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Since the first draft was such a wasteland of grammar errors I thought revision was prudent. I think it’s best to see one task done before proceeding to another. Thank you all for your feedback, It was greatly appreciated.
Special thanks to Java Enthusiast for editing my story, you did a wonderful job.
All characters are over 18, and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.
A sharper mind than mine said that happy families are all alike, but every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. There is doubtless some truth to that, but as with every rule, there is an exception that proves it. This blunt mind lacks the authoritative clout to refute that but feels confident enough to offer an anecdote. One family comes to mind. They were at times happy, and other times unhappy, and all things in between, but they were decidedly not like most other families.
At first glance the Loven family was much like any other. There was a father, Peter, and a mother, Liz, and four children. Their sole son, Daniel, was the oldest, and he was burdened with the herculean task of growing up with three younger sisters. There was the eldest daughter, Mara, and the twins, Laura and Jessica. They fought, reconciled, studied, grew, and did all the other things a family would be expected to under any reasonable expectations.
You may be confused, as this sounds strange in no sense of the word. Life is the strangest thing a person can experience, and for Peter, Liz, Daniel, Mara, Laura, and Jessica this proved itself to be true ad nauseum.
“No, I couldn’t sleep. The corpulent fucker next to me basically flattened me all the way from Rome to London. I thought I was gonna die of osmosis.” Daniel Loven sat on a steel airport bench, with his phone in one hand, and a positively putrid cup of coffee in the other. “Yeah, I can’t wait to see you either. I know we had a lot of fun last summer, but I really had to get some work hours in this summer. Cash rules everything around me, get the money.” Despite his best efforts, Daniel felt put out. Beyond the jet lag, vile coffee, and sweat of another passenger, he also had to explain to his girlfriend, Anna, why he couldn’t spend the summer with her on a research project. They’d had this conversation a few times, each more taxing than the last.
Dan Loven was part of an esteemed group of men. He was attractive, but not attractive enough to merit identification as an attractive person. No one passed him in the street and thought to themselves, “damn, that guy’s a fucking stud.” Dan was just Dan. At six foot, Daniel wasn’t a remarkably tall man. He kept in shape, spending long hours in the pool, but wasn’t “ripped” so to speak.
“Anna, if I could have it another way I would, but there’s really no substitute for actual work hours, and if I want to graduate on time, I really need to learn to apply my lessons.”
Daniel said in what he prayed was an even and compassionate tone. She wasn’t a demanding person, Anna. In fact, she was a remarkably understanding person. This angst was out of character for her, a fact that didn’t aid Daniel in being the understanding and loving boyfriend he aspired to be. Their conflict arose from the fact that Anna would be in the woods for two months out of contact.
Jet lag can make the sweetest person a positively draconian bitch, and Daniel was a candidate for that sweetest person. The only reason he wasn’t yelling was because he wanted a serious future with Anna. “I love you, with at least three quarters of my heart, but I can’t have this conversation right now. I’ll call you when I’ve had some sleep, vino, and some time to think. Talk to you later, bye… Yes, I really do love you.” And then he was alone, with his caustic coffee, three hours of sleep, head and heartache.
Rome to London, four-hour layover in London, then London to Chicago, seven-hour layover in Chicago, then a direct flight from Chicago to Seattle. Not great. The barbarism of this travel was only tolerated due to Daniel’s gratitude of the opportunity he was given. He had spent the past three weeks in Italy, photographing just about everything older than himself. Technically he was supposed to be researching Mussolini’s impact on Italian architecture, but that was a problem for future Daniel. Being one of those people who has to make themselves busy, he had decided early on that he wanted to pursue both his passion for history and photography at the university level. This led him first to declaring a double major of Photography and History, then to months of regret, then to shocked relief when his university offered him a place in a summer study program. They paid for his travel expenses, his housing expenses, and even gave him a weekly stipend of two hundred Euros.
Aside from the obvious academic interest, Daniel was simply happy to get out of the states for a bit. He indulged himself in every cliché an American in Italy could imagine, of which there are many. He even halkalı escort did the romantic Venetian gondola ride, albeit with only a nice two drink buzz as a romantic companion. But all good things come to an end, and soon Daniel was drawn stateside by the eldritch forces of pre-bought plane tickets.
He wanted to return to his family for the remaining two months of his summer. A familiar bed and a loving family are easy to miss while traveling abroad. He also couldn’t afford to rent his own place in Seattle over the summer, so it looked like he was back under his parents’ roof.
After an excruciating taxi ride, Daniel found himself outside his childhood home. A house is remarkable only if it houses remarkable people. The Loven household was nothing too special to look at, but it was his home, and Daniel Loven could think of nothing more wonderful to behold.
Bags in hand, he approached the front door. From the corner of his eye he saw a curtain move slightly, and a shadow move past it. Daniel steeled himself and moved to knock. Before he got past the second knock, he found himself tackled and pinned to the walk.
“Daaaaannnn! Wheeerrreeee haaaavvvveee yoooouuuu beeeeen?” shouted Mara, just inches from his right ear. He was being hugged, but also crushed. He tried to respond but could only wheeze.
“Oh shit. Sorry, Dan.” Mara got off of him, and offered him a hand up. Taking it, Daniel was pulled to his feet by his oldest sister.
“Jesus, Mara, it’s nice to see you too.” They shared a proper hug. Dan stepped back and looked his sister up and down. She was a sight to behold. With a blonde pixie cut, tight jeans, and a black tank top, she exuded a slightly aggressive attractiveness that was both disarming and enticing. Her face was feminine, but not dainty. She had gorgeous high cheekbones, and a never ceasing smile, and kind eyes. Mara took care of her body. She wasn’t a gym-rat by any means but was quite familiar with a squat rack. As such, her thighs were stunning, and her ass could only be described as a bubble butt. Her chest was equally impressive, as the thin tank top did little to conceal the substantial rack.
As he looked over his sister, he realized he had been fixated on her body, in a rather lustful way. “Damn,” he thought to himself. “She’s a snacc.”
As Daniel looked over his sister she returned the favor, with decidedly less flattering results. “You smell and look like shit. You look like Steve Bannon lost weight and the demon possessing him.” Mara delivered bluntly, with a slight smile at her own wit.
Daniel opened and closed his mouth in a vain attempt to retort. He had to concede; he did look like shit.
Picking up one of his bags, Mara led him into the house. The familiar living room was a breath of fresh air to the returning traveler. The house seemed quiet though. “Where is everyone? I expected a hero’s welcome,” Daniel said with his best indignant voice. Mara turned and smirked, “Sorry, Steve, I’m the only wench here, and the mutton is still on the spit. They’re all out; they should start coming in in a few hours. Anyway, how was your flight?”
Setting his bags down in the living room, they walked into the kitchen and sat across from each other at the counter. Mara brewed some coffee, and Daniel set about remedying himself of his fatigue. They spent the next hour catching up, and Dan regaled his sister with tales of Italian debauchery and subsequent regret. His sister spoke extensively about her time at university and gave great detail the level of lab drama she was privy to. Mara was a rising Junior at an out of state university and had declared a biology major earlier that year. She was spending the summer at home for the same reason any college student would want to return to a loving family over the summer: purely financial ones.
Mara’s love of biology presented Daniel with ample ammunition with which to annoy her. “Classic Mara,” He said slowly. “Can’t handle regular biology, has to settle for Microbiology. Smaller objects, smaller concepts. You should get a REAL science, like history.” This brought a scowl at least partially genuine to Mara’s lips. “History,” she said slowly and forcefully, “is not a science.”
“Of course it is. It’s a social science, or as we in the department call it, one of the original sciences. We, the esteemed historians of the world, deal with the real questions of the universe.”
“Go fuck yourself.” Microbiologists have a way with words.
“That’s an ad hominem, Mara, and I can prove it with a detailed historiography. Plus, photography is a STEM field. We deal with photons and light and angles and shit.”
This tedious back and forth went on far longer than is interesting in a narrative. After some time, the subject changed.
“Don’t you want some sleep? If you can shut up for five minutes you can get some sleep.” Mara interjected evenly. Setting his third mug of taksim escort coffee down, Daniel wearily replied. “No, think I need to power through and go to bed at a normal time. I’m nine hours off, so I’ll obliterate my sleep schedule if I drop now.”
Mara looked both concerned and bemused. “Can I get you anything? Red-Bull? Bath Salts? Jesus…?”
Daniel laughed, a wheezing, fatigued, laugh, but a laugh all the same. “Just another pot of coffee, and maybe an IV. It might help to mainline this next couple cups.”
They sat a while longer. After a not non-awkward silence, Daniel emptied his cup, stood, and beckoned his sister into the living room. Striding into the sitting room with Mara in tow, he hefted one of his checked bags onto the coffee table. Unzipping it, he withdrew first a few bottles of wine, then a bottle of good Amaretto, and finally a small hefty object wrapped in a sweater. With the utmost care the object was unwrapped, with each movement more of the white material underneath. A marble figure of a nude woman, about a foot high, stood upon the table. “I got this for Mom and Dad from a sculptor in Milan. What do you think?”
There was silence, as Mara surveyed the contents of the low table. Finally, she spoke. “You’re a goddamn walking cliché, you know that? You spend a month in Italy free of charge, and you return with booze and a Venus de Milo. I don’t know what the Italian version of a weeb is, but you my friend are it.” While her statement was not short on truth, Dan had his own input on the matter. “Yeah, I brought booze, but this statue is different. It may look like a Venus de Milo, but it’s actually an original. Notice how the artist restored her arms? But that’s not the cool thing. The cool thing is he carved this statue from a larger work. It’s from a pedestal of a larger, shattered, statue of Venus. I call it the Venus de Cesare, after its sculpture, Cesare.”
This prompted a re-examination of the figure from the previously critical Mara. “I suppose it is rather beautiful.”
The figure stood in the traditional pose of the Venus de Milo, but it was inexplicably unique. A viewer would have a hard time explaining why, but it felt as a unique and odd work unto itself. Her face was graced by a subtle and seductive smile, and her eyes seemed livelier than marble should be. Her breasts, though carved from cold marble, seemed soft to the viewing eye, as if the stone was a mere facade and underneath lay a real woman. The statue became stranger the longer it was viewed, and it was easy to lose oneself in the analysis of it.
The two siblings realized that they had been staring at the figure for several moments and brought themselves down to earth. “You’re still a cliché, but one with good taste,” said Mara. She moved to pick it up but was surprised by its density. It felt far heavier in the hand than marble should be, almost as if it were made of lead. “Yeah, it’s got some heft to it,” said Daniel.
Their study of the figure was interrupted by the return of the rest of the Loven family. A car pulled into the driveway, and soon the four absent Lovens’ found themselves greeted by their long-departed son and brother.
“Hi honey,” said Daniel’s mother, Liz, as she hurried over and gave him a big hug. “I’m so glad you’re back home.” Daniel’s mother was a curvaceous woman, and to say she looked young for her age did a disservice to her. She had aged far better than many of her friends, and her face was as vibrant and joyous as it had ever been. Wide hips, thick thighs, and a large rump all stood out to any visitor in the Loven house. Her breasts were even larger than Mara’s…
Dan shook his head. He was having weird thoughts about his family again. “God, I need to sleep.” He thought.
It was then that Daniel was surrounded by the twins, Laura and Jessica. They were gymnasts, and dainty ones at that. They had developed into women while he and Mara were in college. Lithe was the only word that did them justice. Tight butts, perky tits, and the flexibility to…
Daniel again caught himself.
“Hi, girls, it’s good to see you too.” Dan managed to say as he was squeezed tight in their embrace. “We’ve missed you so much,” said Laura. “If you’d been here a day earlier you could have made it to our gymnastics meet,” said Jessica.
“Your sisters did exceptionally well, Daniel. They’ve got a real shot at going at the national team,” their mother added with pride in her voice.
Jessica and Laura beamed up at Dan, still hugging him tight. They released Daniel as his father strode over to him and held him in a strong bear hug. Peter Loven was an emotional man, and his pride for his children was matched only by his love for his wife.
Peter had aged like a fine wine, and not in the sense that he was gradually turning to vinegar. No gray hairs marred his head, and he had not gained weight after having children and settling down into the routine of marriage. He kept in shape and tried şişli escort his best to stay looking good for his Liz’s sake.
“You smell like sweat and shitty french fries,” Peter said as they released each other. “I take it the flight wasn’t kind to you.”
“I’ll tell you all about it when we sit down,” his son offered. Attention was suddenly drawn from the ragged Daniel to the statue on the table, as Jessica looked inquisitively at it. Soon the whole family stood around to admire the figure.
“You’ve got strange taste in women, son. I usually prefer them about five feet taller,” Peter said jokingly.
“Yeah, but look at that rack,” Mara interjected, receiving a quick judging look and a rebuke from her mother. “Don’t use such crass language, Dear. It’s unattractive.”
“It’s strange; I can’t put my finger on it, but something seems off about it,” Peter said quietly. Before raising his voice again. “Well, regardless, I think it’s a stunning little thing. Thank you, Dan. It’ll go right on our mantle.” With substantial effort, their father hefted the statue upon the family mantle, between a family photo taken in Tenochtitlan, and the ashes of their cat, whiskers.
Surveying the mantle, Liz seemed to approve of the new decoration. “We’ve got everything we need. Family photo, Goddess of Lust, dead cat. It’s all there.”
The next several hours were a daze for Daniel. A blur of stories, coffee, and simply wishing he could sleep. Jet lag reduces to world to a fuzzy blur. But through the haze, Dan felt disconcerted. Something was off. He was happy to be home, surely, but home felt strange. There was a strange sense of tension in the house, as it something was unsaid. How he had thought of his sisters and mother weighed heavy on his mind. “Jesus Christ,” he thought. “What the fuck is wrong with me. I haven’t had sex in a month and this is how low I’ve sunk?”
Amid the milling about and chatting, his attention kept being drawn to the statue on the mantle. It simply wouldn’t stay out of his thoughts.
Barely summoning the energy to stand, let alone speak, Dan called Anna to say goodbye and to wish her luck on her study program. They shared gentle words and promised to see each other soon. And as soon as he hung up, Dan came to the depressing realization that he wasn’t getting laid for another three months. Thankfully, at that point, he was too tired to care.
The energy of the house had abated, and as the sun sank Dan felt the calling of bed. He’d been up more or less for thirty-six hours. After kissing his mother and sisters on the cheek, and hugging his father goodnight, he practically limped to bed. He got underneath the covers and was gone.
He fell deep into sleep, far deeper than he had ever before. He fell past dreams and visions and into an infinite black nothing. He felt he had slept a lifetime.
And then, he found himself staring at a black slate. He saw no end to it, no edge or curve, no matter where he looked. He stared for a while at the blackness, and gradually he saw depth to it. In that depth he saw light, little dots of light. They were stars, it occurred to him. As he watched the stars, he tried to move, and found his movements were weighted, as if something pushed back at them. He was floating, but where and how he knew not. As slowly as he had seen the stars, he began to sink. First his feet, then his hips, then his chest and arms, and finally his head. He felt his face slip below to surface, and all was again black.
The first thing he felt when he awoke was an ache, dull but constant, in his groin. Gradually coming to his senses, he realized he had an erection; an absolute stunner of an erection. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so hard.
Lifting up the sheets he looked at his cock, which throbbed and twitched as it pinned for release. The slit in his glans glistened, and for a moment he was worried he would stain the sheets.
“I can’t go downstairs looking like this,” he thought. “I better address this issue.” Daniel reached down to stroke himself, and found his dick was hot to the touch. He shivered a little as he stroked himself and started to work his shaft. It felt good, but he didn’t feel himself getting any closer to climax.
He doubled his efforts and thought about the last time he and Anna had fucked. It was just before he left for Italy. Daniel had tied her hands behind her back, leaned her over the bed while grabbing her hair, and fucked her long and hard. Soon her legs had been shaking as her juices fell freely down the insides of her legs and dripped off of Daniel balls. He had practically fucked her into her mattress. He had untied her hands and thrown her onto the bed. Placing her legs on his shoulders Daniel had resumed thrusting, as his cock shined with her juice, and buried itself deep within her again and again. As she climaxed, she quivered and moaned. Hearing Anna moan was a constant source of arousal for Dan.
His pace quickened as he grew closer himself, and he watched with delight as her tits bounced with his thrusts. Slipping her legs off of his shoulders, he buried himself as deep as he could in her slick warm cunt and emptied his jizz into her. Her eyes had rolled up in her head, her mouth open in a silent gasp, as she felt herself be filled to the brim with his hot cum.
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