Du Haute - Prelude
Emily catches my eyes from the other chair, she shakes her head as only a disapproving sister can, but can't hide a smile.
"Saddle up cowboys," my dad loves a road trip: "and let's ride on out!"
We are heading to our house in Mont-Tremblant for my sister's senior year winter break. My college is about halfway there, so makes for a convenient pick up on the way. I catch a ride as often as I can when my family goes up: the skiing is fantastic and it's good to get away from school.
"I am so glad you can join us Jacob," mom turns around from the front passenger seat: "I think your dad would go completely insane if he'd be stuck with just us ladies for the week." She smiles and nod her head as I hand her an obligatory tray of half-moon cookies; she can get them at her Trader Joe's of course, but apparently those are not the real deal.
"I think you know everybody: Brianna, Ashley, Megan and Emily, of course." Smiling faces all around, halfhearted attempts at a wave.
"Hi guys! Sorry to be cramping your style this week, but dad insisted I come."
"I did no such thing; I can handle this bunch with my eyes closed," my dad jibs from the driver's seat.
"You keep your eyes open, and on the road, love" my mom commands as we take off: "We still got a long way to go."
Em's been friends with these girls forever, well, at least since my junior year of high school, when I suppose I really started noticing them...
I don't know them very well, but there are benefits to being the handsome big brother: I've got Ashley and Brianna on Insta, and their stories keep popping up in my feed. Cute girls. The pert butt greeting me belongs to Brianna, now sitting in the middle seat on the third row. She's the spunky one. Her hair pulled up whatever she posts: a constant smile on her face, always in the thick of things, always with the "go get them" quotes. A real 'joie de vivre', as they would say in Quebec. Ashley on the other hand, is typically playing the mysterious card: often vaguebooking, posting poetry and dreamy pictures of herself: her big dark eyes framed by long wavy hair, a smile not really in her vocabulary.
My sister is the glue that binds the group together, I suppose. Working hard, playing hard, but such an easy personality. "If you make it into her circle you are made for life," Megan said at the breakfast table once. The two of them are BFFs and it's almost like she is part of the family: she's been up at the house so many times she has her own room. The two of them look strikingly similar, but Megan is a little taller and in outstanding physical shape: swimming with the seniors on our swim team the year I left for college, making States.
Outside the car windows upstate New York soon starts zooming past in the dark, it all looks the same from the interstate. The small talk dies down as the car engine drones on, I lean back into the seat and catch some zzzs.
My phone vibrates, not sure how long it has been but the notification brings me back from pleasant dreams of powder snow: "I miss you..."
I hooked up with Shannon at a swim party a few weeks into the school year. She's a sophomore on the team, not tall enough, and too stunning in a swimsuit to ever make the Olympic Trails, but great fun to hang around. She has helped make my transition to college easy: offering introductions to the right people, in and outside the team, and providing her sexy version of home comforts in her room at "the swim house".
"Are you alone?"
"I told you I was going with my family," I send her a goofy grinned selfie with the car roof as background.
She replies with a selfie of herself peering mischievously over the edge of her white duvet cover, steel blue eyes, blond bob: "I decided to stay in tonight, too much hard work getting dressed up to go out in the cold."
"Are you alone?"
"Not quite," she snaps a pic of her purple rabbit vibrator on the bedside table next to her.
"Oh, you naughty girl, you didn't tell me there was someone else."
"I never said we were exclusive."
In her next selfie she is wrapped up in her faux fur throw, kneeling on the bed, making pouty lips holding the rabbit in the palm of her hand, as if on a platter, the fur parting down the center of her chest. I move in the seat to get a little more comfortable, my cock apparently needs some room to grow.
"Hot stuff, on a freezing cold night!"
She responds with a shot where her arm is slung under her full breasts, pushing them up and out of the cover, but nipples still discreetly covered by the throw.
"Is this where I respond with the eggplant emoji?"
"Yeah, if you are 40, and want this to end in a minute!"
"Smiley face, winky face, Canadian flag"
"Are you there yet?"
"No, we got hours to go still , we haven't even gotten to the border"
"I've got some way to go too," she sends through a closeup of one of her breasts, big puckered areola, the stiff nipple set between the little bunny ears on the vibrator.
"Ah-um!"
- I didn't mean to say that out loud!
Mom's head turning in the front passenger seat: "Are you OK Jacob?" she's the only one still using my real name. The light from the screen makes it difficult to hide the embarrassment on my face. "Yeah, um, I didn't think Em meant to kick me..." Emily, face in her own screen, gives me a quizzical look, and this time she does kick me.
The next pic comes through: a POV of the rabbit between her full breasts pushed together by a cradling arm: "Insert eggplant here."
"I am a little bigger."
"Bigger than an eggplant?"
"Cheeky: Bigger than your rabbit friend..."
"Are you?"
...
"Just joking."
"Way to make a guy lose his confidence."
"Your cock is so much bigger - but it does not have variable speeds, or funny little bunny ears to provide the ultimate pleasure."
"You should be grateful, baby, I wouldn't be able to be out in public."
"That might not be the worst, just having you here in my bedside drawer, all to myself, to do with as I please."
One more POV, laying on her back now, shot down between her breasts towards a little tuft of blond hair on her mons. The tip of the vibrator showing between her legs beyond that.
"Oh god, you are such a sexy woman."
"You make me so wet, you big guy, come back and fill me up!"
"I'll be back before you know it; in the meantime, let Mr. Rabbit be my stand-in, and keep me posted.
One more shot, selfie lens, close up between her legs: the vibrator leaning between puffy pussy lips for my benefit.
"I miss you"
"Show me"
Oh god, my cock is overflowing, sitting in a car filled with cute 18 year olds: precum seeping into my boxers. I shuffle in my seat trying to find some comfort, and to not be too obvious. Mom turns to me again: "do you need dad to pull over?"
"No, no, its OK, it's just, my hamstring fell asleep for some reason, I just need to move it a little and massage it."
"I can do that," Em pipes up, and leans towards me. "Get off me, silly," I pull my legs up. The girls in the back joins in the commotion: egging on a sibling scuffle. For fuck's sake - I typically don't mind the attention and would have taken the bait, but I am in the middle of something...
Thankfully there is radio silence as I rub out my right hamstring to address the "prickling sensation" as visibly as I can, seemingly to my audience's satisfaction. The energy in the back subsiding. "We'll stop for gas in about 30 minutes," dad announces from the front.
The phone in my lap vibrates again - There's a video attachment, probably not for opening in a crowded car. Another picture drops: She's on her stomach on the bed, arm stretched for a high angle shot: breasts lifted off the mattress for the pose - firm ass in the background. "Thank you for flying Air Shannon!" Her messy hair, satisfied smile, and finger to her lips says it all.
"Gorgeous, and generous, thanks babes"
"Sweet dreams, hon"
An Insta notification?
"So, it is true then: gentlemen prefer blondes?"
The fuck?
Brianna. What...?
"Who says I am a gentleman?"
"Well, at least it didn't take long for you to confess," a smiley face, supposedly to soften the blow: "it also seem you have some work to do on general discretion."
She catches my eyes as I turn around sheepishly. Her wide cheeky grin turns self-conscious, and she looks away, the assurance momentarily gone before she locks eyes with me again, biting her lips.
This will be a long week.
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