Unspoken Pleasure (erotica)

Mom was waiting there for us, hands on her hips, in standard mom position. The rest of the family had already scattered. The kitchen was so tiny, it made our mother look like a giant. Even more imposing than usual.

“You two are up to something,” Mom said. Her voice was not kind.

The sink was running behind her, stacked to the brim with dishes. A reminder of yet another indignity we’d had to endure with the new house: it didn’t even have a dishwasher.

“We’re hanging out,” I said, shrinking under my mom’s pointed interrogation.

Mom shook her head. “It’s more than that. I see you two sneaking off at all hours. Always in Lucy’s room with the door shut. What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” I said.

“Nothing,” Lucy said, “Like Dylan told you, we’re just hanging out. Playing games. You know.”

Mom’s glare deepened, like Jan’s had done. Her eyes narrowed, a mirror of Lindsay’s from earlier.

“You’re up to something,” she said, “And I don’t like it. Your father and I, this family, we’re all going through a lot right now. It’s bad enough as is and if you two make it worse, even the tiniest, littlest bit…”

“We’re not,” Lucy said, “We won’t. I promise.”

Mom’s look didn’t soften, but she let out a deep breath. “Fine,” she said. She waved us out of the kitchen. “You’re both old enough that you don’t have to live with us anymore. So, I expect you to be on your best behavior.”

“Of course,” Lucy said.

“Understood,” I said.

We escaped back to Lucy’s bedroom. That night’s session felt strained and anxious. Rushed and unfulfilling. But we still did it.

And that was the larger issue. For all those close calls, for all the very real consequences that came with them, we never stopped what we were doing. We didn’t step back or rethink our actions. You’d think that with everything that had gone on, with every warning sign we’d passed, that we’d learn our lesson.

Instead, we escalated.

*

“You ever think about stuff?” Lucy asked, “You know, when we’re doing this?”

We were both post-peak, lying back like bomb victims on Lucy’s hardwood floor. It was surprisingly comfortable after a good, hard cum.

“You mean, like, other people?” I asked.

“Yes,” Lucy said, “I mean, you’re not focusing on how you’re making it with my bedroom floor, are you?”

“Of course not,” I said.

“You picture anyone specific?” Lucy asked.

“Nah,” I said, “It’s kind of random. Just ‘a girl,’ you know?”

My older sister rolled onto her side, giving me a dubious look.

But I recognized a no-win situation when I saw one. If I said I thought about Lucy, I was an incest-obsessed pervert. But if I said some other girl, then I risked hurting my older sister’s feelings. So, I turned to my only defense, and turned the question back to Lucy.

“What about you?” I asked, “You ever think about anyone?”

“Not really,” Lucy said in a mocking voice, “Just, you know, ‘a boy.'”

There was a heavy pause. Each of us waited for the other to crack under the weight of it.

“Come on,” Lucy said.

“You started it,” I replied. Oh, so very mature.

“Fine,” Lucy said, with an exasperated sigh. “There is this one guy at school. He’s kinda tall with dark hair. Muscular. Sometimes I picture him.”

“This guy have a name?” I asked.

“Probably?” Lucy said, “I’ve never talked to him. I see him in class sometimes.”

“It’d be weird if he didn’t have a name,” I said, “Like, if he was called Random Hotguy or whatever.”

“I’d call him Randy,” Lucy said.

“Well, that seems appropriate,” I said.

I played at being coy, but I couldn’t help but feel a little hurt as my sister described a crush who was almost the exact opposite of my skinny, short, light-haired self. I knew it was stupid to feel jealous. For one, she was my sister and so completely off limits. For another, I’d literally forced her to say something. So, what did I expect, exactly?

But that didn’t stop me from seething in the moment. And so, I felt the need to take some measure of revenge.

“There is this one girl,” I said.

“Do tell,” Lucy said.

“She’s, um, got brown hair. Brown eyes. Short. She’s skinny but in kind of a cute way.”

“And where did you find this alluring coat rack?” Lucy asked. Her face was turning sourer by the second.

“You know, around,” I said.

“Like around the house maybe?” Lucy asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Please, you’re obviously talking about Kara,” Lucy said.

“I’m not perving on your best friend,” I said.

Lucy rolled her eyes at me.

“Fine. Maybe a little bit,” I said.

Lucy shook her head, dismissively.

“What?” I asked. “What’s wrong with Kara? She’s your friend, isn’t she?”

“I just think you could do better,” Lucy said. I realized it, suddenly. Lucy wasn’t playing around. Her feelings were actually, honestly hurt. As if she hadn’t done the same thing to me moments before.

“Well, what about Randy?” I asked. “I mean, the guy doesn’t even have a real name. Don’t you think you should set your sights a little higher?”

Lucy went quiet. She pursed her lips. The air in the room felt thick and heavy. Filled with anger and resentment. More than either of us could carry. After weeks of unbreakable buoyancy, this one silly conversation had popped us both.

I started to get off the floor, but Lucy stopped me.

“There is this one other guy,” she said. Her cheeks went a little red.

I realized my sister was making a peace offering and, fortunately, I was smart enough to accept it. I let myself be held in place.

“He’s really cute, kinda handsome,” Lucy said, “Light brown hair. Nice body.” She ran her eyes up and down me, like punctuating her point.

I let out a loud sigh and lay back down on the floor. “Seriously?” I asked.

“I mean, you’re right next to me,” Lucy said. “It’s kind of hard not to. I see your face. Your eyes. You’re actually quite attractive you know that?”

“Even though I’m short and skinny with light hair, and have an actual real name?” I said.

“Even though,” Lucy said.

“Well, as long as we’re being honest, there is this other girl I sometimes think about,” I said, “She’s very pretty. Gorgeous, honestly. And her body is like, wow. She’s really hot.”

Lucy looked down at herself, dubiously. “Not too fat?” she asked.

“Oh my God, no,” I said immediately. “She’s practically fucking perfect.”

“Wow,” Lucy said. She breathed it out in a little sigh. Almost like one of the sounds she’d make when she was about to peak.

“Anyway, I know I shouldn’t but…”

“It’s OK,” Lucy said, “I get it.Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.

“Like you said, it’s hard not to,” I said, “In the moment. You’re there, you know? Feeling you bump against me. Hearing your little noises. It’s kinda awesome, actually.”

“Kind of?” Lucy asked, but I could see she was teasing. “You sure you wouldn’t rather a certain skinny brunette?”

“I prefer blondes,” I said. A pause. “Are you OK with that? I know it’s wrong and all, but.”

“I’m fine with it,” Lucy said. She put her hand on mine. Just that little touch felt electric. “As long as you’re OK with me doing it, too.”

“Yeah,” I said, “Yes. I’m OK with that.”

Everything seemed settled. The next day went on as normal. Even that night, when we held our regular pressing session, it was like nothing had changed.

But when Lucy reached her apex, she gasped out. “Oh Dylan,” she said, “So good.”

Then dropped limp to the floor.

*

And so, we started talking.

Again, never outside our little meetups. We didn’t get flirty in the kitchen or tease each other in front of the TV. But when we’d press, it was like one long running conversation. Whether we were talking to ourselves or communicating with each other I can’t say for sure. But we became downright chatty as we made ourselves cum.

“Oh, that’s the spot. Right there,” Lucy said.

“Fuck that’s nice,” I said, “So good.”

“Gonna cum… So close,” Lucy said.

“Ah… cumming…” I said.

Nothing else changed.

There were times when I wished for more. I imagined Lucy taking her shirt off, her massive tits trembling as she took herself to paradise. I thought about grabbing her hand when I came. Or, for that matter, us giving up on the floor and grinding against each other.

These were passing thoughts, fast fantasies, that usually disappeared immediately post-press. Despite our daily actions, the things we said to each other, I kept Lucy filed safely away in my ‘sister’ folder. I was unable to imagine ever storing her under a different category.

Summer stretched languid around us. Dad, Mom, and our older sister Jan all got busy with work. Our younger sister Lindsay disappeared all day to be with her friends. Family dinners were few and far between. Lucy and I mostly hung out with each other.

The next step was probably inevitable.

“Fuck that feels so good,” Lucy said as she pressed down on her pillow. We were back in my older sister’s bedroom, doing what we did best — getting ourselves off while we got on with each other.

“You like that?”

“Oh yes,” Lucy said, “Oh Dylan you have no idea. How good this makes me feel.”

“I’d be damn better than a pillow,” I said.

“And I’m sure I’m much more than a floor,” Lucy said, “You want that? Feel my body — AH! — beneath you?”

“So soft and warm,” I said, “Your breasts. That ass.”

“So hard,” Lucy said, “Aching. Thrusting. OH! Oh Dylan. I’m getting close. You gonna let your big sister cum for you?”

“Please. I’m there, too. Let go. I want to see it. Feel it. Feel you cum.”

“Oh OH! Oh yes!” Lucy shook. Shuddered.

As if her orgasm sparked mine, the pleasure overwhelmed me. Hot spurts shooting down my leg.

“Oh, fuck that was good,” Lucy said.

She rolled over and kissed me on the top of the head.