Chapter Six
Memories of Forgotten Dreams
The smell was heavenly. Wendy Testaburger brought the steaming cup of tea up to her nose and inhaled deeply the scent of chamomile and honey. It was to help her relax. Too many coffees a day was wrecking havoc on her health and since she had been an addict for so many years, the withdrawal symptoms were atrocious. It also didn't help that she had picked a stressful time to quit. She breathed deeply once again as she had been instructed.
Several weeks ago marked the death of Eric Cartman. While most residents of the town were clueless that he either had still been alive or even in town, Wendy, her sorta boyfriend-ish Kyle, and their friend Kenny saw to it that it remained that way. Ten years ago, that fat fuck, as Wendy so affectionately referred to him, had managed to kill Stan and get away with it. Wendy, being an emotional mess at the time, withdrew from society totally thinking she had been the cause. Years later, Cartman's luck ran out when he was nearly killed in the worst car accident in all of Park County. The downside to living through that was being bedridden in the hospital and hooked up to life support, only to have the plug pulled by the only one of the three young adults with the balls to do so. Regret, however, weighed heavily on her. Those balls were possibly too big for her panties.
The deed done, the three of them went on with their lives. In Wendy's case, she attempted to reinsert herself back into society which was easier said than done. It was difficult mustering the motivation to search for a job, so she instead spent her time either with Kyle and Kenny or trolling retarded ten year-olds on the internet. She had made several attempts at doing something constructive with her time, like continual job searching, seeing her therapist, or writing, but once started her projects usually fell incredibly short. In her mind, it all came back to Cartman. All of her inadequacies and insecurities she blamed solely on him. If Stan had still been alive, she wouldn't have become an outcast; a loner who constantly second guessed most of her decisions. If Stan had still been alive, she wouldn't have been thirsty for revenge and...
Wendy sighed and inhaled more of the chamomile and honey steam rising from her teacup. She couldn't stop seeing Cartman's blood on her hands no matter how much she washed with bleach or scrubbed with steel wool. Plus, it was always in the back of her mind that sooner or later the authorities would catch up with her. She really did not want jail time.
She sighed and took a small sip of her boiling drink. It was hot, like so hot that she felt the tip of her tongue go completely numb. Perfect. She sighed again and held the cup up to her throbbing forehead. She could hear Kyle's mother, Sheila, in the other room fussing about with something. Wendy couldn't tell what it was, and in all honesty, didn't care. She was attempting to cleanse her mind and body of stress and needless worry. She cracked open an eye and regarded the clock on the wall across the room.
It was nearly time. Kyle would be home soon and she knew what that would entail. For the last week she had put up with his constant wondering about how and why Cartman had been hidden at Hell's Pass Hospital for years under everyone's noses. Every other day he was going to storm into Mayor McDaniel's office and demand answers. Every other day in between he would agree with Kenny's refusal to find out and Wendy's own uncaring indifference with a shrug and blow off steam with Generic Mascot Fighting Game GameSphereU or Crazy Car Theft Simulator Clone IV. On the following day, the whole process would begin again. His flip-flopping was doing her head in. He needed to pick a side and stick with it for more than twenty-four hours.
In all honesty, Wendy's indifference to the Cartman situation was a front. In reality, she didn't want to know, didn't care to know, and wanted to leave things best unknown to the wind. She had enough things going through her head without that mess as well. She took another slow sip of her drink and let out a tiny moan of pleasure. It was almost like a reverse orgasm; it started in her mouth and slowly worked its pleasuring tendrils down her spine. Wendy was impressed that Kenny's sister made her own blends from her own grown leaves. The older girl could barely tie her own shoes.
"So, I take it that you like it," said Karen to Wendy with a wide shining grin. The female McCormick's upbeat happy demeanor was catchy, almost unbelievably so. Wendy was also impressed by the other girl's ability to see the world through unjaded eyes. No matter what horrible thing was thrown her way the girl would just shrug it off with a smile and continue to see the good in the world. Wendy needed some of that optimism. As far as she was concerned, the world was out to knock her to the ground and kick her while she was down. Fuck the world was her usual motto. It drove her therapist crazy.
Wendy took another sip of her tea and sighed in content as it warmed her from the inside out. The tea was so phenomenal it didn't even need sugar. She stated so with the slurring of pure bliss. Karen giggled and adjusted herself in her seat. That was when Wendy felt a soft leg brush against her own. She tried her best to hide her reaction. This was the third time in less than half an hour. She was convinced now that it was no mere accident. While Wendy had no concrete evidence of the younger girl's sexuality, there was no mistaking that move, especially the lingering touch at the end. For a laugh, she occasionally would do the very same to Kyle to send him in a panicked frenzy. He didn't do well with sexual stimuli. Wendy blamed his overbearing mother for that one.
Compounding this evidence against Karen were numerous heavily veiled compliments, a few thinly veiled ones, and constant staring at her tits. All she had to go on was her gut instinct and it was telling her that Karen was either gay, bi-sexual, or at the very least acting this way because of her lecherous brother. The first two scenarios were definitely plausible. The third, while not so much, was still in the playing field just on the grounds that the young girl was very impressionable and idolized her brother.
Despite Wendy's own quite rigid sexual orientation, she didn't have the heart to tell the girl to knock it off. It was kind of cute and flattering in a way. After being a house hermit for nearly half her life thus far she certainly wasn't going to turn down attention in that regard, especially when she had an ass the size of Alaska. She constantly joked, much to Kyle's dismay, that you could see Russia from her crack. Most people, including her therapist, informed her that she wasn't as big as she made herself out to be; that it was the low self-esteem talking. Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn't. Maybe she needed to exercise instead of writing smutty friend fiction.[1] She looked down at her crumb filled plate and eyed the smears of jelly her donuts had left behind. Just with looking at it, she was suddenly aware of a strange feeling in her sides; almost as if someone were filling her love handles with jelly. Something really not right with that.
"Dammit. I want more jelly rolls," she casually blurted out. When Karen raised an eyebrow in surprise before laughing in response, Wendy withdrew into herself. "I'm such a fat bitch," she scolded herself. And again came the stock low self-esteem excuses made by everyone but her. She inwardly sighed and cursed her loose lips. She suddenly was wishing to be anywhere but here and as far away from human contact as possible.
Thankfully, the conversation, like the winds of change, departed into a new direction. Karen began talking non-stop about things going on at school; who was sleeping with who and the unsolved case of the Mystery Groper in the girls' locker room. This caught Wendy's attention. "Do they have any leads?" she asked.
The younger brunette shook her head, but didn't fully mask the grin on her face. "No," Karen responded, "but I have an idea." She took a sip from her own mug and let the grin spread wider. If it stretched any farther, it'd snap like a rubber band. "I kept complaining to the gym teacher that the school needed to stop buying cheap light bulbs that blow out easily," she lamented. "Of course, it also doesn't help that I purposefully short them out every day." Her laughter was almost comical in a demented sort of way.
Of course, Wendy thought in her eureka moment. The girl was no better than her lecherous brother. She was just better at masking it. The question was, if Kenny put dicks in video games did Karen put tits in video games? Wendy wasn't sure if she wanted to know. The small talk resumed. The foot reappeared on her leg. Wendy again ignored it. Maybe the two of them were in the virtual sex game racket together. Hell, she wouldn't be surprised if the two of them were running a porn site. That certainly would explain how Kenny could afford to support of the two of them on minimum wage.
Time disappeared as the two girls talked and drank it all way. It wasn't long before Kyle and Kenny appeared in the dining room beside them. At that moment, much to Wendy's amusement, she couldn't help but notice Karen had leaped out of her seat and was hanging off her brother like a clingy girlfriend. She stared without staring directly and kept waiting for a hand to disappear behind an ass or a kiss to initiate. Or maybe you want it to happen, came a sly thought from somewhere in the back of her head. No, she needed to get these thoughts out of her head before it got to a point that she'd never be able to look at the siblings the same ever again.
It also didn't help that her thoughts as of late were plagued with desires of a more carnal nature, something she mostly blamed and thanked Kyle for awakening. She would be in the middle of job hunting or writing and suddenly find her mind and hands wandering of their own accord. After that thought and a hug from Kyle, Wendy was suddenly very aware of her underwear and its restrictiveness. She didn't know how he had done it, but ever since bumping into each other that night several weeks ago it was like her beach was at constant high tide whenever the moon that was his ass came near her.
Wendy cringed. That was an awful analogy, even if it was true. It was like an itch that needed to be scratched and, good Lord, was it getting harder and harder to ignore as the minutes wore on. As she watched Kyle, Kenny, and Karen talk about...whatever (She really wasn't paying attention to that minor detail.), she wished that everyone would just fuck off so that she could pin Kyle to the nearest wall and berate him for turning her into a sex crazed retard...or maybe she could just kiss him and...
Mental images of her shoving her hands down his pants were suddenly interrupted with a cough aimed in her direction. It was then that Wendy realized that she was being spoken to. "What?" she squeaked as she nonchalantly attempted to look as if she had been paying attention all along.
Kyle raised an eyebrow in concern as he stated, "I asked if you were feeling alright." Both Kenny and Karen grinned as if they knew what had been going on in her head. Impossible, she knew, but with those two and their perverted natures it was hard to tell.
Wendy stated with a smile that she was merely tired; a bold-faced lie. She wanted to run home and scratch the embarrassing itch in the privacy of her own bedroom, but she sure as hell wasn't going to announce that out loud. She attempted to combat the bubbling hormones by focusing on her breathing and the conversation that was happening with the other three.
It was decided, without her input she discovered, that she and Kyle would pay a visit to Mayor McDaniels to find out once and for all why Cartman had been hidden away for all those years. She audibly voiced her surprise when it was further announced that they were going to embark on this journey before the day's end. As much as she disagreed with that course of action, she was quite pleased that Kyle finally was moving on from his Valley of Indecision and getting on with his life. But was there any way that he embark on this adventure himself while she journeyed on her own to the Valley of...Something Something? She couldn't think of anything to call it as most of her mental resources were trying to keep her hands from wandering on their own.
Based on Kenny's responses, though, she got the impression that he had no interest in this adventure. He gave bull-shit excuses that she saw through clear as day. Kyle, on the other hand... She loved him to pieces, and really wanted to love him to pieces in a different sort of sense, but his gullibility just made her want to grab him by the balls and berate him for being such a retard. There were times that she felt that he'd believe her if she shoved his hand down her pants with claims of having a rock hard cock for a clit. To be fair, her erogenous zone was so swollen in sexual desire at the moment, that she probably could be the man and bend Karen over the table with no issues.
Wait. Did she just imagine the scenario? The whole concept grossed her out and excited her further at the same time. She needed to sort herself out immediately before she did or said something incriminating.
As the siblings left the house, Wendy found herself following Kyle up to his room. She needed to think of something to get out visiting the bitch of a mayor. Something involving ghosts? No, no. That was too silly an idea, even for her in her distracted state. She could say that she wasn't feeling well and needed to go home, but she had already stated that she was merely just tired. As gullible as he was, she didn't think he'd buy that.
When they entered his room, it suddenly came to her. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it with a sly seductive grin. Kyle turned to her with an expression of surprised concern on his face. "You know, Kyle," she said, "I really don't care that Cartman had been hidden from the world. I really don't care about the why or about the car accident that he had been involved in. And, quite frankly, I really don't give a rat's ass about whether Betsy Donovan had been offed because of her knowledge of the situation. It might make me a bad person, but I just don't have any fucks to give."
It was at this point in her train of thought that she realized that she had somehow managed to back the shocked Kyle onto his bed and was hovering over him on all fours. She giggled and distributed her weight on him before kissing him briefly. She whispered, "But I do have some fucks of a different nature to give if you'd like." He just stared in response and looked as if he was going into sensory overload. The pressure that suddenly appeared on her thigh caused her to giggle once more.
She sat up to straddle his waist and promptly removed her upper garments, freeing herself from their restrictiveness. She took note that his eyes were now the size of dinner plates. It was amusing to say the least. "I can think of a few things that would be better spent obsessing over," she continued. She grabbed his hands and crushed her breasts into them, all the while with a shit-eating grin on her lips. "Like these."
Kyle managed to squeak out a weak "Holy shit, dude," before passing out and going limp from over-stimulation.
Wendy sat there in his lap for a moment as she processed what had just transpired. She couldn't believe it. The first time seeing her tits and he goes out cold. She was utterly disappointed and now seriously frustrated. "God dammit," she muttered in disappointment. She considered finishing the job herself right then and there, but that would be borderline creepy. She decided that the bathroom and her hairbrush, sadly, would have to do.
Wendy was startled awake from an intense full body muscle spasm that caused her to knock several books from her bed. It was an incredibly intense feeling that reverberated throughout her body, starting between her legs and working its way up her spine. She gripped her bed sheets so tightly in rigid agony that her knuckles where white. On the inverse, her toes were so curled from the sensation that they actually hurt. She attempted to even out her breathing to stop the scream in her throat from escaping. It was the only thing that she could think straight about as her mind swam in the lucid haze.
After what seemed like hours, she was able to relax and fall limp against the mattress. What the fucking hell was that? A seizure? Whatever it had been felt too good for anything like that. Like really really good. If anything, it had felt so good that it hurt. And it hurt so much it felt good. Jesus, how confusing was this?
She wiped tears from her eyes as she sat up and dangled her legs over the side of the bed. Something was off. Well, despite the fact that she experienced a seizure like event during a nap. She slipped down to the floor and promptly landed face first upon her legs collapsing from under her. She laughed as she struggled to use the bed to bring herself back to her feet. Upon doing so, she wobbled over to her mirror to assess the damage.
She looked like one of those sex starved bitches from Sex and the City. Messy hair? Check. Wrinkled bunched up clothing? Check. Bright red cheeks. Check. Shaky hands and legs? Check. Wait... She was a child? This confused her more than it should have. Her thoughts kept repeating that she was supposed to be taller...and not in her house. Neither made sense. She shook her head until the thoughts cleared. She must have had another one of those dreams about her future, a future, alternate reality, whatever. Maybe. This one had been different though. She actually didn't remember anything of it, other than that intense feeling she woke up with.
Wendy frowned into her reflection in the mirror, more confused now than ever before. She needed to share this with someone who would understand. She also found herself ravenously hungry for some strange reason. Perhaps Kyle would like to talk over dinner. She grabbed her coat and was about to bolt out the door, but stopped just before. It would probably be best if she changed her clothes before leaving.
[1] The best title Wendy ever came up with was "Going Down in South Park", which involved Kyle going down on her in a whirlwind of passion, lust, and general hotness.[2]
[2] Needless to say, that was one story she could never finish. One could say she suffered from writer's block. Another could say rereading it up to where she left off caused flustered distractions. The world may never know which is true.
