Hot Summer Job/Clean yourself up then head over to the Callahan's
You should probably still go after Kylie, just not like this. Not sweaty, reeking of sex, overheated and exhausted. You need to collect yourself, but you do intend to find out what's up with her.
After giving yourself another couple of minutes on the couch you find you've worked up your appetite. You get up and grab another slice from your discarded pizza box. Munching on your pizza you head upstairs for a shower. You just barely hear your sis giggling behind her bedroom door with Larissa as you pass by on the way to grab your towel from your room.
It's still hard to get over the fact that you just gave those two a front row seat to a downright pornographic deflowering of Kylie. You picture the look on their faces while you strip off in the bathroom. Kylie was the one who wanted to do it in front of them. Maybe not 'it', she was kinda resistant to that, but she definitely started things. You're just the one who was able to finish it. With water cleansing and soothing your body, you can imagine the girls ran away when you choked out Kylie's final scream of pleasure. You can still feel that teen pussy squeezing you, milking you, as you packed her full of semen.
The shower feels great and you spend far too long soaking (and stroking) in the hot steam and steamy daydreams. Unfortunately, once you step out, your towel isn't where you left it. Neither are your clothes.
"Not cool Bree!" you shout out into the hallway, irritated. You use a hand towel to dry off as best you can then hurry to your room in the buff, still lost in thought. There's a brief flash of light just before you enter but it barely registers beyond your subconscious. Probably headlights through a window or something.
It takes you a little while to get yourself the rest of the way put together. You find some cooler clothing, a pair of shorts and a sleeveless shirt. You still can't stop thinking about Kylie. You want to tell the world that you just got laid and so send some texts to some friends to brag about the pussy you just scored, although you're not about to volunteer her name or for that matter how old she is. Just that she "goes to another school". Of course then you have to run downstairs to snap some pictures of Kylie's deserted thong to send some sort of proof after you get some disbelievers. Once you do your hair, chat some more, and have another slice of pizza, you finally peace out and head after Kylie.
You wish the walk to the Callahan's was shorter. Being out in public by yourself with only your thoughts after what just happened quickly makes you paranoid. You flip through your phone, but you can't even concentrate on that. In a few short minutes you go from feeling pretty good to anxious and worried. Did anyone see Kylie running home? Even worse, did anyone see her running away from yours? Was she crying? You might've fucked with her head taking her virginity like that. Would she have even gone home afterward? You delete the texts you sent as your conscience comes back, but that doesn't make you worry any less about Kylie, worried why she ran away so quickly.
When you spot her house you get a pit in your stomach. What are you even doing here? Did you take too long? Carrie might know everything by now. You tell yourself that Kylie would never tattle, that she isn't stupid enough to incriminate herself like that... but would she? Is she? Admittedly you don't know her that well.
Your legs carry you forward on a pre-programmed destination. You pace on the front step for a minute, unsure of eaxctly what you're going to say. Then you throw your uncertainties aside and knock loudly on the door... before you remember there's a doorbell. You wait a few seconds, worried no one heard you, then ring the bell as well for good measure. A mere two seconds later and the door opens for you. Great, now you seem impatient. Really you're just nervous. Oh, and feeling guilty as fuck. The glare Carrie greets you with only makes that feeling worse. Might as well have "pussy snatcher" and "innocence destroyer" written on your forehead.
"Sorry," you immediately blurt out. "It was an accident." Your unsolicited guilt-ridden apology makes Carrie raise her eyebrows. She has to pull your awkward self inside and then quickly - and quietly - closes the door behind you.
"You should be," she shoots back now that there's some expectation of privacy between you. "What the hell were you thinking?"
Shit. She knows.
"I... I dunno. We were... just fooling around. I didn't think it would actually happen. I mean, she started it. Sh-"
You watch Carrie's eyes go wide. "What?"
"...what?" you echo, freezing in place.
"What 'happened'?" presses Carrie.
"Wait," you counter. "What? Why did... Huh?" Your brain has just spontaneously melted, liquefied by the laser beams firing from Carrie's pupils. The mush that remains can't even put a sentence together.
"I sent my girls to a sleepover so you could come over here to fuck my brains out." Carrie notes with a poke to your chest. She continues to stare up into your eyes menacingly. "And now Kylie is home. So would you mind explaining to me what it is that happened over there that you're so weirdly worried about?"
You flap your lips and shrug meekly, hard pressed to find any kind of acceptable answer now that your foot is so far in your mouth that you're gagging on it. "I-I... I dunno... what'd she say?"
"Kylie didn't say anything. Only that she wanted to come home. Which by the sounds of things is clearly bullshit. What. Happened."
Carrie waits, anger building. Is there anything you can say to make this better now? It doesn't feel like there's a good answer. "Umm... she just... got bored..."
Carrie scoffs and walks away from you, stopping sharply at the bottom of the stairs. Only with some distance between you do you notice her attire. She's wearing a modest plain white tank top with some rolled over "pink" shorts, her hair up in a ponytail. It should be an unremarkable outfit, but somehow on her it's eye catching. She probably decided to change into something comfortable after Kylie came home and she no longer expected you, but gawd is it still alluring. Carrie truly excels at looking like Kylie and Larissa's highschool sister.
"Kylie?! Get down here!"
"What?!" the girl shouts back, already brimming with attitude. "Who's here?" she asks more politely, trying to correct herself. She definitely heard the doorbell.
"Now! That's 3. 2..."
You drift closer to Carrie as you hear Kylie's stomping feet descend the stairs. When she comes into full view you do indeed get a 'full' view. In proper Kylie style she's utterly threadless, nothing save for a hairtie adorning one of her wrists. The only thing missing from this favorite outfit of hers is her cell phone. Her cheeks appear flush and ears are bright pink, and that's before she spots you. When that happens she steps much more gingerly and puts some limited amount of effort into covering her completely exposed body, but she doesn't recoil in horror or freak out which is a good sign. "Why is-"
"What were you two doing over there?" asks Carol abruptly.
"What?"
Carol pokes her daughter directly between the girl's meager little tits. "Don't play dumb... Answer me!"
Kylie looks over at you. You shake your head trying to imply that you haven't said anything (even if that's not entirely accurate) but she might think you don't want her to talk at all. Kylie pauses, donning a confused expression while considering her options.