Secret in a Suitcase: His Forbidden Desire

by JJ Simone

  Secret in a Suitcase: His Forbidden Desire

  By JJ Simone

  Published by JJ Simone

  Copyright 2013 JJ Simone

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  When I heard the honk from Dad's car, I was still swimming laps. Was it 4:30 already? Time flies during summer break! I jumped out of the pool and threw a white t-shirt over my still-wet bikini. I had spent all afternoon swimming with friends, talking about how excited we were to start college in a week. Excited to live on our own, to go to parties and meet boys.

  “Guess who dropped by for a surprise visit?” Dad asked as I climbed into the passenger seat.

  I wrinkled my nose, trying to think who could possibly have come to visit. One of my various aunts and uncles? Grandparents? Old friends? Huh. I couldn't even guess. Unless – but it couldn't be, I hadn't seen him in years …

  “I don't know,” I said.

  “Brock from next door!” Dad replied happily. “He wanted to see you off to college! Isn't that nice?”

  “Brock!! Brock is in town?!” I practically screamed.

  I was so excited! Brock was my next door neighbor that I grew up with. He was four years older than me, so I always kinda tagged along for whatever trouble he was getting into. But I always felt safe with Brock around, and he never let anyone make fun of me. Even when it wasn't “cool” to have a younger friend – let alone a girl – he still treated me with respect. And my parents loved Brock, too – his first job was as an apprentice in my Dad's woodworking shop! His home life was kinda crazy, so he was always over at our house. My parents really fell in love with Brock.

  But then Brock went to college four years ago. And since he went to school on the other side of the country, I hardly ever saw him. Between his schoolwork, job, and his band always being on tour, he only got to visit once before … and even then, it was his freshman year. After that, his parents divorced and moved away, and I didn't think I'd ever see him again.

  I couldn't wait. I was excited just to actually see him in person. It felt weird to not have Brock around the last four years – it felt like I grew up into a woman without him even around to see me. I wondered if he'd even like to be around me, or if it'd be weird now?

  Dad pulled up into the driveway, and I sprinted out of the car and barged through the front door. There was Brock, on the living room couch. Wow, I hadn't seen him in so long! He looked like a man now. I ran up to him and gave him a huge hug.

  “Jules! I missed you,” he said.

  “Aw, Brock!” I squeezed him tight, pressing my face against his big, manly chest. His smell filled my nostrils, triggering a flash of memories of running around, playing outdoors with my best friend.

  “Jules,” he said, “you're soaked!” Brock pulled back with a funny expression and tried to brush the water off of his clothes. Poor guy! I hadn't even bothered to towel off, and now he was all wet. He stared me over, probably studying how different I looked.

  Mom looked at me with eyebrows raised. “Did you even bother to towel yourself off, Julie?” she asked. “Brock doesn't need to see that. Go upstairs and change!” she commanded.

  I laughed and giddily ran upstairs. After a quick shower, I threw on a cute little romper and ran back downstairs to be with Brock and our parents. We talked for hours until it was late, when Brock mentioned that he was going out to see his friend's band play. He went into his room to change.

  After a while, Brock still hadn't come out of the guest room, so I went to find him. I opened his door without knocking, which must have frightened him – he was writing in a small black book, and he scrambled to shut it and then sat on top of it.

  “Whatcha writin', Brockie?” I asked, and playfully sat next to him.

  “Nothing, just my journal. Stay out of it, okay? It's private.”

  “Aw, you keep a diary!” I teased.

  “Oh, shutup, willya?” He started to tickle me and I screamed, fighting back. I hate being tickled, always have!

  “Leave me alone!” I yelled and ran for the door. At the doorway, I turned and posed, dramatically draping myself across the door frame, like I've seen sexy actresses do in old movies.

  “... Have fun tonight!” I said, trying to sound over-the-top sexy, all the while trying not to laugh.

  ***

  After Brock left, I watched TV with Mom and Dad until they finally went to bed. Once I was sure they were sleeping, I snuck into the guest room, determined to find his little black journal and see what exactly he was so worried about me finding out.

  I looked around his room and quickly spotted the only place he could've hid the journal – in his suitcase.

  I unzipped his suitcase and started removing stacks of his neatly-folded clothes. His smell seemed to emanate from his clothes, so distinct and fresh and strong. I don't know why it was so comforting to me, I'd never experienced anything like this before!

  I took out another stack and – aha! – found his little black journal stashed below. I quickly flipped through and was amazed by how much Brock had written. Four years' worth of Brock's life, all of his college exploits, in this little book! I opened to a random page, his sophomore year, and started to read.

  Played a show at Sins Bar last night. Pretty good crowd, they were dancing & moshing & clearly having a good time. Everyone got pretty drunk. Afterwards, met this girl Anna and her friend Inez. Took them backstage for some drinks. They got good and drunk and asked me if I wanted to see them make out. I said sure, what the hell. Didn't take long before they were sitting in my lap and --

  I started to feel mad for some reason, so I stopped reading there. Is this why Brock played in a band? So drunken floozies could throw themselves at him? I thought I knew him better than that. C'mon Brock!

  … But curiosity killed the cat, you know? I flipped to another page.

  . . . so I broke up with Jessica today. Accidentally called her “Julie” while we were fucking, and she picked a huge fight over it. I told her, 'hey, Jessica, Julie, they're both J-names, you're both important women in my life, mistakes happen.' She wouldn't drop it, though. Said that she thinks I have some kind of weird attachment to my neighbor based on a bunch of psychological crap she tried to use on me. Of course I'm attached to her – she was the best friend I had growing up. I love her. Get over it.

  I was so shocked! I couldn't believe that I had basically broken him and his girlfriend up and I never even knew about it – or her, for that matter. I have to admit, even though I didn't know her, some part of me felt satisfied to know that he'd called out my name. Maybe you just weren't good enough for him, Jessica. I started to read more about their breakup:

  . . . After arguing for a few hours, I decided to pack up my things and told her we shouldn't see each other anymore. She said fine, and started throwing everything of mine into a box. Shit I didn't even want, like my old toothbrush, and random knick-knacks … like, OK, whatever. I'll take everything I've ever touched, I guess.

  Then she took out my Clone-A-Cock dildo and threw it in the box, too. What the hell am I supposed to do with that thing? It was her idea to do that. She'd said, “you have such a pretty cock – it'd make such a nice dildo. I want to have it forever.” So she went and ordered a Clone-A-Cock kit off the internet and pretty soon I've got my dick in a silicone mold. I even remember asking h
er, “what if we break up?” and she said, “I'd still keep it.”

  Well, apparently not. Now I've got this perfect replica dildo of my own cock. The hell am I supposed to do with that?

  I bit my lower lip. Brock would definitely die if he knew I was reading this! This was so naughty! I couldn't believe he made a replica of his own penis! I wanted to see what it looked like – was it big or small? It had to be big, right? Otherwise his girlfriend wouldn't have wanted him to make a mold of it, I'm pretty sure. Yup, definitely big, had to be big.

  I decided I should stop snooping, since it isn't right. But I had to read his latest journal entry, the one he didn't want me to see, right? I flipped to the back and began to read:

  . . . So I'm back home for a couple weeks. Not much around the house has changed. Not much except Julie. I mean, I've seen pictures, and I knew she had grown up to be a pretty girl, but I had no idea that she was a beautiful, sexy woman now. She's exquisite. She came into the house wearing a wet t-shirt and bikini … I thought I might drool. She has this juicy ass and these legs that go on forever. She has an amazing, cut little stomach, and these perfect, perky tits that just seem to bounce with every step ... God, I bet she drove the guys fucking crazy at her school! I wouldn't have left her alone, anyway.

  So yeah, I think my neighbor is a babe. There you go, that one is for you, Jessica. Maybe she was right with all that Freud psychology-bullcrap after all. So what?

  I closed his journal, my mouth frozen in an “O” shape. My best friend, Brock, said that about me? I couldn't believe it!

  I stuffed his journal back into his suitcase and almost ran out of his room … until my curiosity got the best of me, again. I knew I owed myself at least one quick peek. I turned around and slowly walked back to his suitcase and reached my hand in, past all the clothes, and felt around the bottom of his suitcase.

  It felt like something popped into my hand. I gripped my hand around it and pulled it out, and came face-to-face with Brock's penis. I mean, a replica of his penis.

  I held it up. It was a beautiful penis. I understood why Jessica had wanted a model of it. This was the closest I'd been to a real penis before – I'd never even used a normal dildo. But I'd seen plenty of porn, enough to know that Brock had a huge cock.

  Even better than the size was how perfectly it was shaped. The shaft was nice and thick, and a network of big veins covered its length. I pressed my finger against one of the veins and imagined how it might feel when there was blood pulsing through it, getting him hard as a rock.

  The head of his cock had such a pretty shape, it practically made my mouth water. It was like a big cock-lollipop. I don't know if that sounds ridiculous, but it's true! I could imagine, if I was one of his girlfriends, how I'd lick all around his tip until he couldn't take it anymore and was begging me to suck him off. It's not my fault Brock has such a pretty cock …

  I didn't even realize how horny I was getting while studying his dildo. My other hand had slipped under my panties, and my finger softly circled my opening, smearing my pussy juice all around. I brought my finger up to my mouth and tongued it clean, tasting myself – and suddenly, YIKES! I realized that I was fingering myself in the guest bedroom!

  I threw his cock back into his suitcase and ran to my bedroom, a much safer place for me to get myself off. I got in bed and started playing with myself – I played with my tits, but my nipples just wouldn't get hard. I tried rubbing my clit, but I barely felt anything. Sometimes, when I'm really horny, I'll stick the handle of my hairbrush in my cunt and pretend I'm getting fucked … but even that didn't work. I just couldn't seem to focus! All I could think about was Brock's big, beautiful cock.

  I snuck back to his room, tip-toeing the whole way. I grabbed his dildo and went back to my room, quietly closed the door, and jumped in bed.

  I held Brock's manhood right in front of my face and started jerking it, like he was really there. It seemed to stare right back at me. Wow, it was almost intimidating! I wondered if it could even fit in my mouth?

  I brought it closer to my lips and kept jerking it. Mmm, I thought, it must be nice to have a big, warm cock like this in your mouth. I gently kissed the very tip. Then I kissed the sides.

  My pussy started to ache for my touch. I put my free hand down there and started rubbing my lips. Oh, they were so silky smooth!

  I dragged my tongue up and down the shaft of the dildo. I licked the head of it, just like I would the real thing, until I could practically hear Brock begging me to suck on it. I cupped the bottom of his shaft with my tongue and took it into my mouth. I could only fit about half of his cock in my mouth, that's it!

  I rubbed my pussy furiously as I could feel myself getting close to orgasm. I plunged his cock deeper into my throat, trying to fit the whole thing – and almost did! As I started to cum, I stuck my finger into my entrance, and moaned … loudly. Oops, don't want to wake Mom and Dad! My finger was covered with my own juices, and there was a huge wet spot underneath me. I came so much! I stuck my finger in my mouth and sucked all my juices off of it. I tasted so sweet and yummy …

  I looked at Brock's big, slobbery horse-cock dildo, and wondered what it might feel like … inside me. I lowered it to my crotch and pulled my panties to the side. My loins felt hungry to get something down there to play with, to get something inside of me. I put the head against my pussy lips and rubbed it up and down, feeling my soft petals open wide, ready to take him in. My sex felt so warm and tingly, I simply had to put this cock inside of me. I positioned his head right at my opening and started to gently work its way past my entrance, when –

  “That looks familiar,” Brock said from the corner of my bedroom, startling the hell out of me!

  “BROCK!” I yelled and jumped up, scrambling to cover myself with the bed sheets. “How long have you been there?!”

  “Long enough,” he said.

  I was simply mortified. Here was my best friend,my old neighbor and playmate, standing there in the dark, watching me suck on a replica of his cock, while I diddled myself in my panties? I wanted to die!

  “I'm sorry!” I said, “I didn't mean to, I mean, I wanted to see what you were writing, and –”

  “Shh,” he hushed. He came over to the bed and sat down next to me. “Relax.”

  I whimpered, suddenly feeling very self-conscious and exposed as I lay in my soaked panties, holding a model of Brock's penis right by my pussy. He put his hand on my cheek and softly petted it.

  “I don't mind,” he said. “I mean, it's just a dildo. It's not like it's the real thing,” he sounded almost disappointed. “This whole thing is crazy, you know?”

  I looked him in the eyes. “Really? You're not mad? Not even about me snooping?”

  “Nope. Hell,” he said with a gleam in his eye, “might even be a bit flattered.”

  A smile spread across my face, I was so relieved!

  “I … I guess I just couldn't help myself. God, I'm embarrassed! I just got so horny looking at it, and one thing led to another ...” I said.

  “It's okay,” he said, and pulled my face closer to his.

  “Um, Brock?” I asked. But he didn't answer. He just moved in and kissed my bottom lip, then quickly pulled away. I couldn't believe it. We sat there staring at each other, both of us looking surprised.

  “I'm sorry, I –” he tried to apologize, but I put my hand on his neck and pulled him in and kissed him back. I couldn't believe this was actually happening! I had so many feelings, so many emotions for Brock, and they were all raging and storming all around me. The only thing that made sense, was that having him near felt so incredibly good, so right. I wanted his smell, his taste, his perfect smile, him, every thing about him, inside me.

  I melted in his arms as we kissed. He slipped his tongue into my mouth, and I gently pushed back with my tongue. Soon we were passionately tongue-wrestling, and he unhooked my bra. I let it fall and sweetly swayed my breasts back and forth for him.

  Brock still seemed slightly he
sitant. Maybe he was worried about my Dad finding out, or not being sure I wanted this, after all. But I knew I did. I grabbed his hand and placed it on my breast. His hand seemed unsure at first, but I squeezed it, encouraging him to play with me. He pinched my nipples, which made them hard right away, and he gave a strong little tug. He pulled my nipples up, and down, all around – I'd never played with them like that! It felt so good they tingled, and made my stomach ache with a pleasant fire.

  “Oh God, Brock,” I said. “That feels so good.”

  He smiled at me, his eyes gleaming. I tore his shirt off and ran my fingers over his manly, hairy chest. He explored every crevice of my abdomen with his fingers. I could tell he was admiring my – what did he call it? – 'cut little stomach'?

  Brock threw me on my back, and with a single hand, he held my wrists together and pinned my arms above my head. My breasts jutted out in this position, and he hovered over my bosom, looking crazy and wild! I could tell he was savoring the way my tits looked. I squirmed helplessly, but he kept me pinned down.

  “I love the way your tits bounce when you squirm like that,” he said.

  I squirmed harder for him, my breasts bouncing voluptuously. I loved the way his face filled with lust for my tits.

  “Suck on my titties already,” I commanded.

  He smiled, bowed his head, and put his mouth on my hard little buds and sucked. My tits were already so big and sensitive from all this attention, but now I could feel them growing in his mouth! I fought against his hold, with my arms pinned above my head. He kept me pinned easily, and the harder I fought, the harder he sucked on my nipples. Ugh, god, it felt so good, it almost hurt!

  Brock sat up, but wouldn't let go of my wrists. He had an ornery smile, and I knew he was up to something. He grabbed his dildo and brought it up to my face.