The Brat and the Brainiac (8 page)

“Oh, God,” I whisper, when she helps me enter her. “You feel so Goddamned good.”

She starts riding me, her pussy squeezing me with every stroke. I masturbated earlier so I wouldn’t come too fast, but this woman’s too much. I don’t know how long I can last with her on top of me.

How long can she last, either? I realize she’s going faster now, that she’s close to orgasm herself, so I hang on desperately to let her come before I do. She stiffens on top of me and throws her head back, moaning, her breasts jutting out in front of me. I take it as an invitation to grab a handful, and I knead her tits while she recovers from her orgasm. Once she’s back from La La Land, she grabs onto my wrists and starts fucking me again while I play with her breasts.

“Oh, Jason, I love you so much,” she tells me, riding my pole for all its worth. “I’m going to...I’m going to...oh!”

And damned if that girl doesn’t come again. I decide to flip her over and get on top of her.

“Tell me if your butt hurts too much and I’ll stop,” I say.

“Don’t you dare,” she tells me.

I reach under and cradle her ass as I pump into her. I feel the residual heat from the spanking, but she takes it without complaint. A few strokes later, I’m coming, too, and I drop my head on her little shoulder and go with the flow. It feels so good to finally be with her, and I savor my orgasm as it slowly passes on.

When I lift my head, she’s looking at me in fearful dismay. She glances down at her shoulder and I realize I’ve had my head on her scar the whole time. I bend my head down and kiss it lightly.

“You don’t mind? Really?” she asks.

“No, I don’t mind. Give me your head, I’ll kiss that one, too. Got any birthmarks? I’ll kiss them all.”

She giggles and tries to get away, but I pull her in close and spoon with her.

It’s only the afternoon, but we both fall asleep, and by the time we wake up, my room is dark. I reach out and feel for the bedside lamp, and then I click it on. Miranda turns and smiles at me.

“Can I wear my bracelet yet?” she asks.

“Yeah. Go get it, I’ll put it back on you. Oh, and grab my glasses off the counter, will you? Do you know where the light switch is?”

“Yeah. I’ll just feel along the wall.”

She returns a short time later, and I put my glasses on so I can see to clasp the bracelet back onto her wrist. Her skin is soft and her hand is pretty. She looks like she gets a manicure at least once a week. I wonder how she’ll feel about it if she marries me and we have to cut those out. I wonder if she’ll make any money, wonder if writers make anything. Of course, I may get a raise by then, especially if we make it into the playoffs this season, but with the mortgage and the car payment, there’s not a lot of mad money lying around in the bank. I can support her, no doubt, but she might have to learn to live without some of the luxuries she’s used to.

“I’m getting hungry,” I tell her. “Let’s go check out our Italian beefs, see how hard it is to heat them up.”

There are clear directions printed on a slip of paper in the bag, so we heat them up.

“Get ready. Hopefully it’s as good as it is when it’s fresh.”

We both eat our sandwiches, and they’re still decent, but nothing like fresh ones.

“I’ll have to take you to Chicago one of these days,” I tell her. “Then you’ll know.”

When we’re done eating, she asks if we can sit on the couch, instead of the hard wooden chairs in the dining room.

“My butt hurts.”

“Oh, yeah. Let me move this junk,” I say, looking at the implements still lying on th
e
tray. “Do you need this hairbrush back, or can we keep it here.”

“We can keep it here. Uncle Tommy has his own junk.”

I turn swiftly around and look at her, and she’s got her hand covering her mouth.

“What? He spanks you?”

She blushes and says, “Once in a while. Not like you, though. I get to keep my panties on, but I always have to wear a thong.”

My heart starts pounding with raw fear. I hope there’s nothing he’ll want to spank her for in the near future. He might not be too pleased to find his niece with a nicely bruised bottom.

“Don’t do anything wrong, for chrissakes. I wish you’d told me this earlier.”

“Don’t worry,” she says. “He hasn’t spanked me in a long time.”

Famous last words.

I didn’t mean to screw up. I was trying hard not to, which, in fact, is exactly what got me in trouble. I was trying too hard, so I was kind of jumpy and I snapped at my uncle.

“You haven’t had a good spanking in a while, have you?” he asks.

I don’t say anything, because what can I say?

“Now you’re not talking to me? Come on. Let’s go to my study.”

I try to pull away, but Uncle Tommy’s totally strong, so it doesn’t work. He drags me into his study and slams the door.

“What’s wrong with you lately? What’ve you done?”

“Nothing, I swear.”

“Nothing, my ass. You never get all cranky like this unless you’re feeling guilty about something.”

I grasp for straws and blurt it out. “I got a bad grade on a Math test, but I’ve been studying a lot more lately. The next quiz was a B.”

“Then I’m going to spank you for not telling me.”

“You were in Kansas City, and I kind of forgot.”

“Come here.”

“No, come on.”

“I’m tired of your bitchy attitude. Now get over here, because if I have to get up and drag you over, you’re getting the paddle instead of just my hand.”

I creep forward slowly. I’ve checked it out in the mirror and I know the worst of the bruises on my butt have healed, but there are some that are still faintly visible.

“God damn it, Miranda, get over here before I get pissed off.”

I give up and go to him and he pulls me over his lap. He flips my skirt up right away and, unfortunately for me, I’m already wearing thong panties, so my bottom’s almost bare.

It’s quiet for a moment. Deadly quiet. I swallow hard, because I know the jig is up.

“What the hell is this?” he asks me.

“What’s what?” I say, trying my best to play it off.

“Your ass is bruised.”

“Oh, that. I fell down the stairs.”

“Bullshit. This looks like you’ve had a good paddling. Now you’d better start telling me the truth before I take my belt to you.”

“Okay. Fine. Jason spanked me.”

“Who the fuck gave him permission to spank you?”

“I guess I did. Sort of.”

“Get up.”

I climb up off his lap and he gestures for me to sit down.

“What’s he spanking you for?”

“What I said. A bad grade.”

He doesn’t look placated, and I bite my lip.

“You’re not seeing him anymore,” he tells me.

“But Uncle Tommy, I have to. I love him.”

“How are you going to love a guy who beats your ass like that?”

“You do it all the time and I love you.”

Instead of calming him down, this enrages him. He gets up and goes for his ball cap.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“I’m going to kick his ass.”

“No. You can’t. He’s half your size.”

“He should’ve thought of that first.”

He slams out of the house and I hear his car peel away. I get on the phone immediately to call Jason.

“Yes?”

“Uncle Tommy found out you spanked me and he’s coming there to kill you.”

Jason doesn’t say anything for a moment, then he finally speaks.

“He hasn’t hurt you, has he?”

“No,” I tell him. “He won’t hurt me. Not like that.”

“What about me? Do you think he’ll hurt me?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen him this mad.”

“Oh, shit. I have to go. I think he’s here.”

He sets the phone down without hanging up, and I can hear the heavy pounding in the background, then the door opening and Uncle Tommy yelling at him. I can’t hear the words, though, or Jason’s response to them, but
I
know the exact second Uncle Tommy punches him, because I hear him say, “Ow! You broke my fucking glasses.”

They must’ve moved further into the room, because I can hear them more clearly now.

“Get up, I’ll knock you down again.”

“Why don’t you calm down?”

“What’re you doing spanking my niece?”

“Disciplining her. She’s doing bad in Math, and I’m trying to keep her from failing.”

“Well, I’m the one who disciplines her, not you. You stay away from her and keep your Goddamn hands off her from now on.”

“Fuck that. She’s an adult. Hit me again, I’ll call the general manager, see how he likes a member of his coaching staff being attacked by a player.”

“Just stay away from her.”

I don’t hear anything for a few seconds, so I figure Uncle Tommy has left. I look on my phone and write down Jason’s contact information, because knowing Uncle Tommy and his temper, he’ll probably come home and throw my phone across the room.

“Are you there?” says Jason.

“Yes.”

“He blacked my eye and broke my glasses.”

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry.”

“You’d better get off the phone before he gets home. Try to call me later.”

“I will. I love you, Jason. Goodbye.”

“Bye, Sweetie.”

When Uncle Tommy gets home a short time later, he grabs my phone and deletes Jason’s contact information.

“You’re not to see him again.”

I push my way past him out of the room, but he follows me out and down the staircase.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To find the newspaper. I’m getting a job and an apartment and you can go to hell.”

“I can go to hell?
I
can go to hell? After everything I’ve done for you?”

“Yes. Thank you. You raised me and kept me out of the orphan’s home, but I’m an adult now, and you still treat me like a child.”

“What do you call what he did?”

“I call it consenting adults doing consenting adult things.”

I go into the media room and find the newspaper next to my uncle’s chair. I grab it and take it into the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” says Ignatius. “I heard you guys fighting.”

“Uncle Tommy’s pissed off, and I’m looking for a job.”

He leaves me to it, but there’s not much I’m qualified to do, apart from being a receptionist or a data entry person. I roll the paper up and use it to smack the counter about half a dozen times.

“I can’t find anything,” I tell Ignatius.

“Why don’t you have a drink and relax?”

“I hate this place. He thinks he owns me.”

Suddenly, Uncle Tommy appears.

“You shut your little mouth in here,” he tells me.

“Fuck you. Fuck you.”

Eyes like fire, he comes and grabs me, ripping me out of my seat and dragging me to the back door. He opens it like he did with Dennis, but instead of flinging me out, he just shoves me out the door.

“Fuck me, huh? Find yourself another place to live.”

“I need my purse and keys,” I tell him.

“Hold on,” he says, shutting the door in my face. He comes back a couple of minutes later and the door flies open. He hurls my purse and keys out into the driveway. My purse hits the ground and skids, and Uncle Tommy slams the door shut again. I hear the lock tumblers click into place and I know he’s locked me out.

“You asshole,” I shout. “I paid a lot of money for this purse.”

The door remains shut, so I pick up my stuff and go to my car. I want to talk to Jason, but I’m afraid Uncle Tommy will come out and smash my phone or something, so I back out of the driveway and drive a little way up the block before I stop to call him.

As soon as I pull my phone out, I burst into tears. It’s a good thing he’s on my call log or I’d be up shit creek.

“Yes?” he answers.

“Jason? My uncle threw me out. Do you mind if I come to your place for a few minutes?”

“He threw you out?”

“Yes.”

“That guy’s out of control right now. Do you need me to come pick you up?”

“No. I can make it.”

“All right. Come on, then, and be careful.”

I get to his place about ten minutes later, and the courtyard looks so inviting that I feel like I’m home. I go to knock on the door, but he’s waiting for me and apparently sees me coming. He opens the door and pulls me in, and then he throws his arms around me. His left eye is purple and nearly swollen shut, and it makes me want to cry all over again.

“Oh, Jason, I’m so sorry.”

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“Yes.”

“You want me to go beat his ass?” he offers. “I doubt if I can, but I’ll give it a try.”

“No. It’s okay.”

“What happened?”

I fill him in on the details, and he looks like he’s getting madder and madder as I go on.

“Fuck that,” he tells me. “You don’t need to rent an apartment. Just stay here with me.”

“I have no clothes.”

“Well, drive me to the mall to get my glasses fixed and I’ll buy you some.”

While we’re at the mall, my phone rings. I glance at it and see it’s Uncle Tommy, so I press Ignore. It rings again a little while later. I repeat the procedure, and he doesn’t call back a third time. The next person who calls me is Ignatius. Part of me is afraid Uncle Tommy has threatened his job or something, so I answer.

“I forgot to tell you,” says Ignatius. “Kevin’s moving in with me.”

“Does Uncle Tommy know?”

“Of course he knows. You think I wouldn’t get permission first?”

“No, I guess not. He’d probably kick you out, too.”

“Speaking of which, he feels bad for what he’s done.”

“Good. He should.”

“Where are you right now?”

Feeling a little paranoid after the day’s events, I hesitate.

“Don’t tell him, okay?”

Even without being there, I can see his stiffened posture, the expression of surprise on his face.

“What am I, a spy, now?”

“No. Sorry. It’s just...I can’t take any more of his tantrums today. You should see poor Jason’s face.”

Just then, I hear a bunch of muffled noises and a protest from Ignatius, and then I hear Uncle Tommy’s voice.

“Nanda, listen,” he says, but I don’t. I just start talking over him.

“No, you listen, pally. I’m out, okay? Just give me a few days and I’ll come and get the rest of my stuff.”

“Come on,” he tells me. “Come home. I’m sorry.”

“That wasn’t me, Miranda,” I hear Ignatius say in the background. “He took my phone.”

“Give him back his phone and quit calling me,” I tell Uncle Tommy, “or I know about thirty little baseball groupies at school who’d love to know where you live.”

He doesn’t say another word, and I guess he probably shoved the phone back into Ignatius’s hand, because Ignatius comes back on and apologizes again.

“No, that’s cool,” I tell him. “I know it wasn’t you.”

All of a sudden, I realize I left Jason’s bracelet lying on my nightstand, where I took it off before bed last night. I start to cry, right in the middle of the eyeglass store.

“I’ve got to go,” I tell Ignatius, praying Uncle Tommy stays out of my room and doesn’t do anything to my bracelet. I put the phone away and point toward the doorway out to the mall to let Jason know I’m going out for some air.

He comes out a little while later and sits beside me, putting his arm around me for a squeeze.

“They said to come back in an hour and my glasses will be finished,” he tells me. “They couldn’t fix the old ones, so they’re making me some new ones.”

“They’re the same as the old ones, right? I liked the old ones.”

“Yeah, they’re the same. Do you want to go get a soda or something?”

I nod, and he takes me to the food court. There are Help Wanted signs on almost every booth, but I don’t really want to work in food service. I can’t lie around leeching off Jason, though, so I ask for a couple of applications here and there.

“You’re seriously going to work the pizza joint in the mall?”

“Yes, if I have to.”

“What about school?”

“I’ll work around my schedule. I promise.”

“How much is your tuition?”

“I don’t know. Uncle Tommy always pays it.”

“We have to find out,” he tells me.

“Okay, but at least we’re paid up for this semester, except I have to take a couple of classes in summer school to make up for changing my major.”

“Well, find out how much it is and I’ll try to cover it.”

I look at him sharply.

“Really? You’d do that for me?”

“No wife of mine’s going to be a college dropout.”

I almost choke on the sip of soda I’m taking, but I can’t suppress my smile as I say, “Wife? Are you for real?”