In this more conversational third chapter, Iris the oldest sister has her sixteenth birthday, and Desmond tries to make it a little more memorable for her. Instead, she makes it special for him.
If it isn't totally obvious, my affection for the possum family is starting to mirror Desmond's. You can expect more of this series.
Shoutout to my sis Zeiro for doing this cover art as a thumbnail. If he only knew what it was actually being used for... ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
And of course thanks to rmaster for letting me write and develop his possum family for him! They're fun, adorable characters.
Desmond and writing (C) me
Iris, Daisy, Lily and Willow (C) \r\n\t\t\t\t\t
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Cover art by \r\n\t\t\t\t\t
| \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t.gif "Zeiro") \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t | \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tZeiro\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t | \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
Daisy's Secret Friend Part III
Written by Ceeb
Written by Ceeb
The possum with the pink hair ripped the wrapping off of her gift. The smile on her face was genuine. She was enjoying her party for what it was because she was mature in the way most impoverished kids were. She knew how expensive even the basic necessities were and she appreciated the effort her beleaguered mother, Willow, put in.
A disposable camera flashed and captured the moment when she pulled the ripped paper away from her new book. And it was indeed brand new, not a used and dogeared thing like she usually read: this was hardcover, pristine, a horror novel from an author she liked.
"Thanks, mom," Iris said. She pecked a kiss on mom's cheek and mom pecked one back.
"You're welcome, hon. I'm sorry I couldn't get more for you, but..."
"Um, it's fine, mom. Really." Iris forced a smile. Willow's wistful expression was the last thing Iris wanted to see. She looked around the small yard and felt a sense of detachment from the party going on. It wasn't much of a party to begin with, just a little trailer park gathering. Cold beer for the adults, somebody was grilling burgers and bratwurst, and the smallest kids were splashing in an inflatable kiddie pool, her youngest sister Daisy among them. Close by, supervising the little ones, was babysitter turned family friend, Desmond. He caught Iris' gaze and threw a wave and a smile her way. Iris blushed and waved back.
"...cake now, Iris?"
"Huh?" Iris, sixteen as of that day, looked up at her mother. "Uh, cake. Sure, yeah."
Willow smiled. "I know. Parties aren't really your thing. But Daisy and Lily are enjoying it, at least."
Now Iris glanced around to try and find Lily. It didn't take her long: Lily, twelve years of age, had the habit of dyeing her hair a grassy green color to differentiate herself from her sisters and mother, all of whom shared the same chocolate-brown hair. Iris herself preferred to dye it pink; Daisy wasn't old enough to care yet.
Lily was playing a game of tic-tac-toe with a chubby little pig girl, both of them tossing sandbags to try and flip the crosses and circles around. Iris wasn't sure what side her sister was on, but there were two crosses in a row at the bottom.
Around the yard there were other kids from around the trailer park playing. Zooming around playing tag, zig-zagging around Willow's vegetable and herb garden, cutting around the adults and other kids to make up for the tiny size of the yard. Iris felt distant to all of it. Her thoughts were on the older boy from a few years ago. She didn't know his name. Didn't want to. She thought he would come and hurt her again. She would have deserved it.
"Who wants cake?" Willow called out, ending Iris' reverie. Dozens of little hands came up. Iris looked over and saw Desmond helping the smallest kids get over the edge of the inflatable pool safely. In the end he doted on Daisy: he picked her up with an arm under her rump and her arms around his neck. He seemed not to care that his clothes were soaked. He carried her over to the cake while dripping-wet cubs and pups and kittens darted around him.
The mother possum smiled at the sight of Daisy in Desmond's arms. Iris herself thought it was cute. He had unnerved her at first, but his care seemed genuine. He was unlike the other boy. She felt safe around him, insofar that she could feel safe around any male.
"Need a big ol' piece of cake for this chubby girl," Desmond said, bouncing Daisy on his arm.
Daisy giggled wildly. The seven-year-old swatted at his muzzle. "Not chubby!"
Desmond grinned. Daisy grinned back. "Totally chubby. Chubby chubster."
The young possum groaned and wriggled in his arms, and Desmond put her down. "Not chubby," she said again, tartly.
Desmond tickled her belly and she shrieked laughter, then darted around her mother and peeked at him from behind her. She was grinning broadly.
The foxcoon that was Desmond looked at Iris. "Happy birthday," he said mildly. "You doing okay?"
Iris shrugged her shoulders. "Guess so."
He nodded. Reached out, rubbed her shoulder. "Sorry I didn't get you something. I wasn't sure what you'd like."
The possum shrugged again. "It's fine." She hefted the big hardcover book. "Mom got me this. I'm good."
Desmond glanced at the book and smiled. He nodded at her. "All right."
Cake went around for everybody. The kids were served first, then the adults. Desmond took a small slice. Iris got a big one with a sugary crunchy candy on it - a big, yellow flower, one of several which framed "Sweet 16 Iris" on the cake in icing - and ate most of it before her appetite went.
Gradually the party petered out. The kids rose and then fell on a sugar buzz and gradually became lethargic. Before long Desmond was hefting Daisy in her little blue bathing suit again, but now she was dozing against him.
Willow said to Desmond, "Daisy's so relaxed around you. How do you do it?"
Desmond smiled. "Well, I always wanted a baby sister, I guess. Kids just seem to love me." He bounced Daisy slightly. "Ask Lily and Iris, Daisy just seems to light up when she sees me."
The mother possum smiled. "Um, would you take her in, and maybe help her dry off? I need to..." She gestured at the messy yard.
"No, sure, it's no problem," Desmond said, still smiling. He went inside with Daisy and took her into the restroom. Still somewhat lucid, she stirred enough that she cooperated for her toweling. He thought of invoking his Secret Friend privileges - and touching her little, soft body so much had made him hard - but there was always the chance someone might stagger into the bathroom to unleash a Budweiser piss. He settled for kissing the possum on the lips, flitting his tongue into her maw. He tasted a hint of white cake in her maw.
"Secret Friends?" Desmond whispered.
The possum cupped a little, soft hand around his groin. Desmond shuddered.
"Secret Friends," Daisy concurred, smiling.
Desmond smiled back. "Not right now, sweetheart," he cooed, brushing her hand away, but he then held it in his own. "I'm going to do something for your sister. Okay? But we're still Secret Friends."
"Oka-a-ay," Daisy said, sighing.
He pecked her forehead. "Let's get you changed into some regular clothes."
With Daisy out of her swimsuit and put down for a nap, and with his small erection gone, Desmond went back outside. He helped clean up after the party while most of the guests milled around and started to leave. He picked up trash; he put the big tic-tac-toe game in the shed; he upended the kiddie pool and opened the air valve on the side.
Around sunset the yard was clean once again. Desmond followed Willow inside. He was the only guest who stuck around after the party. Lily, not quite crashing on sugar, nevertheless went into the room she shared with Iris. Iris herself was sitting on her bed, reading her new book. She already had a good chunk of it knocked down.
"Would you care for another piece of cake, Desmond?" Willow asked.
"Oh, no thanks. Too much of it hurts my teeth." He smiled at her. "Uh, I would take a glass of water, though..."
"Of course," she said.
Desmond sipped his ice water. After draining nearly the entire glass, he leaned close to the mother possum, whose daughters resembled her in various stages of maturity. The fact that he had molested all three of them to varying degrees made Desmond feel as if he knew Willow intimately as well. But still the older woman bore little interest for him.
He said quietly, "I was thinking of taking Iris out to the arcade, maybe to a movie. The party was nice, but she's not a little kid, you know?"
She nodded. "I know... I think that would be lovely. You don't mind?"
Desmond smiled. "Not at all. Your kids are great. They're total angels when I watch them, I'd love to try and make her birthday better."
Willow nodded again. She took Desmond's empty glass and the smoothed cubes clinked around. "I really appreciate your help, Desmond." She leaned close and kissed him on the cheek. She lingered close to him, and although he understood what she was after, he feigned ignorance with a pronounced double blink.
"Um. You're a sweet young man," she said, toying with the glass, feeling over the subtle crenelations with her fingers and claws. The possum struggled to meet Desmond's gaze when she murmured, "I've been thinking of sending the girls to visit their aunt. Maybe this weekend."
Desmond gained a hint of a grin, one he hoped was shy and awkward. "Oh, yeah, uh-, I guess you could use some time alone, huh?"
She toyed with the glass a moment longer and glanced to her right at the empty living room. The door to the bedroom she and Daisy shared was closed; the door to the domain of Lily and Iris wide open but perpendicular to the kitchen. She set down the glass and leaned into his personal space. "You know, ah, I spend a lot of time alone at work, just doing the books... maybe you could come this weekend and," she swallowed, looked at him, hoped she wasn't being too pathetic, "keep me company...?"
The foxcoon faked surprise. He chuckled bashfully. "Oh, geez-, um. I really don't know if you'd-, I mean-, I babysit for you, is that really appropriate?"
Willow, to Desmond's surprise, didn't appear dejected. But her needfulness was palpable, and Desmond sensed she was scared to be alone. He felt a bit of pity for her. It was then that she cupped his paw in her hand and slid it under her blouse. For a moment he hesitated, then his paw closed around one of her breasts, a subtle mound, only barely larger than those on Iris' pubescent body. She was, in fact, barely more buxom than Lily, with mosquito bite tits just sprouting. Desmond wondered why she even bothered with a bra.
"Are you okay with this?" he asked her, shyness in his voice. "I don't-, I don't want to do anything you don't want..."
She shivered, smiled. "I want this," she whispered, feeling lust and even a bit of love for this sweet, kind fox who cared so deeply for her children. She had a brief, wild idea: finding herself betrothed to a boy half her age, knowing he'd love her children the way she did. It made her blush madly and her loins throbbed.
She looked to her right, checking the doors again. Her warm and fleshy palm cupped his groin where his small but stiff erection pulsed. His size brought her no pause.
Desmond's cock ached in her hand. Thinking of the way his penis had been in her youngest daughter's hands and mouth with Willow none the wiser delighted him.
He leaned in, touched his lips to hers in a tepid kiss, but the creak of bedsprings in the girls' bedroom startled them both. Like masturbating teens they quickly pulled away their hands and composed themselves but couldn't hide their blushes.
Lily came out, gave them both a glance, and wordlessly walked to the fridge.
As Lily walked off with a chilled can of cream soda, Desmond and the mother possum exchanged looks. "I'd better get going," he said, somewhat flustered.
"Right, yes," she chuckled, sounding nervous and frazzled. And, Desmond thought, horny. Maybe there was something to the mother possum. She wasn't much of a MILF but she looked enough like her daughters for it to work. He decided, then and there, that he would have her too. Partly for affection, as she was the template his beloved Daisy came from; but also for the sport of it.
"And, Desmond. Thank you so much. The girls really seem to adore you. It's been so... good to have a babysitter who cares. I'm so busy, I feel awful leaving them alone so much. And, god," she leaned close and lowered her voice, "thank you for getting Iris that book, thirty dollars probably doesn't seem like a lot to someone like you, but, you were such a help. I try to be a good mother, but-"
The foxcoon leaned close and he silenced her prattling with a gentle, brief kiss. He smiled the nervous smile of a bashful virgin, then asked her quietly, "Do you mind me kissing you?"
Willow, smiling back, cheeks reddened and warm, shook her head. "I don't mind."
Desmond grinned. Willow was growing on him, but her daughters were still what he wanted the most. He touched her hand, held it briefly, and then left her side.
He went into the bedroom and, from the doorway, peered at Iris. The pink-haired possum looked up at him. For a moment she smiled warmly at him. Then she forced it off her snout, tried to look the part of the gloomy teen again. "Sup?" she asked.
"Hey, Iris, put a bookmark in that and let's go."
She blinked. "Go where?"
"Yeah, where?" Lily asked.
"Quiet, dingus, he's talking to me," Iris snapped.
"You be quiet, dingus," Lily said, and stuck out her tongue.
Desmond snickered. "We're just gonna go play around. You ever been to the arcade?"
"I wanna go," Lily interrupted. Iris rolled her eyes.
Desmond squatted beside Lily's bed and said with as much diplomatic charm as he could muster, "It's your sister's birthday, hon. Let her enjoy herself." Lily huffed and turned away; she tossed her Etch-A-Sketch down and destroyed the image she was working on. "Don't be like that. When your birthday comes, I'll take you wherever you like. Ever ridden a pony? Want to go get your hair done? We'll do it."
Lily slowly turned back to him. She was trying to pout but the thought of either a pony or a makeover seemed to be alluring. "Really?" she asked in a smallish voice.
"Really," Desmond affirmed. He winked at her and smiled. "Same goes for Daisy. You're all little dinguses but I love you."
Lily started to giggle at that. Even Iris snickered. "Okay. Fine! But I'm gonna remember you said this!"
"You better," he said in a playfully stern voice. He prodded her belly, tickled her around the navel; he felt little shame in doing so. He had done worse when she had been unaware. She giggled and kicked at him.
Desmond stood up and smoothed out his shirt. "Well, Iris, we going?"
The pink-haired possum was blushing. She stuck in her bookmark - a wrinkled piece of receipt paper long since faded - and set her new book aside. "Yeah," she said. "Let's go."
Iris looked out the windows of Desmond's car, watched as the trailer park thinned out and ended, the view becoming dull scrubland. The road was paved but pocked with potholes. When the thin traffic allowed, Desmond swerved to avoid them.
For a while there was just the rumble of the car's tires and the low thrum of the engine. Then Desmond said, "So, sixteen now, huh? You gonna learn to drive?"
The possum shot him an ironic smirk. "In what car? My mom walks to and from the bus stop."
Desmond eyed her sidelong. "How about in this one?"
Iris shrugged. "Not like it matters. I'll never have a car."
Desmond stopped at a four-way intersection; there were no other cars in sight. As he turned left, he said, "You could still learn. I wouldn't mind teaching you." He glanced at her and smiled. "You, uh, could get a job. Help your mom out, maybe. It's up to you, I guess."
"Mm," Iris murmured. She leaned back in the seat and sighed. "So, um, where are we going exactly?"
"I was thinking we get some dinner first. All I had was a slice of cake."
"Me too," Iris admitted. "Um, whatever you want to get, that's fine."
The scrubland started to thin out and they passed tracts of homes, small neighborhoods surrounded by trees. Fading, reddening sunlight filtered through the leaves and branches, spotty on the road. Desmond said, "Hey, it's your birthday and I'm buying, what do you really want, hon?"
Iris didn't answer at first. When he stopped at a stoplight, Desmond looked at her and smiled. "Come o-o-on, no opinion at all?"
Iris grinned sheepishly. "You're gonna laugh at me if I tell you what I want."
"Oh, try me."
Iris did. Desmond didn't laugh at her, but he did smile. "No problem," he said.
The foxcoon sat down in a booth with the possum. Their pizza would be ready soon, the girl behind the counter had said. Iris, sitting between Desmond and the wall, grinned up at him. "I haven't been here since I was, like, Daisy's age. Younger, I think."
The pizzeria was busy all around with children darting from machine to machine, playing video games and skee-ball, throwing their tokens away at rigged claw machines. An animatronic band of animals churned out a surprisingly catchy rock tune from the stage toward the rear of the place; Desmond caught Iris looking over at them.
"We could've eaten closer to the stage if you wanted," he said slyly.
Iris blushed and hid her face. "No! God no. Those things scared the heck out of me when I was a kid," she huffed.
Desmond grinned. "Sounds like they still do." He looked at the stage and sighed. "God, this place hasn't changed much since I worked here. The robots are definitely less creepy, but that's not saying much."
The possum snickered. "You worked here? Oh my god, what a dork."
He eyed her, pouting his lip out in an exaggerated show of indignity. "Who you calling dork, dingus?"
Before the insults could go further, a cheerful marten in a pizzeria uniform strutted to the table with a small pepperoni pizza and two glasses of soda - one root beer, one Dr. Pepper. Desmond and Iris both thanked her.
Each table had a few paper plates and drink coasters against the wall. Desmond set down a pair of plates and coasters, and Iris pulled a steamy, gooey slice off of the pizza. She bit into it immediately and seemed to be in bliss; she had another bite before she set it down, and then she wiped her fingers on a brown napkin, leaving it dappled with grease.
"So-o-o good," she sighed. "This place has the best pizza."
Desmond started on his own slice. He thought it was just so-so, but several years working there had soured his opinion of the place in general.
As if she could tell what he was thinking, Iris asked him, "What did you do here, anyway?"
The fox chuckled. "Jeez. Want to rip open my wounds, huh?"
"No, no! I didn't mean-, I'm just trying to be polite, god, I'm sorry," Iris said, excitedly at first, then trailing towards dull nervousness.
Desmond frowned. "Iris, honey, you need to talk about something?"
For a moment her mouth hung open and her eyes seemed to see through him. The look unnerved him but he didn't prompt her. After several seconds, she shook her head, short pink hair bobbing. She went back to her pizza and had another bite, after which she said, "No. I don't."
"All right." Desmond also ate a bit more, and then had a long drink of his soda. He finally said, "I worked on the animatronics sometimes. I don't know if they have the same chassis, but the old ones would break down if you looked at them funny." He gazed over at the stage, his eyes fixing on the fox with the gag eyepatch flopping up and down while its jaws clapped. Looking back at Iris, he held out his arm to her, and he spread apart the fur along his forearm. "One of them bit me hard enough I needed stitches. Some little shit thought the fox needed to eat some pizza. I reached in for it. Apparently he was still powered up."
Iris winced. "That's awful!" She cupped his arm and stroked it though the scar was faded and pink, hard to see under the black fur. Almost immediately she realized what she was doing, and she blushed and looked away. She quickly took her hands off him. "Um. S-sorry."
Desmond blushed with her, but he also laughed. "That's okay, Iris," he said. "You're the first person to care. Nobody here did. I think getting gnawed on by the robots is a rite of passage." He nudged her shoulder playfully. "Pizza's getting cold. Eat."
They both did, putting away half the pizza plus half a slice more for Iris. "You can take the rest home, they'll give you a box for it," Desmond said easily. "Your sisters will like it, I imagine."
"Probably, yeah," Iris said, leaning back in the booth. She played with her glass, swirling the smoothed cubes around the bottom. "Um... did you do anything else here?"
Desmond shrugged. "Little bit of everything. Made pizzas, kicked the arcade machines when they stopped working, I swept floors, scraped gum off the bottom of the tables." He sighed heavily. "And, I-, well, I dressed up as the goddamn bear."
Iris shrieked girlishly. "You did!?" she cried, leaning forward.
"Yes, I did," Desmond peevishly said, but he was grinning. "Look, everyone here does it sooner or later, okay? Don't make a big deal out of it."
"But that's funny," the possum squealed. "You had to put on a costume!"
Desmond prodded her with a finger. "I needed the money! This was before I learned I could babysit little brats like you."
Iris stuck out her tongue, but then she started giggling. Desmond chuckled but sighed, and he shook his head. "It's so easy to laugh, huh? You're lucky it's your birthday."
Suddenly she became serious, but in a prissy way. "Oh, am I? And what if it wasn't?"
The foxcoon leaned close. "Probably blackmail you, tell your sisters you're a dork who likes to eat-, well, here."
Iris grinned. "They're gonna see the pizza box anyway, try harder."
Desmond grinned back. "All right, fine. You win this round."
The possum glanced around for prying eyes, then pecked a kiss on his lips. It was brief, shallow, and she recoiled from it as if she'd licked a 9-volt battery.
Desmond's grin faltered and he straightened up. "Iris..."
"Um, don't-, don't read too much into that, okay? You're just nice."
"Yeah, and if you do that and somebody sees it, I'll be nice in prison," he said, somewhat slyly. "So take it easy."
"I'm sorry," she sighed.
Desmond sat back and had to work hard to keep the smile off his face. He hadn't even been trying to seduce Iris. He let a portion of his smile show through, but it was subtle, tempered. "You want to play some arcade games?"
"Not really," Iris admitted. "Um... you think we could just go home?"
He turned in his seat a bit to better face her. He tilted his head, and his thick braid slid over his shoulder and in front of his chest. "You sure? I thought we were gonna go catch a movie."
The possum's body language had gone cold, even nervous. She looked like she might cry but didn't. "I'm sure. I kinda want to just go home and read my book."
Desmond nodded softly. "Okay, sweetie. Your call. I'm gonna go get us something to put the pizza in, you just chill, okay?"
Desmond sauntered off. A few moments later, an employee in costume lumbered by. The bear, his eyes bright and his smile wide. Iris imagined Desmond in the stuffy, ugly costume and managed a tiny grin.
The drive home was quiet. Desmond asked her once if she wanted the radio on and she politely declined. There was a hint of chill to the air and he turned the heater on at its lowest setting. Iris relaxed against the seat and sighed.
Around the time that the scrubland was coming in thick, Iris gazed across the now dark, fully empty road and made her decision. She unbuckled her seatbelt. Desmond glanced over when he heard the click.
"Hey, even out here, better safe than sorry."
"Pull over, Desmond," she said firmly. "Just-, just pull over, turn the car off."
Inside Desmond was thrilled, but outwardly he was calm, even resigned. He moved the column up to park, turned off the engine, and sat back in his seat. All was dark, but Desmond's night eyes adjusted soon enough. Iris leaned on him. Kissed him more firmly and assuredly than she had in the pizzeria. Her lips were soft and young, but in a different way than Daisy's. How she used them was more adult, yet still childish. She pawed over his body, over his scarred arm, over his taut stomach.
"Desmond, um-," she nuzzled him and shivered, "I like you, Desmond... like, a lot. You're so sweet to me and my sisters. And every guy-, every guy my age is a fucking jerk."
"Iris," he murmured, touching her shoulder, a safe spot. "Iris, I'm too old for you, sweetheart. And not all the guys your age are bad."
Her eyes glazed. She whimpered, "Enough of them are. Trust me." Kissed him while a few tears dribbled down her cheeks. She spoke to him softly, "Let me-, let me have this. I want to do something for you, okay?"
The foxcoon bit his lip. "Iris..." But he relaxed in his seat, and after a moment he undid his seatbelt. Iris rightly took it as her cue. Rocking back on her knees, she fumbled with his fly. Her hands were shaky as if numb. Desmond helped her, opened the button and left her the easier task of tugging the zipper.
"Iris, I like you just fine," he murmured. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to."
Iris glimpsed the pasty white of his briefs. She thought of the other boy. Ratty clothes. Enormous, hateful phallus with a knot at its bottom. She strummed the small root of Desmond's penis, hard despite his caution. Its size comforted her, promised gentleness. She nodded. "I want to."
As she pulled down his briefs, a thousand wild thoughts flashed through her pubescent mind. Raging thoughts, wild and horrible and lustful. Her eyes fixed on the small, stiff shape of Desmond's penis and she found herself again loving it for its size, appreciating it for its gentleness. No flourish of knotflesh, no vulgar scent. It was a penis she could accept inside of her. But not here. Not in a car.
Iris touched her lips to his penis. Paid out an inch of tongue and tasted it. Softly Desmond shivered; the sound electrified her. She took him into her maw. The other, the boy her age, he had pulled her head down. That had been the second time. She struggled now to shut out the phantom pain of his cock stabbing against her throat. Desmond would never; anybody who Daisy loved so dearly couldn't be so evil.
He fit comfortably in her mouth and she suckled him with pleasure. Softly she moaned as she worked his small, pink penis. Unlike before, now she savored the squirts that came, the precum. She fumbled with her hands. Ordinarily she would be pushing against him, struggling pointlessly. And so she felt for his arm, stroked over his scar, thought it was weirdly enticing. Then his palm caught hers. Fingers interlaced. The foxcoon breathed, "Iris..."
Her tail swished, curled. Her suckles filled the still, cooling air of the car. Soon her free hand stole under his briefs and she cupped the slight curve of his scrotum. This too seemed perfectly sized, how it fit in her hand with nothing spilling out. She bobbed her head slowly, moving as the other boy had shown her, but now she wanted to do it. In her panties was a very familiar wetness, but she refrained from touching. She felt as if to pleasure herself was to make the time less special for Desmond.
Now his paw slid over her back, moving slowly. At first she arched against it, almost feline. His fingers were soft, claws blunt little prickles on her skin. Then he cupped her behind, fingers going under her skirt, and her body language grew cold. She pulled away from him, and at once he took the hint and slid his paw free of her. And Iris, after a moment, loosened her tense body. She squeezed his still held paw.
Desmond licked his lips, sighed. He was smiling broadly, proud of himself, and why shouldn't he be? Daisy was his devoted Secret Friend. Iris was in love with him - intimately so. Willow was soon to be his. All that left was little Lily, but even if he couldn't have his way with her, three-quarters of the family seemed like a fair prize. He whispered to her, putting tentative passion in his voice, "I'm close, sweetheart."
"Mm," Iris murmured. She was blushing, wet, her thoughts a maelstrom of taboo and pleasure and fear, but she was positive that she loved Desmond. She fondled his scrotum. She mouthed his penis and waited for the sticky mess, that always overpowering slop that the other boy put inside of her.
With a hiss and moan, Desmond softly jerked his hips and came. Thick ropes of semen jetted into her maw, but their number was few. His flavor was mild; Iris felt the sting of salt but found pleasure in taking his seed. She swallowed it without letting it linger on the tongue, and for a moment she held his penis in her mouth, drinking down what was left of his climax, holding his balls which had gone tight with release.
As she finally unmouthed him, she felt calm, the thoughts only background noise. She knelt close to Desmond, the emergency brake under her legs. She kissed him tentatively and finally he kissed her back. Her tongue slid past his lips, brushed across his teeth and his tongue. He allowed her the intimacy, and then he softly urged her back.
"Did you-, did you like that?" she asked, sounding at once exulted and shy.
He smiled, nodded. "It was good. Thank you."
She smiled back at him. Nuzzled him. "I'd-, um, I'd really love if we could... if..."
Desmond gently helped her. "If we could do this again sometime?"
Iris nodded.
Desmond winked at her. "I think so."
The girl giggled nervously. "Um... let's go home."
Soon they were in the driveway. He considered simply dropping Iris off, but it was only nine o'clock on a Saturday. Daisy, at least, would be heartbroken if she didn't see him again. He went in with Iris, the possum carrying her box of pizza. A cartoon rendering of the pirate fox grinned roguishly on its top.
Willow was in the living room, watching TV by herself. She looked up, smiled, then tilted her head. "Home so soon?"
Iris glanced at Desmond for help. He patted her shoulder. "We tried to see a movie but the theater was jam-packed. Typical Saturday night. So we played some arcade games, ate some pizza, and came home."
"We had fun," Iris said, smiling at her mother. "Pizza?" she asked, holding the box out.
"That's okay, hon, I made hamburgers." She smiled at Desmond. "Thanks so much for-, well, everything." She laughed. "Gosh, I guess I'm saying that to you a lot today."
Desmond gave Iris a friendly one-armed squeeze, then let her go. "It's fine. I'm starting to feel liked around here, anyway." He glanced at the bedroom door. "Daisy asleep, I take it?"
Willow smiled somewhat sadly. "I'm afraid so... she went right to bed after her burger. I think, well, she was a little upset."
Desmond sighed. "I know, I took Iris out but not her. I'll make it up to her."
Iris had a nibble of the cold pizza. She said, "Mom, why don't you go tell her Desmond's here anyway? Otherwise she's gonna be all grumpy that Desmond just ignored her."
"Shush, you," Desmond said, grinning at Iris.
Willow relented, though. She nodded and walked to the bedroom, slipped into the dark. In that moment Iris was against Desmond. She kissed him briskly, needfully. "I love you," she whispered. "I-, um, I want to see you again... alone..."
And from the doorway parallel to the wall, just peeking, pouting, face cutely near tears, Lily watched as Iris kissed Desmond. Watched Desmond squeeze her and kiss her back. She disappeared back into her room and she cried softly into her pillow. Nobody had any use for the middle girl.
"Desmond!" Daisy cried, running through the living room, a pink bolt in her hand-me-down pajamas. Desmond squatted like an umpire and he caught her, wrapped her up in his arms. She peppered giddy little-girl kisses on his face and he peppered them back. "Desmond!" she said again, delirious with joy and sleepiness.
"Daisy!" Desmond cried back, laughing. "You're not mad at me?"
"Nope!" Nuzzling him now, squeezing him fast.
Desmond grinned up at Iris, rolled his eyes as if to say kids, huh? He stroked her soft brown hair, pecked her on the crown. "It's nice to see you too, kiddo."
Suddenly Desmond stood, hoisting Daisy by her rump. She held onto his neck and grinned at him, touched her nose to his. "Time for you to go back to bed, you little varmint."
"Bed," Daisy scoffed. "Bed is dumb. I want to play."
Willow said soothingly, "Daisy, honey, you played all day long."
"Yeah, but-, but-," she began to whine. "Wanna play with Desmond."
For a moment Desmond stood with Daisy, rocking her gently, shushing her, kissing her pretty little face. After a few seconds he asked Willow, "You, uh... you want me to just take her to my place tonight? I don't really mind."
Iris smiled and leaned on the counter. Desmond's way with Daisy, once unnerving, had since become heartwarming to her. But she said nothing.
Willow considered it for a moment. Daisy chimed in, "Ple-e-ease? Please, mommy?"
"Yeah, mommy, ple-e-ease?" Desmond echoed in his best, most nasal impression of Daisy. The little possum giggled and swatted at his muzzle. Desmond playfully growled and nipped her fingers.
The mother possum relented again. She smiled, and then she sighed, "Daisy, be good, okay? Don't keep Desmond up all night." She shook her head. "I'll go grab some extra clothes."
"Looks like you're coming with me, Daisy," Desmond said, grinning. "Sleepover!"
"Sleepover!" Daisy cried.
Lily, listening in the bedroom, sniffled into her pillow. By the time Iris came to bed some hours later, Lily had cried herself to sleep, mom was passed out after a long day, and Daisy was off with Desmond. There was no use at all for the middle sister.