Lana Loud stood happily at the head of a long, carpeted aisle flanked by pews made of gleaming oak and festooned with flowers and white crepe. Warm sunlight streamed through a multicolored stained glass window depicting a scene from the Bible and bathed the world in rainbow glow. A reverent hush lay over the room and a sense of expectancy hung in the still air. Lana scanned the pews, seeing everyone she had ever known, all here to share in the joy of her big day. There was Skippy (ew, who invited him?), Clyde, Clyde's dads, the entire Casagrande family, Flip, Mr. Grouse, Thicc QT, Pop-Pop, a thousand others faces that she knew but could not name. They were kids she had met briefly at the beach for a single day of play, old women and men she had passed on the street - everyone, everyone was here and Lana wouldn't have it any other way. She beamed with happiness and she wanted everyone to see.
Like her sister Lynn, Lana was a proud girl and maybe, just maybe, a little bit of a show off. When she had something amazing, she wanted everyone to know it. If she had a fresh new pair of workboots, she would make an excuse to wear them and wait for people to notice. If they didn't, she would roll up her cuff, stick her foot out, and drop hints. This was like that only a thousand times better. She had had some pretty great things in her life but none were so great as this. She had been glowing for months and she walked around on a cloud of fairy dust. She had never been one to care about her appearance - looks are really unimportant - but she had been feeling beautiful a lot lately, and she discovered that she kind of liked it.
Who would have thought, huh? Her? Being beautiful? She never would have believed it. Lola, her twin, had always been the girly, beautiful one and Lana had always rolled her eyes at it. Lana didn't make a conscious effort to be unlike her sister, but she naturally was; where Lola was frilly, Lana would iron; while Lola liked soft plushy things, Lana liked hard things - like tools and changing Vanzilla's oil. Lola would shriek and lose her mind if she broke a nail, Lana's hands were cracked and calloused. Lola took long, hot bubble baths full of oils, bath salts, and soap - Lana sprayed herself off with the garden hose and occasionally took a quick shower, staying in only long enough to wash and clean her most important parts. Lola did her make-up and fussed over her hair, Lana went au naturale and covered her hair with a hat if it looked bad, which it usually kind of did.
Not that she cared. Why would she care what other people thought of her? She didn't need the praise and validation of others the way Lola did. She would show up to a party in pajama pants and a T-shirt and not care if the snobby little stuck-up bitches from Oak Heights looked at her funny. They were nobody to her. So what if they thought she was a slob or something? Fuck them.
That had been her entire life's philosophy up until she met Anthony, then a curious thing happened.
She started to care. She cared how she looked and smelled, she cared about not being dirty and gross. She wanted to be beautiful to him.
And she was. Even when she was dirty, even when she was covered in sweat and motor oil, even when her clothes were dirty and rumpled. He looked at her like she was the most beautiful girl in the world and it made her feel indescribably good. It was a warm, fuzzy, tingly sensation that started in the tips of her toes and bubbled up into her chest like fizz in a glass of soda. She didn't know what she had done to get so lucky, but fate, God, or whatever had seen fit to smile on her and give her the most amazing and precious gift. Anthony was everything she had ever hoped for and a bunch of things that she didn't know she wanted until she had them, like trying a new food you have never heard of and loving it.
Not only was she lucky to have him, she was lucky to have beaten out that little skank Lola. When they first met Anthony, they were both into him and they competed hard to win him. They decided to share him so that things didn't get too bloody but that didn't last long. Lola got jealous and they got into huge clawing, spitting cat fights. Lola was extra salty because Anthony liked her, Lana, better, and Lola just couldn't handle that rejection. She wound up going crazy and being sent to an asylum where she spent her days locked in a padded room and wearing a straight jacket.
Hahaha.
Serves you right, Ho-La.
The sound of organ music woke Lana from her reprieve. Her father came up and stood next to her. His hair was gray and his face wrinkled. He wore a suit with a loud red bowtie. Lana herself was clad in a frilly white dress with a long trane and her face was covered by a sheer veil. She recognized the song as Here Comes the Bride and her heart swelled with joy.
Dad threaded his arm through hers and they made their way down the aisle. A lump of emotion filled her throat and her eyes brimmed with hot tears. Anthony stood at the altar and watched her come with a happy smile. Groomsmen flanked him to one side and bridesmaids to the other. The men wore suits and ties and the women wore dresses. Lincoln, who had come out as gay three years ago, wore a dress and make up.
Something about that struck her as odd.
Lincoln wasn't gay.
At the altar, the priest read from a leather bound book, the whole "Do you take this man/woman" act. Lana wished he would hurry up so that she could be married to Anthony already.
Finally, at long last, he looked at Lana. "Lana, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded -"
"Yes," she snapped, "I wouldn't be here if I wasn't."
Not missing a beat, the priest turned to Anthony. "Anthony, do you take -"
"I do."
The priest snapped his Bible closed and held his hands up like Christ hanging from the cross. "By the holy power invested in me, I pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."
Anthony smiled and lifted Lana's veil. They tilted their heads and brushed their lips together. Anthony flicked his tongue out and Lana swirled hers around it, her pussy beginning to spit and hiss like a pot of boiling water. Kissing Anthony...even being in his presence - made her so horny she felt like a pressure cooker. She and Anthony pulled apart and both of them looked down at her big, distended stomach. Inside, their baby kicked and made Lana laugh. "Someone's happy," she said.
"I'm gonna be an auntie," Lincoln cried joyously. He clapped his hands and jumped excitedly up and down.
Lana knew how he felt. Finally, her life was perfect and nothing was going to -
A loud buzzing sound filled Lana's head and she sat bolt upright in bed, the dream dissipating before her very eyes. No...come back. The buzzing got louder and she whipped her head to the source of the noise.
The alarm clock.
It was time to get up for school.
Sighing deeply, Lana hit the OFF button and flopped back against the pillow in a spill of messy blonde hair. She blew a puff of air that rustled her bangs and closed her eyes, hoping to bring the dream back but seeing only the backs of her eyelids. Soon, even the memory of it was fading; she remembered marrying Anthony and...wait, was she pregnant? She thought she was pregnant. And also that Lincoln was wearing make-up.
Yeah, pretty nonsensical when you got right down to it.
But beautiful nevertheless.
She pictured herself pregnant with Anthony's child, and a big. Dreamy smile spread across her lips. Something about the prospect of carrying his baby - the embodiment of their love and commitment to one another - made Lana feel extra tingly. She wasn't usually a big fan of kids, but having her own little Anthony Jr. running around…
Why stop at one? Why not two? Three, maybe, or ten. You know what they say: The more the merrier.
Lana realized she was lightly rubbing her thighs together, creating heart-stopping friction, and forced herself to stop.
Was it weird that thinking of being big and fat with a baby kind of turned her on? Because let's be honest, it totally did. Sure, the thought of actually making the baby was hot, but so was the idea of forming and nurturing it in her womb. She had long yearned for Anthony to put his mark on her and make her his, and really, is there any more permanent way to do that than by getting her pregnant? Talk about showing off! Pregnant women were obnoxiously big and there was no way you could miss one. Every time one showed up, your eyes were instantly drawn to them. They stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb. As soon as everyone got a glimpse of her big ol' belly, they would know right off the bat that:
Anthony was hers and she was his
And:
She and Anthony had tons of hot, sweaty, satisfying sex.
All of the girls would be jealous, but none more than Lola. Lola would be so butt-hurt she'd need constant injections of salve and aloe vera. She'd be saltier than Lot's wife. She'd be Big Mad and probably storm off in tears. The idea of her sister being hurt, on its own, did not make her feel good, but being able to declare total and unconditional victory did. It really wasn't fair that Lola had to be involved in...this...in the first place. She, Lana Loud, was the first to lay eyes on Anthony and she and him were playing tonsil hockey at least an hour before Lola even noticed him.
It was bullshit, pure and simple.
But such was being a twin. She never got to have things to herself. She always had to share with Lola. Her drinks, her snacks, her room, nothing was ever entirely hers. Now she met a great guy that she really liked and wanted...and Lola had to screw it all up by liking him too. Damn, you can't have shit in the Loud House.
As if on cue, the door burst open and Lola came in from the hall, a white towel wrapped around her body and a white one around her head like a Hindu's turban. She was singing some gay ass pop song and shaking her butt from side to side. She was probably thinking about Anthony fucking her from behind and getting her pregnant. "You're thinking of Anthony fucking you from behind and getting you pregnant, aren't you?" Lana blurted.
Lola came to a crashing halt and looked at her like she had a penis growing out of her forehead. "What?" she asked.
"Nothing," Lana said quickly.
Putting her hands on her hips, Lola favored her with a stern look. "I heard exactly what you said. And for your information, I was not thinking of that because I already thought about it during my shower. Twice." She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her hip. "Though now that you mentioned it, that is pretty hot."
Lana threw her pillow at Lola and it struck Lola in the chest, knocking her back a step. She shot Lana daggers, bent down, and picked it up. "You bitch," she said and flung it. Lana snatched it out of the air and slapped it on the bed; all those times Lynn made her play football with her because Lincoln was too injured from past football games to do it really paid off.
"You're just jealous," Lola said.
"Of you? Don't make me laugh."
Lola hummed and turned away, walking to her dresser with an exaggerated swish. She undid her towel and threw it away, baring her butt and the curve of her back. Standing in front of the mirror, she ran her hands over her chest and stomach; her butt clenched and her reflection bit its bottom lip. Lana rolled her eyes and got up to get dressed. "I don't blame you for being jealous," Lola said. "I'd be jealous of me too."
"My body is literally the same as yours," Lana pointed out. "Except my tits are bigger."
Lola gasped. "No they're not!"
"Yes they are," Lana said, "and you know it."
It was true, Lana's breasts were a fraction bigger than Lola's. You couldn't tell by looking at them or touching them and it really didn't matter - most guys don't care that much about breast size - but Lola did care, so she whipped out that little fun fact when Lola needed to be put in her place.
"I know your stomach is bigger," Lola said.
Now that was not true. Like Lana had said, hers and Lola's bodies were as close to identical as you could possibly hope to get. There were differences, of course, since they weren't literally the same person - Lana had a little more muscle and was, maybe, a little more solid around the middle - but those were miniscule. They were the same size and shape and if they dressed alike, you wouldn't be able to tell them apart at first glance.
Still, Lola's insult stuck in Lana's bonnet like a big fat bee. "Eat my ass."
"Maybe if you washed it every once in a while, sweetie."
Joke's on you, Ho-La, I'm about to do that now.
In the bathroom, Lana stripped nude, turned the water on, and adjusted the temperature. When it was to her liking, she hopped in and washed herself with water and soap. As she did so, she hummed a snatchet of music that she liked but couldn't name. Today was going to be a good day. See, it was Saturday and Lola had practice for an upcoming pageant or something (Lana didn't really know and didn't really care). While she was stuck there, Lana was going over to Anthony's house to help him recalibrate the underside of a clunker he bought from the junkyard. He told her about it yesterday and she kind of invited herself over.
Today, she decided, was the day. No more messing around. She was going to make her move and beat Lola to the punch. Lola would get a piece of him eventually, she figured, so why shouldn't she be first? She was the one who saw him first, wasn't she? By all rights, she was entitled to the first dicking.
With sex on her mind, she washed her ass and pussy three times, then put on deodroant when she got out. She dried off, wrapped the towel around her body, and returned to the room. Lola had kindly fucked off and she was able to dress in peace, choosing a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt.
Lana studied herself in the mirror over Lola's dresser, turning left and right to see from every angle. Her hair was starting to dry and get frizzy in places, so she helped herself to Lola's brush and ran it through her locks. When she was finished, she sat the brush aside and examined her reflection with a frown. You know, she looked really weird with straight, silky hair. It didn't look right because it just wasn't her. She ran her fingers through it and shook, messing it up again. It wasn't beautiful by traditional standards, but it was her, and she would just have to work with what she had.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she put her socks and shoes on. Next, she got up and went downstairs. Lincoln, Lucy, Lola, and Lisa sat at the dining room table stuffing their faces with frozen French Toast sticks and Lily was absent, probably upstairs in bed. She was still kind of a newbie to the whole 8-3 school schedule and slept in on the weekends. Lana and the others, however, had been getting up at 6am for so long that they did it even on the weekends when they didn't have to.
Lana crossed the dining room and went into the kitchen. The box the French Toast came in sat next to the toaster. She picked it up and looked inside.
Empty.
Typical.
She went to the pantry and rooted around, finally finding a can of mixed nuts. Score! She peeled the lid off, tossed it over her shoulder, and strode into the dining room, tossing nuts into her mouth and crunching them between her teeth. Nice and salty, just like Lola will be once she finds out Anthony punched Lana's V-card first. Lana could already hear Lola's frustrated growling, and it was music to her ears.
What if she got heartbroken and cried?
That thought stopped her cold. Despite all their bickering and their pseudo Cold War over Anthony, Lana loved her sister and didn't want to hurt her. Would she really be hurt, though? Like, if Lola beat Lana to the punch, yeah, it would sting, but it wouldn't stop her. She'd still go after Anthony and if he was reluctant because he was "with" Lola, well...she'd let him know that Lola was okay with it. That wouldn't be a lie, Lola would grudgingly accept it just like Lana grudgingly accepted that Lola would eventually come along after her. She said she was entitled to the first dicking and not the only dicking, after all. She was willing to let Lola get her hands on him, and if she kept in her lane, things would be fine.
If she tried to make him hers and hers alone, however, Lana would come down on her like a ton of bricks. She was pretty sure that Anthony would rather be in a relationship with her instead of Lola anyway. They had tons more in common. What would he do with Lola once his nut was spent on her stomach? Talk about frilly dresses? Shop? Read fashion magazines and giggle about cute boys? Oh boy, so compatible. Meanwhile, once Anthony finished inside of her (Lana would totally let him), they could fix cars, play with power tools, and go mud bogging. They'd have a blast together because they had way more in common than he and Lola did, so at the end of the day, Lana was confident that she would win the war.
She was vaguely aware that hers and Lola's largely unspoken arrangement probably wouldn't last forever. Unless they both married Anthony and lived with him in some kind of dumb fan-fic like harem, one would eventually beat out the other. Would Lana willingly bow out to avoid hurting her twin?
Not a fucking chance.
Would Lola do it?
Yeah right.
Of course, Lana was kinda getting ahead of herself; counting her eggs before they hatched, putting the cart before the horse, and...idk, a bunch of other old sayings. The chances of either one of them actually marrying Anthony were probably fairly slim since high school romances don't usually last. She should be thinking of more immediate things...like what she was going to do to him when they were alone. She would totally go primal and rip his clothes off, kissing and licking every inch of his body, including his butt...especially his butt. She would shove her nose between his cheeks and sniff, lick his puckered hole and jack him from behind, take his load on her face and tits, then cram it into her pussy with her fingers. She would pin his wrists over his head and savage him, riding that big black cock until he called her mommy and actually made her one. She would attack his neck and face with hickies, thread her fingers through his hair and pull as she slammed onto his dick, suck and nibble his bottom lip, and let him cover her in hot, sticky piss.
Something hard and bony rammed into Lana's side and she came out of her reprieve. She was sitting at the table with her nut can in front of her and everyone was staring at her like she was insane. She looked at Lola, who sat beside her with a sour expression on her face. "What?"
"You were humping the table and moaning," Lola said.
Lana blushed. She was?
"You need to go take a cold shower or something," Lola snipped.
"I already took a hot one," Lana said and shifted her weight. Her middle was damp and sticky with her natural lubrication and her thighs stuck together. If she squeezed really hard, she could probably make herself cum a little. She could not, however, fill herself with Anthony's primo seed and begin to create new life.
She would just have to do that the old fashion way.
"...to me?" Lola was asking.
Lana blinked in confusion. "What?"
Lola let out a nasty sigh and stood. "I don't have time for this. I have practice." She took her plate into the kitchen then crossed through the dining room on her way to the front door.
Lana leaned back in her chair and watched her go. When she was gone, she let out a belch and then a fart. "Have fun at practice." She caught a whiff of her stench and her lips puckered. Lord God above, that was gross. Note to self: Don't do that in front of Anthony. She wanted him alive, and if she let one of these bad boys rip, he'd die before she had a chance to let him bust in her. She couldn't make any promises, though. She had been trying to tone down her crudeness but while she could clean up fairly nicely, at her heart, she was still just a grody ass grease monkey.
She glanced at her phone, saw the time, and jumped up. Oh, shit, she had to go. She reached into the can of nuts, grabbed a big, heaping handful, and shoved it into her mouth. "See you guys," she said, spraying mushy bits of food all over Lisa and Lucy, "I'm late for getting my cherry popped."
A flicker of envy flashed across Lisa's face and she gritted her teeth. "With your disgusting behavior, it's a wonder you can find a mate, let alone actually engage in coitus with him."
Lana narrowed her eyes. "You're one to talk, four eyes."
"I'll have you know these lenses are corrective," Lisa stated.
"Shut up," Lana said and waved her off. "Go blow your lab up or something. I'm gonna go get laid."
"Have fun with that." Lucy deadpanned.
"I will," Lana said and looked dead at Lisa. She fisted her hand to her mouth and moved it back and forth while prodding the inside of her cheek with the tongue. She pretended she had a mouth full of Anthony cock and her eyes rolled back into her head. It was so big...and thick...and juicy...and fragrant. She licked the underside with her tongue and it twitched in her mouth, salty precum oozing from its tip. She dipped her hand between her legs and started to hump it, the scrape of her clit against the inseam of her jeans driving her wild with passion. She started to slip her hand into her waistband, but something struck the side of her face. She came back to reality and touched her hand to her cheek; it came away stick, but not in a good way.
Syrup.
Another piece of French toast pelted her, and then another. "Get out of here," Lucy said and flung another.
Lana flipped her off and went upstairs to wash the syrup off her face. She did get kind of carried away, didn't she? She couldn't help it. Thinking of Anthony woke powerful feelings inside of her. He, more than anyone or anything else, brought out her inner slut and made her want to do things that even she would normally find repugnant.
She farted.
He also made her gassy.
Okay, that wasn't him, it was the retarded Loud Gene, but still, he sent it into overdrive so he bore a good portion of the responsibnility.
After he broke her in a little - if you know what I mean - she would probably be fine. Until then, she was just going to be a nasty, disgusting fuck who burped and farted and idk other weirdo shit. Hopefully Anthony wasn't against smelling raw sewage from time to time.
If she was lucky, he was totally into that kind of thing. He might like sniffing farts and licking toe jam. She sure knew she did. She'd suck his toes clean off and inhale his butt vapor like the finest perfume. She'd -
She realized she was about to lose herself in another sexual fantasy and shook her head. Why do that when she could lose herself in the real thing?
Cocking her leg, she let out a wet fart that a fartfag would get raging hard from then snapped the light off and left. Outside, the sun sat high and bright in the piercing blue sky. A warm breeze blew over her and the leafy green trees lining either side of Frank;lin Avenue rustled and stirred. September was one of Lana's favorite months. The sun seemed somehow brighter and the weather in a strange state between hot and cool. Autumn was just around the corner and if you squinted juuuust right, you could see it coming on the horizon. Lana leaned back, shoved her hands into her pockets, and walked the half block to Anthony's house.
She still couldn't get over the fact that he lived so close but that she had never met him before. She couldn't remember off the top of her head how long he had lived in the area, but it wasn't very long. Still, you'd expect them to cross paths at least once, especially considering they rode the same bus and went to the same freaking school.
Lana jammed her finger up her nose and swirled it around, hooking a nice, juicy booger.
It was a mystery for the ages. Then again, she was usually so absorbed in her own projects, and in thinking about her own projects, that she didn't exactly run around shaking everyone's hand and learning their names. That went doubly for boys. She had noticed cute boys before the Loud Gene took hold, but it wasn't a big deal. She'd see a hot guy, lick her lips, and then move on with her life. But now, things were different. Now she was a bitch in heat and needed to be rutted and made pregnant. Her libidio had kicked into overdrive, hyper drive, and her thirsty little pussy governed almost every thought and action.
She sucked the booger off her finger and swished it around her mouth.
Sex, and sexual pleasure, were first and foremost on her mind, and every stray thought led inevitably back to it. Even now, she was rubbing her erect nipple through her T-shirt and dreaming of wrapping her legs around Anthony's head. She pulled her hand away and forced it to her side, but it crept back to her boob and gave it a sexy little squeeze. Oh, Anthony, you know just how to touch me. Do it lower...yes, right there. Ummmm. Use your fingers. God. yes, fuck, Jesus, just like that, don't stop.
Lana came awake to find herself leaning her forehead against a telephone pole with her hand thrust down the front of her pants and knuckle deep in her pussy. She blushed, stole a look around to make sure she wasn't being watched, and pulled it out. Curious, she sniffed her hand then licked it. Man, I taste great.
How does Anthony taste, though?
Let's go find out.
Lana pushed away from the pole and walked the rest of the way to Anthony's house. She went up the driveway, which ran between the side of the house and a long row of bushes separating Anthony's yard from the next one over, and into the back yard, freezing when she saw Anthony .
He was talking to another girl.
Dressed in tight jeans that showed off his delicious bulge and a black tank top that bared his perfect, Greek god muscles, he stood on the patio with his arms crossed over his chiseled chest and talked to a tall, slender woman with short black hair and a gap in her teeth. Lana knew her at once but couldn't remember her name; she was Luna's friend. Terry? Tabby? Tabby, that was it. What the fuck was that bitch doing here?
And she wasn't alone. That cunt Vicky who picked on Lisa was with her, arms crossed and making a point not to look at Anthony. Lana narrowed her eyes and balled her hands into fists. Alright, she was (kinda) willing to share with her twin sister, but she was not about to let these two thots in on the action. She walked up to Anthony, slipped her arm possessively around his waist, and leaned against him. "I'm here," she said.
"Oh, hey, Lana," he said. "This is Tabby. She and her cousin just moved in next door."
Lana flashed a tight smile with no warmth. "I know Tabby. She's friends with my sister Luna." She darted her eyes to Vicky. "I didn't know this was your cousin."
"Yeah, we don't look too much alike," Tabby laughed. "Poor her. She missed out on the good genes."
"Lucky me," Vicky said. She darted her eyes to Anthony and then away. There was something in her gaze that Lana didn't like.
"I'm just kidding with you," Tabby said and nudged Vicky with her elbow.
"Will you stop?" Vicky snapped, a light blush creeping across her face. "You're embarrassing me."
Tabby explained that Vicky's parents were "away" and that she had legal custody of her. Lana didn't know what "away" meant in this context, but she pictured them methed out in a trailer somewhere. That's why you bully people, huh? Cuz you spent your childhood watching your druggie parents eat each other's scabs off and dunking on others makes you feel better. Oh, you get a few sick burns on Lisa from time to time, but at least she has a loving family. Mom and Dad never raided her piggy bank to pay for crack. LOL. Pathetic bitch. Go away so I can fuck my boyfriend. My pussy is on fire.
Thanks again for fixing my car," Tabby said, "I really appreciate it. If it weren't for you, we'd be screwed right now."
Wait, the car was hers?
"No problem," Anthony said. "I'm glad to help."
When she and Vicky finally pissed off, Lana turned to Anthony. "I thought you said you bought that car from the junkyard."
Anthony favored her with a blank expression. "I never said that."
Oh, bullshit.
Lana started to say as much, but she stopped. Wait a minute. Did he say that? Now that she was thinking about it, she wasn't sure that he had. Hmm. She was really bad at listening to him sometimes, but only because he was so hot that when she looked at him, everything else ceased to matter.
"Oh," she said and awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck. "I thought you did. I guess I spaced out or something. Where is it?"
"Around front," Anthony said. "I was tinkering with it earlier. I'm not sure, but the drive trane acts like it's cracked."
They walked around the side of the house. "That's not good," Lana said. "Did you check the auto shaft? It could be that."
"Yeah, I did," Anthony said, "but I couldn't get too good a look at it. I'm gonna have to jack the car."
Ummm, Lana would have to "jack" something later.
The car was parked in the garage, a silver Toyota hatchback so eighties it oozed glitter and hairspray. Constellations of rust swirled along its flanks, the antenna was bent, and a faded bumper sticker graced the ass end, its edges torn and chipped away like someone had tried to peel it off. GEORGE W. BUSH FOR PRESIDENT.
Who?
Lana had never heard of him so she assumed he didn't win. Poor bastard. No wonder someone tried to get his sticker off of their car.
A long work bench covered in a mess of tools, cans, auto parts, and other junk stood against one wall, a shelf laden with even more stuff flanking it to one side. Anthony went over to the bench and shifted around until he found the jack. He knelt next to the car, wedged the tool underneath, and began to pump the lever. His arm muscles flexed and throbbed, and Lana felt herself getting warm. "I'm kind of surprised Tabby is driving this hunk. I haven't seen one since the nineties."
"She's apparently really broke all the time, so I guess it makes sense."
"Do you know her?" Lana asked.
Anthony dragged over a wheeled board and laid back on it. "Not really. My mom knows her aunt. She needed someone to fix her car and my mom brought my name up." He rolled under the car and Lana stretched out beside him, the concrete cool and hard against her back.
"You're getting paid?" she asked.
"Nah," Anthony said. "I'm doing it for free. I wouldn't feel right charging someone who's basically a single mom."
Lana snorted. "You're a cuck."
"What? How am I a cuck? I'm doing something nice for someone."
Lana examined the underside of the car, looking for cracks, breaks, and the like. "I bet she paid somehow."
"Nope," Anthony said and reached for a wrench. "I'm doing it totally pro bono."
Lana hummed. "I'm sure."
That made Anthony laugh. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Her lips looked kind of sticky," Lana said. "And she had a little something on her chin."
It took Anthony a moment to comprehend what she was saying, and when he did, his face blushed. "Gross." There was something in his voice, a knowing little tremor, that betrayed him. He didn't think it was gross. In fact, maybe he thought it was hot and actively wanted to put his dong in Tabby's mouth.
Well, there was one way to fix that.
She'd just have to put it in her mouth first.
While Anthony methodically rapped the drive trane, Lana used her phone as a flashlight and ran her fingers over the auto shaft looking for cracks. She found one but it was a hairline fracture that wouldn't cause even the slightest problem - yet. "You got a soldering gun?" Lana asked.
"Yeah, on the table," Anthony grunted. He was trying to loosen a screw. His arm muscles strained and his teeth clenched.
"Don't hurt yourself, poopsy," Lana said.
"Trying not to," he said.
Lana crawled out from under the car, found the gun, and hooked it up to a nearby tank. She rolled the set-up closer to the car, snagged a pair of goggles, and climbed back underneath. She turned the gun on and a flame leapt from the barrel. She trained the fire on the crack and moved it slowly back and forth, closing it. Anthony finally got the screw loose and let out a deep breath. "Now we're in business," he said.
"How is it?" she asked.
"I just gotta replace the aft collaborator. Everything else should be good. If I was a pro and had a full workshop plus tons of time, I'd take the whole thing out and replace it but I can only do so much. Check the brake lines, will you?"
"Yep," Lana said.
She found the brake lines and traced them with her fingers, feeling for any irregularities. When she got to the brake pads, she blinked. They were thinner than a holocaust victim. "Got any brake pads?" she called.
"Yeah, right here."
Anthony's hand appeared beside her. She took the brake pads, thanked him, and quickly changed them out. By the time she was done, Anthony was beside her again. He had trouble fitting the collaborator in. "I think I gotta remove the forward one first," he said and wiped sweat from his brow. He felt around for his wrench and Lana handed it to him. "Thanks," he said.
"You don't have to take it all the way out," Lana said. "Just loosen the one side so you can slip the aft one in."
Anthony studied the collaborators. "You're right," he said after a moment.
"I know I am," Lana said smugly.
"You've been working on car's long?" he asked.
"Only my whole life," she said.
Anthony nodded. "Nice. Me too. I used to fix my mom's car all the time when we were poor. Honestly, half the time, I didn't even know what I was doing."
"My dad has this old, beat up van that he refuses to get rid of and there's always something wrong with it. I keep track of how often I fix it and right now I'm at about 550."
He looked. "Five hundred fifty times?" he asked in disbelief.
"Yep," Lana said, "and if the engine keeps knocking, it's soon gonna be 551."
"Nooo," Anthony said incredulously. "There's now you had to fix a car over 500 times,"
"Wanna bet?" Lana challenged.
"Yeah," Anthony said, "I do. I think you're full of it." He smirked.
Lana's insides turned to jelly and her core pinched so hard that her back arched. God, he was so hot when he did that. Who knew a simple smile could reduce her to a horny, leaking, gibbering mess? "No. you're full of it," she shot back.
"I'm full of a lotta things," he said. "Like charm and wit."
"And bullshit."
"That's your area of expertise," Anthony said.
They talked and joked as they worked on the car. When they were finished, they went inside for lunch. After the heat of the day, the air conditioned kitchen was so cold that goosebumps raked her arms. "I'll make a couple of Hot Pockets," Anthony said.
"Fancy," Lana remarked and sat at the table.
"I'm not a very good cook," Anthony said. "I'm actually thinking of taking a cooking class one day to improve my skills." He grabbed a box of Hot Pockets from the freezer, opened them, and put them into their cardboard sleeves, shoving them into the microwave. "I gotta use the bathroom, be right back."
"'Kay," Lana said.
When he was gone, she untied her boots and kicked them off, freeing her hot, aching feet. How come they hurt so bad? She wasn't even on them that much. She rested one foot on her knee, ripped her sock off, and slung it over her shoulder. The rank smell of sour sweat filled her nose and she crinkled it. Leaning over, she brought her big toe to her nose and sniffed. Oh, yuck. She looked around, then shoved her toe into her nostril and picked it. When she pulled her foot away, there was a big, fat booger stuck to the nail. Lana tentatively touched it with her tongue, found it pleasing, and slurped it into her mouth.
Yum. Horderves.
She took her other sock off and crossed her feet on the table, leaning back in her chair. Anthony came in, saw her, and blinked. She felt a rush of embarrassment but she was too comfy to move. Plus. what would be the point in putting her socks back on when she was just going to take everything else off in a minute anyway?
The microwave dinged and Anthony grabbed the plate out with a hiss. "Ow, that's hot." He sat it on the table and fetched two paper plates from the top of the fridge and two forks from the drawer. He sat across from Lana, put one of the Hot Pockets onto a paper plate, and slid it across the table to her. "Bone apple tea," he said.
"I think you said that wrong," Lana pointed out.
"Maybe," Anthony said. He cut his Hot Pocket in half and then quarters. Lana cut hers in half and shoved part of it into her mouth. The edges were scorching hot but the middle was cold as ice. She ate it anyway.
She finished before Anthony and let out a huge belch. She propped her feet back onto the table and picked her teeth with her overgrown pinky nail. Crumbs and moist bits of food littered her chest and sauce smeared her chin. She cocked her butt and farted; it felt kind of wet and smelled awful
Anthony stared at her wiggling toes and blushed, obviously enjoying her sexy, sweaty ass feet. She felt warm and tingly all over and her heart started to race. He was totally checking her out, and was that hunger in his eyes? Because it sure looked like hunger. "You okay?" she asked and batted her eyelashes.
"Fine," Anthony blurted. His voice was high and squeaky and he quickly darted his eyes away. He crammed the rest of the Hot Pocket into his mouth and jumped to his feet. He wheeled around, but not before Lana caught a glimpse of his boner; it pushed out the front of his pants and made his bulge even bigger than it had been before. Lana's heart rocketed into her throat and her mouth went completely dry. He went to the microwave and turned his back to her as if to hide his state. His zipper somehow got snagged on the drawer and he pulled. Through some trite and unlikely series of events, his zip was ripped and his dick came out at the same moment he came loose and turned to face her. It jutted proudly before him like a third arm, big and thick fucking awesome. A strong vein throbbed along its side and it twitched with every beat of his heart.
His eyes widened with embarrassment and Lana's core clutched like an angry fist. An outside force seemed to take control of her then and she got to her feet. Anthony was frozen, not sure what to do, and Lana zeroed in on his fat cock. She walked over with the reverence of a Christian approaching Jesus and sank to her knees in front of him. Anthony gaped down at her and she grinned up at him. This, Lana figured, was where she was supposed to turn on her femoinine wiles and artfully seduce him with some teasing comment about his body. Lana, however, wasn't very feminine and wasn't one to beat around the bush. Girls were famous for being evasive, indirect, and ambiguous.
Unfortunately, Lana just was not one of them. Instead of something hot and sultry, she simply asked, "Can I suck your dick?"
Anthony's jaw dropped and his cheeks turned bright red. She had never seen a black person blush and didn't think it would be so deep...so total. That he was blushing for her made her hot as fuck.
Without waiting for permission, she closed her hand around his dick, leaned in, and flicked the head with her tongue. His taste was wild and musky and it made her dizzy with desire. She ran her fingertips up and down the shaft, tracing the vein as she had the brake line. She closed her eyes and wrapped her lips around the head, moaning in satisfaction at the way it twitched against the insides of her cheeks. She molded her lips tightly around him and went down slowly, her mouth gliding up and down like wet satin and her hand kneading his balls. Anthony gasped for breath and threaded his fingers through her hair, his head flopping back. She took him all the way to the back of her throat and swirled him around. His sticky precum coated the inside of her mouth, hot and salty and good, and her underwear was beginning to dampen. Drool and spunk oozed down her chin and she gargled it like the world's best mouthwash. Fire consumed her from her head to her feet and she didn't know how much more of this she could stand; if she didn't get fucked right now, she was going to explode.
Spitting him out, Lana put her hands on her knees and looked up at him. "Let's go to your bedroom."
Lola Loud got home from practice at half past five; her friend Meggie gave her a ride and dropped her off. She climbed the steps, went into hers and Lana's room, and changed out of her leotard and into something more comfortable. Her movements were slow and mechanical and there was a faraway look in her eyes; the lights were on, but no one was home.
Ever since that morning, she had been thinking of Anthony.
That was normal, but today she was thinking of something more, something that hadn't occurred to her until Lana said something that morning.
Anthony getting her pregnant.
Lola was not a kid person and sure didn't want one now, but, like Lana, she really liked the thought of having Anthony's babies. She hoped they had a daughter and that she was pretty and loved shiny things like her. They could shop, get makeovers, and do all sorts of fun stuff together. She could be Lola's Mini Me. It would be awesome.
It also wouldn't happen for a long time if it happened at all. She might change her mind. Or not. She didn't know. She hoped she did because the more she thought about it, the more she wanted to hurry up and make it happen. No...no, she didn't. But yes she did.
She sighed and sat on the edge of her bed. That wasn't very likely, though. He liked Lana better. She was nasty and liked all that mechanical crap just like him. That made her a much better fit for him than for Lola.
That thought had weighed heavy on Lola's mind all day and she was convinced that she was at a great disadvantage compared to Lana.
What should she do?
Well...she had an idea, but she really didn't want to do it. She hated asking for help and looking weak.
Anthony, though, was worth it.
Getting up, she went in search of Lynn and found her in the backyard playing football with Ronnie Anne. Lincoln sat on the sidelines cheering for his girlfriend and Lisa sat beside him with a black bag in her lap. Sometimes, when Lynn had friends over to play sports, she would have Lisa serve as an onsite medic in case of emergency.; As Lola walked up, Lynn and Ronnie Anne broke and Lincoln ran over with cups of water. "Make me a sandwich, lame-o," Ronnie Anne said, I'm starved."
"Okay," Lincoln said. He started to go inside but Ronnie Anne stopped him by tapping her cheek. He came over and kissed it, and she glowed.
When Lincoln was gone, Lola took a deep breath and walked up to Lynn and Ronnie Anne, Lisa joining them. Lisa was red-faced and fidgety, sweat lightly coating her brow. Her breathing was heavy and there was a familiar gleam in her eye. She was falling victim to the Loud Gene, slowly succumbing to its awful effects.
Poor science geek.
"Hey, guys," Lola said. "Good game."
"What do you want, Princess?" Ronnie Anne asked.
Lynn crossed her arms. "Yeah, you want something. What is it?"
Was it that obvious?
Giving up any pretenses of being here because she wanted to be, not because she needed to be, Lola sighed. "I need your help."
Lynn and Ronnie Anne exchanged a disbelieving look. Lola ordered, Lola demanded, and Lola decreed, but rarely did she ask for help. When she was younger maybe, but not now; she had grown into a proud young woman to whom begging was tantamount to surrender. Why not just give up?
"What is it?" Lynn asked.
With a deep breath, Lola began to speak. "There's this guy that me and Lana both like. He's kind of a gearhead, like, a grease monkey, and Lana, for once in her life, has an advantage over me because she's a foul, wretched little grease monkey too. How can I get an edge over her?"
In the corner of her eye, Lisa glared at her but said nothing.
Lynn held her hands up, palms out. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. You guys are both going after the same boy?"
She sounded uneasy.
"We're sharing," Lola assured her. To herself, she added kind of. "We're not going to kill each other or anything."
Lynn regarded her with an incredulous expression and Ronnie Anne stroked her chin. "Alright," Lynn said. "So you wanna know how to gain advantage over your competitor, huh?"
"Yes," Lola said.
"Easy," Lynn said, "be a giant slut."
Lisa uttered a harsh laugh. "Isn't she already?"
Ignoring her, Lola asked Lynn, "Excuse me?"
"Think of it," Lynn said and put her arm around her younger sister's shoulders. "Guys are direct and straightforward. Sure, teasing and playing hard to get is fun, but most guys don't go for that. The best way to snag one is to just be upfront with him. If you like him, say so. If you want him to bend you over and pull your hair, say so."
Ronnie Anne spoke up. "If you want to spank him with a whip and make him call you Mommy, say so."
Borh Lola and Lynn looked at her funny and she blushed. "I'm just saying. It's not like I do that with your brother or anything." She uttered a nervous laugh.
Getting back to the matter at hand, Lola scrunched her lips. She had always been a student of the art of seduction whereby you string the man along, tease him, drop hints, wink, and beat around the bush. Doing anything else seemed clumsy and...slutty. "Are you sure?" she asked.
"Positive," Lynn said. "Just be upfront. Next time you see him, make a bold play. Grab his junk, kiss his neck, and tell him I wanna do you."
Hmmm.
Lola would have to think about that,
But something told her Lynn was right.
Lana laid her hands on Anthony's chest, shifted her hips, and brought herself down onto him. His dick pressed between her lips and prodded her opening. He was so close to entering her that one sudden move would claim her virginity. She was poised on the cusp of making all her dreams come true, but even so, she paused.
As much as she wanted his dick, he was so freaking big that she was admittedly a little afraid of it. She hadn't taken the time to measure it but she knew that it was big, maybe even too big. Her body cried out to be pumped and penetrated, but there was no way she could get him in without doing major damage to her insides.
Anthony looked up at her with hazy eyes. His head swayed from side to side like he was drunk and his chest rose and fell beneath her touch. Her heart gently pounded and her core clenched in expectation of being speared by his massive dong. His heat broke across her sensitive pussy lips and she sucked great gulps of air. She couldn't back out now...didn't want to back out now...but Jesus, he was so big. Could she really take all of him? It didn't seem possible, but hey, vaginas can stretch, can't they? If a woman can push out a whole human being, she could take Anthony's dick.
"Everything okay?" he asked, a needy inflection in his voice.
By way of answering, she lowered herself onto his dick. It squeezed into her and broke through her hymen with a sharp, painful sting. She moaned like a cow and dug her nails into his chest, the feeling of her walls being forced apart sent shivers up her spine. Anthony's breath caught and he threw his head back. His hands went to her hips and then up to her bare breasts. His thumbs kneaded her erect nipples and pangs of sensation rippled through her. "Uuuuuh, fuuuuu, shhhhhhit," Lana howled.
She took a moment to let her body adjust, then she lightly rocked her hips, working his cock with her wet walls and making a series of loud and obnoxious noises. His head raked her G-Spot and stoked the embers deep in her womb into a roaring fire; she issued an ear-piercing sound and then growled as she went faster. The feeling was so intense that she couldn't decide if it was ecstasy or agony. She moved slowly, thrusting with the fragile care of an old woman on her fifth hip replacement navigating an icy sidewalk. Anthony panted and played with her nipples, tweaking and squeezing them until she was breathless and quivering.
Without warning, Anthony rolled her onto her back and mounted her, his dick pressed to her opening and her legs up in the air. He wrapped his forearms around her ankles and thrusted into her. She yelled again at the top of her lungs, sounding like an animal being butchered. Outside on the sidewalk, Vicky looked up at Anthony's house and furrowed her brow. Was someone killing a cat?
Anthony's balls slapped her butt with a meaty thwack and a loud queef rose from her vagina as his shaft displaced air. She would have been embarrassed by this if it didn't drive him so wild. He started to pound even harder, and though she felt like she was going to break into a million little pieces, it was the most amazing thing she had ever felt in her life. She moved up into his thrusts and moaned, screeched, and grunted. Every time his dick sank into her, it produced a fart-like sound, and Anthony went faster. The bed shook, the headboard slapped the wall, and his head knocked at the opening of her womb. He threaded his fingers through her toes, spread her legs, and drilled her like a fucking jackhammer.
Lana's eyes rolled back into her head as he hit her with the mating press, and pressure swelled in her stomach like hot steam. She was powerless to do anything but lay there and take his sex, noit that she wanted to do anything else.
Over time, the friction his dick made as it rubbed against her insides became too much and she came apart at the seams; shaking, moaning, and gushing all over his dick and bed, she came with a scream.
Knowing that she was satisfied, Anthony moved onto pleasing himself. In a few minutes, his dick grew bigger and hotter and Lana knew instinctively that he was going to cum. He pulled point, aimed his dick at her tits, and let loose. The first spurt hit her on the lips. It was hot and slimy, tasting of salt. The third splashed against her chin and dripped into the valley between her breasts.
And still it kept coming. She didn't know how much the average guy was supposed to cum but Anthony came freaking buckets. When he was finally dry, it covered her face, tits, stomach, and legs. Anthony flopped onto the bed next to her and Lana simply lay there relishing the feeling of being drenched in hot, sticky goodness.
"I didn't expect that to happen," he said breathlessly.
"I did," Lana smiled. She rolled over and curled up next to him, getting some of his jizz on him. He winced but wrapped his arms around her anyway. He turned to look at her and they shared a deep, passionate kiss.
Should she take a pic and send it to Lola?
Nah, she wouldn't do that. That'd be mean.
Pressure swelled in her stomach and she cocked her butt, letting out a giant fart from the Hot Pocket. Within seconds, a noxious green cloud of rotten death filled the room like mustard gas on a battlefield. It was so foul that even Lana began to gag. Anthony coughed, choked, and waved his hand in front of his face. Rolling out of bed, he crawled to the window and lifted the sash. Lana buried her face in the pillow and held her breath, hoping for it to pass. Anthony stuck his head out the window and heaved great gulps of air.
Once the room had aired out a little, he held his nose and set up a fan to suck the stench out of the room and blow it out the window. "Jesus Christ, girl, what did you eat?" he asked.
"Your cooking," she said.
"It was just Hot Pockets," Anthony said.
Lana shrugged.
"You're worse than Lola," he said.
That made her smile. "Does Lola suck your dick?"
He didn't have an answer for that.
When the reek had left the room as much as it was going to, Anthony got dressed and so did Lana. "I gotta finish up with Tabby's car," he said.
"Need some help?" Lana asked.
He shook his head. "No, you better go home and take a shit."
That was a good idea.
They kissed and parted ways. On the walk home, Lana began to whistle.
Maybe she hadn't won the war, but she had won the battle: She got to Anthony's cock first.
Your move, Ho-La.
THE END