Secrets of the Suburbs Ch. 04

Dear Readers: This is Chapter 4 of a 5 chapter story. All of the chapters are completed and will be released soon. In Chapter 1, the McCall family moved into a new neighborhood that already had three other families. Frankie McCall, an 18-year old high school student, stumbled upon his neighbors, Claudia Park and her son Kurt, having sex. In Chapter 2, Alyssa McCall walked in on another set of neighbors, Carl Hart and his daughters June and Lacy, having sex. In Chapter 3, Susan McCall watched as her final set of neighbors, James and Joy Liston and their children Bethany and Martin, had sex. If you need more than that, read the first three chapters.

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Chapter 4: The McCall Family

It was Tuesday and Susan was sitting at her kitchen table eating dinner. Her children were sitting with her, Alyssa to her left and Frankie to the right. Although none of them were really eating, they were just picking at the food. Susan wasn't offended. It wasn't as though she'd cooked it. She'd picked it up on her way home from work. The idea of cooking...or doing anything really...was too difficult. She felt like her mind was in a fog. She had felt that way for days...ever since her experience with the Listons five days earlier. She couldn't know it, of course, but she was experiencing the exact same thing that her children had been wrestling with for a long time.

Perhaps it was hardest on Frankie. It had been almost two weeks since he'd accidentally witnessed Claudia and Kurt Park, mother and son, having sex on the patio behind their home. In that time, he had barely managed to think of anything else. Sometimes he would think that he had finally mastered it, he would begin thinking about school work or watching a television show. But as soon as he let his guard down, the images of them, kissing and touching one another, played over and over again in his mind. Then he would freeze again, unable to force the thought from his mind.

Consciously, Frankie had tried to convince himself that he was appalled and disgusted by what he saw. A mother and son should never do something like that, he told himself. And, more importantly, he told himself that he believed it. But, subconsciously, there was something different going on and he knew it. He hadn't played with himself since that day, afraid of what he'd think of if he did.

But it wasn't just the taboo sex, Claudia's beautiful body doing something so wrong, that was on Frankie's mind though that was a major part of it. It was something deeper than that, and he knew it. Ever since the divorce, Frankie had felt a growing need to become and "adult" with all the connotations that that word engendered. There was no excuse for being a child when he became the only man in the house. He wasn't particularly concerned about growing up, in and of itself. Everyone had to do it eventually. No, what concerned Frankie was that there was a necessary result that came with becoming an adult: he would have to become more distant from his mother. No one could stay a mama's boy forever and he would have to go away, become a man, and leave his mother behind. But he didn't want to do that. He needed to grow up, but he needed his mother as well. And then, suddenly, Kurt and Claudia had floated into his life, showing him something he didn't believe was possible. Kurt was definitely the man of the house, in every conceivable way. But he also had his mother...in every conceivable way.

That was the thought that was crippling Frankie's mind. He realized that he had a problem and that it finally had a solution. Maybe the only possible solution. But he had to reject it, because, as he told himself over and over again, it was wrong.

If Alyssa had been dealing with her thoughts for less time than Frankie, it didn't make her anguish any more controllable. If anything, she was still in the wild swings of emotion that came with beginning to process what she'd seen. One minute, she'd feel her chest seize up and her fingers grow cold as a feeling of sheer panic overtook her. What if someone knew what she'd seen? What would they think of her because she watched? And the next second, she'd feel her nipples grown hard the insides of her legs grow wet as she pictured the sister's Lacy and June with their hands and mouths wrapped a penis belonging to their father, Carl Hart. Then she'd pinball back again, the shame redoubling over itself.

Intellectually, Alyssa told herself that these feelings were caused by her abhorrence and revulsion at what she'd witnessed. A father should never do something like that to his daughters, and they certainly shouldn't have liked it, she told herself. And more importantly, she told herself that she believed it. But, roiling under the surface, there was something else happening to her and she knew it. She hadn't pleasured herself since that day, afraid of what fantasy she would conjure if she did.

She could tell that that...something wasn't just about Carl and his daughters, their bodies joining together as one, their faces contorted with pleasure. It was a lot more than that. Ever since the divorce, Alyssa had been so...angry. She was angry with her father for being such a deadbeat that he couldn't keep his family together. She was angry at her mother for being such a...selfish bitch and being unwilling to make things work. Hell, she was angry at Frankie for seeming to be okay with everything (until recently). What's more, she knew that she was wrong to be so angry. No one had wanted this, it had just happened. She desperately wanted to be able to forgive her family, because she knew that her anger was driving them apart. But she couldn't force herself to do it, even though she knew she had to. And then, somehow, June, Lacy, and Carl had been dropped right in front of her, doing something she couldn't believe. The size of her grief was too large for words to fix and she'd always felt like there was some action she needed to take, some final piece of closure to end her grieving process and begin reconciliation. June, Lacy, and Carl seemed to have discovered it.

That was why Alyssa couldn't eat as she sat at the dining room table. She knew that she had a problem that finally had a solution. Maybe the only possible solution. But she had to reject it, because, as she told herself over and over again, it was wrong.

Perhaps as the most mature, adult person in the room, the influx of emotion should have been easier for Susan. But, if anything, it was even more disorienting to her. She'd had a lot more life experience than her children, which meant that she was more open to things and more willing to accept what she didn't understand. But that open-mindedness meant that when she did run up against something she couldn't fathom, the disorientation was all the more intense. And so Susan had spent the last four days picturing the Listons on their family room floor, their bodies hungrily devouring one another. She'd barely been able to dress herself and go to work as she tried to put the pieces of her worldview back together.

On the very surface, Susan unknowingly followed her children's lead and told herself that the Listons were an evil and disgusting family. She couldn't imagine that a family could ever do that. She should probably call someone, but who? The police? Maybe she should. That was what you did when someone broke the law and did something wrong. Susan told herself over and over again that she believed they were wrong. And that she believed herself when she said it. But, in ways that she refused to acknowledge, she knew that she had other feelings as well. She hadn't masturbated since that day, not sure what she would imagine if she did.

Of course, there was no question that the image of Joy nursing her adult children was more than just a...forbidden thrill. Susan knew that other thoughts had been triggered. Ever since the divorce, Susan had been watching her family spin apart. They hadn't spoken this entire meal. They hadn't spoken in days. Before that, they hadn't had any real conversations in weeks, maybe months. She'd tried everything she could think of, moving her children all over the state to try to figure out a way to mend them back together. But it only seemed to get worse. And she was running out of time, her kids were too old to rebuild...soon they'd be moving off to live by themselves. But then there was James, Joy, Bethany, and Martin Liston, with some sort of intense family connection. Connections she didn't quite understand. But they were growing closer as they grew older. She could tell. They had what she wanted.

That was why Susan kept staring out the dining room window blankly. She knew that she had a problem that finally had a solution. Maybe the only possible solution. But she had to reject it, because, as she told herself over and over again, it was wrong.

These thoughts, subconsciously and unknowingly overlapping and intersecting, were more than enough to occupy the entire room. There simply wasn't any space for anything else. The sounds of forks pushing cold vegetables across the family's nice plates was the only noise that broke the monotony of the meal, though no one heard them. They probably could not have told someone else how long they had sitting there, it felt like time was standing still. No one member of the McCall family even really had a strong conception of the fact that the other two were present; they had all so complete retreated within themselves. It was like the trauma they'd each experienced in the last few weeks had severed the final remaining bonds that held them together, leaving them isolated and disjointed. Paralyzed. They might've sat there all night, breaking their food into smaller and smaller pieces silently unless...

A knock at the door.

All three members of the McCall family jumped up, startled. Their heads all swung instantly to the small stairway that led down to the door. The cloudy looks in their eyes lifted and they suddenly became aware of who they were and what they were doing. Each looked around sheepishly, embarrassed and wondering if the others had noticed. But then the knock came again. They looked towards the door, trying to peer through the small window next to it.

They all instinctively feared the same thing without even really needing to think about it. Frankie feared that the Park family had somehow learned that he had been watching him, that they had come to demand...some kind of...revenge or something. He had been dreading running into one of the Parks. Even if they didn't know, he was ashamed of what he knew. Of what he would think if he saw them. He had avoided them as best he could. But maybe now they were finally here. The moment of reckoning was upon him.

Little did he know, but nearly identical thoughts were racing through his sister's mind. His mother's.

Alyssa noticed it first. It was June Hart, leaning casually against the door frame. Alyssa noticed she was dressed, but he could see the neighbor in his mind's eyes, in the backyard, sharing her father's cum with her sister. Alyssa felt her cheeks growing red, and she curled herself into a ball in her chair. Without really thinking about it, she spoke.

"Oh God, I can't talk to her. Someone else get it," she begged. Frankie was so relieved that Claudia and Kurt Park weren't standing at the door that he instantly jumped up and began walking towards the door. He crossed the distance quickly and opened the door, greeting June.

"Hello," he said, his voice sounding tight, like he'd narrowly dodged a bullet.

"Oh hey...Frank, right?" June responded.

"Frankie, actually," he responded automatically. He noticed that June was attractive, had noticed it before. But any of those kinds of thoughts felt dangerous now and he shunted it aside, not even acknowledging it.

"Oh sorry!" June said sweetly, "Well anyway, Frankie, my dad asked me to come over and drop this off," she handed him a paper, "It's an invitation to the monthly block party. Not really a block because it is just us here in this cul-de-sac. And really we don't even make invitations, we just have it the second Saturday of the month every month, unless everyone can't make it. But we thought, since you're new and all...you okay?" June was looking at Frankie strangely. He knew that his face had become white, that sweat was breaking out on his forehead.

"Oh uh, yeah, just feeling a little sick," he said woodenly. June seemed to buy it and she nodded easily.

"Well, I won't keep you then. I think my dad put all the details on the sheet. It'll be at the our house this time. If you're feeling better, you should come. It's always a good time," she said, her last few words dripping with meaning and she winked, "Make sure your mom and sister come too. Bye!" June said. And with that, she turned quickly and walked back towards his house. Frankie, numb, closed the door and climbed the stairs back to the dining room.

Susan and Alyssa had been unable to overhear the conversation. Not only because Frankie and June had been too far away, but also because they had been engrossed in a conversation of their own. Something about the way Alyssa had reacted to June's arrival had triggered something in Susan's mind. Alyssa had reacted exactly as Susan would have if Joy Liston was at the door. By no means suspecting the truth, Susan still wondered what had caused such a reaction. As Frankie had headed to the door, Susan had spoken the first direct words to her daughter in several days.

"What's wrong?" she asked simply. Alyssa didn't move, didn't look at her mother.

"Nothing," she whispered quickly. Susan instantly became concerned. Alyssa's body language suggested the opposite of her words. They might've been alienated, but Susan still loved and cared for her daughter. Maternal instincts kicked in, overcoming the walls she'd built around herself in the last few days. She was actually, in a way, relieved. For the first time in days she had a problem that wasn't about her and the Listons. Susan's concern for her daughter felt good not just because it was the right thing for a mother to do, but also because it promised a distraction from her own problems. During the last few months, she probably just would've dropped it. But not today, she decided to follow up her questions.

"Why don't you want to talk to June?" she asked.

"Why should I want to?" Alyssa shot back quickly.

"Well I wasn't expecting you to jump at the opportunity. But it seemed like you were...upset about the possibility of talking to her. I didn't even know you two had met..."

"We haven't," Alyssa lied quickly again. She felt her chest tightening. Why had she said anything? She should've just told Frankie to get the door and pretended like she was just being lazy. Christ, what could she even tell her mother?

"You seemed to know who she was. Did you fight with her or something? I won't be upset; I just wanted to understand..." Susan began.

"Mom...please!" Alyssa interrupted Susan. Inevitably, Susan's questions were bringing the memories of the Hart family into Alyssa's mind. Images and feeling and thoughts that Alyssa could not control. Her mother was poking at these ideas and Alyssa was frantically trying to keep them under wraps. She was terrified her mother would accidentally shake something loose.

"I'm sorry, it's just..."

"We've been invited to a block party next Saturday. Every family in the cul-de-sac at the Hart's house," Frankie said dully, having just returned from the door and flopping once again into his chair. His words landed with a cold, hard thud on the dining room table. All three members of the McCall family felt the air sort of leave the room.

They all knew what it meant. They were going to have to go to some sort of neighborhood picnic. They each knew that they had no plans for the next Saturday. They'd have to come up with some story to get out of it. A story would lead to questioning...there was no way out. They were going. And they each knew they'd see that family. Frankie would see the Parks, Alyssa would see the Harts, Susan would see the Listons. And maybe they would know. Or maybe they wouldn't, but all those terrible thoughts would be impossible to control. The close proximity to the cause of their turmoil would cause it to boil over. Each member of the McCall family knew that, and they feared it.

Of course, as the party was at the Hart's house, it would be the worst for Alyssa. She knew how bad it would be. Once again, her fears overcame her tongue. "Oh god, it's going to be out on their back deck!" she groaned, covering her hands with her face. She could see them, curled up together post-coitus on the deck chair. Would she be invited to sit in that chair? She shuddered, and her nipples ached.

"Why is that a problem?" Susan asked, as her thoughts momentarily returned to Alyssa and the line of questioning she'd abandoned when Frankie had inadvertently lobbed his threat.

For the first time since Susan had begun questioning her, hell for the first time in days, Alyssa looked over at her mother. Her first instinct, again, was to simply deny everything. She didn't even really care if it didn't make sense. Her mother couldn't force anything out of her. But she saw the concern and the fear in her mother's eyes. It made her realize that vast waves of tension were rippling through the room. She knew that it was only going to get worse. She figured that she was the cause of all of it. Her fears and her anxieties were only going to build and build in the coming days as the block party approached.

What's more, her mother's concern reminded her of something else. That there had been a time, not that long ago, that she'd been able to go to her mother with a problem. It didn't matter how big that problem was. She'd been able to take it to her mother. At one point in her life, Alyssa's mother had been able to solve all her problems. As she'd grown older, Susan had simply helped Alyssa solve her own problems. And, for the first time since the divorce, Alyssa realized she had a problem big enough that she needed help. She couldn't figure out what she was supposed to do on her own. She knew the dangers that came with speaking, knowing what she was thinking down deep inside. But the delicate balance between her need to solve her problem and the fears that kept her in check had fatally titled. Her need for her mother's help and her dread of the horrible meeting at the Hart's home had pushed her over the edge. And so, after a long, desperate, silent minute, Alyssa once again began to speak.

"Mom," she said, her throat feeling raw and her stomach tight, "I need to tell you something."

And then it started to pour out of her. A flood. She had probably intended to give as little information as humanly possible, it was so terrible to even think about it. But as soon as she began, it was like the internal filter in her mind was completely eliminated. No, it was overwhelmed. The sudden, overpowering need to get her story out broke down every barrier, she couldn't control herself. She just needed to tell her mother what happened. Decency and tact took too much time and effort, everything inside of Alyssa was focused so completely on getting the truth out that there wasn't a place for anything else. It didn't matter that her brother was in the room. It didn't matter that she was dreadfully embarrassed to be thinking about it. It didn't even matter that she was so rushed she couldn't think of the anatomically correct words and instead found herself saying "cock" and "pussy" and "cum" directly to her mother's face. Days and days of pent up anxiety had burst the dam, and Alyssa simply couldn't keep herself from speaking.

But she didn't get very far. After only a very short time of relating what she'd seen on the Hart's back deck, her mother was suddenly interrupting her. Her brother was too. For one terrifying moment, Alyssa thought that they were understanding what she'd seen and judging her for it.; somehow holding her responsible for what the Hart family had done. Or that they recognized the feelings that their actions had stirred deep inside of her mind. She felt that they could sense the arousal that stirred just below the surface of her disgust.