It has been a long day. Again. School, work, training. Fortunately the work is not a hard one, Yvonne and me are lucky ones. We are helping in posting of the local newspaper and various societies' postal work, and we have found this work quickly. It doesn't pay too much, but enough to cover the expenses of the planned competitions. It is all because of my father. He behaves strange nowadays. Okay, okay, it wasn't too kind to him, when we were going with the Moore sisters to the hills during the summer holiday, but it is not a big issue. He could easily let us go, but he somehow didn't. We didn't really understood why he refused the offer of the Moores. The camp was good, the work was relatively easy, and we could train to be better. It was a unmissable chance for both of us.
Well, I do know why my father didn't let us go to the mountains. It is all because of Vanessa. She is a natural talent, but very whiny and delicate girl. Delicate, up to being called picky. No matter how we grew up together, no matter how much my love was, she carried her nose so high that there was no question of sex. Not like Taylor. But my father would never understand that, so I am forced to take the punishment he imposed on us. I go to work to earn money for the sake of my future. We only have to persevere until my dad calms down a bit. So the training shifts to the evening. Fortunately Master Savannah is willing to train us after the usual training hours. We are above our former clubmates' levels anyway, so there is a meaning to train in another time. Just Yvonne, me and Taylor.
Taylor is a very good fighter, although she doesn't like martial arts. But she has training since she was a little kid, and her sister is the trainer in the school now, so she has to help her to do the trainings. I need a partner, because Yvonne is weaker than me, and she is usually working with Savannah. It is hard to kick or beat Taylor, because I really love her. But she knows how to tease me to make the training serious. I am in love with her. From head to toe. She is the most beautiful girl in the world, and I am the happiest man in the world, that she chose me.
We are spending all the time we could. Fortunately we are in the same class, although she doesn't work. She is now sitting in the living room, and waiting for me to sit next to her. Yvonne and Savannah are chatting about the competition, their conversation is heated up, so I have a chance to see my love only. I put down the tray with the drinks, and sit closer to Taylor. She is cuddling up to me. This feeling make me over the clouds.
"Would you like to see my room?" I whisper into her ears.
She is not a shy girl, doesn't blush to my offer. Taylor knows exactly, that my room means my bed. She nods, and kiss me. We are sneaking out of the living room, and quietly hurry up to the attic, to my room. We are in hurry, although this activity is not forbidden to us, and nobody could disturb us. In times like this, I curse the designer of our uniform. It has too much small buttons, to unbutton. It makes me nervous, because we could tear them apart, but it is impossible. We have to go down to the living room afterwards, and who wants to waste time to sew the uniforms instead of making love?
Taylor is not shy even during making love. She always tell me when I am not doing right for her, and I am eager to correct my errors. I want to make her happy to be with me. Kissing, caressing is not enough, she know a lot of erotic things to increase our enjoyment. I really like her riding me. She is so beautiful, as she is rocking on my manhood, that I almost doesn't feel the act itself. And she knows that I like it. After I caressing and spoiling her, she finally push me to the bed, slowly, tormentingly roll down the condom on my erection and begin to ride me. I am in heaven. Heaven! Hea...
When we return to the living room, Yvonne and Savannah are still immersed in chatting about the next competition.
"Hey, the lost ones has returned!" our coach friendly bantering us.
She doesn't take it serious, she is smiling. We all are laughing with her, and return to the competition's schedule.
We are in the middle of the discussion, when my father arrives home. He is clomping directly into the living room, and stopping at the door. He pulls his mouth to the sight of the meeting and doesn't even greet our guests. That's my father. After this, who is surprised that all our conversations are constantly quarreling? Maybe we don't have to argue with him today because he's heading for the drink cabinet. He takes out a bottle of whiskey and walks with it to his own room.
"Could you at least greet our guests?" Yvonne is the one who could not tolerate our father's rude behavior.
"Guests? I don't see any guests here. Just four assholes."
"Assholes? How could you be so jerk?" It is me, who protest against the title of an asshole.
"Jerk? We could argue about who the jerk is." My father is laughing, but this laugh is not a happy one.
"It is obviously you!" I cry at him. "How could you be so impolite to our guests?"
"Why, yet how should I deal with them?" He asks seriously.
"Like we have to behave with the girls, whom you always bring home!" Yvonne cries.
"In this case hide them into your bedrooms. Like I do."
"Why should we hide them in our bedrooms?" I ask indignantly. "They are our friends!"
"Friends. Hmm. How long it will take this time? I can't stand them, so please fasten your friendship with them, throw them away and find another friends!"
"How can you say to throw them away like some dirty rag?" I also cry with him. His behavior is already over embarrassing, he behaves rather outrageous.
"You've done it once. What are you hysterical about now? It doesn't matter to you, does it?" He asks ice coldly.
"It is matter to us! They are our dear friends!" I am yelling.
My father is throwing a framed picture to me. I don't catch that, so it is falling to the ground. The glass is braking in the frame into pieces. It looks like a spiderweb, as the bursts are running throughout the picture. At least the broken pieces covers the old picture of the three of us. Symbolic sight. The past is past.
"Ah! Vanessa again! Of course it is Vanessa!" Yvonne screams bitterly.
"She was your friend, and you threw her in a minute! Do that with new, dear friends, you know how to do!"
"Why would we do that?"
"Why did you do that?"
"Because we couldn't stand Vanessa's behavior!" Yvonne is shrieking.
"I can't stand your new, dear friends' behavior, so throw them away!"
"We are going." Coach Savannah is standing up, and pulling Taylor with her.
"Don't come back!" My father is crying after them.
Yvonne and I will escort the guests. Our faces are burning because of the behavior of my father.
"Sorry for my father's behavior. He usually is a nice man." I begin, but I can't tell them anything more positive about father. His behavior is strange since we got home. I am unable to say anything, fortunately Yvonne is more collected, than me.
"He just needs some time, before he could accept you." Yvonne tries to console the coach and Taylor. We don't want to lose them because of my father.
"Yes, he is." The coach smiles and hugs us, and the two women is leaving our house.
All we could do, is going back, although shame and indignation has raised our adrenaline levels. My father is sitting before the tv, watching some series, and drinking whiskey. He doesn't use a glass or ice, just pure, from the bottle. We both attack him.
"Why are you so rude with them?" we cry with him. He doesn't even shake.
"Why were so rude with me?" He asks back.
"Would you stop blaming us, because we decided on our summer break ourselves?"
"Would you stop blaming me, because I am unable to like your new, dear friends?"
"They are so kind, and polite girls, why don't you like them?"
"I was so kind and polite to you in your whole life, why don't you like me?"
"Because you always stand in our way!" Yvonne shriek at him.
"Do you think your behavior will earn you some respect?" I ask him.
"So you don't respect me, do you?" He asks and stares at us.
Neither of us answers. Well, it is true. We don't respect him at all.
"Then why are you surprised that I don't respect you in the slightest?" He asks, drinks a big gulp from the whiskey, and turns back to the screen.