Phoenix Rising

by Anais Ninja

  “Can I give you a ride home?” he asked.

  “No thanks,” I said. “I’d like to walk. It’s not far.”

  “I hope we can see you again,” Steve said.

  “I’m flying home on Sunday, but I might be back for spring vacation,” I said.

  “I hope you can call this your home someday,” Krystle said. She and Steve gave me a hug and a kiss and then I left, stepping into the cool night air.

  The route I took home brought me past Jack’s place, and I stood outside his house trying to see if there was a light on inside. I’d been well and truly fucked by Steve, and Krystle had gone to town on my cunny, but I still had a yen for the feeling of Jack’s huge cock stretching my tender little hole. I waited a few minutes, trying to see if the bedroom light was on, but he must have been asleep, even though it was just past ten o’clock. I let out a little sigh of disappointment and walked back to the house.

  Schultzie was there to greet me at the door, wagging his tail, having heard my key in the lock. I gave him a friendly scratch behind the ear and a pat on his furry flank, heading down the hall to Dana’s bedroom. Her door was open and the light was on, but she wasn’t in bed. I could see a light on in David’s room through the gap under his door, and I heard the sound of his unplugged guitar, a tortoise shell pick on steel strings, the squeak of fingers on the neck.

  I heard a giggle and a hushed voice, Dana’s voice, coming from inside my father’s den. I stood by the door and listened, and then I knocked softly.

  “Come in,” my father said.

  He was seated on the couch, wearing just a t-shirt and boxer shorts. Dana was on his lap, dressed only in her little pink cotton panties, her arm around his shoulder. There was a nearly-empty bottle of tequila on the floor in front of the couch, along with his instant camera and a couple of dozen photographs. I sat down next to them.

  “I missed you, Annie,” Dana said, reaching out for a hug.

  “I missed you, too, baby,” I said, kissing her button nose.

  “How was dinner?” my father asked.

  “It was fun,” I replied. “Come on, Dana. It’s time for bed.”

  “But Daddy said I could stay up a little longer.”

  “It’s a school night, sweetie,” I said. “Wash up and brush your teeth and I’ll tuck you in, okay?”

  “Okay,” she said, and she left the room. As my father took a swig from the bottle, I leaned over and sifted through the pictures he’d taken, all of Dana in various stages of undress. In one shot, she’d pulled aside the crotch of her panties and exposed her bald little cunny.

  “I’m going to put her to bed,” I said to my father. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “Fine,” he said.

  After I helped Dana into her nightie and tucked her into bed, giving her a kiss on the lips before turning out the light, I went back into my father’s office. He was still on the couch, flipping through the photographs, his erection tenting his shorts.

  “Where’s Mia?” I asked him.

  “She took something for her back and fell asleep.”

  “Dana’s too young for this, Daddy,” I said, looking at a picture of her sitting on the couch, her legs spread wide, her panties pulled tight over her labia.

  “I know, Annie,” he said. “I didn’t touch her. I just took some pictures.”

  “Dana’s curious about you, Daddy. She saw me suck you in her room that night,” I said, snuggling up to him. “She asked me if it would hurt.”

  “What would hurt?”

  “Your cock, Daddy.” I reached into his boxer shorts and fished out his erection. My father put his arm around my shoulder, caressing my arm.

  “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her,” he said. “I promise.”

  “Thank you, Daddy,” I said, slowly stroking his thick shaft. I felt him reaching behind me, unzipping my dress, slipping his hand inside and rubbing my back.

  “What did you do at Krystle’s?”

  “We had cocktails, and then dinner, and then we went upstairs.”

  “Steve fucked you?”

  “Twice.”

  “Was he good?” my father asked.

  “Not as good as you, Daddy,” I said, leaning my head against his shoulder.

  “That’s my girl,” he said, kissing me on the cheek.

  “Krystle told him.”

  “Told him what?”

  “About you and her,” I said.

  “She did?” my father said, surprised. “How did he take it?”

  “Okay, I guess. I think being with me sort of made up for it.”

  “I’ll bet,” he said. “Tell me about it. I want to hear.”

  “They have a whole room they call a ‘playroom’. Big bed, a chest full of toys and stuff, plastic sheets on the bathroom floor...”

  “Plastic sheets?”

  “They like to pee on each other. Didn’t you know that?”

  “I knew she was into some kinky stuff, but not this,” my father said. “So, she pissed on you?”

  “Actually, I did it on her.” My father had the bottle to his lips and was taking a sip, but he choked when he heard me say this, spewing tequila all over the place.

  “Let me get this straight,” he said. “You urinated on my boss. Is that right? You pissed on the person who signs my paychecks?”

  “Yes, Daddy,” I said. “Are you angry?”

  “Angry? That’s the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” he said, hugging me, kissing me on the cheek, handing me the bottle. I took a small sip and passed it back to him. I’d had plenty to drink that night, even though the cocaine kept me from feeling too drunk and drowsy. “So then what happened?”

  “We washed off and then Steve watched me and Krys for a while,” I said. “Then we went down to their hot tub.” I didn’t feel like getting into details, or telling him about Miguel and Pilar, or all the drugs we’d done. It just didn’t feel right, like I was betraying a confidence. I’d told him just enough to satisfy his curiosity.

  “I wish I could have been there,” my father said. “Even as a fly on the wall.”

  “Maybe some other time,” I said. “They want to have me back.”

  “I’m sure they do,” he said. “Who wouldn’t want to be with a pretty girl like you?”

  “Thank you, Daddy,” I said, gently squeezing his hard cock.

  “Take off your dress for me, baby,” he said. “I want to see what you’re wearing underneath.” I stood up and shrugged my black sheath dress off of my shoulders and stepped out of it, standing in front of my father in my lacy black undies and stockings. He pulled me close, running his hands over my thighs and bottom, leaning forward to kiss my belly. I slowly got down on my knees, kneeling between his legs, taking his hardness in my hands again, stroking it, squeezing it, leaning forward and kissing the tip, parting my lips and engulfing him, swirling my tongue over his glans.

  My father stroked my hair, my shoulders, my back as I slowly sucked him. I reached into his boxers and cupped his balls, fondling his testicles as I pleasured him with my mouth. I knew he was close to his release as soon as my lips closed around his shaft. He must have been hard all evening, as he snapped pictures of a nearly naked Dana posing on the couch. My father’s cock began to twitch in my mouth, a steady drip of precum oozing from the tip. Suddenly he squeezed my shoulder and I felt him begin to throb, his glans flaring as he erupted in a big gusher of cum. It tasted sweeter than usual, and I knew he’d been hitting the bottle all night. I swallowed his thick cream, milking him with my lips until the last dribble of semen passed through his penis, keeping him in my mouth until he began to soften. Then he pulled me on to his lap and kissed me on the lips, his tongue seeking out his own essence, his hands roaming over my skin.

  He yawned after our kiss, looking sleepier by the second. I sat in his lap for a minute or two, my arm around his shoulder, hugging him. Then I kissed him on the lips again and got up, collecting my dress and Dana’s clothes from the floor.
/>   “Good night, Daddy,” I said.

  “‘night, Annie,” he replied. “I’ll get you up early tomorrow, okay?”

  “Okay, Daddy.” I blew him a kiss and left him in his office, as he took another sip from the bottle.

  Dana was sound asleep, so I undressed as quietly as I could and went into the bathroom, wrapped in a plush towel. I remembered that I needed to moisturize my skin, which felt dry and scratchy from being in water all day, three showers, a bath with Mia, the pool, the hot tub. There was a bottle of Jergen’s in the medicine cabinet, and I started with my arms, rubbing the soothing lotion into my skin. I could hear David, still awake, still playing guitar. I knocked on the door that led to his room from the bathroom. David was sitting on his bed, the guitar in his lap, a book of sheet music open next to him.

  “Hey,” he said. “How’d it go tonight?”

  “It was fun,” I said. “Could you do me a big favor, Davy?”

  “Sure, anything.”

  “Could you rub this into my skin?” I said, handing him the bottle of lotion.

  “I’d love to,” he said, putting the guitar aside. I dropped my towel and laid down on his bed, on my back. David knelt next to me, squeezing moisturizer into his palm and rubbing his hands together. “Like this?” he asked, starting at my shoulders, gently working the lotion into my dry skin.

  “Perfect,” I said. “That really feels nice.”

  David massaged my shoulders and arms, and then he squirted more lotion on his hand and gently rubbed it into my breasts, leaning down to kiss my nipples, making them stand at attention. I closed my eyes and savored the feeling of his hands on me, his fingers sculpting the curves and hollows of my body. He began to massage my belly, my hips, working down my thighs and calves, rubbing my feet, even my toes.

  “Roll over,” he said. “Let me do your back.” I turned over and heard David squeeze the bottle of lotion. It made a flatulent sound, and we both laughed at that. He pulled my hair away from my neck and began to massage my shoulders.

  “You have such wonderful hands,” I said. “Strong and gentle at the same time.”

  “Thanks,” David replied, working the lotion into the concave dips between my shoulder blades. “If you move in with us I’d do this every night for you.”

  “It’s a deal,” I murmured, feeling wonderfully relaxed as he rubbed my back. I heard another fart-like squirt of lotion and David began to knead my cheeks, giving me a tender kiss right on my tail bone. He stopped for a second and I heard the sound of clothes rustling, the vrrrrp of a zipper. I turned my head and saw him getting undressed, his lovely cock stirring between his legs.

  “I don’t want to get this stuff on my jeans,” he said, pouring more lotion on his palm and massaging the backs of my thighs.

  “Yeah, right,” I laughed. He worked his way down my legs, all the way to my ankles, and then I felt him straddle me, his hard penis nestled in my crack, his hands working up again, kneading the knots from my back and shoulders.

  “How was that?” David asked.

  “Heavenly,” I replied. He stretched out over my back and kissed me on the neck, nibbling my earlobe, kissing my cheek.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  “I love you, too,” I said. “Put some lotion in my bottom, Davy.” He lifted himself off of my back and I heard another squirt from the bottle, feeling his slick fingers probing my crack, lubricating my nether hole. I didn’t have to tell him to be gentle this time; he knew exactly what to do, slipping one finger and then two inside me, moistening my tight hole, opening me, stretching me. I heard the sound of more lotion being applied, this time to his penis, that telltale slapping sound as he stroked himself. And then he was on top of me again, pressing the tip of his cock to my bottom, slowly pushing inside me. There was no resistance, no pain. All that coke and alcohol had deadened my senses, and his wonderful massage had left me in a state of complete relaxation. His slick shaft slowly slipped inside me, and he stretched out on my back again, kissing my cheek as he filled my bottom.

  David reached for my hands, slipping his fingers between mine as he began to thrust, slowly pulling back and pushing forward, his sweet prick sliding in and out of my ass. I brought his hands down to my breasts, and he held on to them as he pumped my bottom, rubbing my nipples between his fingers. Reaching down under my belly, I slipped my hand between my legs, toying with my cleft, teasing my button from its hiding place. I was numb, though, from all the sex, from the drugs and booze, and I knew it would take ages to come, if at all. I slipped a fingertip between my lips, feeling the remnants of Steve’s cream that oozed from my passage.

  “I love you, Annie,” David whispered in my ear. “I love you, I love you, I love you...” His words had a galvanic effect on me, and I felt some sensation returning, a tingling between my legs. I scooped some of Steve’s semen from my slit and used it as a lubricant, rubbing it over my clit, frigging myself quickly as I pushed my ass back against David’s hips.

  “Davy...my baby...my beautiful boy...”

  “Annie...”

  “Davy...”

  I felt my passion begin to rise, a tension in my belly that smoldered like an ember, a wave of heat that spread through my whole body. I rubbed myself furiously, trying to fan the flames, to spontaneously combust beneath David’s beautiful boycock, to find my release. It arrived sooner than I thought, and I began to shudder beneath him, squeezing his shaft with my bottom, the tension in my body erupting in an explosion of pleasure. I could feel his cock begin to throb inside me, the muscular ridge along the underside of his smooth shaft pulsing like a heartbeat. He caught his breath, a sharp inhalation that whistled past his lips and then he began to come inside me, filling my bottom with the heat of his emission, his warm seed flowing from the tip of his stem. His thrusts began to slow and stop, and he kissed me on the lips, gently nibbling them with his own.

  “Stay in me,” I whispered, bearing down on his rigid shaft, clamping my thighs together to trap him inside me. We rolled over on our sides, and somehow he didn’t slip out of my bottom. As he caressed my belly and kissed my neck, I felt my exhaustion catch up with me, and I drifted off to sleep, still connected to my beautiful stepbrother.

  * * *

  Chapter Nine - Desert Rose

  It was rare for me to recall my dreams after smoking pot the night before, but this one I did remember, vividly. Maybe it was the cocaine, maybe it was everything that had happened that day.

  I was with Krystle, and we were in a big, brightly lit room, like a gymnasium, a high ceiling above us, dozens of bright lights beaming down on us. I was lying on top of her, face up, and she had her hands on my breasts, her thighs between mine, holding me open the way she’d done during that afternoon tryst with my father, at the model home at Corazon. She was inside me, too, in my bottom, and it felt hard, like a strap-on, except I could feel her throbbing with every beat of her heart.

  And then my field of vision expanded, the way it sometimes does when you’re just waking up, just becoming aware of the world beyond your soft pillow and warm blankets. I could see the rest of the room, clear plastic sheets covering the whole floor, all the way to the white- painted cinder block walls.

  We were surrounded by men, naked men, strange men, faces I’d never seen before, at least a hundred of them. Krystle released one of my breasts and reached down between my legs, spreading my lips, rolling my clit between her fingers, exposing me to all of these men. As if on cue, they began to urinate, aiming their steaming streams of piss at my slit, wetting me, making me moan and writhe on top of Krystle’s soft breasts. When one man was done, another would take his place, and the urine began to pool around us, collecting in the folds of the plastic tarpaulins.

  Then the piss became a thick white fluid, more like heavy cream than semen, great streams of liquid that clung to our skin, covering us. Krystle kept manipulating my button with her fingers, and I felt ashamed, that I didn’t want these strange men to see me in the throes of an o
rgasm, but I couldn’t help myself. She cooed in my ear, telling me to let myself go, and I did, feeling a tremendous climax take hold of my senses. The white fluid began to rise, a flood of milky liquid that rose past the men’s ankles, and I began to worry that we might drown.

  * * *

  I woke up, looking around for the men, feeling my skin, wondering why I wasn’t wet. David had slipped out of me, and was laying on his back. Quietly, I climbed out of his bed and picked up my towel from the floor, wrapping it around me. I grabbed the bottle of moisturizer from the bedside table and walked into the bathroom.

  Dry skin or no dry skin, I needed another shower. However, I didn’t want to wake up David and Dana, so I wet a washcloth under the sink and cleaned between my legs, washing away the residue of the night before. Then I spread more lotion to my arms and legs; my skin had soaked up David’s loving application like a dry sponge. Afterwards, I tiptoed into Dana’s room and slowly laid down on the cot, trying not to make a sound. Soon I was asleep again, lulled by Dana’s slow breathing.

  My father woke me with a kiss, kneeling next to the cot, his eyes bloodshot, a grayish pallor to his skin.

  “Wake up, sweetheart,” he whispered. “We’re already running behind.”

  “Okay, Daddy,” I said, sitting up on the cot. I’d gone to sleep naked, and as the sheets fell from my breasts he smiled.

  “I brought you a pair of hiking boots,” he said. “They’re Mia’s, she’s hardly worn them. Let me know if they fit.”

  “Thanks,” I said. He gave me a kiss on the forehead and left.

  “Where are you going, Annie?” Dana sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes.

  “We’re going camping, Daddy and me,” I said.

  “Can I come, too?”

  “Sorry, sweetie,” I said, sitting on the edge of her bed and hugging her. “It’s just me and Daddy this time. Besides, you’ve got school today.”

  “How long are you going to be gone?” she asked.

  “Just overnight,” I said. “We’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “Okay,” she said, disappointed. “I’ll miss you.”