[All characters in this story are 18 years of age or older.]
***
A phone woke me up, which really pissed me off because, you know, doesn’t the universe always turn your bed into the absolute one-hundred percent coziest of cozy beds possible specifically on days when the phone is going to ring and ruin the whole effect? Like, there I was asleep in the Platonic Ideal of what a cozy bed should be, and some ass-wipe phone decides to go, Haha, fuck you!
I did my best to give the phone and/or universe the most brutal, scathing, Platonic Ideal of a scathing, brutal condemnation ever verbalized, but I think it mostly came out along the lines of, “Mmrrf — hrr-hrr-Mglhrrgh…”
Then, to make matters worse, some of my coziness rolled away from me, letting non-cozy, cool air in under the covers to antagonize my back. My eyes squeezed really tight, and I got ready to scathe my ass off.
But the coziness rolled against me again and even looped some extra coziness up around my shoulder. Ahh. Perfect.
And then Seong’s voice breathed warmly into my ear, “Sea. Your sister is calling. Do you want to answer?”
Awake.
Instantly.
Maybe as awake as I’ve ever been in my life.
Somewhere, the phone rang again as I rolled onto my back in Seong’s arms and found her wonderful, dark-eyed, soft-lipped face hanging over mine. My right arm had gotten half trapped between us as I turned, so I ignored it and reached up, trying to get my left hand around the nape of her neck and pull her down for a kiss.
But… she lifted away instead of cooperating, and held my phone in between us where I could see “Sis” and Kellie’s number in the middle of the screen.
From behind the eclipsing phone, she said, “This seems an uncompelling soundtrack for our first kiss, don’t you think, Sea? You should answer or send her to voicemail.”
I took the phone meaning to hit “decline” and toss it away… but taking it revealed Seong’s patient, contented eyes basking in the sight of me, and the time on the screen seemed earlier than Kell would normally call me on a Saturday (since she knows how long I usually sleep in on weekends), and I thought, Shit. I guess it could be an emergency.
Rolling my eyes, I thumbed the answer button icon and said, “Yeah?”
Seong settled in beside me. Her lips teased my earlobe softly, maddeningly.
“Chelse,” came my sister’s voice from the speaker — worried? Frantic? “Is… are you…” Her tone shifted gears before she’d gotten a full sentence out. “Ah, fuck, I’m waking you up I bet.”
“Sort… of…” I tried to keep my breathing even, as Seong switched to the barest hint of a nibble with her teeth.
“Shit. I’m sorry, I just — I had this dream — I mean, nightmare really, and it woke me up and… goddammit. This is stupid. Everything’s fine, isn’t it.” She let the last bit trail off so it wasn’t even a question.
“Uh-huh,” was about all I could get out in response.
Then Seong relented and whispered into my ear, “Ask her about her dream.”
“Um, what?” I asked.
“What?” Kellie echoed. Then she made some quick decision and said, “You’re not even all the way awake yet. Sorry, Chelse, dumb call. Go back to sleep.”
“No, uh, what was this dream?”
“Thank you,” Seong whispered. “I’m curious.”
“Sorry,” Kell said, “it’s so dumb now that I’m bothering to think about it. We had this alarm system put in yesterday, and I dreamed you were locked outside with some psycho killer chasing you and you couldn’t get in because you didn’t know the code.”
“Well, shit, you better give me the code really quick,” I said.
A warm breath in my ear said, “Here is your reward for humoring my curiosity.”
I felt a hand settle lightly on my belly, then make its way southward in a steady, gentle slide. I had to bite my lip to avoid making a sound, and I missed something Kellie was saying.
“… high school.”
Fingertips reached the waistband of my panties and glided back and forth there a moment.
“Uh… sorry, what?”
“She said it’s the year she graduated.”
“It’s the year I graduated high school. Look, you’re obviously –”
“Oh!” The fingertips moved farther down, two curving along either side of my vulva while the third, between them, found and rubbed the little nub of flesh it sought.
“Chelse, are you…”
“Sorrrry,” I slurred a little, trying hard to get it out without gasping as the pressure against my groin moved in firm, mind-blanking circles. I let my thighs slip farther apart and was rewarded by Seong’s hand moving to cup and caress my entire pussy. “You’re… kind of… interrupting something…”
“Oh my god. Gross! I’m hanging up.”
As soon as I heard the “call ended” beep, I dropped the phone to my left and turned my head toward Seong, on my right. “I guess I should have told her that sooner… nh… how is it our first kiss can’t happen with a phone ringing but our first hand-job can happen while I’m on a call?”
She looked at me with placid eyes, her pupils immense in the dim room. “Lust is accentuated by delays and anticipation. Love deserves one’s fullest attention.”
I started to say something, but the phone pinged and drew her gaze to it. “What are you doing? Just ignore it.”
But she ignored me instead. I saw her eyes tracing the words. “Kellie texts, ‘Sorry but I just can’t stand thinking about you and that guy. Next time just say you need to go pee or something.’ Hmm.”
“Haha. She’s — hey! What are you doing? Don’t stop!”
But her hand came out from under the sheets and picked the phone up. I almost gave myself whiplash looking from her face to her hand — its thumb ticking letters onto the screen — and then back to her face.
“What are you saying to her? My pussy is hoping it’s something really short!” Almost before I’d finished, the ‘text sent’ noise sounded and she let the phone plop back to the pillow.
“You can read it yourself a bit later. And was I not just talking about the advantages of postponed gratification?” she leaned in closer, right hand moving to my cheek instead of back to my underwear. The warmth of her touch and the vibrance in her eyes kept this from seeming like too much of a tease.
I wet my lips with my tongue and left them barely open as an invitation. Her face lowered toward me, the eyes calm and somehow intense at the same time.
Plink! went my phone.
“Seriously?” I asked with a growl. “What’s she saying now?”
Seong’s eyes laughed as they flicked toward the phone and back to mine. “Let’s ignore her for the moment.”
Her face, her lips, moved closer.
Plink! Plink!
“Are you sure you can concentrate on a first kiss while it’s doing that?” I asked. “You could always go back to fingering me until Kell shuts the fuck up.”
She laughed, then removed the last space between us, closing her eyes as her lips touched mine.
Have you ever had a kiss like this? Oh, you think maybe you have? Sorry, I’m calling bullshit on that one. First off, you’ve never even seen Seong’s lips, much less touched them. Seeing them, you’d expect you knew how soft they’d be — how mobile, sensitive, full of life. But they would still surprise you when their curves met yours and the fullness of them greeted your mouth with two years of silenced emotion.
Second, if you imagine you’ve had this kind of kiss, that means all the way through your version of it, you were thinking, This is what has been missing in every kiss I’ve had before. Only I wasn’t thinking that, because I wasn’t thinking anything. Seong’s mouth against mine in that instant banished all thought from my brain. It left only this… awareness of her trembling completion — and an overwhelming joy that by joining together like this, I could make someone feel the way I made her feel right then.
Physically, I don’t know if I’ve ever had a kiss that easy and patient. My best kisses before had always been built of passion and furor and heat. This kiss was the moon, orbiting through phases of wan, steadfast beauty: the obliterating dark of its newness… the crescent sliver of suddenly understanding how I had only seen stars before, tiny specks of something bright but faraway… the half circle that let me gaze for the first time on the shape of what was happening to me… the gibbous brilliance of her beauty, which had always been there and only just now neared a true illumination…
And then the full glow of revelation, shining and enormous and raising the highest of all tides in me with its gravity.
The moon’s not the sun, right? You can stare at the moon and not be blinded. At its peak, it throws the world into silver truths and clean shadows — and it does so without pretense, without hurry, without ever threatening to broil or burn you.
So no, you haven’t ever had a kiss like that one. And when it faded just as gently from that intense, lambent apogee, and her lips retreated from mine, and her eyes opened again, I knew that another just as good would come round in its own time.
“Mm,” she said, regarding me from above. “That was good, yes?”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. I laughed so fucking hard as I grabbed her and squeezed her to me and held her tight until the giddiness somehow let go of me. By that time, she was laughing too, and the whole world seemed right.
And then a knock came at the door, followed by Mrs. Song’s voice. “I don’t mean to interrupt, since the sun has risen on a new day, and Rule Number Seven no longer applies. But if you reach a caesura in your poesy, there are pancakes.”
“Thank you, Mother,” Seong said. Then she boggled my mind by continuing, “We will be there directly.”
“Are you serious?” I asked. “I don’t know what a caesura is, but I’m pretty sure you haven’t gotten yours in my pussy yet.”
She rolled her eyes and applied a light pressure to my shoulder, as though suggesting I let go of her. “I’m certain you know what a caesura is — we had Introduction to Afro-American Poetry with Jamison second semester. And Mother clearly said, ‘poesy,’ not ‘pussy.'”
“Pretty sure she meant it as a double entendre,” I said, loosening my hug enough for her to lift up but not quite off of me. “And if she didn’t, I did.”
She smiled and gave me a quick peck on the lips. “Delay and anticipation, remember? Anyway, you should read your sister’s texts.”
Pouting but remembering that I really wanted to find out what Seong had texted back to Kellie, I surrendered and allowed her to roll back to her side of the bed, where she propped herself on one elbow and waited for me to look at the phone. There were several more texts than I had heard the alert sound for — apparently, once we started kissing, I’d lost all connection to the real world. I scrolled up a little to the text Seong had read aloud to me.
Sorry but I
just can’t stand
thinking about
you and that
guy. Next time
just say you
need to go pee
or something.
Which was followed by:
Not Brandt;
Seong.
And then:
What?
Wait, WHAT???
Do you mean
Chelsea!
Oh my god, I’m
dying here
if the two of
you are just like,
studying or sone
shit, pick up the goddamn phon
e and answer
me!
By the time I was done, I was laughing so hard I had to pass the phone to Seong instead of reading it out loud to her. She scrolled, read, and immediately texted something else before handing it back.
Seong here.
We are doing
some shit
like having
pancakes.
I snort-laughed. “I had no idea you had this cruel streak in you.”
With a shrug, she said, “Like many human entities, I conceal the worst of my characteristics until they simply force themselves out. Let’s go and have breakfast.”
# # #
We ate as we’d slept — in our tops and panties. The usually impeccable Seong startled me by not even brushing her hair.
“It’s the eighth,” she explained as we arrived in the kitchen to find her father Carl and her father Joji debating who should have the last of the blueberry syrup. “Thanks to Rule Number Seven, arriving disheveled to the breakfast table usually earns you some form of congratulations.”
As if to demonstrate, Carl made a pistol of his dark-skinned hand and moved his thumb to fire it at Seong.
“That looks like the hair of a woman who is indulging herself this morning,” he said. Joji took advantage of Carl’s hand releasing the syrup and pushed the bottle closer to Carl’s plate. Carl immediately pushed it back. “No cheating. I forgot to put it on the grocery list; you shouldn’t pay for my absent-mindedness.”
I felt the color rising up my face at the implication Seong and I had been up to something already. “We didn’t really…”
But the two men paid me no attention, having returned to their contest of wills over who better deserved the blueberry syrup. Seong tugged me to a couple of chairs, and we sat down together.
“Four pancakes for the two of us, Mother,” she said. “No butter, all on a single plate.”
Mrs. Song made a wordless noise of acknowledgment from her place at the griddle across the kitchen. She wore a lazily tied robe covered in cartoon opossums, and her sculpted wave of hair appeared to have crashed to pieces on a pillow in the night (or on something else this morning).
“No, seriously, I’ll be fine with the maple.”
“You detest maple.”
They went back and forth over it until their wife arrived beside the table with a single plate that she set midway between my place and Seong’s. Without so much as asking, she hooked a finger through the handle of the all-but empty syrup bottle the two men had been shoving back and forth, unscrewed the top, and drained the contents out across the stack of flapjacks she’d put before us.
“I apologize if blueberry syrup ill-suits you, Chelsea Vickers,” she said as the final drizzle ended. “Perhaps your suffering will burden these two men with sufficient guilt to remediate their future behavior.”
“Um… I like blueberry syrup okay, I guess?”
Joji crossed his arms. “Uncalled for, Candora.”
Carl half-stood from the table. “Now I’ll just have to go to the store and get more.”
“There’s powdered sugar and cinnamon butter,” she said, stepping behind him to push down on his broad shoulders until he sat again. “You both like powdered sugar and cinnamon butter, and if that’s not enticing enough on its own, we’ll simply have to take it all into the bedroom where you can eat your breakfast from my naked abdomen.”
Joji and Carl looked at each other, and in almost no time, Seong and I found ourselves alone at the table. The stack of four pancakes on the plate between us stood neatly partitioned into twelve wedges, thanks to some quick work by Seong’s fork and knife.
“Apologies if you would have preferred these buttered,” she said, spearing one section of the stack. “But I know myself to have a palate more selective than yours, and I wanted us to share.”
The fork rose from the plate toward me, so I leaned, opened my mouth, and let her ease the soft, warm slice onto my tongue. I chewed several times, not enough to swallow, before saying, “Very romantic of you, S.”
“No, actually,” she replied. “I’m about to cajole you into telling me the story of Eric and Kellie scandalously borrowing your room for incestuous sex, and I want to be able to control how full your mouth is so that the narrative proceeds at a reasonable pace.”
“Cajole away,” I said. Then I looked down at the plate. “Damn, that’s some fucking good blueberry syrup.”
I opened my mouth toward her and raised my eyebrows high until she let me have another bite, after which she proceeded to feed me breakfast as I dished out the details of Kell and Dad doing it in my bedroom while I hid in the closet.
Both the story and sharing the pancakes with Seong got me really hot. Like, hot enough that by the time we were finished, I pretty much could have climbed on the table with her and done it right there.
But as she walked to the kitchen sink to wash our dish, t-shirt hanging down where it just covered half her delicious ass in her plain pink panties, she said, “Your story has given me an idea.”
Then she looked at me as she turned on the faucet and said, “But it is most likely a different idea than the ones you’re about to tell me the story gave you.”
I closed my mouth, which had dropped open for the specific purpose of saying, “It gave me several ideas too.” With my arms crossed, I narrowed my eyes at her.
“Go on.”
“You said they avoided your bed because they worried you might notice any change to the sheets?” She scrubbed syrup from the plate under a stream of hot water. When I nodded, she went on, “And tell me, are they still in the habit of playing tennis Sunday mornings, showering at the facility, and eating lunch out?”
“Uh-huh,” I said, wondering how those two questions might connect up.
“So.” After a moment of inspection she held the plate back under the faucet and scrubbed some more. “Since we now have the security system code, it seems to me there would be time for us to drive to your place and position a few things strategically in your room while they’re out. Then you could text or call Kellie sometime this week and tell her you intend to come home next weekend and bring me along, and that you’d greatly appreciate her washing your sheets and making the bed so things would be nice for me.”
Some wheels turned in my head, but I guess not as fast as they turned in hers. “Okaay… I’m not sure exactly what — I mean, if she has an excuse to wash my sheets, are you thinking the two of them will take advantage of that to get my bed as dirty as they like beforehand?”
“It stands to reason that they might,” she said, examining the plate again. It must have been clean enough, because she got a dish towel and started drying it.
“But… so? What are we going to do, camp out in my closet for days waiting to spy on them?”
Seong put the plate in a cabinet, then nodded over her shoulder toward the hallway.
“Let me show you something.”
# # #
A few minutes later, we were in her car again. And in the back seat, a plastic bin of electronic equipment rode along with us.
Evidently, Mrs. Song had decided, a few years back, to create a photo-collage self-portrait using thousands of miniaturized pictures of herself. The problem with that was, Mrs. Song absolutely hates to be photographed or recorded on video. So she got the most technically adept of her husbands at the time — a guy named Phil — to install a bunch of motion-activated spy cams throughout the house.
The project ended up a complete bust: instead of relaxing because she couldn’t see anything recording her, Mrs. Song spent the next few weeks cringing around the house under the assumption that no matter where she went, a camera had its eye on her. Even worse, the experience sensitized her to the very idea of surveillance cameras, and she got to the point where she couldn’t even go shopping without constantly watching for security monitors.
So the cameras came down and went in a box in the garage, and they ended up staying in the house longer than Phil.
“I’m still on the fence about the whole two-wrongs-make-a-right part of this,” I said as we reached the highway. “I mean, sure, if we end up getting them on video, we’ll definitely only use it for good and not for evil, but some of those boxes literally say, ‘Spy Camera’ on them. So it’s obviously spying, and if they ever found out…”
“You make a tedious co-conspirator, Sea.” She maneuvered us precisely into the slow lane and then tucked her hair behind her ear like I’d seen her do a million times but never quite enjoyed watching so much. The smooth perfection of her skin and the grace of her profile entranced me. “This is supposed to be a delicious wickedness for us to savor. If you’re going to fret so much, we could just as well turn around and go back to my house and ravage one another.”
“Uh…”
“And ever thereafter,” she added, with a cautioning glance, “you would know that your first full carnal enjoyment of my body resulted in part from a failure of boldness.”
“I would only know that because you’d be sure to remind me on a regular basis.”
“Yes, mercilessly. Possibly every time I have you with your naked body next to mine…” That bit made me swallow. “…which I am thinking will happen far more often than we’ll get a chance to surveil your father and sister as they do it in your bed.”
I squirmed in my seat. “You need to stop talking like that or I’m going to leak through my shorts and get your upholstery all cunty.”
Her shoulders, left bare by the uncharacteristic spaghetti-strap top she’d changed into instead of one of her typical t-shirts, shrugged. “Somehow, I will brave the prospect of your lingering scent as company on my next several trips.”
“You’re really not fucking around with your whole, ‘postponement and anticipation’ approach to us doing it, are you?”
“When have you ever known me to ‘fuck around’ about anything?”
“Pretty much never,” I had to admit. That shrug had drawn my attention to her pale and delicate shoulder, and now my eyes wandered the whole expanse of flesh left showing above the black fabric of her top. Seong is a very small-breasted woman, so there was no cleavage to see, just a little hollow between the little swells of her chest. “I, uh…”
“Yes?”
“Well, you’re just making me super-thirsty right now in multiple ways.” Aha! Time to kill two birds with one stone. “When we hit MacArthur, can you pull into the Shell and let me get something to drink?”
“The Shell station on MacArthur that is literally two minutes from your house?”
“Yes. If I wait till we get to the house, I’ll have to have water or drink something from the fridge, and if I drink something from the fridge, they may notice it’s missing once they’re home.”
“That sounds over-cautious to me, but fine.”
So we stopped debating whether it was right to spy-cam my room, and Seong stopped gratuitously spiking the sexual tension between us, and a few minutes later I dashed into the convenience store, bought a lemonade Gatorade, and chugged about three-quarters of it by the time we wound through the neighborhood to my house.
I think that looks about right, I told myself, eyeing the drink level in the bottle. Now I just have to figure out how to swap it out for the pee one without her noticing.
To be totally honest, the fact that I’d peed in a sports-drink bottle the day before and left it in my room where Seong would a hundred percent see it had been a lot bigger part of my hesitation than whether we really ought to be installing surveillance equipment in my room in hopes of scoring some incest porn.
We parked around the corner from my house, just in case Dad and Kellie had gotten one of those doorbell cameras as part of the new security system. Then we carried the bin of video gear through the side gate into the back yard, where the neighbor dog barked at me through the fence and almost made me drop my end of the box.
As we set it down on the deck, Seong asked, “Why does that dog dislike you so much, Sea?”
“I have no idea,” I said, unlocking the back door. “I swear I’ve never done anything to it. Now wait here while I go through and turn off the system.”
She nodded, and I slipped inside and hurried to the front hall to enter the code in the keypad. It beeped appropriately, and I returned the way I’d come at a more relaxed pace. On the way, I thought of something to say to Seong.
“Okay,” I said, helping her in with the box. “Would you mind maybe giving me a second to go make sure I didn’t leave something really over-the-top slobby in my room for you to shake your head about?”
“No,” she responded, “but I will give you a moment to go and clean up whatever you’ve obviously remembered is there, since it is clearly so over-the-top slobby you don’t want me to see it.”
“Great. You’re the best girlfriend ever.”
I took a step toward the stairs, but Seong’s hand on my wrist pulled me back. When I turned, she drew me to her. “What…”
Her arms went around me, and her chin hooked over my shoulder. I felt her slim shape against mine, bra-less breasts tipped with nipples firm enough for me to feel through my shirt, taut belly pressed flush with my own.
“I have wanted so long to hear you say something like that, Sea.” Her voice lurched helplessly in the middle of it, and her cheek radiated heat into my neck, precious and angelic. “Thank you.”
She felt good.
And I felt wonderful from the simple, pure gratitude in her words, the softness of her front against me, the cool smooth curves of her shoulders beneath my hands where I touched her to return the embrace.
“You’re… you know, like, super-welcome,” I said after a few blissful breaths had gone by. “I really wish Kell had said something to me a couple years ago, so we could have had this the whole time I’ve known you.”
She sighed and pulled back, wiping one eye with a knuckle. “You would not have been ready. And the waiting has made it so much sweeter for me.” Then she popped my upper arm with the back of her hand. “Now go conceal the evidence of your abominable housekeeping so we can return to our skullduggery.”
# # #
So I hurried upstairs, switched the Lemonade flavor Gatorade bottle for the Pee Surprise flavor Gatorade bottle, poured the nasty one quietly into the toilet, hid the empty in the back corner of the cabinet under the sink, and then returned to help her with the bin.
“Really, you could just let me carry this myself, Sea. It’s large and awkward, but the weight is manageable.”
“Girls who skulldug together, lug together,” I said, making her laugh.
When we got it to my room and opened it up, the sheer number and variety of gadgets in the box surprised me almost as much as when she’d shown me back at her house. Mrs. Song had apparently given Phil a crazy budget. There were pen cameras, cameras inside working USB power bricks, cameras inside smoke detectors, cameras as small as a button, teddy-bear cams, boom-box cams, you name it. Way more than we needed, and a lot of them useless to us anyway — I haven’t kept any stuffed animals in my room since seventh grade, and I for damn sure wasn’t getting up on a ladder to try replacing the smoke detector.
Seong dug through it and picked out the ones that would draw the least notice in my room, and then we set them up using wi-fi and a dedicated laptop that was in the bin with the rest of the stuff.
“Now we just have to fine-tune the angles,” she said, once everything had been connected.
“Seriously?” I asked. “We can’t just point them at the bed and be done already?”
“Of course we can,” she said. “I certainly don’t want my obsession with details to bore you, Sea.”
“Really? I mean, great. I mean, not that you’re ever boring…” Come on, Chelse, don’t get all klutzy tongue-tied just because she’s your girlfriend now. Sit back and take the win. “So we can pack the rest up now and get back to your place?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Awesome. I am so –”
“That is, since you don’t want to get in bed and pretend that we’re your father and sister in a wide variety of sexual positions just to make sure the cameras are ideally situated.”
Gulp.
“Um… I guess we… wouldn’t want them to be doing something really hot, only the camera angles didn’t catch it right.”
“Surely an excessive concern? We’ve put up so many cameras. There must be at least one for every possible contingency.”
“Right, but, you know, no harm in checking?”
She gave me a smile, not one of those Seong-barely-moves-her-lips-and-the-sun-shines smiles but a barn-burner of smoky, triumphant lust with her eyes hooded and undressing me. It went on for just a second or two but it also went on forever, and my panties felt like they were full of microwaved butter when she finally ran her tongue across her upper lip and answered me.
“Good.” She took a step closer to the bed. “I will be Kellie. You be your father.”
“Sure,” I said, following with my tongue pretty much hanging out. “Why do you get to be Kell?”
“Because she and I are both much nastier than you. I’m not certain you understand that yet, but you will be learning very quickly.”
“Great.” I put a hand to the top of my head. “Learning cap on.”
Standing one-footed to untie her sneakers, she shook her head and said, “Take that thing off and put your Dad cap on.” Then, with a gesture at the center of the mattress, she added, “Shoes off, stand there.”
“Er… now, Kell –” I heard myself trying to pretend to be Dad and kind of winced at how lame I sounded, so I stepped out of my shoes and tried again, lowering my voice as far as it would go. “Now, Kell, is that any way to talk to your father?”
Flawlessly, Seong moved her lips, and the words came out in her voice but with my sister’s cadence and inflection.
“It is if Daddy wants his dick-hungry daughterlady to deep-throat him in a second here.”
“Holy shit, S — I mean, See — I mean, Kell…”
She just put her hands on her hips and cocked them absolute Kellie-style. I scrambled up to the center of the bed and stood there.
“So, uh, are we going to get naked?”
Pantherlike, she prowled up onto the sheets on all fours.
“You look pretty naked to me already, Pops.” She reached me and set the heel of one hand at my crotch to air-grab an invisible cock there. “Did you not notice this thing sticking out like a broom-handle?”
“Oh, shit,” I said, setting my feet a little wider and tipping my pelvis to push my mound against the empty grip of her hand. She looked up at me with those expressive lips scrunched to one side and a movie critic’s sardonic gaze in her eyes, which made me realize I’d gone back to my own voice. I tried again, deeper: “It’s, uh, pretty dirty here in m- Chelse’s room. I guess as long as you’ve got hold of the broom handle, you should get to cleaning things, right?”
I think I almost made her laugh there — her smile went tight and wobbly like it was trying to hold something in. Then she recovered and said, “Sure. I’ll get right to work.”
What happened next was definitely Seong playing it in character — her mouth opened as wide as it could go, much wider than Kellie’s could (though I for sure wasn’t going to criticize that part of the performance), and her tongue came out, mobile and narrowed to a point. She flicked wetly at some rounded curve hidden in the open air several inches in front of her tight-gripping hand. Then she made a ‘U’ of it to guide that invisible bulb through the gaping portal of her lips and the teeth they were stretched tightly over.
Forward and forward and forward, she leaned, tongue still out and cradling the underside of the cock she pretended to swallow. Those eyes of hers stayed on mine the whole time, luminous and full of hot joy. Holy fuck, I wish I had a dick right now, I thought. No fucking wonder guys love having this done to them.
The tongue retracted as her lips hit her encircling index finger and thumb, and then she sealed her mouth to that ring and tilted her head side to side before bobbing, fast, three times up and down the phantom shaft in her grasp.
“Dayumm, baby, you look good doing that,” I said, doing my best to sound manly. A little sound from Seong’s throat made me think she was trying to keep from laughing. “Fuck! Yes! Go deeper!”
The hand disappeared from my crotch as she lunged forward and up and latched tight to the swollen mound in my shorts.
I couldn’t help gasping in my own voice. “Ah! Nggh…”
She got both hands on my ass and clutched me to her face, burrowing into my groin with her lips still in a suckling ‘O’ as though wrapped tight around the root of my dad’s engorged shaft. “Yes — oh god, yes!”
Then her face dropped away, mouth still rounded until she got about half a foot back, where she brought her lips together and made a little pop!
“I’m so wet for you, Daddy,” she said, falling all the way to the mattress and stretching her legs out between mine. “I need your fat prong up inside me.”
Scissoring wider until I had to step over her left knee and then her right, Seong raised her arms toward me, grasping needfully with both hands.
Oh my god, this is so fucking hot.
I put one hand on my waist and used the other to take hold of my supposed hard-on and waggle it.
“You want this, hmm?”
“Yes, Daddy. Get down here and stick it in my honey-hole.”
As I put one knee to the sheets and then the other, Seong pulled her legs back toward her, bending her knees and widening them still further. The pose stretched her denim shorts tight against the flesh they held, and I found myself with an eyeful of camel-toe and a coal furnace in my belly.
“It’s so pretty, Kells,” I breathed, dropping to all fours and then going lower still until my nose almost touched down on the Y between her thighs. She smelled hot and savory with arousal, and it kind of paralyzed me — having my head filled with another woman’s lust and realizing how much I wanted her for her, not just this incredibly wild fantasy.
Her hands caught me by the ears before I got too carried away with emotion. “Hey, buster! Don’t go all distracted on me — we’re supposed to be getting your junk in my cunt, remember?”
“Uh-huh,” I sighed, letting myself be tugged forward in her grasp. Her eyes held me as firmly as her hands, and I kept moving into place above her even though I wanted to pause at her breasts and nibble the little peaks that jutted there.
But once she had me where she wanted me, her eyes scanned my face in a way that didn’t seem at all Kellie-ish and made me think we were about a second away from leaving pretend-land. So I thought of something to whisper that could be me-me or Dad-me and would maybe help her choose.
With my lips very close to hers, I said, “I’m ready to do whatever you want me to. All you have to do is tell me.”
A tremor went through her, and then she grinned.
“So get it in there, mister. We don’t have all day.”
I smiled back at her and lowered my crotch to hers, hand pretending to encircle and guide a swollen penis just like hers had done — except that I let my thumb stick up, so it landed right in her sweet spot and then rode up along the tight denim, feeling the curves of her womanhood pass beneath it.
“Oh god, Daddy,” she said, eyes wide and all hers even though her voice had Kellie’s down pat. “It feels so nice going in me.”
“Uh-huh,” I replied as my hand moved away and our fully clothed vulvas ground together. Her legs curled up and around me, snugging us tight and setting fireworks off in my head. “That’s… oh, damn, it’s good.”
You know how sometimes, pretending something is better than the thing itself? Like, I’ve had boyfriends who weren’t nearly as good in bed as the orgasms I’d given myself fantasizing about them before we hooked up for real. Well, obviously I would never find out how good it felt to actually be my dad fucking my sister — and no way was dry-humping Seong as good as wet-humping her with our clothes off would have been. Only it turns out that if I put pretend sex between my dad and sister together with pretend sex between me and this amazing person who was suddenly my girlfriend, all that pretending practically made me come as soon as I felt the first bump of her mound against my clit.
And then her mouth was on mine and her arms were pulling me hard against her, and I was fucking my girlfriend and fucking my daughter and fucking my sister all at once. And somehow, between the tongues-down-each-others’-throats kissing and the pubis-on-pubis grinding and the writhing and the roaming of our hands all over one another’s bodies, we managed to stay at least a little bit in character.
“Uh! Uh! Yes, Daddy, bang me!”
“Yes, Kells — oh, baby, this pussy — I love this pussy so much –”
“Fuck it! Fuck the pussy, Dad, I want to… nng! uh!… feel… ah… you… sperming in it! Blow it into me, Daddy, blow your fucking load inside me!”
“Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit, I’m going to cum…”
“YESSSSS! I want it in my BELLLLLYYYY –”
That one totally got me there. I came so hard I could feel my balls unloading into her. Like, whatever it feels like for balls to be doing that just rolled through my body in a wave from my clit to my skull, and in that instant I was absolutely convinced I knew what it was like to have a throbbing, jizz-spouting cock attached to my crotch and spilling its creamy seed deep inside the warm, wet flesh of a hungrily clutching vagina.
When I came down from it, Seong lay glowing beneath me, her body still, her lips oh-so-slightly curled in a satisfied smile, her hands caressing my face softly.
“Um…”
That was all I could manage. Seong laughed.
“It’s all right, Sea,” she said. “I’ll forgive you for losing track of what we were supposed to be doing.”
I felt my face going red. “No, I… uh… I was totally in the zone there. That was my man-cum. I had balls and everything.”
She laughed again. “Oh, dearest girl. No. You had glassy eyes and a mouth that fell open like it had lost itself, and none of that face-clenching or deep-chest groaning that you and I both know men tend to do at the last moment.”
“Well, shit. I really thought I’d gotten it right.”
She lifted up for a quick kiss, then gave me another smile. “You got it exactly right. Just a different ‘it’ than your ambitions had targeted.”
A flutter of pride ran through my chest. “So, uh, you came too?”
“No,” she said. “But I got to see the person I find most deserving of paradise, lifted up to it just by being with me. And I got to make myself a promise that, very soon, you would look upon my face the way I just now saw yours.”
“Are you talking a ‘when we get back to my place’ kind of soon? Or more of an ‘as soon as we get these clothes off’ kind of soon?”
“Well,” she said, “I have an idea about that…”