Shadow Seed 1: The Misbegotten (39 page)

(Summer – 2018)

Epidemic?

Once more
, I was before the stove, cooking.  Although this morning, I had help - unexpected help, but help I appreciated, all the same.  But let’s be honest, the sort of help that walks upon two legs, keeps one company and looks as radiant as the morning sun itself, would be welcomed in anyone’s book, right?  The fact she had a smokin’ hot body, would only added to the overall satisfaction of the arrangement.

It was nearly an hour after Katie had puked in the bathtub.  We
’d come down in search of something to prepare for our pending company.  Katie had still been a bit unsteady, her equilibrium slightly off.  I knew it was only a brief consequence of the violence of her momentary sickness.  Yet, I had perched her atop one of the stools before the breakfast bar opposite the stove just in case her condition worsened.  I had no intention of watching her fall flat on her face.  I gave her a couple of Tylenol and told her to keep her ass on the stool until she had recovered completely.

We had talked and joked, mostly about how we were going to approach the topic of our sexual encounter with Ramona.  The conversation had been lighthearted and good natured, probably because we both were beginning to understand that things between the three of us were
probably going to work out.  We weren’t anxious or felt any sense of dread hanging over our heads.  We were just ourselves and the time passed quickly.

When the door bell had rung some odd minutes later, Katie went to answer it.  Though I was half-buried in the various elements and ingredients of the brunch I was preparing, I stopped her.  I had told her something sarcastic that I can no longer recall.  Although
, I do remember she had cussed at me again, but stayed put.  She cupped her head in the palm of one of her hands, her elbow resting atop the counter, while I sauntered toward the front door.  I wondered if she was still somewhat dizzy.

I had expected to see Ramona, resplendent with the smile I had come to adore, the one that lit up her eyes and made her cheeks look like those of a cherubic angel.  What I hadn’t expected were the opposing visages of Sandy Fernandez and Leda Quintanilla, standing behind her.  Like always, they were the very definition of contrast.  Sandy was bubbling over with excitement, her face aglow.  Leda was dark and foreboding as thunderheads upon the horizon.  To her credit, though, she did appear to be trying to keep her as face impassive as possible.

“Babes!” Ramona had exclaimed and jumped into my arms, pointing her toes as I lifted her off the ground.  I gave her a half spin as our lips came together.  She gave me a quick, but intense kiss on the lips.

Even through her clothes I could feel the heat of her.  A very male instinct washed over me.  I
could tell this girl was ripe for mating.  I needed no extraordinary senses to detect it, but I wasn’t about to take any chances either.  So, I purposefully made certain I didn’t make any attempt to smell her.  It probably wouldn’t look good if she stripped me naked and fucked me right there on the doorstep.  I mean, the neighbors might’ve taken offense, not to mention, the reactions of the girls behind her.  If Katie’s portrayal of my “powers” were accurate enough, then all four of us might very well have gone to the floor in spasms of orgasmic pleasure.

Thankfully
, that wasn’t the case that day.  I refrained.  Instead, I put Ramona back on her feet.  Not after I had grabbed a nice, meaty chunk of her ass mind you.  I gave it a firm squeeze to let her know, I knew she was horny and I was interested.  Her grin was one of eager anticipation and delight, the edge of her eyes glimmering in the late morning sun.  If I had asked right then to come with me to my room, told her I wanted to fuck her, she would have come no questions asked.  She wouldn’t have cared that her friends were there, even if they knew she was going off to get boned.  None of it would have fazed her, not in the least.  I don’t know how she might’ve been with her past boyfriends.  With me, Ramona seemed willing; she’d do it anywhere, anytime…  
My kind of girl indeed!

I just stood there, admiring her in her tight blue jeans, her loose fitting, whit
e cotton blouse and navy, three-inch heels.  She was so beautiful, I momentarily forgot the other girls were there and let my eyes wonder over the curve of her hips and bulbous swell of her breasts, filling her top regardless of it being baggy.  As usual, her make-up was exquisite.  Her hair was styled and brushed so that it flared from her face, framing it perfectly, making her hazel eyes stand out all the more.  They seemed larger now, and more striking.  Her expression melted somewhere between self-consciousness and sultry, and I could see she was wondering if I liked the way she looked.  She wasn’t quite certain how to react.

That was when Leda cleared her throat, somewhat loudly, and broke the mental connection between me and my girlfriend.  My thoughts exploded into a thousand annoyed shards, seemed to fall away at the speed of light – gone in an instant, even difficult to recall.

“Oh!” Ramona had squealed, glancing back at her friends, waving her hand in their general direction.  “I wanted to get here as fast as I could and I really didn’t feel like walking, so I called Sandy to see if she could take me.  She said sure, but that Leda was over and wanted to come along for the ride… so, there you have it – all three of us, here.”  She giggled at being caught off guard.  It had made her nervous or self-conscious in some strange way.

I glanced over at Sandy, who was waving one of her small, jerky
waves.  She was wearing a soft-pink, tube top under a white cotton blouse.  She wore it unbuttoned with a high-seamed, white mini skirt.  I could see thigh six inches
above
her knee.  She had on a pair of ankle-high, athletic socks and a darker pair of pink sneakers, the sort used for walking long distances.  Still though, they were stylish. 
She had looked rather fetching, I must add.

My vision meandered over to Leda.  She had on denim shorts as well, though not as short as Katie’s booty version, belted with a very modern looking strap of leather, black of course.  She balanced that with a matching black
, short-sleeved t-shirt, devoid of any picture or slogan of any sort.  Upon her feet, she had on blue and white sneakers and was either wearing foot liners or had gone without socks, because her ankles were bear.  As I perused her outfit, she had shifted her weight onto one foot.  Her other foot tapped slowly against the concrete as she twirled her sunglasses in her right hand.  She looked at me straight in the eye, daring me to say something negative.

I frowned slightly. 
What the fuck is up with her?

“Hope we’re not intruding,” speculated Sandy with a broad smile.  Unwittingly, she bounced lightly on her toes, which made her mini skirt flare, showing a bit more of her thighs before it came back down.

I smiled back, always a sucker for a pair of firm teenage thighs.  “No, not at all, my cousin and I were just putz’ing around the kitchen, getting a handle on what we want to make for brunch.  Are you guys – uh…
gals
– hungry?”  I amended quickly at Leda’s raised eyebrow.

“I am,” admitted Sandy in a rush her eyes all for me, which made Leda roll her own.  She
hadn’t changed.  She was exactly the same as she’d been on the first day I had met her.

Ramona merely batted her eyes at me, saying, “I’d never turn down anything you were cooking up, Effy…”

I chuckled at the sexual innuendo and motioned for them to come inside.

Now, here I was
, before the stove, spatula in hand with Sandy at my side – spatula in hers - helping me cook the eggs, bacon and ham, potatoes O’Brien and pancakes.  We were toasting bread also, talking the whole time.  Leda sat at the breakfast bar across from us, listening to our conversation, every now and again adding to it, her mood lightening as time passed.  Ramona and Katie had moved to the dining room just passed the bar and Leda.

I glanced over at them from time to time.  I could tell they were in a deep discussion, and I could pretty much divine what was their topic of choice – me.  I was never a true master of extrapolation, but it was still easy to see they were engrossed over what was certain to be a very
detailed retelling of the first-time fuck between Katie and me.

I felt my mouth twist to one side, wondering what they were saying.  Were they comparing or making notes?  Were they jealous or angry, or were they curious or interested?  What did they think of me?  Was I
good
in their eyes?  I mean, I always figured I was a fairly decent screw, because I went out of my way to make sure my partner got off just as much as I did.  I sort of prided myself on that, but still… us guys we never know, you know… especially with all of those chicks who claim they fake it most of the time.  I was really hoping that neither of them had faked it.  I wanted to be good enough to make their toes curl for real.  What man wouldn’t want this for his girl, right?  I mean, I was a little concerned. And why were their heads so close together?  Why were they speaking in such low tones, their lips moving a mile a minute?  Why?

“…like to cook, Estefan?” asked Sandy, breaking my concentration.

“What?” I asked, missing what she had said.

She smiled and shook her head ever so slightly, a small movement in fact, nearly imperceptible.  “I asked you if you liked to cook.”

“Ah, sorry, my mind was elsewhere,” I replied, rolling my eyes up in my head and made myself look like a loon or something like that.

She huffed happily through her teeth.

When I stopped, I added: “Yes, I do actually.  I like to see the pleased looks on people’s faces when they eat something I cooked particularly well.  It makes me feel good to know that they enjoyed something that I created.”

“That’s kinda cool when you put it like that.”  Sandy’s orbs sparkled as the concept settled into her mind.

I breathed a laugh.  I grabbed the handle of the largest skillet and began to turn over the potatoes chunks intermixed with onions, bell peppers and a good dusting of seasoning.  At my side Sandy, flipped an egg, and then tossed a look back toward Leda.  “You’re an over easy kind of girl, right?”

“Yes ma’am,” she answered with a nod.  “So, Estefan, you cook for all of your girlfriends?” she inquired a few moments later.  Her left arm resting across her mid-section, she cupped the elbow of her other, supporting it.  She placed her hand beneath her chin and tapped her fingers across her cheek.

She was being overly speculative as if she were fishing for something deeper, possibly more personal.  Thus, I was careful.  “Not just my girlfriends, Leda, I cook for my family members too, even for my extended family at barbecues and such.”

The tapping slowed.  “But, the girls, they like it, don’t they?”

“I guess… unless I mess something up along the way.  No one likes jacked-up food.”  I shrugged and turned to face her more directly.  “Why do you ask?”

She truly smiled, for the first time today, it reached all the way up to her dark eyes. I was amazed at difference.  She was actually very pretty when she let her guard down and tossed aside the whole “I’m a bitch” attitude, but the tapping continued unabated.  “I think you use t
his, your domestic side, to get them all worked up over you.”  Her laugh was like water over smooth rocks, tumbling and rolling as it spewed forth.

Sandy giggled.

I shrugged anew.  “Once again, if it comes out like crap, I don’t think anyone would be all worked up over me.”

“Yeah, but your good at cooking, so you don’t
‘mess’ up very often I bet.  In a sense, it works just about every time.  Am I right?” she continued to laugh with her chin jutting out before her.

“I don’t know…,” was about all I could say to that.

“It does, I mean look at what it’s doing to Sandy.  She’s about half-way decided whether or not she should jump your bones, and I don’t think it matters all that much that you’re taken,” said the dark haired girl, pointing at her friend.

What a bitch! 
I thought as I watched Sandy’s expression melt into complete ignominy.

“Leda!!!” she exclaimed, getting both Katie’s and Ramona’s attention.

“What?” replied Leda with fake incense.  “You know you’ve always liked the guy.  It’s just that Ramona got dibs, so you’ve laid low.  Right?  Come one, girl, admit it.”

“God, Leda, you can be such a hag when you really want to be.  Is that why you came with us today, so that you could try and make a fool out of me in front of everyone?!?”  Sandy stomped her foot, spun about and placed the spatula on the countertop next to the stove.  She stalked off toward the TV Room without another word.

Ramona went from the dining table after Sandy, scowling at Leda as she passed her.  “That was fucked up,” was all she said.  Then, she was out of the room too.

Leda placed her hands to either side of her, palms up, silently asking what she had done wrong.  Her eyes fell back on me.  “She does like you.  I wasn’t like I was lying or anything, or putting anything out of context
, for that matter.”

Sandy likes me? 
After all this time, she still likes me?  How come I hadn’t seen this before?

“It was sort of mean, though,” piped in Katie as she walked pass the breakfast bar and made her way to me.  She actually picked up the spatula Sandy had been using and began to help. 
Whoa, Katie must be really sick in the head to actually be helping!!!  Better call an ambulance, and fast!