"The Unplugged Challenge" - Sex Stories

"The Unplugged Challenge"

... drifted apart. We saw each other on the way to school, but didn’t talk much outside of texts and, once in a while, when she’d burst into my room to ask to borrow something, usually money. So maybe Krista was crazy too, but I hadn’t seen any evidence of it. Sure she had her bitchy days, her quiet days, but mostly she seemed friendly, happy, well-adjusted. She had lots of friends, and was popular. But then, when you’re friendly and good-looking, popularity often follows. b*****rs aren’t supposed to think of their s****rs like that, but she was really attractive, with a lithe, athletic body, flowing dark hair, flawless complexion, and beautiful green eyes. As far as I could tell she was just an average, though pretty, teenage girl. I kind of liked it that way. Somebody had to be the normal one in the f****y. It certainly wasn’t me. I guess in some ways I took after Mom. I was a little tightly wound, although in a different way. I was way too self-conscious. I wasn’t a bad-looking guy, but somehow I was paranoid about what everybody thought about me, and it made my life miserable. It wasn’t rational, but that made it no less real. I always felt like people were judging me, thinking the worst, which consequently made me not want to be seen at all. With girls I tended to obsess over every detail of our interaction, analyzing it for hidden motivations, no matter how innocent, and with almost anybody I was afraid of doing things that might attract undue attention. It was ridiculous. ...

... It wasn’t so bad with f****y, and gradually over years I’d come to trust a few friends enough to be comfortable with them, but the fears of what people were thinking were always there, lurking. I had no claim to normalcy. But at least Dad’s utter unflappability was just a source of amusement, and my bouts of paranoid neurosis affected me alone. Mom’s particular brand of crazy sometimes exploded and made the rest of our lives hell for a while. We’d all seen the signs before. One of them was Mom watching television all day. She seemed oblivious to the warning sign herself, though. “What?” Mom asked, as though Dad’s question had come out of nowhere. “You’ve been watching talk shows again, haven’t you?” Dad asked with a grin. “They always give you ideas.” “They do not.” But they did. Some of the worst things that could trigger Mom’s ‘causes’ were daytime talk shows. She worked a 9-5 job, so she couldn’t watch them very often, but sometimes she would have a day off and nothing to do, and would find herself watching one, and that was where the danger began… she got absorbed and took them too seriously. “Sure, Mom,” I said. “Remember that time you saw Dr. Phil talking about teen d**g abuse and you tore through both of our rooms looking for hidden stashes?” She hadn’t found any. I don’t even smoke. Krista smiled. “Or when Tyra Banks had a show on sexting, and you took my cell phone looking for dirty pictures?” “My favorite,” Dad said, a twinkle in his eye, “was when she watched Maury ...