I hardly got to see Stefan during these times since he was always at work with his dad. But when I did get to see him, oh my.
He would often come home from work covered in sweat, dust, and dirt, dressed in jeans and a torn-up, dirty shirt that would expose his flesh here and there. But every time I saw him, I swear my ovaries started mass-producing hormones that screamed at me to tell Stefan to take me right then and there on the living room floor. It wasn’t that out of bounds, though. Stefan just looked like a walking ad for cologne, something unapologetically manly like Brut or Old Spice, something for a real man. And Stefan looked like the walking embodiment of a real man.
Surprisingly enough, Stefan seemed to love his job and I was happy for him. But I couldn’t help but worry about what was going to happen to us. We had an unknown blackmailer waiting for us to make a move and a baby complicating matters.
Due to the volatile situation we were in, it was only a matter of time before we would be forced to leave the house and find shelter elsewhere. That, or tell the truth.
It was on a Friday afternoon that I found myself doing laundry for the family. Stefan and Terry were at work, and Mom was somewhere in the house pretending to be doing something important.
I had been on my feet pretty much all day and was ready to sit down, but I knew that I wouldn’t catch a break long before Mother had some other chore for me to do.
I was loading in a bunch of white clothing in the washer when I came upon a pair of Stefan’s underwear.
I peeked at them, wondering if they had been worn because they looked clean. Then I was hit by an errant thought. My hormones were raging, and I couldn't help but imagine him standing before me in nothing but his boxers.
I imagined getting down on my knees and slipping his huge cock out of the slit and sliding it into my mouth. Maybe it was the hormones or maybe it was just that it was Stefan, but sucking his cock until he blew a load in my mouth was constantly on my mind. I must have been standing there appearing to be in ecstasy.
“Hey, I forgot to tell you to make sure you don’t put bleach in—what in the world are you doing?” There was my mom, standing there in the doorway, staring at me like I was nuts.
I jumped like a rabbit and tossed Stefan’s boxers into the washer. “Uh, nothing,” I replied quickly, my mind racing, “I was just checking if those were dirty or not.”
My mom made a face. “You sure about that? You were practically inhaling those things.” My mom shook her head. “Anyway, don’t forget that I need your help cooking dinner. This is a big day for Terry, so I want to have a nice dinner ready for when he comes home.”
“Okay, Mom,” I said dutifully, closing the lid on the washer. “I’m on it.”
My mom beamed at my obedience. “You know what, Bella? I don’t know what happened to you at that school, but I really like how you’re acting now. Like a changed young woman.”
“Thank you,” I said with a sweet smile. “I just think I needed a little change of perspective, that’s all.”
Mom just ate it up. “I think so too. Now, all we have to do is find you another school to go to.”
I sighed when my mom left. I didn’t say anything to her because I didn’t want to argue, but there was no way I could go back to school. I mean, I eventually wanted to, but with the pregnancy, I wouldn’t be able to go next semester.
Stefan and Terry returned home hours later when Mom and I were putting the finishing touches on the pot roast in the oven. The smell of meat filled the house as I added buttered rolls onto the top rack of the oven.
Terry was the first one in, dressed in his usual business attire, his face lit with excitement. “Evelyn!” he shouted. “We finished the theater, and it's magnificent.”
My mom, who had been drying her hands at the sink, let out a squeal of delight and ran out of the kitchen into Terry’s arms. “Congratulations!”
The two embraced each other and kissed multiple times before my mother pulled away. “Now you won’t mind continuing to pay for Bella’s education.”
Terry glanced my way, his smile dimming slightly. “I suppose not. As long as she's going to stick with it.”
Stefan walked in behind my parents and my jaw almost dropped to the floor. He was covered from head to toe in dirt and sweat, but that didn’t matter to me. Forget looking like a model, he looked like a god in his torn jeans and tank top with his massive biceps on display.
Feelings of strong desire ran through me and I needed to hold on to the kitchen counter for support.
“Sweet Jesus, Stefan,” my mom complained as she surveyed the sexy mess that was Stefan. “Do you just roll in the dirt for fun at the construction site or something?”