TABOO TALES(erotica)

We collapsed on the bed and lay together for a long time afterwards, not speaking. Then she stirred, her fingers gently smoothing my hair back from my forehead, turning toward me so that we could see each other.

Her eyes crinkled. “I suppose it is not a good time to tell you that I’m really a guy.”

I reached down and ran my index finger over her sodden slit. “Good surgery. Anyway, I meant to tell you on our first date that I’m really into guys.”

She laughed, a throaty, sexy chuckle. “That’s no problem then.” She stretched out languorously, her breasts riding up so that the nipples were vertical and I could see the outline of her ribs through the satin skin. “Fuck, that was good!”

“It sure was.”

My heart was an empty vessel in my chest. I could never tell her that at the moment of my release it was Beth’s slim form that I envisaged under me, her pony tail thrashing from side to side as she welcomed her brother’s cock deep into her hungry young body.

*****

I saw a lot of Susan over the next few weeks. She didn’t actually move in, but I gave her a key and she stayed over most weekends and the occasional weekday as well. We got on well: it wasn’t just a physical attraction, but a shared interest in things. She was an easy conversationalist and our sense of humour was very similar. The sex was dynamite.

One Sunday we were lying in bed, bedclothes in disarray and sweat drying on our skins. I was on my back, looking up at a little rainbow of colour that the morning sun had thrown there as it was refracted though the window. She was on her side, one thigh resting over my lower body and her head on my chest. I could smell the sharp freshness of her hair. She spoke, her voice soft.

“David, who is Beth?”

“My sister.”

“How come you’ve never mentioned her?”All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

I did a quick mental audit of all of the conversations we had ever had. It was true. I had never once mentioned Beth to Susan. I wondered what had triggered the question, and how she knew about her.

“Not much to mention, really. We don’t get on very well.”

She lifted her head and turned to face me. “You were talking in your sleep last night.”

“Really? What did I say?”

“Quite a lot.” Her head sank back onto my chest. “You were with Beth and were angry, I think. Shouting at her, telling her that she was a slut. Then you calmed down mumbled for a while, and then….”

The silence drew out.

“Then what?”

“You started talking to her…. about being inside her, fucking her. How she was tight and good and you loved her.” She pushed herself up so that she could see my face, and her eyes were liquid pools swimming in her face. “It was full-on. I tried to wake you but you wouldn’t. It was like you were there with her.” She paused for a moment, regarding me. “You were very intense and I wasn’t with you. I felt like… a voyeur.”

I forced a smile to my lips. “Wow! That’s kinky. Did I enjoy it?”

“You seemed to be.”

“Did I come?”

“Yes. No. It’s not funny. You were crying out. It’s almost as if it were real to you.” She sank back down and her voice was muffled as she spoke again. “I know it was a dream, but it made me feel bad.”

I touched her hair softly. “That’s all it was, baby, just a dream. Only a dream.”

“That’s what I’m worried about” she said.

*****

Beth came to stay for a week over Easter. Susan was away again, so it suited my purpose as I didn’t ever want the two to meet, and seven days should be sufficient to do what I wanted. She arrived on the doorstep wearing a short blue dress and lace up sandals, a baseball hat with her pony-tail fed through the back and her sunglasses perched on the top. I opened the door and she looked up at me.

“I’m here.”

“So I see. Come in Beth.”

She walked into the lounge and dropped her shoulder bag on the table, looking around the room. “Interesting house.”

“Come on, I’ll show you around.” We walked though to the end bedroom which she would be having, its double bed pushed against the wall. I’d bought a brightly coloured bedspread which looked good in the afternoon sun slanting in through the double windows opposite, set off by a vase of daffodils on the bedside table. The room looked cosy and comfortable, but she said nothing.

We walked down the narrow corridor, and she peered into my bedroom as we passed. “Ah, The Cockpit. Has Susan moved in yet?”

“Does it look like she has?”

She shrugged. “Who knows?”

I stopped abruptly and turned on her. “Well, she hasn’t. And if you don’t like it here, feel free to move out.”

Beth held up her hands, palms facing me. I could see her make an effort to collect herself. “Sorry. I’m out of order. I’ll try to be nice.” She looked up into my face and read the anger still there, so she reached up and touched me on the shoulder. “Really. I don’t know why I said that. Thanks for inviting me.”

I hadn’t really invited her, but being here would serve my purpose. “OK, truce.” I moved further down the corridor. “Here’s the bathroom – we have to share as there’s only one.”

She nodded. “I’ll keep my knickers on, then.”

I tested her a bit. “Not on my account. I can be broad minded.”

“Trust me,” she said, “You’re not that broad minded. I’ll keep ’em on.”

We moved on, and she paused at the door to the third bedroom. “What’s in here?”

“Store room, I guess. Jim’s got the key so I’m not sure what he’s got in there – junk, most likely. Pity, as it means I’ve really only got two bedrooms.” I fingered the key in my pocket. “What are your plans tonight? I’ve cooked a meal and there are a couple of good movies to watch.”

“Lorna’s picking me up in a few minutes. Girls’ night out. I’ll be back later.”

“How much later?”

She shrugged, as if it had nothing to do with me. “When I feel like it. Don’t worry, I won’t rob you of the beauty sleep you need so badly. Leave me a key and I’ll let myself in.”

“No need. The door will be open.” I had no intention of ever giving her a key.

A few minutes later she left. I walked to the front door and watched as she drove away with Lorna in her clapped out Daihatsu, its wheels sagging and the exhaust tied on with a piece of fencing wire. The gruesome-twosome heading into town and up to no good, I thought, and I figured some poor smuck was going to get a truckload of trouble tonight.

Back in the flat I checked through the arrangements I had made: all of the things I wanted were in place and I was ready. It all depended on her, now – she needed to be home tonight, drunk enough to help me in my plan but sober enough to do one final thing before I set it in motion.

It was about half past one when I heard the latch click and the sound of her footsteps in the hallway. She came into the lounge, weaving slightly, surprised to see me still up. She was disheveled, her lipstick smeared a little and she carried her shoes in her hand, the heel broken off one of them.

“Have a good evening?”

“Lorna’s a fucking bitch.” Her face was malevolent.

“Really. That’s very eloquent, Beth, but tell me something I don’t know.”

She turned on me and I could see her trying to think of something suitably cutting, but the effort was too much. She sank back into the chair. “Fuck her! And fuck you, too!” She closed her eyes.

I went though to the kitchen and quickly heated up the milk I had ready and I tipped in the tablets I had obtained from the pharmacy. Together they contained about 15 milligrams of Docylamine Succinate, an anti-histomine agent with similar characteristics to a barbiturate. I knew its effect on her as I had offered her a similar tablet a year or two back when she was studying for her examinations and she could not sleep. On that occasion five milligrams had knocked her out for the night. This dose was three times that amount and I knew that it would have the desired effect but without danger. At worst she would wake with a hangover, dry mouth and perhaps an elevated pulse. With the alcohol she had drunk there was likely to be some disorientation as well, which would suit my purpose.

When I came back to the lounge she was still in the chair. I thought she might be asleep and I shook her.

“What!?”

“I’ve made you a drink, Beth. Take it. You’ll feel like shit tomorrow if you don’t.”

She took it and drank, handing me the empty cup. “I’m going to sleep.”

I helped her up she walked unsteadily down the hallway to her room. After a moment I heard the toilet flush and the sound of running water in the bathroom, and then her footsteps as she made her way to her room.

The clock tower two streets away was striking three o’clock as I moved down the corridor. Her door was ajar and the bedside light was still on, and she was lying across the bed on her back, fully dressed, snoring slightly. The room was filled with the sharp, acrid odour of vomit and I noticed that she had been sick on the bed; a little had stained the top of her dress. I wondered how much of the drug was still in her system and I leaned over her and shook her lightly. If she woke I’d pretend that I she had been having a nightmare and I was concerned for her.

“Beth, wake up.” No response. Louder. “Beth. Beth. Wake up!”