Literotic asexstories – The Family Room Ch. 08 by Mused,Mused I toweled my hair, squeezing out the damp as I stepped inside my bedroom. I bumped into something. “Ow, what the hell?!” I pulled the towel off of my face and found that I had almost trampled my mother. “Sorry, Mom. Didn’t see you.”
“That’s alright, honey.” Mom was not as petite as Julie, but the laundry basket she lugged still looked hopelessly oversized in her arms.
She dug through my hamper, weeding out anything that wasn’t white. Two child-births and fifty-four birthdays had taken their toll on her figure, but she was still a lovely woman. I wondered if I was looking at my mother or Julie, in another thirty-five years. “Anything else you need cleaned?”
My work pants and vest were draped over my desk chair, I tossed them to her.
“You’ve got something in your pocket,” she said.
Oh shit, I knew what she’d found.
“Rick, do I even want to know why these are in your pocket?” She held Julie’s little white panties between her middle and forefinger.
I was such a dope. Why hadn’t I given my sister her panties back. I couldn’t look at her, or the panties, my head sank and I locked my eyes on the carpet. The blue fibers of my rug were crushed, the area around my bed was sprinkled with crumbs. I had eaten a sandwich in here for dinner the previous night. No napkin, no plate, why had I been so careless. Why was I always so careless.
I took a deep breath, but remained silent. I hoped she would assume they belonged to some random girl, a ‘conquest’ of mine.
Would the size, or the brand name on the waistband give me away? She might see the little tan stain made by her daughter’s aroused pussy and the crusty remains of my dried pre-cum. She would realize what we’d been doing.
I was brave enough for just one glance. I watched long enough to see her unfold the panties and study them a bit. My eyes retreated back to the carpet. I had no idea how thorough her examination was. After what seemed like hours she spoke. “Why do you have your sister’s underwear?”
My blood pressure was off the charts. This would be my own personal Armageddon. I stuttered and spat, my lips tried to form words but my mouth was numb and useless.
“It’s normal for a young man to get… certain urges.” Her voice was devoid of any anger or disappointment. I had prepared for the day when my horrible secret was exposed. Some nights in my dreams the screaming and the accusations, that would surely be leveled my way, played on a loop.
I never expected my mother to remain so calm. “There’s nothing wrong with taking care of those urges yourself.” She wadded the panties up and placed them on top of the clothes basket. “But not like this, Rick Respect your sister’s property a little more.” She thought I was jacking off with them.
I nodded dumbly as she left me. I exhaled. I never imagined that being accused of masturbating could feel so liberating. It was near midnight before I gathered the courage to creep out of my room. The trip across the hall seemed to take hours. Every squeaky floorboard and every crackle of the settling house made me anxious to retreat. The shadows were alive, dark formless shapes that could, at any moment, morph into a parent and send my life straight to hell.
No amount of fear would have kept me from Julie. My desire for her had only grown stronger since our foreplay in the restaurant earlier that evening. We had masturbated each other in a room filled with a hundred people, while our parents ate dinner a few inches away.
I longed to touch her again, to smell and taste her. She was a part of me now, her pleasure was more precious than my own. When she had asked if we could continue tonight my heart quivered. I would do anything to make her feel good.
“Rick.” Julie’s voice was a faded whisper. I tiptoed into the darkness of her bedroom. The door closed behind me with a muffled click. “Maybe we shouldn’t.” Her warning was mumbled and weak, she crawled out of her jersey nightgown, even as the words formed on her lips. Still no panties, she wanted to be ready for me.
“Of course we shouldn’t.” My lips were pressed against her ear, my splayed hand rested on her stomach. “But that won’t stop us, will it baby?”
She shook her head. I shrugged off my hunter green terry robe, a breeze from the air conditioning raised goosebumps on my skin.
Julie’s green eyes opened wide, she was surprised that I had gone naked beneath the robe. “What if you had bumped into Mom out there?”
I remembered the look on my mother’s face when she found Julie’s panties in the pocket of my slacks. I imagined her finding me in the dark hallway, slinking around in little more than a bathrobe. “She thinks I’m a pervert as it is.”
“She’s not alone.” Julie giggled. She spread her legs, giving me the invitation I wanted. I threw myself on her bed, bouncing a few times. The mattress springs yelped. “Are you trying to wake them?” she asked. The pop of skin on skin echoed in the room as she smacked my butt.
“Are you?” I pulled her over my lap and cupped my palm to deliver anemic blows to her backside. Just hard enough and long enough to turn her creamy flesh pink. She squirmed and did a poor job of stifling her giggles. “Naughty little sisters need to be punished.”
“Rick Martin, if you don’t let me go this instant—” I pinched her nose shut, her giggled threats turned distorted and nasal.
My fingers kneaded the soft mounds of her buttocks for a while, inching down to the delicate skin stretched across the backs of her thighs. Every few caresses I allowed a thumb to graze her dewy pussy. Julie moaned when I did, my touch was having it’s intended effect.
“I’ll call Mom!” she purred, “I’ll tell her you’re teasing me again.”
“Go ahead, call Mom.” I smacked her butt again, even lighter than before. “She can find us in bed together and see what a little slut her daughter has become.” By the time I realized what I’d said it was too late.
I hated the way she looked at me. Her bottom lips clenched and quivered. I felt like such an asshole. She wriggled to escape my lap and sprang out of bed. For a second I thought she would run to our parents.
“Julie, wait!” I put my hand on her shoulder, the way she flinched let me know it was not welcomed there. “I didn’t mean—”
“Then why did you say it?” She turned to face me. Her arms were crossed, coiled over her ample chest.
“I don’t know. I was only trying to talk dirty to you. I’m an idiot. Please, baby, don’t be angry with me.”
“Do you think I’m a slut?” Her voice trembled, for a moment she was not my lover, but my vulnerable little sister again.
I put my hand on her shoulder, this time she let it stay. “Of course not Julie. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”
She pulled me close, and scraped her fingernails across my back. After a moment she leaned up to kiss my neck.
“I guess that means you forgive me,” I said.
“I always will.” She cupped her hand over my lips. “No matter how many stupid things come out of your mouth.” She pulled her hand away and replaced it with her mouth. We kissed for several minutes. Our lips were like old friends, familiar and comfortable together.
She broke the kiss and sighed. “You know, I think we’re setting some new Guinness records for the shortest fights.” She was right, our two little lovers’ quarrels had lasted a combined twenty minutes.
Her eyes darted to the unkempt bed. She flashed a sexy grin. “Ricky, let’s set some new records for makeup sex.”
“Speed records?” I couldn’t resist teasing her.
She pressed a long fingernail against my right bicep. “Endurance records, for your sake.”
I followed her back to bed. Her swaying hips held my interest the whole way. I expected her to lay down, but after crawling on top of the covers she remained on all fours. The bed squeaked as I joined her. She shushed me again, with Mom and Dad just down the hall we had to be cautious.
Julie and I had only had sex while our parents were at home once before. That was the night my previous life was laid to rest beneath the sheer, pink canopy of this very bed. What a glorious funeral it was. That was also the night of my disastrous date with Renee. There would be no more Renee, there would be no more anyone except Julie.
My pelvis bumped against her butt. I rubbed my hard shaft against the moist outer lips of her pussy. My penis was surrounded by her soft pubic hairs and buttery thighs, it was heaven. I slipped the head inside her, inching forward, forced to stop by each squeak of the bed.
The mattress had never seemed as noisy when our parents were gone. Every movement seemed like it produced a popping spring, or a thump as the headboard smacked the wall.
I slid my penis in, all the way, until my groin pressed the softness of her butt. Her insides caressed and gripped my penis. I pulled out of her, almost to the head, then pushed in again.
We established an excruciatingly slow motion. She whined my name, it was a little too loud, so I smacked her butt. I always strived to be gentle with my petite little sister but tonight it was even more important that we remain quiet.
I pulled out again, this time the head of my dick popped free from her clenching vagina. She whined for me to quit teasing. My penis was slick and oily from her juices, I fumbled to reinsert it. I did and drove into Julie, hard. She lost her balance and we tumbled to the mattress. The entire bed frame creaked.
As we landed it felt like I had touched something inside her body. She moaned as I thrust again. I didn’t try to quiet her, I had to find out how far inside her I could touch.
My loins tingled, I would cum soon. I should pull out, I told myself. I should finish on her stomach, let my sperm wither and die on her skin.
Julie’s period had come and gone, almost a month late. We had been lucky, but now she was fertile again. We had agreed that she would start the pill, but had never quite worked up the will to ask the doctor.
I pulled her by the waist until she was on her knees again. We stayed connected the entire time. I recommenced pumping, and smiled as Julie orgasmed beneath me. She rammed her butt backwards, impaling herself on my erection. She pivoted her hips inviting my hardness to rub every square inch within her clenching walls.
Her pleasure was enough to instigate my own climax. “Julie,” I said. Her voice was dreamy as she asked what I wanted. “I want to look at you when I cum.” I pulled out and scooted backward. She twisted her body and rolled onto her back. I bent down for a brief kiss then reinserted myself in a missionary position.
I pushed in all the way, pressing her crotch so closely with my own that our pubic hairs mingled and twisted together.
I searched her green eyes until I found what I was looking for. I saw a sparkle in those emerald pools, a radiant twinkle that flared like a supernova when we were together like this. Satisfaction washed over me, I was the only one who would ever see it.
My penis squirted milky jets, sowing my seed in her willing insides. I was so lost that I didn’t hear the headboard tapping the wall, didn’t hear Julie’s wails as a second orgasm claimed her.
I had just expelled the last stream of cum when I heard my father’s harried cries. “Get away from my daughter you sorry mother fucker!”
Rough hands wrapped around my right arm, fingernails dug into my bicep. I tried to dismount from Julie, as I did I was flung from the bed. My entire right side crashed into the nightstand. My elbow impacted with the wall, denting the sheetrock, my hand smashed into her glitter lamp. Julie screamed for our father to stop. I felt the warm wetness of my own blood, I had cracked the lamp and was lacerated pretty badly.
The overhead lights came on. My mother was at the switch, she gasped and looked away.
“Rick, your hurt.” Julie dropped her blanket, ignoring her own modesty. She covered her mouth and pointed to my arm. I looked down to see my wrist and palm crisscrossed by crimson rivers of blood.
My father seemed stunned, he tried to apologize. For a moment he was my father again, but seeing my nakedness, with my penis still semi-rigid and glistening from Julie’s juices, set him off again.
“Get the fuck out of my house.” His voice was so dark, he didn’t even sound like my father.
I stood using the edge of Julie’s mattress to steady myself. I was light headed from my fall into the nightstand and the shock of the situation. I held my injured hand close to my body, I didn’t want to bleed on anything. My chest stained red as warm beads of blood dribbled down my torso.
My sister was hysterical with tears, Mom was crying. Everyone was crying except for my father, he was too furious for tears. Julie wrapped something around my hand, her nightshirt, to stop the bleeding.
“Don’t fucking touch him.” My father pushed me away from her, shoving me hard into the headboard. I exhaled as my ribs slammed into the solid oak. I gasped for air as sharp pains raced through my midsection. I recovered quickly and for the first time I considered defending myself. I balled my left fist, wanting so badly to strike back, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t hit my father.
He saw my fist and looked at me. For the first time I realized he had tears in his blue eyes. “You have to leave Rick. You have to, before something happens that we’ll both regret.”
Julie took my arm, she begged me to stay with her, but I struggled free. No sense in ruining her life. Mom tried to cover Julie’s naked body with a pink blanket, but the girl screamed and told our parents that she loved me. I threw my robe over my shoulders and slumped to my own room.
It had taken me a while to dress, with only one hand, but I had managed to slip into a pair of green sweatpants and a t-shirt.
My door opened and Dad walked in. He seemed to have calmed down. His face was no longer masked by fury and betrayal, now he appeared sullen and heartbroken. “Do you have somewhere to go?” he asked.
I told him I would stay with Lance for a while. I inferred from his tone of voice that he wasn’t asking on his own behalf. It wouldn’t have mattered to him if I slept on the street. He put something on my dresser, a crumpled one-hundred dollar bill. “Take this.”
“I’m not taking your money,” I said. I rummaged through my closet until I found an old duffle.
“It’s your mother’s money. She wants you to have it.”
I looked at the duffle for a moment. I had used it for gym class, sleepovers, family vacations. I never thought I’d be using it for something like this. The zipper was broken, but I couldn’t have worked it with only one hand anyway. I stuffed as many changes of clothes as I could manage within the folds of the black canvas. Enough to get me through a week at Lance’s apartment, or wherever I wound up.
My Dad stuffed the hundred dollar bill in amongst the wadded clothes. “Are you finished?”
I pulled on a pair of sandals and nodded, wiping a stinging tear from the corner of my eye. I slung the strap of my bag over a shoulder and followed him to the hall. I had never moved so slow in my life. Behind Julie’s door I could hear high-pitched weeping. Our mother was trying to comfort her, but she was in so much pain. Pain I had caused.
Once we were downstairs, away from my sister’s cries, I talked to my father. “Dad.” The words were so thick in my throat, I could have choked on them. “I love her.”
He stopped. Was this what he wanted to hear, was there a chance he understood? “You think that makes it okay?” he asked. “You have no idea how much worse… If you were curious, or experimenting and it meant nothing to either of you, I think eventually I could have lived with that. Maybe even have forgiven you.”
“Then why can’t you—”
“Because she’s my daughter! Your little sister, for Christ’s sake! Did you think, for even a minute, about what you were doing to her?”
I was silent. He would never understand. We passed through the family room, right past the very spot where, earlier that summer, Julie and I had lost our virginities together. I remembered how scared we had both been, now I could appreciate why.
I grabbed my keys from the kitchen counter as my dad worked at the lock to the door. He held open the screen door, his eyes rested on the linoleum floor. I thought about saying goodbye, but didn’t. Not like he would have answered me anyway.
I allowed myself to cry, now that I was out of the house. I tossed my duffle in the trunk and leaned against the side of my car. Through tear-moistened eyes I looked up at the window to my old bedroom. The light was on and I saw a female silhouette behind the mini blinds. I wondered if it was Julie, or my mother. Whoever it was went to my desk and extinguished the lamp.
My house disappeared in the rear-view mirror, another part of my life laid to rest.
The bait shop was still aglow, I knew that it would be. Before the door had even stopped ringing my bloody hand was resting on the counter.
“You’re hurt.” It wasn’t Jerry but a woman. Her hair was dark, judging by her salty roots this particular shade of brunette came from a box.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“I’m Linda,” her voice was husky, the effects of a cigarette habit. “If you’re looking for Jerry he’s down at the lake.” She looked at my injured hand, still wrapped with Julie’s nightgown. “Are you in trouble?”
I almost laughed. “I’m in so much trouble.” She took my good hand and led me behind the counter, giving up her stool so I could sit. “Will he be long?”
She frowned. “All night. He told me to close up at midnight, but I guess I forgot the lock.” I still didn’t know who she was, other than someone named Linda. “I’ll bet your Rick.” How did she know? Was my face on the ten o’ clock news? Incest fiend on the loose. “Jerry’s talked about you a lot. Can’t seem to figure you out.”
She showed me a tarnished ring, capped with a microscopic diamond. “Jerry and me are engaged.”
“Congrat—” I tried to reach out my left hand, but a sharp pain in my ribs stopped me.
“Save your congratulations for after the wedding, honey.” Linda sighed. “I been waiting six years for that old dog to live up to his promise.” I guess he was a little gun-shy after three previous marriages. “Let me see that hand.”
I presented my injured hand and cringed as she peeled the cloth away. The skin beneath was crusty and sticky with dried blood. A cut ran diagonally across my palm, but it didn’t seem to be very deep.
“You’re healing up,” she said. “I don’t think you’ll need any stitches.” She pulled a tin box from under the counter and unfastened two rusted latches. Inside were rolls of bandages and tape. “Now I’m no doctor, but you’d be surprised by how many hooks I’ve removed from a certain old man.”
Linda was gentle as she spread ointment on the cut, soothing and cleansing the wound. She did a masterful job dressing and wrapping my hand. After she applied the last bit of tape, she asked if the bandages were too tight. I shook my head no.
She admired her handiwork. “I think I got in the wrong business.” I tried for a polite smile but failed. She was such a sweet lady, why hadn’t Jerry mentioned her.
“I don’t suppose you want to talk about it?”
I didn’t. I really didn’t, but what did it matter now? I had come here to confess everything to Jerry. He had been such a good friend that he deserved to know the truth about me, before I did anything drastic.
I told her everything. She never cringed, never recoiled, never judged. She just listened. When I finished, Linda sighed.
“Oh Rick,” she reached for my bandaged hand. I pulled away, instinctively fearing that she wanted to hurt me. “I wish I could give you some advice, but this is a little out of my field of expertise. I couldn’t pretend to know why you chose your sister, but it sounds like you truly love her.”
I truly did. That love was reconfirmed numerous times in the two hours I spent telling my story.
“You have someplace to go?” Linda asked.
I nodded. It wouldn’t be home, it would never be home again. Lance would have me, he would be thrilled to open his tiny apartment to me.
That wasn’t my place though, my place was with Julie. If I couldn’t be with her than I’d rather not be at all. I thrust out my bottom lip and exhaled, letting my warm breath rustle my bangs.
“Rick?”
“I’m ready,” I said after a moment. “Ready to go. Tell Jerry, I’m sorry I didn’t say… Don’t forget to lock up.”
My sandals scattered pebbles of asphalt as I walked back across the bridge. The clouds were gone, at least the ones in the sky, it seemed as if they had abandoned the atmosphere to take up residence in my soul. My parents hated me, I would never see Julie again, I just wanted it to be over.
The night was still and the stars bright. I studied the round face of the moon and the winking stars. I’d be just as well off falling in love with one of the celestial bodies in the sky, that’s how impractical my love for Julie was. My love for her had cost me everything. I always knew that it would, no matter how much I allowed my feelings to delude me, deep down I knew.
The swishing of the water grew louder as I neared the side of Miller’s Bridge. This time I didn’t stand on the edge of the guardrail, I straddled it. A breeze came off the lake, it slapped my face with a gush of cool air. It screamed at me to step back. The moist air begged and pleaded, don’t give up, you have too much to live for. Water poured over my face. I was crying, why was I crying?! Tears couldn’t help, they couldn’t give me Julie, and they certainly couldn’t save me.
I thought about my family. Would Mom and Dad be there when they buried me? Would there even be a funeral, or would Dad have me cremated and pitch my ashes down a storm sewer?
I leaned over the bridge, the water seemed closer than ever. I heard my name, a siren’s call, only this siren begged me to turn away, to not give myself to the waters.
***
Julie tiptoed into the family room. Her father was on the sofa. His legs were folded so his knees almost grazed his chin. She had only seen him cry once, at Grandma June’s funeral. There were only a few tears then, just a dribble down each cheek. Tonight, he was crying like a little child.
Rick used to cry like this, as a boy, but since he became a man tears never seemed necessary. Except after their first time, when he must have thought he was losing her. He came to her room and begged her forgiveness. She had always loved Rick, but that night and those tears made her realize how much.
Her father’s tears garnered no such emotion.
She saw the vase on the table behind the sofa. It had once held a dozen beautiful peach roses, but now it was empty, a barren hunk of crystal. She wanted to take it up and smash it over her father’s head. Make him bleed, hurt him the way he had hurt Rick. She choked on a sob, how could she think such things.
Donald Martin noticed his daughter’s presence and in moments they were in each other’s arms.
She didn’t ask him to let Rick come home, she didn’t beg. She knew what the answer would be, so there was no point. They held each other for what seemed like hours. “Daddy why?” She didn’t think she had the courage or the will to ever speak to him again.
“He killed us,” Donald said at last. His words were separated by shallow breaths into her hair. “He killed our family.”
Julie used the sleeve of her robe to wipe a string of mucous from her nose. “No Daddy, you did.”
Her father’s palms went to his eyes, they couldn’t stop the tears.
“I love him Daddy.” Her red eyes managed to sparkle through the tears as she said it.
Her father uncovered his face and slammed a fist into the back of the couch. A spring popped. “You can’t love him. He’s your brother.” He made it sound so simple, as if there was a file somewhere filled with a list of the people you could and could not be in love with.
“I won’t let you go anywhere near him.”
“I’m nineteen years old, you can’t stop me!” Her voice and temperature rose.
“The police can,” he said. He was bluffing wasn’t he? He would never call the police on his own children. Then again, she never thought he would say or do the things he had done to Rick.
“Sweetheart, I don’t blame you for what happened. You were taken advantage of by someone you trusted.”
He never took advantage, she thought, he never did anything but love and protect me. And now he was out there, alone. Rick was so in love with her, so devoted, it scared her sometimes. She remembered the time in the park, their only real fight. It had lasted all of fifteen minutes. She made him promise that he would never screw their relationship up. Her brother was awkward, insecure and hopelessly romantic. No one loved her the way Rick did, he said he would throw himself off a bridge for her.
An image popped in her head of police dragging the shallow water of Lake Jude. Her body trembled as she raised from the sofa. He would do it, she realized. “Rick’s in trouble,” she muttered, as if her father would care. She scrambled off the couch.
Her father took one of her icy hands. “Sweetheart I—”
Julie dug her fingernails into the meat of his palm. Donald Martin yelped and released her. It had felt good, no matter how bad she felt.
This was her chance, while her father was still clutching his bleeding hand. She ran to the kitchen. Her heart beat fast, she spotted the keys on the counter by the microwave. The counter where she and Rick… she had to stop him. Her father was close behind, sliding on the slick linoleum. He begged her to stop. She yanked a kitchen chair from under the table and tipped it on it’s side. His feet tangled in the legs of the chair, he fell with a crash.
Donald Martin called out in agony. He begged, pleaded for her to help him. He may have been her father, but if he had been dying on that cold kitchen floor she would have left him.
She didn’t care if he called the police. They could lock her away for assault or auto theft or incest, she had to find her brother.
Julie raced her parent’s sedan through the streets of Saratoga Spring. She was halfway to Lake Jude before she realized the headlights were off. She slammed the brakes as soon as she spotted Rick’s empty car in the gravel lot. She burst out of the car screaming his name. No answer. She glared into the dimness across the bridge, he wasn’t there. A chill wind rustled her hair, she was too late. She leaned over the guard rail, screaming his name, but she was too late.
She could barely see through her tears. How could he do this to her? How could he destroy the one thing that had ever been perfect?
“Julie.” Her own name, spoken from her brother’s lips, was the most wonderful thing she had ever heard. He was standing at the top of the little dirt path that led under the bridge. She bounced into his arms and tackled him to the cement. She wanted to be furious at him for scaring her like that, but was incapable.
She kissed him, over and over. Sometimes the kisses were long and passionate, sometimes short successions of pecks. When she finally stopped there was an older man and woman standing over them.
Julie climbed off of her brother and helped him sit up. She grabbed his bandaged hand and examined it, she hoped she hadn’t hurt him. She must have made an odd sight, sitting there on the concrete in nothing but a nightshirt and her opened bathrobe.
Rick wiped away the tears she hadn’t realized were on her cheeks. “Julie,” he said, “I didn’t think I would ever—” She interrupted him with a kiss.
He broke free from her lips and motioned to the older couple. “These are my friends Jerry and Linda.” She nodded politely, her arms still wrapped around his chest. He faced the older couple. “This is my sister.” She went rigid. “Don’t be upset,” he whispered.
He needn’t have worried. She couldn’t be angry with him, not tonight.
To be continued
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