It was the year ‘03, and Martha had just come into her body, new boobs, new hair, new her. She was a superstar. But only she and her friends, along with that one teacher from first grade, knew it. She’d travel around the neighborhood day in and day out, hoping someone would recognize her. But all she saw was the decrepit old lady who sat on her porch from 11 AM to 6 PM, even in the wintertime. Martha figured she’d be that decrepit old lady soon if she didn’t get discovered. Discovered for what exactly? Nobody was sure, but by the way her friends hyped her up and adored her, she knew she was something special.

Now, mind you, Martha didn’t exactly have any real talent. I mean, that is if you don’t consider being extremely vain and having perky breasts talents. She couldn’t draw, paint, write, sing, cook, or even walk correctly, being flat-footed and pigeon-toed. Her mother called her “Birdie” for this very reason. But even though she knew the real reason why her mother called her Birdie, she attributed the name to some weird reasoning about flying high in the clouds and being free or some shit like that. Her brother, on the other hand, loved her dearly, maybe a little too dearly for her liking. But at least he didn’t take up all the time in the bathroom and at least he didn’t pick on her or call her Birdie.

On a sunny Sunday afternoon, she heard the sound of the alarm she had set before her nap. It was 5:30 PM. She spent some time on her phone, then arose to go to the bathroom. In the bathroom, she peed, washed her face, and started her weekly self-care routine by putting on her favorite cucumber face mask. As she left the bathroom, she ran into her brother, who had his gaming headset on and half a grilled cheese sandwich in his left hand. They said nothing to each other, but as he passed, he accidentally touched her butt with a swinging right hand.

“What the fuck, Eric?” she gasped.

“Oh, I’m sorry! It was an accident; I didn’t mean to, I promise,” he said, super apologetically. Martha gave Eric a nasty look and stormed off into her room. As she sat down on her bed, she grabbed her phone off the bed to text her friend Lisa back about a concert they had been planning to attend for half a year now. As she began to type, she couldn’t shake the incident with her brother from her mind.

“I can’t believe that happened,” she thought. Then her mind traveled to places it had never gone before. “Wouldn’t it be crazy if he did it on purpose? He is very handsome. I’d let him grab it if he weren’t my brother. I mean, he’s only my stepbrother; we don’t even have the same parents.” She thought regretfully. She shook her head to regain a normal and sane sense of thought structure.

As she finished texting Lisa, she decided to go along with her Sunday self-care rituals. First, she clipped and filed her nails. Then she painted them a bubblegum shade of pink and put on one of her favorite movies, *Pearl*. With a pause of the TV and a flick of her phone, she was off to the kitchen to bake some cookies. The dough was pre-made, so all she had to do was cut it up and put it in the oven at 350 degrees. That she did.

Heading back to the bathroom, she removed the face mask and moisturized her face. It would be at least 20 more minutes before the cookies were done, and she figured, why not spark up? Her parents were out of town on a “business trip,” which is what they called going to a cabin up north to have sex because they didn’t feel too comfortable doing it in the house after her brother caught them in their bedroom doing it the day before New Year’s Eve almost three years ago. So it was the perfect opportunity to smoke out back in the garage while they were gone.

She rolled a blunt, grabbed the lighter, and headed to the garage. There, she opened an old picnic chair and flicked on her lighter. As she smoked, she turned on some music, and before she knew it, Eric began to creep back into her thoughts. Why did he keep coming up in her mind? Was this some kind of repressed fantasy, like she had studied in her psych class? She could admit that when they were younger, Eric and she had kissed a few times while playing house, but that was just little kid stuff. Right?

She tried to focus on the music and eventually thought no more of Eric but of Brian in her socialization class, who was tall, smart, and handsome. She then thought of how Brian would react to her when she finally became famous. He’d be all over her, in her DMs and inbox, just begging to be with her. As she envisioned Brian, she accidentally let the ash from the blunt fall inside her shirt. She was wearing a bright pink wife beater and orange Halloween pants, even though it was the middle of April.

As she cleaned herself off and put the blunt out, she walked back inside the house to find the cookies done and decided to eat them while taking a bath. As she drew the bath, she gathered all her supplies: phone, speaker, cookie tray, lip balm, and a book. She slipped out of her clothes and dipped a toe in. Perfect, she thought. She turned up the speaker, playing her favorite R&B songs, and picked at the cookies.

She did this for about ten minutes until she was interrupted by a knock on the bathroom door.

“What?” she called out.

Eric peeked in and quickly closed his eyes as he realized what was going on. “Ahh, Eric!” she screamed.

“Oops, sorry,” Eric said, covering his eyes as he relayed a message from their mom. As he began to exit, Martha stopped him by asking if he could do her a favor.

“Could you please get me a new towel from the closet in the hallway, please?”

He left and returned with a new towel, covering his eyes as he walked in to place the towel on the toilet. Martha watched him as he did this and noticed him peek at her. They made eye contact, and Eric, now removing his hands, was fully staring at her breasts, which were partly covered in bubbles from the bath, but her nipples were still visible.

“Uhh, hello!” Martha finally said.

“Oh, sorry!” Eric exclaimed, still looking at her. They stared at each other for a beat, then he left the bathroom. Martha couldn’t help but feel flattered by what just happened. She felt her cheeks redden and tried to keep her mind on the music and cookies in front of her.

After about 15 more minutes, she got out, drained the tub, and wrapped the towel around her. She put the cookie tray in the kitchen sink, passing by Eric, who was now sitting on the living room couch watching TV (he didn’t have a TV in his room like Martha did).

“So what’s up with you?” Martha asked.

“What do you mean?” Eric replied.

“You’ve been acting weird all day, Eric.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! It was an accident, I swear,” he explained.

“Mhm,” Martha said as she slowly made her way back to her room to change. As she walked, she tried to shake off the strange, lingering tension from earlier. But when she glanced his way, she found him looking back at her, his eyes holding hers a moment longer than usual. It made her heart beat just a bit faster, and she quickly looked away.

Almost out of the living room, Eric cleared his throat and spoke, his voice low. “Hey, sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

Martha, not quite sure what to say, replied, “It’s okay,” trying to sound casual, but her voice came out softer than she intended. She headed off to her room and quickly changed into a big shirt and pajama pants. Curious, she headed back out to the living room to find Eric’s eyes fixed on the TV. She sat on the couch next to him, not too close, but close enough to feel the tension in the room begin to thicken. He was flipping through the channels now. She stayed still, watching him, as he repositioned himself more than twice.

“Isn’t the game on?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady, but the way his eyes flickered toward her made her pulse quicken.

“Nah, it finished. I’m just trying to find something good now,” he replied, his gaze lingering on her lips for longer than necessary. It sent a thrill down her spine.

Martha leaned back on the couch, her nipple now hard and pointing upward as she stared at the ceiling. A glance back at Eric revealed that he was staring at her body.

“So, about earlier,” he started.

Martha rolled her eyes. “It’s okay, Eric, I already told you.”

Eric smirked. “Don’t roll your eyes at me like that.”

“What? Why not?” Martha asked.

Eric moved closer. “Just don’t.”

“Oh, please,” she said, rolling her eyes yet again at his ridiculous comment.

“Do it again, I swear I’m gonna give you something to roll your eyes at,” Eric explained.

Martha stared at Eric, at his eagerness for her to do what she was already planning to do. She knew what he meant but wanted to see if he really meant what he said?

She looked down, then back up at him, rolling her eyes. Eric’s eyes widened as he moved closer to her on the couch, their faces now only two inches apart. “Do it again,” he demanded.

Martha stared at him, feeling his warm breath against her lips. She did it again. Before her eyes could even settle back to the center, Eric had his lips pressed against hers. She was hesitant but began to move her lips in sync with his. His movements were strong yet gentle, his tongue exploring hers as he breathed deeply through the motions. He shifted, positioning himself on top of her, her body enclosed between his legs, with a space between their chests.

He paused. “You want this, don’t you?”

She looked up at him through her eyelashes as they lay horizontally on the couch, gently shaking her head in affirmation. He picked her up and carried her to her room, her legs wrapped around his torso. She could feel what she had always seen—a strong, wide body capable of demolishing her. Resting her head on his shoulder as he carried her, she reached her lips up to his neck, licking it. Eric smirked.

Finally reaching her room, he threw her onto the bed. As she looked up at him, he began to take off his wife beater, revealing sweaty abs. She licked her lips. He got on the bed and kissed her aggressively. She liked it. As he kissed her, he removed her pants and then her shirt. Her nipples were hard and pointed right at him, and he looked down at them as if they were turkey at the Thanksgiving table and he hadn’t eaten in days.

“You’re so sexy,” he murmured, taking her left breast into his mouth. Making his way down, he looked up at her and asked, “Is this okay?” Before she could reply, he began sucking her clit and licking her lips until she squirted. He made his way back up to her mouth, kissing and sucking on the sides of her belly. She giggled; that was her tickle spot. Martha could feel his smile on her stomach before he returned to her lips to taste herself.

“Put it in,” she exclaimed between kisses. He leaned up and pulled down his shorts to reveal at least 10 inches. She took it in her hands, guiding him into herself. He was slow and gentle at first, keeping his lips on hers between strokes.

In and out; she moaned, lifting her head in ecstasy. “It’s too big,” she complained.

“Nah, take this dick, baby,” he replied. She bit her lip as he began to thrust harder, smashing against her with one hand covering her throat. She let out a moan, grabbing onto his hand around her throat and looking into his eyes.

“I love you,” he gasped, pounding back into her.

“You’re so wet,” he explained.

“I’m wet for you; I love you,” she responded, biting her lip and scrunching her brows as he continued. Martha’s legs began to shake and close. “It’s too big,” she said.

“Shhhh,” he replied, pulling out and grabbing her by the waist before flipping her over. “Bend over.”

“I can’t take it,” Martha exhaled.

He tapped her butt. “You want this, don’t you, baby?”

“Mhmmm,” she let out. He tapped again before sliding in slowly from the back. Martha gasped as he filled her.

“Yeah, take this dick,” he said, knowing he was pushing her limits.

Martha couldn’t control her mouth or the sounds escaping it; she bit down on a pillow, letting out muffled screams. “I’m so proud of you. Don’t run; I love this pussy. I love you,” he exclaimed between slaps to her butt and deep strokes.

Martha couldn’t take it anymore; she turned over and took him into her mouth.

“Oh no, baby, this is for you,” he said, backing out and bending down to lick her pussy. After a few licks and sucks, she came, and he slid back in. Her eyes rolled back in her head.

“What’s my name?” Eric asked.

She looked up at him, her face a mask of pleasure. “Daddy, baby,” she said.

Eric smiled in satisfaction, pushing deep inside her again and again until they heard keys fiddling at the front door.