusting back in, and the sensation of being filled beyond capacity almost overwhelmed her. He did it again, then faster, and each stroke was capped with a gentle slap against her clit. All she could do was hang on with all her strength as her brother fucked her into oblivion like some runaway train.

She welcomed her fate as her senses whited out with bliss.

If what they were doing was a sin, why did it feel like she was ascending to Heaven?

-=-

Andre gazed down at his sister's rapturous expression as he drove his cock into her again and again, his need for her out of control and accelerating. He could tell she was coming as her body was squeezing his cock, and tremors were going through her body under him. It was too much, and his own release struck. He ground his body against hers as his cum fired deep inside her again and again. He dipped down to kiss her face gently as waves of pleasure swept through him.

When his body was done, and she'd relaxed under him, he gently pulled free and carefully rested himself on the bed next to her. He watched her face as her breathing slowed and her eyes finally opened again. Those lovely pale blue eyes turned to look at him as a smile slipped onto her soft lips.

"I love you, Andre," she said, and tears of joy ran down his cheeks. He leaned over her and gently kissed her lips, feeling her kiss him back. She'd accepted him with all his flaws.

They pulled back to gaze into each other's eyes.

"That was... the best! It felt... right," she said with a smile, then her expression turned serious. "We have a chance at a new life here. No one is allowed to know anything about our past. I'll work out a cover story for us in case someone asks. But none of that matters anymore. Now, we are Sandra and Andrew Marin. A young and married couple beginning their lives in Boston."

His eyebrows went up. "Married?"

She smiled. "Well, not legally, but it explains our last names. We don't look alike, so people will accept it as Marielle did."

He lifted his bare left hand, and she smiled wickedly. "We'll need to buy replacement wedding bands for the ones that were lost in the fire."

"The fire?" he asked.

She nodded. "Just part of the cover story. Faulty wiring in a house we were living in caused a fire which burned everything we had, marriage certificate included." She held his eyes. "I'll work out the details, but I'll keep the story simple."

She sighed. "The government will know we're brother and sister, as we can't change our birth certificates, but they must be the only ones who should know. Can you pretend to be my loving husband?"

He smiled. "I can and will, wife."

A thrill shot through her, and she let her eyes travel down his body. They stopped when they saw his resting cock with a droplet of cum at its tip. She collected this with a fingertip, making him jolt and stare at her as she lifted it to her mouth. Her tongue flicked out to lick the cum from her finger. "Mmm! You're delicious."

He suddenly looked concerned. "I came inside you."

She shook her head. "I'm on the pill, so we won't be having any babies. I hope you don't mind, but I don't want to have children."

"That's okay with me," he said with a sigh. He didn't feel capable of being a parent.

Grinning, Cassandra sat up, then slid down the bed as she pushed Andre onto his back. "I want to get more familiar with this. Much more familiar."

She had to admit to herself, knowing the cock before her was her brother's definitely added spice to the sexiness of the situation. She wasn't sure what that said about her, but questioning it or psychoanalyzing herself just made her unhappy, and she'd had enough of that in her life. Didn't they deserve to be happy?

She gripped the base and ran her tongue around the head. She felt a strong surge at the bottom, and it swelled once more. Before it did, she kissed the head and took it into her mouth all the way to the back, then down into her throat.

Andre moaned with bliss as he stared at her with glassy eyes.

She slowly pumped his cock in and out of her throat, feeling it get harder and thicker. She didn't stop, and he was stunned to see her take all of him into her mouth and throat after he reached maximum stiffness. Her eyelashes were fluttering again, so he lifted her face from his cock, and she gasped in a deep breath.

Cassandra pushed on his hip until he caught on and slid to the center of the mattress. She swung her leg over him and lifted his cock to meet her descending pussy. He slid in easier this time until she sat on him, his cock buried deep in her pussy. He reached up and squeezed her tits, rolling her nipples between his fingers and thumbs. Gasping, she leaned forward and pressed her chest against his.

He moved his hands to her ass and squeezed her cheeks.

"FFFFUUUUCCCKKK!!!" she cried, so he did it again as he moved his hips to begin thrusting.

"Yes! Andre! Fuck me!" she gasped.

Gripping her ass cheeks, he began to bounce her on his body, thrusting up into her on each bounce. He was slapping her clit against him like a machine, faster and faster.

Knowing how Mrs. Jäger seemed to like it, he slipped the tip of one finger into her twitching asshole.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!" Cassandra cried as her body crashed through another colossal release. Andre held on for dear life as his sister thrashed like a wild thing, riding his cock through a frenzied orgasm. He pulled his finger free from her ass, and she collapsed on his chest. He was still quite hard, but she was spent.

"I'm sorry... I couldn't... last for you," she panted.

He shifted them to the side of the bed, then gently eased her onto her back on the center of the bed, pulling his erection from her as he did. She gasped as he slipped free.

Then he went up on his knees and swung a leg over her as she watched him curiously. When he pressed his rigid cock into her cleavage, her smile widened. "Mmm! Yes! Slide that big boy between my tits," she purred. She squeezed her heavy but soft breasts around his meat, and he sighed with pleasure. Her smile grew sultry. "Fuck my tits, Andre. Slide your hot cock between them!"

His hips were moving automatically, following her hot instructions willingly. She felt so good, and he was getting closer. His eyes were locked on hers, and he could see her love in them. He thrust faster as her slick skin stroked his cock.

"I'm going to come!" he groaned as his eyes closed in bliss.

"Yes, Andre. Come on my big tits," she purred, and he couldn't hold back any longer. Thick ropes of cum splashed against her neck and chest. He leaned back, and the last shots landed on her chin and across her cheek.

When he opened his eyes, he stared in dismay at the mess he'd made.

She saw his concern and patted his firm tummy, sending more tingles through her. "It's okay, Andre. It was very sexy." She scooped the cum from her cheek and sucked the finger into her mouth. He moaned seeing this, and she smiled at him.

"I think we should have a quick shower to clean up, then it's bedtime. Since we're pretending to be a married couple, we should share my bed from now on. Would that be okay with you?" she asked with a smile.

He nodded with wide eyes, then helped her from the bed, and she guided him into their bathroom and the shower stall. There was no tub, but the double-wide shower enclosure made up for that. They got the water going the scrubbed each other clean, washing their hair as well.

After a thorough rinse, Andre dropped to his knees and worshipped Cassandra's pussy with his tongue and lips as he braced her against him, holding her ass in his hands. After she came, they dried off and went back to the bedroom to slip under the covers.

Cassandra set her alarm for the morning and turned off the light. She looked over at him in the dim light filtering in through the blinds from the streetlight and saw he was watching her.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing. I dreamed of this. I've loved you all my life," Andre said, his voice tight with emotion.

Cassandra's mouth opened. "I love you too, Andre! When you returned to my life after I fled from... him and Gloria, I realized just how much I did, but I was afraid to show you because I thought I'd be abusing you like she did."

"I never wanted her touch. Only yours," he insisted.

She moved closer and tenderly kissed his lips, feeling him return the tenderness. He loved her, and that filled her being with warmth.

She turned over and pulled his arm over her until he was spooning her. She felt a weight resting between her ass cheeks. "No more sex tonight. We need to get some sleep," she said fondly.

Andre smiled. This was everything he needed. He was going to enjoy their new life as man and wife.

And he would honor and cherish her for the rest of their lives.