Chapter 3 Forgot To Make Use Of A Cond*M (R18)

• "What? You didn't wear protection! Sylvester!"
• "I am sorry. I forgot."
• "Liar!"
• "Look, it's not a big deal. Take some morning after pill and you will be fine. I have to go now." He said as he exited the tent and headed for where he packed his bike.
• I was angry but what could I possibly do?
• I shrugged it off and started packing up the tent. The most important thing was that I would be able to sleep properly tonight. Without a proper orgasm in a day, my nights are usually very long unless I use some sleeping drug.
• I derive no pleasure from coming to the greenhouse with Riley away in school, but dropping off these flower pots is my responsibility and basically my only formerly registered contribution to the family business. I do help out with sales on good days or when a staff member needs to take a break. Not because I want to but because I am supposed to.
• Normally, I let the flower pots pile up till almost half of the total is sold before moving them back to the greenhouse at our farm where our house is also located. But there is always an open air farmers' market that happens every three months in my town. This market is the best place to get everything Arizona has to offer at the cheapest price, therefore, there is always a nice turn up.
• The next one is just a month away so Dad instructed that I should start returning empty flower pots to the greenhouse everyday instead of every three weeks.
• Now this is where the problem is.
• Even though our house is on the farm, the farm is sitting on more than 80 acres of land, making it one of the top 20 biggest farmlands in America and the travel time between the farms and the main house is farther than the distance between the farm and the township. What this means for me is that everyday, for the past one year since I graduated high school, I have to do a 20 mins drive to town to pick up about a hundred or less number of flower pots of different sizes, drive another 20 minutes back to the farm, then head for the greenhouse which is 2 hours away from the main house to park the truck of flower pots before driving another two hours back to my house in my car that I usually park at the farm every evening or morning depending on when I decide to do the runs.
• It's okay when I have to do it just once in a month but anytime a farmer's open market comes around, I have to do this everyday till the open market ends. This chore is draining and upsetting unless Riley returns from school for his summer break. And then there is Sylvester from the mall. At least I get to see him everyday instead of once in three weeks.
• By the time I finished gathering up the tent, Slyvester was long gone so I entered my truck and drove back to the crossroad before heading for home. I checked and the time was a few minutes past nine. Right there, I decided that I would be taking the pots to the greenhouse in the morning.
• Getting home, I got scolded by Dad for taking so long and he has this ongoing rant about how if I had gone to town all afternoon, things would have gotten done quickly and the workers wouldn't have to be stressed out of their beds in the morning to start offloading my truck of pots. He even threatened that if I don't sit up and take the work seriously, he would have me do the loading and unloading myself. This rant happens every time a farmer's open market event is approaching till it ends so I am immune to it.
• After that, he went on about how mum could ever have thoughts of giving me the lavender fields since I am so irresponsible.
• First none of these rants gets to me because, I can't kill myself.
• Secondly, I have zero interest in running a florist shop or becoming a lavender farmer. Once I get out of this shallow, mind numbing hell hole, I am going to become an accountant and work for a bank in Newyork. Contrary to my promise to take over the flower business after getting my first BA, I plan to leave and never come back.
• Everything I know, I know by always sneaking after my brother Daniel.
• I found out the pleasure of sexual intercourse through him. I know not to do drugs after witnessing him overdosing several times before he was later sent for rehab. He is now in school doing his PHD but still very much a druggie. And I learnt not to talk back to Daddy through him.
• Daniel wanted to be a medical doctor but Dad needed an heir so he was forced to study agriculture and some other relevant courses.
• Just like Daddy picked his courses for him, he also picked Business management and accounting for me.
• Of the two, I am interested in only one and I refused to tell him my plans unlike Daniel who was raging about how he would register for his course of choice only for Daddy to use his connections to block him from getting admission into any relevant school.
• I wonder what would happen if Daniel knew that all his failed attempts at getting admission as a medical student was all Dad's doing. He had waited 5 years and later gave it up to do what Dad wanted him to do. And now he is away in school, doing his father's bidding.
• As for me, all the foolish things he did, like talking back at Dad, arguing with Mum, making threats and constituting a nuisance, I made sure not to do them except smoking weed.
• Well, I have never seen anybody overdose on that.