A teenage boy's normal struggles with growing up are complicated by his porn brain and pantie fetish, or at least that's what he thinks. There might be more to the story.
Disclaimers: This is a creative, nonfiction story based on actual events. All names, locations and time-lines have been changed to protect the guilty. I have also added details and events to make it a good story while maintaining anonymity.
Yes, the story starts slow. That is out of respect for anyone the story is based on or anyone reading who has been in a similar situation. In real life these things take years to develop. If you only want to read about sex, then the first part of this story isn't for you. Skip ahead to later chapters when the action gets going. The beginning is all about character and plot development.
Evil Secrets in the Girl's Club
The next morning, Evan had a blank slate to work with. There was nothing like a good night sleep to clear the mind. He wasn't thinking about racing, Gloria's panties, her tits or his mom doing laundry. It was Friday, and even though he had to go to school, school had a different vibe on Friday, especially when the school year was almost over. Plus, his talk with Deana had helped him, not just because of her idea to talk to Cindy, it was more than that. She had done something for him that he didn't even understand, but he had more hope.
When he reached the kitchen, he remember the thing he didn't even want to think about. It wasn't right to think about your parents having sex. He wanted his beautiful step-mom to be treated like the goddess she was, she deserved that much, and he didn't think his father did that, so he didn't deserve to have sex with her. Compassion and anger were a dangerous emotional cocktail.
Candy was standing at the sink washing dishes. His father's car was already gone. “Good morning, Mom,” he said, and put his hands on her shoulders.
Candy said, “Good morning,” but didn't look at him.
It wasn't until his hands started massaging that he realized it had been too long since he'd touched her that way. When she groaned and rolled her head, he remembered why it had been so long. Last time, the energy that flowed from her into his hands made him nervous, and the sensual sway of his mom's body had frightened him. It was happening again, but he wasn't nervous or frightened, he embraced it, and treated her the way she deserved to be treated. She was a wonderful woman, and his first crush.
“Mm, Evan,” Candy said, “thank you. That feels so good. You have magic hands.”
His mother's voice snapped him out of the trance he was in and he was embarrassed by the thoughts he'd been enjoying. If his father was in the same zip code, he'd never touch her that way. “It's the least I can do considering all you do for me,” he said.
“You must want something,” she said.
“No, that's not it, I'm just a great son.” He worked harder with his hands. “Oh, me and Deana were talking and she wanted to know if you had pictures from when we were kids.”
“You're still kids,” she said, and took a long pause. “I'll think about it.”
He knew he made her uncomfortable by her flat tone and the tightening of her shoulders, so he let it drop. Had she thought they didn't think of her as their real mother?
“Me next,” Deana said.
Evan was glad Deana showed up and yanked his hands away from Candy's neck. “Oh, no,” he said. “I think your foot gets enough massages already. Mom, you know she makes me rub her nasty feet when I'm driving her.”
“Really,” Candy said, and turned. “I wish I had someone to rub my feet. You're a lucky girl, Deana.”
“Jeez,” he said, and shivered at the thought of rubbing his mom's feet, then one side of her bathrobe bowed out and for a second he thought he saw it. Could he have actually seen the brown ring of her nipple? “It figures you'd say that. Girl's club, I guess.”
“You're a good brother,” she said, and stroked his cheek.
“He's all right, for a brother,” Deana said, and chuckled.
“Whatever,” he said. “Come on, lets go or I'll be late and the Wicked Witch of Homeroom will burn me at the stake.” He needed to get the hell away from the vibe his mother was putting out.
The bathroom door was partially open and Jason could see Becky at the sink, brushing her teeth. Her back was to him and her night shirt only reached to the creases at the top of her thighs. He thought about turning away, but all that talk about Deana's underwear made him stay. Becky leaned over to spit and rinse her mouth. Jason held his breath. Her shirt lifted, her ass pushed back and her cheeks parted. Suddenly, where there had been nothing a second ago, his sister's pussy appeared like a target for his penis. As she leaned in to suck some water from the tap, her pussy-lips gave up their tight seal and showed him that pink spot where he'd shove his cock into her. The moist, inner meat glistened and mocked his growing dick. Walk away, he told himself, and continued to stare. His sister had developed a beautiful, fat pussy.
Becky turned towards the toilet and pulled her shirt up to her waist. He held his breath. Her white ass cheeks and the even whiter gap between them made him want to shout, turn in a circle, then kneel down to kiss it, lick it and worship her ass.
His sister's crotch pushed forward and a stream of piss splashed into the water. It got him even more excited. It was amazing how much piss could blast out of such a skinny girl. He was glad she still had a thing about standing up and pissing. He had always loved to watch her pee.
The abrupt end of blasting piss was followed by a short burst and two quick splashes. Becky stiffened, grabbed her crotch, roughly swished her hand back-and-forth, then shivered. After standing there frozen for a few seconds, she sucked her fingers. Had he just seen her getting off and tasting her own fluids?
Jason retreated to his room, where he'd have to spank his monkey, thinking about the time Becky stood like that and pissed on Paula Dunkin's book-bag at the bus stop, while everyone watched. She told him Paula deserved it for lying about her, but he suspected it was more fun than payback. Maybe one day he'd ask her about it.
On the way to school, Becky sat sideways on the back seat of the bus with her legs stretched across the seat. She was holding the spot for one of the older girls who got on the bus later. That was expected of her, but she didn't resent it, or any of the other things she had to do. Being someone's Bitch had it's advantages, especially when that person could help her fulfill her fantasies and achieve her goals. She could hardly wait to talk about the teeth brushing incident. It baffled her that her brother hadn't cracked yet. She'd really been turning it on lately, making sure Jason knew what she had, but always in an innocent, “Oops, did I show my ass,” kind of a way. He was determined to honor his promise to their mother, but she knew he was looking at her differently. It was just a matter of time now.
At School, lunch period came quickly for Evan. All morning his teachers reviewed for finals and he thought about his mother and how she had responded to his hands. Was she offering to let him rub her feet? He was sorry he'd asked about the past and spoiled a perfect moment. She'd told him at least twice that their father didn't want them to think about the past.
Jason waved to him from a table at the back of the cafeteria. Evan sat down and said, “What's up, Dude? You awake?”
“Yeah, mostly,” Jason said. “Long night studying.”
Evan laughed. “You mean you were chatting with horny housewives all night, again?”
Jason smiled. “Something like that. Did you bring me any panties?”
“Jeez, not that again,” he said. “No panties, never any panties, forget I mentioned panties.”
Jason rolled his eyes. “Like that's possible. You brought up your sister's underwear, the material that touches her pussy, and you expect me to forget about it. Shit, you fucked up my mind. That's all I could think about last night, you fucking your sister.”
“Don't say that,” Evan said. “It's not like that. I don't picture her in them or think about her, it's just a weird fetish, I guess. Maybe all those herbs I've been experimenting with are messing up my mind, like when jocks get on steroids and they don't realize they're changing. I swear I get hard all the time and for no reason.”
“Are you serious?” Jason said. “That's called being a teenager. Hey, have you ever seen your sister's pussy?”
“No, never,” he said.
Jason said, “Do you expect me to believe you cum in her underwear, probably squirt right on that patch where her pussy lips go, and you don't think that's because you wanta do her? Like you're not imagining how it would feel to be inside her.”
He heard Jason's words loop through his head, each time they scared him more. “That's what you think, what you think you would do, but only because she's not your sister,” he said. Why the hell did Jason want him to do his sister?
“I'm just being real,” Jason said. “You must want to. I would. You're twins, can't you tell if she'd be into it? She can't date, so you're the only guy around. It's you or go lesbo.”
“It's not like we share a brain or can read minds,” he said. “Not that it matters anyway, she's my sister. I wouldn't even be able to sport wood. It just wouldn't work.”
“That's what would make it so good...she's your sister,” Jason said. “At least get a blow job.”
“I'm worried about you,” he said. “Let's talk about something else. Hey, I might get to race...”
After school, Evan waited by his car for his sister. Rebecca's voice pierced the air from across the parking lot. Deana's long black hair was trailing behind her on the breeze and the gymnast, Rebecca, was walking backwards talking to her.
As they approached, Deana said, “Driver, take me and my guest to the palace,” then with the back of her hand pressed to her forehead, she blew out a long swish of air. “Why have you not already opened our doors? It shall be terribly hot and we might break a sweat.”
Evan glared at his sister, then played along. “My Lady,” he said, “such a thing shall never happen again. Please spare my head from the guillotine.” They laughed and got into the car. Friday was always more fun. He had a feeling it was going to be a great weekend.
He closed his door and started the car. Rebecca's hands circled his neck and he looked at her in the mirror. “Did you get me a big surprise yet?” she asked, her grip tightening.
He shrugged against her soft hands. “I've got a big surprise right here for you,” he said.
“Ooh.” She giggled. “Is it bigger than a carrot but smaller than a cucumber?”
“Rebecca!” Deana slapped her friend's arm. “Don't encourage him. You'll be sorry.”
Evan said, “I might get you something, if you're good.”
“Highly unlikely,” Deana said. “Come on, let's go.”
By the time they reached Rebecca's house, he had listened enough to know Deana was spending the night there. He was glad it wasn't the other way around because he didn't trust himself with the soft handed, dirty minded gymnast. “What are y'all going to do tonight,” he asked.
“Wouldn't you like to know?” Deana said.
“Not really, I was just making conversation,” he said. “Probably be boring.” He faked a yawn.
“We'll probably be making out,” Rebecca said.
“Shut up, Reb.” Deana opened her door and got out. “Watch yourself, he'll try and sneak-a-peek at your underwear.”
Rebecca slid forward. “If you want to see my panties, all you have to do is ask.” She lifted her skirt for a full count of three, then jumped out of the car.
“See,” Deana said, “I told you she couldn't be good.”
Evan leaned across the car and said, “You two wouldn't dare kiss.”
“Oh yeah,” Deana said.
When the kiss ended, Rebecca and Evan were silent. Deana looked at her brother and said, “You look like you're catching flies. Close your mouth.”
He said, “Nice acting. I gotta go.” It didn't look like acting and the tumbler seemed as surprised as he was.
Evan squealed the tires, and he was gone. Rebecca said,“Wow, you really showed him.”
Deana grinned. “That'll give the perv something to think about.”
“Um, yeah, I bet he'll be doing a lot more than thinking.”
Deana faced Rebecca and took her hands in hers. “I'm sorry if I—I guess I shouldn't have done that in your front yard.”
“No, it's fine,” Rebecca said. “It just surprised me because I'm the one who acts out. You're the good girl, remember.”
“Just because my father doesn't let me wear makeup or have a boyfriend, doesn't mean I can't be a little bad, some of the time.”
“Mm, I hope so.” Rebecca said. “It's too bad I don't have a hot brother here for us to be bad with?”
“Rebecca, you promised,” Deana said. “If you two hook up and it doesn't work out then it'll mess things up.”
“And if it did work out, then you wouldn't have me to make out with.”
“I'm gonna slap you.”
“Sorry,” Rebecca said. “If I had a brother I'd let you fool around with him. If he looked like Evan I might even join in.”
“'You're as bad as Evan,” Deana said. “Do you really think you would do something with your own brother, if you had one?”
“I can't really say,” Rebecca said, “but you can. Does Evan have a—”She made quotes in the air with her fingers—“good personality?” That was their idiom for a big penis.
“How should I know,” Deana said. “He's my brother.”
“Exactly,” Rebecca said, “you live with him. You got plenty of opportunities to find out.”
“All I'm gonna say is, you wouldn't wanta let him put it where you let Bobby James put his.”
“I didn't want to get pregnant,” Rebecca said, defensively. “Did you see it? I mean was he hard when you saw it? I've seen the bulge in his pants and I'd say he has a great personality.”
“I didn't say I saw it!”
“Than how do you know? Don't hold out on me or I'll have to find out for myself.”
“In the car, when he was rubbing my foot. I thought my foot was on his leg, but it kept growing and it jerked.”
“OMG!” Rebecca said ,and shuffled her feet. “You got him hard with your foot. That must have been wild. Did you keep rubbing it?”
“I wasn't ever rubbing it and he might have been hard already from seeing your panties. It was after we dropped you off. I moved my foot as soon as I realized what it was,” she lied. What if Rebecca knew she listened outside the bathroom door while Evan came in her panties?
At Home Evan reached his house in record time, still thinking about his sister and Rebecca. There was something about two girls kissing, real girls, not chicks on the Internet, that made his blood boil. His sister and Rebecca, wow, the potential. No, not Deana, he thought, she's a good girl. The worst kind, one that had no idea how gorgeous she was.
He found his mom at the kitchen sink, peeling potatoes. He thought about going straight to the bathroom, but detoured instead. "Are you making dinner?”
"Yes," his mom said. "Why?"
He stood behind her and said, “Candy,” over and over in his head. That's how he was thinking of her lately, as Candy. His mouth went dry. Her pants were painted on, dividing each sphere of her glorious ass. "Why not order pizza? Dad went to Atlanta for the weekend, right?" He felt guilty for staring at her butt cleavage. Two perfect halves of a wonderful whole, divided by a deep groove.
"I had pork chops defrosted." She continued rinsing a potato.
"Darn, pizza is like a-thousand times better than pork chops."
"Sorry," she said, “too late.”
He slipped his hands under her arms and mimicked her washing motion. "Want help?"
“Sure,” she said.
Evan wished he hadn't tried to be cute. It's nothing, he told himself. It's just her sides. But ribs didn't feel like that, or make him tingle. He'd hugged her like that before and never felt her breasts that way. They bulged out past the sides of her body and caressed his forearms. He knew he should have taken his arms back, but he tightened his muscles so they sank deeper into the soft, mysterious flesh. Wasn't that the same as intentionally touching her tits?
"Wash up first," she said, and grabbed his hands, pulling them under the hot water.
The water burned him, but he didn't pull back. Her hands intertwined with his. Her soapy fingers glided between his, dipping deep into the webbing. Her thumbs pushed into the curves of his palms. He gulped air when he realized he wasn't breathing. Move back, just back up, back away, he told himself. He left his groin nestled against the inward slope of his mom's lower back. His penis pulsed, growing with his guilt. The outward push of her rump contour to his body. His throbbing balls were resting in the gap at the top of her butt. Could she feel him?
"You peel the rest of these and cut them into cubes," she said.
Surprised by her voice, he gasped. "Ah, okay."
"I have something to finish up. I'll do the mashing after," she said. "Thank you, I appreciate it."
"No problem." He watched her walk towards her room, her giant breasts swishing under a thin blouse, bra-less. He was going to faint.
Later on, Evan hadn't fainted, but he did cut himself twice while peeling the potatoes. When he was done, he went straight to his room without bothering to whack off his unyielding boner. His cousin, Cindy, was into meditation. She said it made her a better race car driver, being able to clear her mind of all thoughts. Evan sat in his desk chair and took several long, calming breaths, but meditation wasn't working. His thoughts spun like a tornado and his emotions were the flying debris that smashed everything in it's path.
He had been calling her “Mom” for years, and always thought of her that way. Why was he suddenly seeing her as Candy again? What had changed? He pictured Jason's mother, she was sexy in her own way, and he wouldn't turn her down if she wanted to have sex with him, but he was sure Jason didn't massage her or get hard for her. It wasn't the erection, it was the emotions, the feelings and that powerful desires that went along with it. He had been out of his mind and could have crossed a line in the blink of an eye, a line that would have changed his life forever.
The knock on his door startled him. "Come in, Gloria," he said. He spun his chair towards the door. "What?"
She stood in front of him looking down at her feet. "Um." She didn't look up.
"What is it?" he asked. "What's wrong?"
"Dad said," she lifted her head, "if you didn't coddle me all the time I'd be better at softball."
"Oh," he said, and pulled her onto his lap.
She laid her head on his shoulder, and it was his baby-girl again. "How come he doesn't like me?" Her breath warmed his neck.
"Don't say that. Of course he does." He moved her face in front of his and looked her in the eyes. They were so blue he could have gotten lost in them. "He just wants you to be strong when you grow up, and don't worry, I'm never going to stop coddling you."
"I love you," she said, and pressed her lips against his.
When she finally pulled away, her cheeks were flushed. She said, “Thank you. You always make me feel better."
What the hell was that? He needed to talk to Deana, she understood these things, girl things. He went back to trying to figure out what to do about his mother. What if she'd felt him?
At Rebecca's House, Deana and Rebecca entered Rebecca's bedroom, giddy from excessive amounts of junk food and soda. Rebecca held her fingers in the air like a magician. "Shazam," she said, and pushed in the button on her doorknob, "access denied."
"Don't rub it in," Deana said. Would a lock really make her life any better?
“Sorry,” Rebecca said.
“Hey, Reb, ya know what we talked about earlier—”
“I told you, there's nothing to worry about,” Rebecca said, “I'll never tell anyone you jerked your brother off with your foot.”
“I'm going to kill you,” Deana said. She wished she'd never mentioned it. Telling Rebecca had linked the incidental contact and listening outside the bathroom door in her mind. It had turned a spotlight on the thoughts she'd been having, on the truth, the true nature of her evil desires. She would burn in hell, wouldn't she?
“Maybe before you end my life,” Rebecca said, “You can finish what you started out front?”
Rebecca stepped forward, their toes touched and so did their chests. Deana's nipples sparkled with sensation. She looked into those big, green eyes. Rebecca's lips quivered and so did hers. She pressed her lips to Rebecca's, closed her eyes and tilted her head. Her tongue darted out tentatively and Rebecca's mouth opened. She dove in, plunging her tongue inside another girl's mouth. It was more exciting than kissing a boy, not that she knew much about that.
Rebecca's hands clamped down on her ass and it shot a bolt of electricity into her crotch. Their passion flared and she grabbed Rebecca's firm athletic ass and forced their groins together. Rebecca moaned into her mouth, and sucked her tongue hard while inching backwards, pulling her along. Rebecca broke the kiss and sat on the bed behind her.
"I'm sorry, Rebecca, I, ah, I got—"
"Shh, don't say anything,” Rebecca said, her ankles hooked behind Deana's calves, locking her legs to the side of the bed. Something had changed between them, she saw it in Rebecca's eyes. She combed her fingers through Rebecca's hair and stared into her eyes. It was a defining moment, a point of no return, and she was terrified.
Deana inhaled sharply when Rebecca's lips touched her stomach. The tongue circling her belly button caused goosebumps to race down her legs. “Rebecca,” she said, “what are you doing?”
Rebecca looked up and said, “Let me.”
She had never felt so alive or alert. Her senses crackled and her body buzzed. Rebecca willfully stared into her eyes, tracing the top edge of her sweatpants with an index finger. Her abs tightened and she whispered, “Reb.”
“It's okay,” Rebecca said.
She was pretty sure it wasn't okay, but she didn't have the power nor desire to make it stop. Rebecca's eyes were demanding, yet passionately loving, and Deana knew she'd let her BFF do whatever she wanted, no-matter how terrified she was. The hands holding her shirt halfway up her stomach, her own hands, lifted the shirt up over her head without asking permission. Her pink, cotton-puff nipple sacks swelled and pulsated.
Rebecca leaned forward and Deana stared at the top of her head. Wet lips pressed against that space between the top of her sweats and her belly-button. It was flesh that had never felt such sensitive warmth. The hot, wet tip of Rebecca's tongue was moving down, down and further down. It had only dropped a short distance, but in Deana's mind it took a lifetime to reach the top of her pants. “Ah...Rebecca.”
The drawstring around her waist tightened on her hip bones, cutting in, then the bow that held her sweatpants in place seemed to vibrate into her groin as it pulled apart. The coolness of the room's air slapped her on the ass and rushed between her legs. She realized moisture from her pussy had seeped down her inner thighs. Rebecca's hands tightened and her fingers dug into the fleshy cushions of her ass. She couldn't do this, couldn't let it happened. She wanted to push her friend's head away from the slippery mess between her legs. “What, ah, what are you—”
Rebecca's gaze silenced her. She pulled her foot out of her pants and widened her stance to make room for the pint-sized gymnast, who was sliding down off the bed. It was a nasty way for a young lady to present herself, spread open, vulnerable, and exposed. Shame and embarrassment should have demanded she stop it from happening, but a puff of air from Rebecca's mouth pushed her into another realm where her father's voice couldn't be heard.
A million sparks tingled just inside her pussy lips and spread up into her body deeper than her fingers had ever reached. She panted, feeling each taunting breath her friend released. Rebecca's eyes had never been as big or as green as they were now, staring up from below her black bush. The long lashes blinked slowly, then it happened. Nothing she'd ever done to herself had felt so wonderful. The same sensual tongue that had probed her mouth and danced with her own tongue was licking her inflamed labia.
“Ahhh, oh sheeit,” she gasped. Nobody had ever touched her ass the way Rebecca was fondling it. Fingernails raked down her cheeks, followed the curvature of her ass and continued down her inner thighs. “Oh, god.” She closed her eyes and threw her head back, unable to comprehend what was happening between her legs. The probing, snaking motion of Rebecca's tongue at the mouth of her pussy tube ripped her mind apart. Her body was out of her control. Her hands pawed at her own tits, twisting their silky crowns."Oh, oh, oh, god," she cried out.
Deana didn't want to climax on her friend's face, inside her mouth, but she rocked, dipped and ground her cunt on the lashing tongue, searching for release. Should she warn Rebecca when it was coming, give her a chance to get out of the way? She thought she should, but instead she begged, “Oh, yes, yes, make me cum...”
Rebecca's hands gripped her ass with incredible force and pulled her face up into Deana's pussy, ramming her tongue deep inside. Deana had never been so removed from reality and she never wanted to come back. Nothing existed except her pussy, Rebecca's mouth and the orgasm that threatened to knock her off her feet. It exploded violently, shaking her from head to toe, then her toes curled and she fell forward onto the bed. Her body coiled up into a ball and she wept.
The warm, softness of Rebecca's naked body wrapped around her like a blanket, and her lips touched her ear. “Didn't you like it?” she whispered.
Deana said, “I did.”
“So did I,” Rebecca said, and kissed the back of her neck.
"Have you, um, have you ever done that before?"
"Oh, about a million times," Rebecca said, "in my fantasies."
“I swear, I've never...I can't even move,” Deana said. “I don't think I've ever gone off like that. I was gonna kill you, but you killed me.”
Rebecca said, “Don't worry, I'll give you a chance to kill me.”
At Home, Evan blew out a long breath and considered calling Jason, again. He'd tried working out, watching TV and listening to music, but still he couldn't get what happen at the kitchen sink out of his mind. Since then, his mom had seemed quiet and distant, but that could have been his guilty imagination. Had she sensed how aroused he was while she washed his hands, or even been caught up in that special moment like he had? He had to talk to her or he'd never be able to sleep. If he went to her room to tell her good night, he'd know if she was upset with him, he always did.
The clock on the microwave was the only light in the kitchen and the refrigerator's hum was the only sound. Evan turned back, stopped, then went on. He had to know, had to at least see her, say good night and see if she was upset. He'd touched her breasts, on purpose.
When he reached the bedroom door, he heard his dad's firm voice in his mind,“Always knock.” The bedroom door was ajar and light leaked out into the hallway. He held his fist up, ready to knock, then his face inched towards the crack. The night-stand lamp made him squint. He blinked hard and nudged the door. He didn't think she was awake, so why was he still opening her door?
His footfall was silenced by the plush carpet, but not the pounding of his heart. It was all he could hear, the thump, thump, thumping in his ears. He took two more steps. Breathe, you have to breathe. Why hadn't she gotten under the covers?
Three more steps and he was at the edge of her bed, her bare feet hung off the mattress. They were pretty and he wanted to touch them, massage them like she wanted him to. He'd never seen that purple robe before. It was like Deana's towels, too short. The end laid along the cusp of her butt cheeks. Her shapely calves, thighs and the curvature of her ass under that sheer material, gave him a hot flash. He tried to swallow, but his throat stuck to itself. The truest test of his character had been set before him. What kind of person was he?
None of the excuses Evan had fabricated could exonerate him now. He was kneeling at the foot of his parent's bed. His eyes followed those sexy legs to where the thickness of her thighs spread out against the mattress, he looked between them. There was a narrow slice of red fabric that swelled with what he knew to be his mother's pussy. He gulped air and a squeak escaped from deep in his throat. None of the porn he had ever seen had the same effect on his teenage mind. He couldn't pull his eyes away from what was under that thin layer of cloth. He wanted to touch it, needed to touch it, and taste it. His penis was painfully stiff. He grabbed it. When he looked down he realized his cock was out, completely visible and being stroked. It didn't matter that she was sleeping, just the idea that his dick was there in plain view in her presence was enough. In his mind, they might as well have been fucking, so would it be any worse if he came on her floor?
Evan walked backwards without taking his eyes off his mother. He closed the door, then he rushed to the kitchen. She was so beautiful. He'd always known that, but never let his mind go to the places it had just been. Why now?
He sat at the kitchen table, waiting for some sign that his mom had woken up. The refrigerator was quiet. He rested his chin on his fists with his elbows on his thighs. She couldn't have known he was there or she would have said something immediately. He hadn't touched her and he hadn't shot his load, but he'd failed the test because in his mind he'd done terrible things.
He jumped when Gloria came into the room. “Evan,” she said, “What are you doing?”
“What are you doing?” he said. “Where are you going?”
“I had a bad dream and Deana isn't here and you're not supposed to coddle me, so I was going to—”
“No, you don't need to wake mom,” he said.
“How do you know she's asleep?”
“Ah, I don't, but we can assume. It's late and I don't hear anything.”
“But it was scary.”
He knew where this was going and he didn't like it, but the scene of the crime needed time. In his mind, time and a good night sleep made stuff go away. As long as his mom slept through the night, even if she knew something, even just in her subconscious, by morning it wouldn't exist.
“So,” he said.
“I don't want to be alone,” she said. “At least come talk for a while.”
His father was right, he was a pushover and she was too old for him to lay in bed with her until she fell asleep, but he said, “All right.” Did a good deed erase a bad one?
Evan stayed in Gloria's room, in her bed, until she was out cold, then he went to his room. He had no desire to stop coddling her, she was his, Baby-girl, she needed him. Fuck what his father said, she was just a kid.
He stripped naked and got into bed, knowing sleep would erase his concerns and tomorrow would be a new day. Nobody would be thinking about what he'd done.
At Jason's House, Jason made his way to the kitchen without turning on any lights. He'd done everything he could to forget and avoid, but it wasn't working. All he'd been thinking about was Deana's panties and Becky's naked ass and the smooth folds of her bulging pussy. He opened the refrigerator, looking for something to take the edge off his horny state. He settled for Gatorade.
He'd beat off after seeing Becky's pussy calling him, but he was just as horny when he was done. She ruined masturbating for him. If he was going to get some relief, he'd have to find something to make it exciting. Since they stopped playing their games, he was always trying to find new ways to make jerking off satisfying. Mostly, he'd made it dangerous and weird, doing it in different places where he might get caught. He'd learned every squeak and creak their house made and how long it took his mother to get from the creak outside her bedroom door to the kitchen or living room. He'd keep jerking off, trying to cum before she got to where he was, without getting caught. Maybe that's what he wanted, his mother to catch him stroking his dick, again.
When he got really twisted up, like he was now, he'd cum in her coffee cup or on the table where she ate or on her chair. He always cleaned it up, but it still gave him some sick thrill knowing he'd done it. If the table was set, and he could get away with it, he'd stuff his balls in the glass that Becky was going to drink out of. When she drank during dinner, he'd get hard imagining his balls in her mouth. He'd even take his dick out under the table, but he never had the nerve to jerk off while their mother ate her dinner.
He put his glass of Gatorade on the table and thought about how mad he was at Evan for telling him about Deana's panties. That's why his brain had gone back to those evil thoughts in the first place. Then, that self-righteous jackass had the nerve to say he didn't consider his hot sister when he came in her underwear. Bullshit, that wasn't humanly possible, not for a teenage boy.
He was mad at Becky too. How could she be so callus about showing off her body? It was like she was trying to make him horny, all the time. Didn't she understand how hard it was for him? She use to suck his dick and let him cum in her mouth, now he couldn't even touch her. Hearing about shooting off in Deana's panties and seeing Becky's pussy had opened Pandora's box.
“Damn it,” Jason said, and shoved his shorts down to his ankles. “Why the hell did I do it?”
He put his foot up on the chair and plunged his balls into the glass of Gatorade. “Phew.” He let his testicles cool, wondering why he had shaved his balls. It was stupid. Now they ached with need and tingled like crazy on the outside.
“Fucken Evan,” he said, and left his shorts on the kitchen floor. His wet balls were swigging between his legs. Becky walked around in a shirt that barely covered her ass, why couldn't he. All rational thought was gone.
His sister's TV was still on. He said, “Becky,” loud enough for her to hear him if she was awake. “Becky,” he whispered again. The lump under the sheet didn't respond, so he closed her door behind him. Each step he took made him more fearful. Normal fear was supposed to steer you away from dangerous situations, his fear was exciting and made him keep moving towards the danger. Smelling her panties wouldn't be enough for him.
“Calculator, where's your calculator?”, he practiced his excuse, as he approached the bed. Who wakes their sister up to ask for a calculator without pants on?
His cock lumbered upward, wobbled right, left and back to the right. His purple knob was pushing out of the foreskin. He was as excited as he'd been the first time. He knew better now. He eased the disheveled sheet away from Becky's middle. She was naked, on her back, one leg straight, the other bent. He tried to comprehend how much had changed in three years. His breath caught in his chest. Her flat stomach ended where a mound of chestnut fuzz exploded out of her body. A divot marked the start of the slit that rounded her pronounced pubic bone. Her groin was set off by deep cuts that formed a V, and acted as an arrow pointing between her legs. Her pussy lips were exactly as he remembered them, except they were more plump and succulent and he wanted to taste her and be inside her.
Mother, Fucker, he thought, what a pussy. The changing scenes on the TV cast a magical glow between her legs, flickering blue, green and red hues on her pussy-lips. They were two swollen flaps pressed together in a seductive kiss. He leaned forward until he could smell his sister. His tongue could reach if he stuck it out. His hand was moving up and down his dick. If he pretended he was eating her out and came on her floor, wouldn't that be dangerous enough to satisfy him?
Becky's breathing pattern barely altered when the tip of his tongue traced the slit between her fleshy lips. He was fearful and excited the first time, trying something new. He vividly remembered how his tongue felt pushing inside, and how the pungent tang made him gag at first. He wasn't sure he could go on, but somehow he did, and it became his favorite place to shove his tongue. The flavor, the texture of her inner labia and the resistance of her tight hole thrilled him. It was hard to find at first, but once he found the entry point, he loved to force his tongue deep inside his sister. She loved it too.
Reality slapped his face before he rammed his tongue inside Becky's cunt. He quickly stood up, thrust his groin forward, and pounded his fist up and down his cock. His veins rippled under his grip and his balls yanked up into the launch position. He was going to blow his load on his sister's smooth, pale flesh for the first time in three years.
The first glob of semen jettisoned over Becky's body and vanished in the pile of white sheets. Jason turned sharply and the second burst flew onto his sister's night table. He kept stroking his engorged penis and let his seed squirt on her carpet, where he'd leave it for her to step on. Served her right for torturing him with her body.
He left her room with his oozing dick swinging between his legs. He promised himself it was a one time thing and it would never happen again. He couldn't bear seeing his mother cry again.
In the morning, Candy kicked the covers off her legs and slapped the mattress. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't sleep anymore. It was time to get up, but she didn't want to face the day. No, she didn't want to face herself, face the woman who had done that to her step-son. She'd planned on going up to his room before he went to sleep, but not to console him or make him think it had been nothing, and not to admonish him for what he'd done. No, she'd put on her new, sexy robe and was going to dish out more of the same. What did she hope to gain by getting Evan aroused other than the satisfaction of knowing she still had that power?
Fortunately, she'd come to her senses long enough to lay on her bed and think about what might happen. Nothing good could come from her childish behavior. She'd cried until she fell asleep, face down on her bed.
When she woke up in the middle of the night she was relieved. Now that a new day had dawned, she resented having to put on the loose fitting clothes John would want her to wear around his friends, and go upstairs and make Evan believe nothing had happened. Everything had to go back to the way it was before he'd gotten a boner for her.
At Rebecca's House, Deana woke up lost, with that, “OMG, I'm late for school,” panic. It passed once her brain process bits of data, but it was replaced with a new, completely foreign, OMG moment. She moved her head on the feathered pillow. It was one of Rebecca's and it was familiar from years of sleepovers. She stretched her legs. When they were kids, they'd wake up in PJs, but around eleven, they'd graduated to T-shirts and underwear. Now she was completely naked in bed with another girl. Everything from the night before came back.
Rebecca's voice made her jump. “Are you mad at me?”
She rolled on her back. “I'm sorry.”
Rebecca turned on her side and propped her head up with her arm. “No, I'm sorry.”
Deana said, “What are you sorry for?”
“For not being sorry,” Rebecca said.
Deana stared at the sun light reflecting onto the ceiling, replaying the day before. It had ended with an orgasm. No, it had ended with her doing something she was never supposed to do. It was wrong—evil—even if you just fantasized about it. Isn't that what she'd been taught? If she had never kissed Rebecca, nothing would have happened, and nothing would have changed between them. But hadn't it had felt so absolutely right?
Rebecca bit off half of a piece of purple bubble gum. “Here,” she said, and stuffed the other half in Deana's mouth.
“Thanks,” she said, and chewed a few times, then she sat up and folded her legs Indian Style, covering her front with the pillow. “You're not sorry? Aren't you scared?”
Rebecca popped her bubble and said, “Of what?”
She shivered and hugged the pillow to her chest. “Of what happen...Of what it means. What if, what if we're—”
“Dee, calm down,” Rebecca said. “I know it's something that's never supposed to happen. I get it, but didn't you ever wonder, fantasize while we were playing around when we were little? Sure we always said we were just pretending, but didn't if feel good?”
“Yeah, but I'm afraid.”
Deana waited, frozen, expecting her friend to say something, but instead, she took the pillow away. She watched Rebecca's naked body move without speaking. Her friend's legs wrapped around her, and her firm little ass settled into the folds of her legs. She adjusted her legs and Rebecca wiggled down until their pussies were almost touching. Things could never go back to the way they were yesterday.
Rebecca said, “I'm afraid we won't ever do it again because we're scared, that's what I'm afraid of.”
Her vision blurred with tears and her body trembled. “Are we gay?”
A moment passed with only the sound of teeth slicing into gum, then Rebecca said, “I don't think so. We're BFF's, with benefits, that's all.”
Deana didn't know what she was. “What was it like?”
Rebecca tenderly stroked Deana's hair, and said, “It was—” She finished by pressing her mouth to Deana's.
Their grape flavored tongues touched, then quickly found a passionate rhythm, while their arms tightened around each other. Rebecca huffed, then said, “It would be impossible to explain what it was like, but I can show you, if you want.”
The blood drained from her face. She was afraid of her answer. “What do I do?”
Rebecca laid on her back. “All I did was pretend it was me. Do whatever you'd do to yourself.”
All her life she had seen herself in the mirror, and she'd been exploring her body in a sexual way since she was little, but it hadn't prepared her for this. She was laying on her stomach, staring between the legs of another girl. She'd never seen herself quite that way, or been so close to the source of what she'd smelled and tasted on her own fingers. Rebecca's brown hair was sparse compared to her own thick, black bush. “Do whatever you'd do to yourself.” How hard could that be, she'd wished a thousand times she could lick herself.
When she kissed the rounded edge of Rebecca's pubic bone, right where her slit started, her own vagina tingled. She relived that first touch of Rebecca's lips and she inhaled deeply. She blew a stream of air over the moist flesh, knowing exactly what it would do to her friend.
Rebecca sighed and opened her legs wide. Her pussy lips separated and the blood rich inner labia glistened with Rebecca's excitement. Deana held her breath, moved her mouth close and pushed her tongue out. The flavor filled her mouth and poured down her throat like warm honey. It caused a physical reaction in her groin and altered her mind. She had the power to make Rebecca feel good and that excited her.
Deana smashed her lips into the wet pussy and plunged her tongue deep inside Rebecca's body. Her nose was mashed against Rebecca's pubic bone, grinding the growing bud of her clitoris. She thrust her tongue over and over, tongue fucking her pussy the way she wanted someone to ram their cock into her. Her dirty little secret, she wanted that cock to take her, and fuck her into a raging orgasm. Having a BFF with benefits, might be the thing that saved her from her most evil, secret desire.
“Oh, ohhhh, oh-yeah, Dee, oh, Dee.” Rebecca grabbed her legs, pulled them up to her chest and flung them wide open. Her body rocked, grinding her sex on Deana's face. “Fuck, yeah, Bitch, your gonna make me squirt,” Rebecca said, in a voice Deana didn't recognize. “Do it, do it, make me squirt.”
Deana had never before felt so in control, or good about herself. Rebecca wanted her, needed her, and was begging her to meet her need. The only thing that mattered at that moment was pleasing Rebecca. She licked with a new urgency and stuffed a finger inside Rebecca's pussy, searching for that sweet spot she knew only inside her own hole. Her tongue found the engorged nub and did what she'd want done to herself, everything that it would take to finish her off. Rebecca's clit throbbed between her lips, and grew with every stroke. Her body bucked, but Deana had a mission, a purpose, and she wouldn't be thrown off. She locked her arms around Rebecca's thighs and rode the thrashing pelvis, licking furiously.
“Yesss, oh, yesss...” A tight line of muscles rippled up Rebecca's abdomen, pulling her up into a half sit-up. “Oh, Deeee, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Her body slammed back to the mattress, then her pelvis shoved upward, arching her body until only her shoulders and feet were on the bed.
Deana humped the blanket piled between her legs and had her own orgasm, while admiring her work. Seeing someone else in the throws of pleasure was a beautiful sight. She'd hit a home run, devastating her BFF. She crawled up Rebecca's body, pausing at her chest long enough to taste each nipple, then she laid on top of her. Their hearts thumped together, and they shared a long, slow kiss. Deana felt totally at peace for the first time in years. She could care less about her sexuality, she was happy.
At Home, Evan was suddenly awake with a song playing in his head, "smells like sex and candy..." The dream he'd left was as strange as the music video for that song, but there had been sex, so he ignored the pressure on his bladder and tried to pick up where he left off. That rarely happened, but his real life was making him horny and his dreams were the only place he could get satisfaction, so he tried.
"I said, you two make a nice couple," a voice said.
Now he knew why he woke up in the first place, and the amnesia caused by his deep sleep was cured in an instant by his mother's voice. The pressure on his bladder was Gloria's leg and he realized he had a big problem, a big hard erection problem, and Gloria's leg was draped across it. Shit, he was naked.
"Ah, jeez," he said. "Where did she come from? I swear she was in her bed when I went to sleep."
"You're not in trouble," his mom said, and sat on the opposite side of the bed. "Gloria, wake up...Gloria."
He said, "But dad—"
"Don't worry about your father," his mom said. "Just be careful when he's home."
A strange feeling came over him. His mother had changed everything with those words, "Don't worry about your father..." She had become an ally again, like when she was their babysitter and she let them do stuff they weren't supposed to do.
Gloria started to roll back, pulling her leg off him and his heart stopped. He was young the first time it happened and it scared him, but this was worse. Gloria's thigh was glued to his groin by a crusty layer of semen. What if his mom knew about the underwear and now she finds out he's naked with his sister, and he had a wet dream. How could she not get the wrong idea?
"Gloria," Candy said, “you have ball today and you still have to clean your room."
"Oh, mom, can't I clean it tomorrow?"
He watched his mom flattened the bird's nest on top of Gloria's head. Surely his sister would say something about what had happened or at least ask what got on her leg.
"No, you said the same thing yesterday," Candy said. "Go clean it now , then get ready for your game."
His sister groaned and scooted across the bed. As she stood, her bunched up shirt resisted gravity long enough for him to see her pantie-less behind. She had definitely gotten too old to be sneaking into his bed while he was sleeping. He might be an underwear sniffing pervert, but he wasn't into having wet dreams on his sister.
Evan breathed a sigh of relief when his sister left without saying anything about the hard-on or his discharge.
"Honey," his mom said, "is everything okay?"
He almost flinched when she reached to stroke his hair. Did she know something or was this just one of those bonding moments? "I think so," he said. "Why?" He wished she'd leave so he could put something on. Being naked, even under the covers, while she was in the room made him very nervous. He'd held his cock while looking at her pussy.
"I was just wondering," Candy said. "You've been quiet, that's all."
"It's nothing," he said. "Finals and all that, ya know."
"Okay," she said, and squeezed his bicep. "If you ever need to talk, I'm here."
"I know," he said.
“Good,” Candy said. "Can you drop Gloria off at ball and pick up Deana for me?"
Why did parents ask questions like there was a choice? "Sure, Mom. I'll get up and get ready." As soon as you leave the room, he thought.
After his mother left, Evan jumped out of bed and threw something on. She hadn't said anything about the previous night, but he was still worried that she might be suspicious. He was also terrified that Gloria knew what happened and she'd misunderstood, although, there weren't too many ways to understand cum on your thigh. He collected the dirty clothes scattered on his floor and went downstairs to pee, then he'd go get Deana. Deana was head of the girl's club, she could help him understand Gloria and his mother.