Wild Sex Tales(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?”Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

“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.