A Howie visual

Tomorrow my sister's getting married. I can't believe my independent sister is "settling". Or it could be that she really loves this guy and really wants to spend the rest of her life with him, have his kids, grow old with him, etc.

Excuse me for seeming bitter, but it's been a while since I was in a relationship. People keep asking me when I'm going to settle down. My family, my friends, reporters, fans. The whole freakin' world wants to know when the hell Howard Dwaine Dorough is going to make some lucky young lady very, very happy.

Enough already!

Damn! I just want to get through this stupid ritual in one piece. I am starting to hate weddings. Two years ago, I witnessed Brian getting married. Last year, it was Kevin. Now, it's Pollyanna. Who's next? Aaron Carter?

I might as well face it; I will be the last man on the planet to get married. And when I do, I'm eloping. I refuse to make my loved ones run around like chickens with their heads cut off like I've had to so many times. There will be no "big Catholic wedding". Sorry to disappoint the many people who've read that famous quote a thousand times.

**********************

I park my car in front of my parents' house and ring the doorbell. My mom answers it. She seems very cheerful. Is she really or is she faking it in order to maintain her sanity?

"Howard," she says hugging me. She's squeezing too hard.

"Can't breathe," I croak. She lets me go and smoothes down my shirt. Once my shirt is smooth, she keeps smoothing it. She's about to loose it, I can tell. Poor Mom. I grab her hands to make her stop stroking my shirt.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" I ask.

"Yes!" she says, a little too enthusiastically. She grabs my wrists and pulls me through the kitchen and out the back door. My dad and John are setting up the canopy.

"Hey lil' bro," says John. "Start setting up the chairs." I do so without question. In the Dorough family, when someone gives you a job to do, you do it and you don't complain. Besides, this is for Polly's wedding. It's a special occasion and it's important to me.

My mom disappears inside, I hope she has enough to do to keep her busy.

About five minutes and ten chairs later, my mom reemerges from the house, followed by three people; Mr. and Mrs. Bustamante, close friends of the family, and their daughter, Raquel.

Mr. and Mrs. Bustamante say hello to my dad, John and me. We wave. Raquel just stands there with a prissy little smirk on her face. She can go to hell.

***************

Raquel is the same age as me. When we were kids, we got along fine. That is, until we were fourteen and I tried to kiss her.

My siblings used to tease us, saying that eventually we'd get married. The also used to call us the twins. We have the same birthday, and we have the same black, frizzy hair. We would just laugh at them and go on about our business. She was a tomboy back then and she taught me to climb trees and ride a skateboard.

But on our fourteenth birthday, I noticed something different about her. She looked like a girl. Not just any girl but a pretty girl. At some point during the party our parents planned for us, we managed to be alone in the backyard. I told her she looked nice and she said 'thank you'. I leaned over to kiss her and she slapped my face. Hard!

And of course, John decided on that moment to come looking for us. He would not stop laughing for the rest of the day. I was scarred for life.

Over the years, whenever we saw the Bustamantes, I avoided Raquel like the plague. She did likewise. Polly once asked me what happened to the twins. I told her that Raquel and I had "grown apart" and left it at that. Of course, I still had to endure good-natured ribbing about being secretly in love with Raquel. John would give me this dumb ass smirk whenever someone mentioned it.

*******************

"Need any help, guys?" asks Mr. Bustamante.

"Sure, you can help Howard set up the chairs," says Dad. Raquel and her mother follow mom back inside the house. I look up and notice that Raquel has dyed her black hair blonde. Whatever.

Later that afternoon there's the wedding rehearsal. The wedding is taking place at the church Polly and I grew up in. She'll be married by the same priest that gave her First Communion and her Confirmation. My parents are dropping a ton of money on this shindig.

Everyone is there, the Doroughs, Jason, Polly's fiancée, and his family, and various friends of both families. The ushers and the bridesmaids assemble at the back of the church to practice walking down the aisle. Just my luck, I'm paired with Raquel. John, who's standing in front of me and next to Jason's sister, Stephanie, turns around and gives me that God-awful smirk.

"Don't even start," I hiss at him. He turns back around. I ignore Raquel as we proceed down the aisle to the strains of the wedding march.

At the rehearsal dinner, everyone has a little too much to drink, except my mom, Mrs. Bustamante and Raquel. Mom and Mrs. Bustamante are too engrossed in conversation to pay any attention to the dirty jokes Jason is telling. Pollyanna pretends to be amused and laughs along. Raquel looks at everyone disapprovingly. To hell with her. If she doesn't like what's going on, she can leave.

"I'd like to propose a toast," says John. He can barely stand up he's so drunk. "Not to the lovely bride and groom, but to this cute little couple right here!" He points to me. I turn to see Raquel sitting beside me, glaring at John. How did she get in the seat next to me? I thought I'd made a point of sitting clear across the room.

"Howie and Raquel will be the next to get married!" he shouts. Everyone hoots and hollers; even Jason's family and friends who don't even know us. I look over at Raquel again; she's not there. I catch a glimpse of her storming out of the room.

Not only are Raquel and I not amused, but neither is Polly.

"That's enough John," she says. He and Polly make eye contact and he calmly sits down.

After the dinner, the ladies head off the bachelorette party and the guys head off the bachelor party. I opt out. Mom won't let me drive home because I'd been drinking.

"Sleep at the house, mi'jo," she pleads. "I don't want you getting into an accident."

"Fine ma," I tell her. I really don't feel like driving anyway. I decide not to remind her that John had been drinking and is throwing his car keys up in the air and trying to catch them. One of Jason's brothers, who's the most sober out of all the guys, offers to drive a bunch of the guys to the strip joint. John takes him up on his offer. Mom would be very relieved.

I ride in my parents' car back to the house. Assuming that I would be sleeping in my old room, I fling open the door and turn on the light.

"Hey!" yells a female voice. I look at the bed; Raquel is peeking out from under the covers. My parents let her have my room for the weekend. I turn out the lights, close the door and walk down the hall to my parents' room. I knock on the door.

"Yes?" says my mom from behind the door.

"Where am I supposed to sleep?" I ask. Mom comes to the door and opens it. She's in her pajamas.

"Let's see," she says. "The Bustamantes are in Polly's room, Angie and her husband are in Angie's room, John might come back, in which case, he's gonna wanna use his room…"

"Never mind," I tell her. "I'll open the sofabed in the living room."

"That's an idea," says Mom.

"Uh, HUH!" I huff as I make my way downstairs.

I sleep fitfully. I can't believe my mom let Raquel have my room. I get out of bed and go into the kitchen. I get a glass of milk and sit at the table. I'm about to take a sip when I notice someone coming into the kitchen. It's Raquel.

I try to ignore her but it's not easy. She's wearing a white tank top and shorts that reveal the very bottom part of her ass. Even when I've avoided talking to her, I could never ignore that nice ass.

Without a word to me, she walks over to the refrigerator, opens it, and takes out a slice of watermelon. She sits at the table across from me and starts nibbling on the watermelon. I find that I can't take my eyes off her wet lips. My eyes travel downward and rest on her breasts. It's a little cold in the kitchen, I can tell by the way her pointy nipples poke out under her top. I think I'm going to pass out.

"Howie?" she says. Startled, I look up at her. The ice queen is talking to me!

"Uh, yea?" I reply, sounding like a dolt.

"What's shakin'?" she giggles. That was the greeting we used with each other when we were like, eleven. Now, it seems to have taken on a different meaning. 'Nothing's shakin',' I think to myself. 'But I know what I'd like to see shakin'.'

"I'm doing okay," I say. "And you?"

"I'm good," she says. She puts her watermelon slice down and stares at me.

"What," I say. "I got a milk mustache?"

"Will you kiss me?" she asks. What the hell?

"Don't mess with me," I tell her.

"I'm not messin'," she says. "I want a kiss." Her big brown eyes are boring right into me.

"The last time I tried to kiss you, I got hit," I remind her.

"I'm sorry," she says, pouting. Sorry? After all these years, she's sorry?

"And for the next fourteen years, we haven't said two words to each other," I says.

"I've wanted to talk to you," she says. "But you always ignored me. And then when you became famous, I figured you didn't want anything to do with me." She looks very sincere as she says this. I start to chuckle.

"Raquel," I say, shaking my head. "I've always wanted to talk to you, but how am I supposed to initiate a conversation with someone who's hit me? Especially a girl."

"And how do I apologize to someone who won't even look at me?" she says.

"Oh, I've been looking at you over the years," I tell her. "I've tried not to, but it's been difficult." I can't believe I just said that. Why did I say that?

"I've caught you looking but I always told myself it was just my imagination," she says.

"Raquel," I say, looking directly at her. "You're very attractive, no matter what color your hair is or how mean you've been to me in the past." Hey, who put truth serum in the milk?

She walks around to my side of the table and stands before me. She gives me a dazzling smile.

"You really think I'm attractive?" she says. I look up and try to stay focused on her face, but my eyes keep wandering down to her breasts. The nipples are still peeking out from under her shirt.

"Sure I do," sounding like the dorky fourteen-year-old I once was. "I always have." Without warning, she sits on my lap, facing me. Instinctively, I put my arms around her waist. She puts her hands on either side of my face and kisses me. I can't help but kiss back. Her mouth is still a little cold from the watermelon. If feels nice.

"Thanks for the kiss," she says, flirtatiously as soon as we break apart.

"You're welcome," I say, dazed. She takes my hands and puts them under her shirt. Her breasts feel warm.

"Wanna go up to your room?" She asks. Is this a dream? She grabs my wrists and pulls me out of the chair. I guess not.

I can't help but watch her ass as she climbs the stairs ahead of me. She must know I'm looking because she shakes it in my face a little.

As soon as we get in my room, I close the door and lock it. Raquel stands across the room and smiles at me. I walk over to her just as she pulls her shirt up over her head and lets it fall to the floor. Her breasts are…well, pretty. I can't think of any other word to describe them. They're perfectly round and the nipples and areoli are just a slightly darker brown than her skin.

"Touch them," she whispers. "Play with them." I place my hands on her breasts and massage them. She lets out a little moan that sounds like a cat purring. My breathing is so heavy, it sounds like I'd been running a marathon.

Raquel reaches down and pulls down my boxers, as she does this, she crouches down. My erection sticks straight out and almost hits her in the face. She giggles.

"Shh," I whisper, almost giggling too. "My mom." She stops giggling and takes my penis in her mouth. She gently sucks the head and I'm in ecstasy. It's as if one of my favorite masturbation fantasies as an adolescent has come to life. Especially since Raquel was the star of that one.

Soon, she's got it all the way in her mouth. Her cheeks are sunken in as she sucks on my penis hard. I think I'm going to pass out. I gasp for air, she lets go. She pulls off her shorts and lies down on the bed. She has on nothing but a white thong. My erection practically points at her from where I'm standing.

Without thinking, I walk over to the bed and pull off Raquel's thong. Obediently, she spreads her legs for me and starts fingering her clit. I slip out of my boxers and I'm totally naked.

Moving her hand away, I work her clit with my tongue. She grabs a pillow and places it over her face. I can hear her muffled squeals. Soon, her juice is dribbling on my chin. I can hardly believe I'm eating out the ice queen.

"Fuck me," Raquel says from under the pillow. It takes me a while to figure out what she's saying, since her voice is muffled. I take the pillow off her face.

"What about protection?" I ask.

"I'm on the pill," she tells me.

"Oh, okay, good," I reply. I start to enter her slowly.

"We don't have time for that, just shove it in," she whispers impatiently. I do as I'm told. She wraps her legs tightly around my waist. I grab the headboard and she grabs onto my wrists. I fuck her fast and hard. The bedsprings are squeaking. Shit!

I look down at Raquel, her eyes are tightly shut and she's biting her lip to keep from crying out. I cum inside her, collapsing as I pulsate. Soon she's juicing up my penis again. Our breathing returns to normal and we just fall asleep as we are.

The next morning, I wake up and Raquel's not there. I put on my boxers and go into the bathroom. My clothes from yesterday afternoon are still hanging on the back of the bathroom door.

Once I'm clean and dressed, I go downstairs. I pass the living room and see the pieces of my tux in a heap on the easy chair.

As I enter the kitchen, my mom is standing next to the sink with her arms folded across her chest. She doesn't look happy. Raquel is sitting at the kitchen table in her bathrobe and eating cereal.

I want to die right about now.

"Howard," my mother snaps. "When I came down here this morning, I saw a half a glass of mike and a half eaten slice of watermelon. Now, today of all days, I don't need this. Don't you know that if you leave food out overnight, it attracts roaches? I'm expecting about fifty people in my house and yard for the reception…"

I tune her out as she drones on, occasionally nodding to make her think I'm listening. I glance over at Raquel.

She looks up at me, smiles and winks.