Game Night

Josh

“C’mon dude, just fifty a baggie. I’m practically giving it away.”

I eye the thin sandwich bag containing a half-inch line of fine white powder. There’s an oily sheen to it that makes it almost look pearlescent. A pink stamp with a naked cupid baby holding a bow and arrow is smeared on one corner.

“What is it again?”

Rudy shrugs. “Little bit of Molly, little bit of coke, a proprietary blend of spices sure to rev any girl up. The dude who makes it calls it ‘rapture’ but seriously, this shit is how I got Amber to let me put it in her butt. It worked in minutes, dude. Thirty for the bag is a steal. I’ve been selling these babies for one-fifty. This is my last one.”

Sure, he sold all the others for one-fifty but he’s going to give me a bargain basement price of fifty for some magic powder that makes any girl wanna fuck you? Rudy was full of shit. It was probably a sprinkling of coke mixed in with a fuck ton of baking soda.

“I don’t know man. I don’t even have a girlfriend right now. Who the fuck am I gonna use your pixie dust on? Besides, I’m saving up for a handheld. Maybe the Rog, maybe the Steamdeck. Either way, losing fifty bucks is gonna set me back a lot on that. I’ll pass.”

Rudy’s face turns pissy. “I’m making this deal special for you, Josh, because we’ve been tight for a long time and because you’re my best customer when it comes to buying flower. C’mon, this is the last bit I got to sell and I’m on a deadline.”

I shake my head, “If you got some flower, I’ll buy a gram or a pre-roll if you got ’em, but I’m not spending more than twenty bucks.”

“Josh! Are you in– Oh hi Rudy, I didn’t know you were here.”

I smile at my Mom as she stands awkwardly in my doorway.

“Hey Mrs. Smith! Lookin’ real pretty today,” Rudy says enthusiastically. I roll my eyes. He always hits on my mom. Fucking hell, everyone hits on my mom. She’s forty-two and she looks like she’s barely thirty. Her soft blonde hair is almost ash white, she has bright blue eyes and a nice figure. She’s not as short as my sister Cammie, but she’s taller than most adult women I know.

And as weird as it sounds, my Mom has great tits. Like, amazing tits. They’re perky and round and I get to watch them bounce around as she’s cleaning the house on Sunday because she doesn’t wear a bra on the weekends when she’s at home.

Mom smiles awkwardly at Rudy.

“Thanks, Rudy. Are you staying for dinner? We’re having our family game night tonight and ordering pizza!”

Rudy glances at me with a sly smirk, “Nah, Mrs. Smith. I gotta get going. Places to be, people to talk to.”

“Alright well Josh, I just came up here to check that your room is clean. Thank you for putting all the clothes in the hamper. Maybe if you’re feeling industrious, you might also figure out how to get it in the washing machine yourself?”

I nod, running my hand through my dirty blonde hair a few times. “Yeah, I’ll get on it. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. But seriously, you and Cammie are old enough to do your own laundry now. I only have so many hands and so many hours in the day. Anyway, I’m done harping, I’ll leave you guys to hang out.”

Rudy stands and goes to the door. “I’ll follow you down Mrs. Smith. I gotta get going anyway.”

Squinting at Rudy in suspicion I get up too and follow them both down the stairs. Mom veers off into the living room while Rudy heads to the kitchen. He likes using the back patio door to come and go. I make sure he’s actually going to the kitchen before I turn to go down in the basement.

I walk through the bonus room to the back where the washer and dryer are located. Up until two years ago, this basement used to be creepy as fuck. It was dark and dank, with cement walls and floors, and almost no lighting. Two years ago, right before I turned sixteen, my dad redid the whole thing. We spent all summer putting up drywall and laying carpet. One of his buddies from work ran the electrical. The upstairs furniture came down here and Mom bought all new couches and shit for the living room.

Cammie and I mostly use the space to watch movies when Mom and dad want ‘alone time’ upstairs to watch their tv shows that are boring as shit. There are only so many cop shows I can stomach on a nightly basis.

It’s also where we have our weekly family game night. We can get as loud as we want down here and not disturb the neighbors. Sometimes things get heated during Monopoly.

God, I hope we don’t play that tonight. I fucking hate Monopoly. I always lose.

I drag my dirty laundry hamper into the small room and start a load then I flop down on the couch in the bonus room, turn on the big screen tv and put it on a sports channel. I don’t plan on watching it, I just need the noise while I fuck around on my phone.

Rudy’s visit has me in a weird mood. I’m annoyed he pressed me so hard to buy that ‘rapture’ shit. I’m annoyed he was checking my Mom out. And I’m really annoyed that I was thinking about my mom’s tits. Like a fragment of a song you can’t get out of your head, all I could imagine was how her tits jiggled as she cleaned the windows in the living room last weekend.

Which always leads to me thinking about the fact that I used to suck on those hot tits when I was a baby.

Man, I wish I could remember what that was like. I wish I could just grab a handful of her tits and mash them. Which leads me to thinking about how it’s not fair that dad gets to play with them and no one else does.

I roll my eyes and scroll through my newsfeed, trying to ignore my hard on so it’ll go away.

“What’s up, buttfucker?”

My yelp is emasculating. I sit up quickly and grab the throw pillow closest to me and slap it over my crotch.

“Don’t fucking sneak up on me!” I growl at Cammie.

She laughs like the brat she is. “I wasn’t sneaking. I came down the stairs like I always do. You just weren’t paying attention. Oh my God, are you jacking off? Do you have a boner? Your face is so red.”

“Fuck you,” I hiss, my dick getting harder just to spite me.

My dad’s thumping steps come down the stairs and that helps my situation a lot. Relaxing back into the couch cushions, I pocket my phone and glare at Cammie, who sits down on the love seat opposite the couch.

Dad’s wearing casual clothes already so that means he must have gotten home shortly after he talked to mom. He works on a construction site, so if he’s not in work pants and neon yellow, he’s in off mode.

“You guys pick the games yet?”

Cammie doesn’t take her eyes off her phone screen when she answers with, “I just got here.”

Mom clears the last step carrying a pitcher of red fruit punch, a stack of plastic cups, and a snack tray that is not big enough to feed all four of us. Especially if I’m eating from it.

When Cammie realizes there’s food she abandons her group texting. We all reach for the tray while Mom fills cups with punch.

“Alright, guys. What are we playing first?”

I have a mouth full of cheese slices and crackers so I can’t answer right away. I know that’s going to cost me because Cammie immediately shouts, “Monopoly!”

Chewing as fast as I can, I shake my head and then start to cough around all the dry crackers. Mom shoves a cup of punch in my hands and I chug half of it in one go.

“No monopoly! I suffered enough last week!”

Dad laughs, that asshole. He always gets Park Place.

Taking another sip of the punch, my brow twitches down for a moment. I look down at the cup and frown. It tastes a little off.

“Since when do we get fruit punch?” Cammie asks, taking a healthy sip of her drink.

I look over and see Dad emptying his cup.

“I’m not complaining. I didn’t drink enough water on the job site today. I’m feelin’ it now. Pour me another one, honey.”

Mom fills dad’s cup again and shrugs, “They were out of the lemonade stuff so I got fruit punch. I thought it would be fun to try something different. It’s the frozen concentrate but it’s a store brand.”

Ah, that’s it then. Probably something weird with all the red dye making it taste weird. I take another sip and set my cup down on the large coffee table.

“Alright, we’re playing Yahtzee first.”

“I second this,” Dad says with a nod. “Classic game.”

“Whatever,” Cammie mutters. “Fine.”

Mom grabs the box from the shelf and starts unboxing the cards and pencils when my muscles start to relax. I shake my head, blinking a few times to clear my vision.

The fuck was that?

And was it getting hot in here?

Can’t be, the basement is always cold.

I look over at Cammie. Her cheeks are flushed. Dad pinches his shirt and wafts it out a few times. Mom doesn’t look bothered at all though.

Weird.

I hope I’m not getting sick.

“Who’s going first?”

“Me!” Cammie shouts, grabbing the dice and cup.

Ugh.