Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 13

"You're a girl and, um, I'm not, that's all."

"No, you definitely aren't, and it's a little weird for me too, but I'm glad you're my brother. It made it easier when mom died and dealing with dad. I wish I could remember how things were back then...when mom was alive. Was he the same back then?"

"I don't know," he said. "Candy, mom, I remember her always being there and making it easier. I hope she has some pictures." Evan wasn't glad that his father married their babysitter turned nanny, but at least they didn't lose her too.

"She's great, but once they got married everything changed," she said.

"She'd let me race."

"She'd let me wear make-up and date, but dad..." Deana's voice faded out.

"Yeah, you're right, I'm screwed," he said, and blew out a long breath.

Deana said, "Talk to Cindy. You know how smart she is. She might be able to help. Heck, Aunt Julia isn't much different than dad, and Cindy got to wear make up, date and race."

"Hmm, maybe, but Uncle JC is totally different from dad and Aunt Julia. He's so southern."

They laid there another thirty minutes, talking about their father, Gloria and how things were changing so fast. Their junior year was coming quickly to a close and neither of them admitted to knowing what they wanted to do with the rest of their lives. Evan didn't tell Deana his fallback plan if racing didn't work out.

"Thanks for listening," he said, and got up. "You're all right...for a sister."

"You too," she said, "I mean as a brother."

He walked to the door, then looked back. Deana was still flat on her back, but her legs were lifted straight out off the end of the bed. He asked the question with his eyes and a chin gesture.

Deana's face showed strain. "I may not do gymnastics, but I have to mind my lumps, my humps, my lovely lady lumps."

He smiled, thinking about Bubble-Butt Heaven. "It's working," he said, then quickly changed the subject. "What's up with Mom? That outfit today was, um, you know."

Deana grinned and arched her eyebrows. "My guess...she's trying to get a little-"

"Stop, I can't hear you." He put his hands over his ears. "I don't even think about those things." He left Deana's room, thinking about them doing it, and it made him angry.

Candy had felt sexy, and she knew Evan had noticed, but John hadn't. She dried off and pulled her hair into a ponytail, then slipped into her new robe. The purple silk caressed her flesh and made her tingle all over. In the full length mirror, she tied the sash, adjusted and readjusted it until the robe was not so closed- perfectly then she ran her fingers through the deep valley between her breasts and went to the living room.

John was sitting in his recliner. She waited patiently for him to look up from his paperwork but ended up having to clear her throat to get his attention. She crossed her arms under her chest and leaned forward. "You gonna be long?"

He sighed. "I've got this mess up at the Coffeeville plant." He glanced over the top of his glasses and added, "Not too long. Give me a little while and I'll be in. Okay."

"Okay...I'll be waiting." She turned and left the living room.

Candy sat seductively on the bed, frustration mounting with each passing minute. She felt like a beggar. She went back to the mirror and untied the bow. Her robe opened slowly, slipping away from the center of her body. It caught on the crown of each tit, revealing the fullness of her globes and the depth of her cleavage. She stared at her body. Her hand circled her flat stomach, then dove down across the narrow strip of pubic hair and grasped the fullness of her bald pussy-lips. The sound of her moan frightened her. It had been a long time since she'd felt that way. She was horny like a teenager, desperate, trapped and lonely.

Her every suggestive move had turned Zachary into a drooling mess of hormones, and Evan, her own step-son, had stared with his mouth open. Why wouldn't her husband want her? She dropped the robe to the floor and swept her hands up her body. Her nipples were swollen and sensitive. She lifted her tit and sucked on the

hard bud, then held it with her teeth. On a much taller woman, or a

stripper, her tits might look normal, but on her tiny frame they were larger-than-life. Zachary would have given anything to feel them, take them in his mouth. She shifted her hips side-to-side, then turned and looked back at her ass. All the right curves were still there. What was the problem?

She picked up her robe and walked into the connected office. She passed John's massive desk, where his computer kept track of her coming and going, and went to her desk. She checked over her shoulder while the Internet window returned her search results. Her heart thumped in her chest and her stomach churned. So much had changed since she was a sneaky-peeky little girl. That's what her daddy called her, "A precocious, sneaky-peeky little girl." Was that her fault?

A precocious little girl had been born, but a sneaky-peeky little girl had been created by events not of her own doing.

She was so young and impressionable that night the power went out. She had blinked hard in the darkness, trying to see the source of the noise the strange sound that had awoken her. She shut her eyes, then opened them wide, but still the same blackness. Something unfamiliar and a little scary was close to her.

The whole family had been huddled in the living room to ride out the storm. A candle had been the only light when she fell asleep on the couch, but now even that was gone. Rain pounded the trailer's roof, but that was a familiar sound for a Southern girl. She strained her eyes and inched closer. Fear crept into her belly. Was it a monster?

Lightning flashed so bright it hurt her eyes, then thunder rocked the trailer and shook the windows in their sills. In that instant of brilliant light, she had seen it. She didri't understand it, but the image was burned into her brain like a picture on film. She could have forgotten a monster, but there hadn't been a monster.

The noise grew more intense, as did her curiosity. She pretended to be asleep, but kept staring. White light followed by more thunder brought an excitement that tightened Candy's chest. She knew she was seeing something she wasn't supposed to see. Why was that so exciting?

The furious hammering of rain on tin couldn't silence the slap. slap, slapping sound of... Something funny was happening between her legs and an electric current was running through her insides.

That night, the darkness hid so much from her, but there were plenty of opportunities for a sneaky little girl to find out what happened behind closed doors, and why it made her feel so good when she saw it. How else would a precocious girl learn?

There had been drastic changes in technology since that night, but not much had changed inside the precocious girl. Candy was breathing hard. She had justification. Or was it rationalization?