by Clark, Mia
I love it. I kiss her again and just lay like that with her in my arms. She keeps kissing, and we do a back and forth thing. My lips, her lips, mine again.
I whisper something into her ear before closing my eyes again. You want to know what I whisper? Fuck off, I've already told you more than enough. Get out of my head.
*** Ashley
Ohhhhhhhhh...
So this is what it's like? To wake up next to someone, cuddled in their arms, soft and warm and comfortable? Yes, apparently so.
I knew I would know how it felt one day. I've always thought about it, maybe even daydreamed about it a little bit now and again. Or a lot. I just... I thought maybe it was something for everyone else. Not for me. It was for people who were...
Better. Better than me.
Except now I can feel it, too. I admit that I never thought I'd first experience something like this with Ethan, with my stepbrother, but now that it has, I'm kind of glad. I feel more comfortable in a lot of ways. Safer. Because I've lived in this house for years. I've been in this room before, even though we've never really spent much time alone together like this before now. I've seen Ethan in the halls. I've eaten with him; breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I sleep right down the hall from him, too. I can get up, step outside his room, walk to mine, and find all of my things.
It's kind of like we've skipped a step. Sort of. Um...
Because you know how people start dating, and then eventually they move in together, and they can see each other all the time? I know that Ethan and I aren't dating, but we've already moved in together, sort of. We've already seen each other all the time. Even before now I used to see him almost every day during school. Sometimes he was in the same classes as me, but otherwise I'd see him at lunch or recess or after school.
It just makes me feel more comfortable, that's all. Like I can be more of myself around him, even though I've found it difficult to really open up to him before this. To be fair, he hasn't exactly opened up to me, either.
That's alright. After this, things will change. I hope. For the better. Because...
I can feel him against my leg, and it makes me giggle. He's got an erection? In his sleep? I've heard about this, but never seen it firsthand. I reach down his chest, feeling every line of his muscular abs, then a little lower still, to...
His cock. Yesss...
I touch it. Just a little. He twitches, and I grin. I touch him more, wrapping my fingers around him while he sleeps. He squirms in bed then bucks his hips up slightly humping my hand and the air and the blanket above him. Oh no. Is he going to wake up? What if I go slowly?
This... um... feels very wrong, but...
I stroke him very very slowly in my hands, up, then down. He grows even harder, which is almost startling. He's almost too sexual, but it's fascinating in an intoxicating sort of way. I don't know how he does it. I stroke him a couple more times in his sleep and...
No. Oh no. Really? Oh my God, what have I done? Ethan's cock starts twitching and spasming uncontrollably even after I stop, but my fingers are still wrapped around his cock, and um... soon I have his cum on them, too. I definitely didn't mean to do that. Apparently he's very sensitive in his sleep? Or he's been working himself up in a dream for awhile now. I wonder what he's dreaming about?
A part of me hopes it's me. I hope he's dreaming about me. I don't know why. I know it's wrong, but I hope he thinks about me. I hope he...
I carefully slip away from him, trying not to wake him. I hold the blankets up so I can slide my hand free and not make a mess on his sheets with my now cum-covered hand. It's um... well, huh! I didn't even know something like that could happen. Now I know, right? I guess it's a good thing to have found out, though I'm not sure when I'll ever be able to put this new knowledge to use. Probably never, but that's alright.
Ethan opens his mouth and yawns, then reaches towards me, but I slip away quick. I place a pillow in his arms instead and he wraps around it, hugging it tight. Like he's hugging me. I wonder if that's what he means to do?
No, that's stupid. He doesn't mean to do anything. He's asleep.
I accidentally lick my hand. Which is to say I just don't realize what I'm doing until I stop to think about it, but I'm definitely licking Ethan's cum off my hand. To be fair, I kind of like it. It tastes good. A little sweet. I've heard that this doesn't taste good, but I don't have any other experience to measure it by, and Ethan's tastes good, so I'll just go with that. I should probably be getting a tissue or going to the bathroom to clean this off, but...
Nope! I can do what I want!
I lick the rest off, grinning to myself. My little secret, right? Mhm.
And now to... what?
I'm going to make him breakfast, I decide. Ethan made me breakfast, and now I'll make him breakfast. My legs are sore, though. And more. I feel like I've used muscles I've never used before, some of which are decidedly centered on the core of my body. Um... inside me... and yes, I know there are muscles there, but it's just weird to have a constant, aching reminder that maybe they've recently had quite an extensive workout.
It's fun, though. A sore, sexy fun. I like it, because it reminds me of Ethan and what we did together. And I liked that, so...
I find my panties from the night before and slip them on, then I grab Ethan's t-shirt. It's too big for me, but I put it on anyways. Just those two things, my panties and his shirt. It's not like there's anyone else here, so what does it matter, right?
I sneak out of his room, then skip down the hall to the stairs. Every step I take sends a tingling ache through my body, a light reminder of exactly what Ethan and I were doing last night. Mmm...
When I get downstairs, I head to the kitchen, and...
What to make, what to make. Hm...? Ethan likes omelets. Do we have spinach and feta cheese? I check the fridge quick and, yes, we do! Plus tomatoes and hunks of chicken breast, which, if you ask me, sounds like the perfect ingredients to make a Greek-style omelet. I take all of those out, along with the eggs, and put them on the counter.
Maybe French toast, too? Ethan's dad buys this special sort of thick bread that's nice as either French toast or garlic bread slices, but we don't always have it, so I check and... yes! We do. That sounds nice, doesn't it?
I start to crack eggs to make the French toast glaze, mix mix swirl, a woman on a mission. That's me. Everything is going well, but then the buzzer sounds for the front gates. I check the clock and it's still early, so it's probably just the mailman delivering a package. I skip to the front door and click the button to open the gates for him, then head back to the kitchen. He'll probably just leave the package unless I have to...
The doorbell rings. Ugh. Yup, have to sign for the package. Oh well.
I don't usually walk around the house half naked, so I kind of belatedly realize what I must look like, but Ethan's shirt is long and it covers everything important, so I guess it's fine. My thighs are half revealed, and the rest of my legs are bare, but other than that no one can really see much. I open the door to sign for the package and...
Well, that's not a package, now is it? I recognize the boy standing on our front stoop. One of Ethan's friends. He looks indifferent at first, but when he sees me standing there, his eyes widen and he perks up, then smiles.
"Hey," he says.
"Um... hello," I say.
"Ethan here?" he asks.
"He's sleeping," I say.
"Ah, cool, cool. He told me to come by sometime this week, so figured I'd stop over."
"Oh." I guess? What can I really say to that? "I can go get him if you want?"
"Nah, it's cool. Mind if I come in and wait for him to wake up?"
I suppose not? I don't know. I'm not sure why Ethan wants him to come over, to be honest. Maybe it's important? I shrug and step aside and he steps inside.
"Johnny," he says, holding out his hand in greeting.
"Ashley," I say, taking his hand, intending to shake it. He pulls it up to his lips and kisses the back of
my hand instead, though.
I freeze. Mostly because this is strange. I guess it's nice? Chivalrous? It just makes me uncomfortable, that's all. Probably mostly because of what I'm wearing.
I pull my hand back and try not to stammer. "Ummm... well, you can just wait around, I guess. Ethan will probably be up soon. I'm just making breakfast."
"Yeah, that's cool," Johnny says. "I'm not in a hurry."
I close the door and lock it, then hurry back to the safety of the kitchen. The living room is further down the hall, easy to find and see, and that's definitely where he'll go wait for Ethan, so I can just stay in here, make breakfast, and...
No, apparently not. Johnny stands in the doorway of the kitchen, watching me. I don't realize it at first because I'm busy whisking eggs to make omelets, but then when I turn around, I nearly jump out of my skin. The whisk clatters to the ground, but I manage not to tip the bowl over, too.
When I bend down to pick up the whisk, I realize that Ethan's shirt is very loose on me and I didn't bother putting my bra on. Looking up, I see Johnny looking down, leering at me, a wicked grin on his face. He steps into the kitchen, moving closer to me. Too close. I don't like this. I back away from him, trying to put distance between us, but he doesn't take the hint.
"You look like you could use some help," he says, putting one hand on my hip.
I stiffen and freeze. I'm trapped, by his body and the counter in front of me. He's standing behind me, cornering me with his hand on my hip, his other arm leaning against the counter, looming over my shoulder. His fingers grab at the cloth of my shirt and pull it up a little until he can slide his hand underneath. Now he's touching me directly, his palm against my bare side, the edge of his fingers resting against my panties.
"What are you making?" he asks.
I shiver, teeth chattering, but somehow manage to say, "Ummmm... omelets... and French toast..."
"You're shivering," he says, amused. "You cold, babe? Maybe you should take a break. I can help keep you warm. Give me something to do while I wait, right? You want to be a good host and show me to a room where we can have some private time together?"
He asks me this, but it's obvious he doesn't actually want me to answer him. He's already pulling me away from the counter, pulling me closer to him, his hand creeping up my stomach, his other hand moving to my side, to my panties. He tries to reach under the waistband of my panties just as he moves his hand up to the underside of my breasts, and I... I freeze... I... this has never... um... what do I...
I feel a sharp jerk, and then nothing. I'm standing alone again, no one's touching me. I stumble and fall towards the counter. My hands clap against the countertop and I hold myself up, regaining my balance, then spin around because...
It's Ethan. My stepbrother. He must have grabbed Johnny and pulled him away from me. They're facing each other now. Sort of. It's a fraction of a second. Everything happens so fast. Ethan's holding Johnny's shirt collar tight in his hands, keeping him at arm's length, then he punches him.
As easy as that. Simple. Nothing to it. Ethan winds back and slams his fist into Johnny's jaw with an audible slap of knuckle against cheek, a sickening crack sound following soon after.
"Man, what are you..." Johnny starts to say, his words coming out slurred and broken.
Ethan pulls him back up, not letting him fall, then he twists him around and shoves him to the entrance of the kitchen. Johnny slips on the smooth tile floors and falls face first against the hallway rug.
"That's my fucking sister, you prick!" Ethan shouts at him. "What the fuck are you doing? Get the fuck out of here!"
"Man, I was just being friendly. What the fuck? She's the one that opened the door half naked. It's not my fault."
Ethan glares at him. I feel like maybe he's going to kill him. I don't know why. It's silly. Ethan won't kill someone, will he? Um... I didn't think so before, but now I'm not so sure. I rush over and cling to Ethan's back, wrapping my arms around him.
"Please stop?" I whisper. "I'm fine, I just..."
I'm not fine. I'm shaking. I'm scared. Doubly scared. I'm scared of what Johnny was doing, but I'm also scared of what Ethan might do to him because of that.
"You ever touch her again, I'll fucking kill you," Ethan says, practically spitting on him. "I don't fucking care if she opens the door naked. Got it? That doesn't give you the right to do anything, you stupid fuck."
"Whatever, man," Johnny says. "You asked me to come over so I came over. Didn't mean to fuck with your sister. I thought she wanted it."
"She doesn't. Now get out."
There might have been more to it, but I'm not sure. Ethan "escorts" Johnny out while I stay in the kitchen. My knees shake and I have to hold onto the counter to keep myself from crashing to the ground in a wobbly, trembling mess. A few minutes later Ethan comes back and he sees me like that, scared, shaking.
"Ohhh, Princess," he says. He sounds hurt. Why is he hurt? I'm the one who...
Is that why he's hurt? It makes my heart melt. I want to think that's the real reason, but I'm not sure.
He comes to my side and puts his arm around me. "Come on, let's go sit down, alright?"
I nod and go with him when he starts to walk. We move slow, careful. I can barely keep my footing, but Ethan holds me tight, never letting me go. We head to the sunroom overlooking the pool, then sit in one of the benches there. It's nice out, and the glass walls of the room magnify the heat of the sun, making it cozy and warm in here.
Ethan sits on the bench and pulls me down with him. I curl close to him, hovering against him. He's so warm and soft and this room is warmer still. I like it a lot.
"I don't know what happened," I say quietly, whispering into his ear. "Ethan, I just... I thought he was the mailman delivering a package, so I went to the door without thinking, and then... I was just going to make us breakfast. I didn't know he was coming and I don't know why he did that."
"Because he's a stupid fucking prick," Ethan says. "A stupid fucking prick who thinks any girl without pants on his just asking to fuck."
"I didn't, though," I say. "I didn't ask him to do that. I didn't want him to. I..." Oh no. I start to cry. "You don't think I did, do you? You believe me, right?"
Ethan chokes up, startled. "Princess, don't cry. Of course I believe you. Ashley, I know you'd never do that."
"But I... I..." I did. I have. Yesterday. With him. I... "What about..."
I think he realizes it. I think he must. He knows what I'm about to say, about us, about...
"It's different," he says. "Yeah, fuck, maybe we shouldn't be doing it, either, but it's different. I wouldn't do anything unless you wanted me to. You know that, right? You can tell me to stop any time and I will. Promise me you'll tell me if you want me to stop, alright?"
I nod fast, tears dripping down my cheek and splashing against his chest. He doesn't have a shirt on, I realize. He's wearing pants, but not a shirt. I have his shirt, but no pants. I guess that makes us a pair? The thought makes me laugh a little, but then I'm crying still, and it must look ugly and wretched to laugh and cry at the same time.
That's me. That's how I've always been. No one's ever wanted to be with me. No one.
Ethan has. He's with me right now.
For a week. That's it. Does that even count?
"Do you think we should stop?" I ask. "I mean, do you think we should stop this? Ethan, I don't think what we're doing is good. I don't think we're supposed to do this."
"What do you want?" he asks. "You tell me what you want, Princess. Do you want to stop? We can if you want."
"Am I forcing you?" I ask. "Is it like that for you? Do you want to or do you feel bad and that's why?"
"Nah," he says, smiling softly. He kisses my cheek, kisses away my tears. I cuddle closer to him, nuzzling against his lips. "It's not like that, Princess. I'll stop if you want to stop, but if you want to go, well... fuck, I'm ready."
I laugh, remembering this morning. "I know," I say. "I can tell. Um
... did you feel weird when you woke up?"
He scrunches up his brow, looking at me funny. "Huh?"
"Um... when I woke up, you were... you... you had an erection, and um... I just kind of wanted to touch it. I didn't know guys actually had erections in their sleep. So I did. But then I started doing a little more and then..."
"That was you?" he asks, smirking. "Fuck, I thought I had a wet dream or something. Haven't had one of those in years, though, so it was a little weird."
"Um, nope, that was me," I say, shy. "I didn't mean to. It was an accident."
"It's cool," he says. "Surprised me when I woke up, but now that you've told me, it's pretty sexy."
"Sexy?" I ask. "Really?"
"Yeah, sexy as fuck. God, Ashley, when I saw you wrap your hand around my cock last night, I almost fucking exploded. Do you even know how much you turn me on?"
I laugh a little and wriggle in his arms, but he pulls me close, keeping me tight to him. "Are you being serious?" I ask.
"Yeah, super serious," he says. "Never been more serious in my life."
"Other girls probably turn you on more, though," I say. "I'm just kind of average."
"Nah," he says. "Listen, I know you're just going to think I say this to every girl, but I don't. I'm saying it to you right now, and I mean it. It's just you, Princess. I've never been with anyone sexier than you. I've never been with anyone who's turned me on more than you have. Never."
"Liar..." I say, mumbling.
"You want me to prove it?" he asks, grinning with devilish intent.
One of his hands moves to cup my breast, and my nipple stiffens immediately upon contact. He kneads and massages my breast, gently twisting and tweaking my nipple between his fingers over my shirt.
"I..."