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“You bet I do,” he rasps. “You’ll have to show me tonight, hon.”

I try not to look scandalized because one, their banter is ridiculous. I mean, “my moves” and “big boy”? Where is Romy getting this dialogue? Out of a bad B-rated movie?

But clearly, it works because the heat between my friend and her stepdad is about a thousand degrees, and for the umpteenth time, I look around the cafeteria surreptitiously, wondering if other people are beginning to pick up on the vibe.

But when I slide a sideways look at Stan, he’s eating while staring at his plate. In fact, eating would be an understatement. The man is shoving forkfuls of meatloaf into his mouth like a starving bear before taking a big gulp of Coke and then attacking his mashed potatoes.

“Is everything okay, Stan?” I ask in a low tone.

My handsome guardian’s head jerks up, those blue eyes boring into mine.

“Why?” he barks.

I jerk back, surprised at his harsh tone, but he doesn’t apologize.

“It’s just that you seem very hungry,” I say in a meek voice. “You’re like a starving man who’s just seen manna after a week of fasting.”

Stan lets out a harsh grunt, dark streaks of color slashing across those high cheekbones. But he doesn’t answer and merely turns back to his food, shoveling it in again like there’s no tomorrow.

I turn back to my own dinner without any appetite because I don’t understand what I did to deserve this treatment. I’ve been nothing but polite and appropriate, so why is he treating me like a leper? Again, what did I do?

Of course, there’s the fact that I enjoyed a steamy session in the shower today while dreaming all about him. Unbeknownst to anyone, I snuck in my favorite toy with my luggage, and when I got back from practice, the cabin was empty so I used the opportunity to attach Mr. Pink to the shower stall wall. Then, I began backing myself up on that huge cock until I came with a loud scream. Did Stan hear? I hope not, although images of the gorgeous alpha male were running through my mind during the entire session. It’s so wrong, but with each slam of the toy into my cunt, I was dreaming of my handsome guardian, and I came three times as hard imagining it was the alpha male’s giant member cramming me full.

But there was no sign of Stan when I got out. The cabin was totally empty, despite the fact that a portion of the wooden floor right outside the bathroom looked like it’d just been wiped clean. But maybe it was my imagination. Maybe that shiny spot on the wood had been there the entire time, and I just didn’t notice. So I shrugged it off, and came to the mess hall for dinner.

But now it seems that Stan hates me for some reason, and tears spring to my eyes as I stare at my meatloaf. Damnit. Cheer camp is supposed to be motivational, but instead, all I feel is a sense of despair pervading my form. My shoulders sag as I swallow hard, staring at the wooden table in front of me.

“Okay, does anyone want dessert?” Romy chirps happily. “There’s cheesecake, chocolate chess pie, as well as frozen yogurt de-lite,” she says.

I take a quiet breath and make myself focus before looking up with a smile.

“No, I’m good,” I say in a quiet voice. “How about you guys?”

Of course, George only has eyes for his beautiful stepdaughter.

“You know you’re the only dessert I need, hon,” he rasps under his breath, those blue eyes eating up Romy’s curvaceous figure. “I say we go back to the cabin and enjoy ourselves there.”

Romy giggles while waving a small hand at him.

“Oh you!” she murmurs. “Where do you get these ideas?”

Where indeed? I mutter gloomily to myself. Again, George and Romy have the worst banter ever with their silly, suggestive double entendres, and suddenly, I don’t want to be around them anymore. I can’t stand it. Stan hates me, George and Romy are totally oblivious in their personal La-La Land, and I’m having a terrible time, period. As a result, I get up abruptly, pushing my chair back with a loud scrape on the floor.

“I’m going for a walk around the lake,” I announce in a firm voice. “You guys go ahead and enjoy dessert. I’ll meet you back at the cabin later.”

With that, I grab my tray and bus it, feeling Stan’s blue eyes on my form. But my back stays rigid, and I don’t turn to look at him. Instead, I stalk out of the mess hall and into the evening air before making a right to head to the lake. Fortunately, the evening air is balmy and the water serene as I approach. The lake is deserted as crickets chirp their lonesome song, and I take a deep breath as I try to recover my nerves. Hopefully, a bit of solitude will do the trick because I don’t know if I can take another torturous night with my handsome guardian so near … and yet so far at the same time.

6

Piper

It’s almost midnight by the time I get back to our cabin. The breeze was chilly as I made my way around the lake, but it was totally worth it because I was able to settle down a bit. My mind’s no longer going around in circles, and I remind myself to breathe in through my nose, breathe out through my mouth, and to keep my composure no matter what happens. Stan’s treatment of me at dinner was uncalled for, and I plan on talking to him about it tomorrow.

But now, it’s time to get to bed. I shiver while approaching the log structure, the moonlight illuminating my path. Then, my hand pauses on the door handle. Oh god, is this going to be a repeat of last night? Am I on the threshold of a den of sin? But fortunately, I don’t hear any thumping or ecstatic moaning sounds because I don’t know if I’d be able to take it if Romy and George were going at it like wild animals again. I’d probably cry angry tears, while being turned on at the same time. Either that, or I’d attack Stan, demanding that he touch me in some way, form or manner.

Silent as a mouse, I let myself into the one-room structure and it’s blessedly dark and quiet. There’s a soft whimper from Romy’s side of the room, and I pause for a moment, but it’s just my friend moving in her sleep. The moonlight from the window shows Romy and George cuddled up close, spoon-fashion, his big body shielding her curvy one. My guess is that they probably had sex as soon as they got into bed, and are now wrapped up in a blissful post-coital sleep. I wonder if Stan’s finally caught on.

Meanwhile, our side of the room is cast in shadow, so I can’t really see my guardian, but I sense his big form. He too appears to be dead to the world, and I tiptoe quietly to the bathroom, careful not to disturb my roommates’ slumber. Then I close the door quietly before flicking on the lights, hoping that the glow beneath the door doesn’t disturb anyone. Fortunately, there are no protests and quickly, I brush my teeth and wash my face before slipping into my sleep set. The cami and shorts look super-cute but I sigh while taking in my bounteous curves. It feels futile because it’s all for nothing.

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