by A. A. Davies
It feels like such a long time ago that we stood in the rain to bury my mother. Rain has a way of unearthing what lies beneath the surface, and I guess it’s fitting that my mother’s stormy burial did the same for us. The truth of the past shapes our future. A future that I fully believe Ophelia Josephine Merrick-Cartwright would approve of.
As a gentle breeze moves over my skin it reminds me of my mother’s comforting caress. She’s giving us her blessing to live and love for as long as we have, in whatever way we choose. I relax into Daddy and Lando, then close my eyes to feel the sun’s warmth against my face and enjoy my family. Sex can wait, but not too long, I hope.
The End
About Faith Ryan
Faith Ryan is wife to a handsome bearded man and mother to three, yes three, teenage girls. She lives in a small town in Ohio and is a weirdo to the max. She is in love with love of all kinds, especially the dark, dirty, and forbidden. She enjoys torturing her characters, sometimes figuratively and other times literally. Faith's writing leans to the weird, dark, and unconventional. If you like your stories with a bit of blood and taboo, you're looking in the right place. But don't worry, Faith also has a sweet side she lets out on occasion.
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Deciet
Charity. B
Blurb
Adam
The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt her.
I’ve always done what I thought was best for her.
But this could destroy us, and that terrifies me.
I love her more than anything, but that love has become muddled with things I shouldn’t feel.
Isobela
I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to see him the way I used to.
I feel like I’m losing my mind.
Everything is different now, yet my feelings haven’t faded.
It was a mistake that neither of us expected.
There has to be way to undo this and get back to how things used to be.
I: Black Sheep
Isabela
I had to have those last few shots of tequila, didn’t I? Maybe if I would’ve stopped when my vision began to blur, I wouldn’t be stumbling up my driveway missing a flip-flop.
Billy Brewster revs the engine of his stupid Mustang, swerving down my street without kissing me goodbye. I don’t really care, but I did suck his unimpressive dick tonight, so it would have been a nice gesture.
At least he drove me home. Even if it was dangerous, seeing as he’s even more wasted than I am. Although not quite as dangerous as getting a DUI and my parents finding out I was partying all night.
My parents, Carol and Jack Hinkley, are your run of the mill, conservative, God-fearing Americans. Getting drunk, high, and blowing dudes doesn’t exactly fit into their idea of who they think I should be. I don’t feel like I’m doing anything out of the ordinary for being nineteen. Besides, I already chose marketing and communications over fine arts to appease them.
“Doodling isn’t a career, Isabela. Stop dreaming and grow up. Either declare a real major or find your own way to pay for college.”
This from the man who’s pounded student loan debt horror stories into my head for years.
I was doomed to disappoint them from the beginning. They already had their cliché golden boy, and I was far from planned. Nevertheless, having an abortion is a no-no to my parents, so here I am: The official black sheep of the Hinkley family.
My purse refuses to stay on my shoulder. Slipping from my grip, it falls to the concrete, spilling its contents across the front porch.
“Shit!”
Oops, that was loud. I cover my mouth as if it will quiet the noise I’ve already made. It takes longer than it should to shove everything back into my bag, though, in my defense, I’m seeing two of everything.
The yellow glare of the porch light being turned on signals how screwed I am. I mumble under my breath, attempting to stand up straight without swaying.
Think sober. Think sober.
My dad opens the door, glaring at me. “Are you aware of what time it is?”
“I know ith’s late—” Crap. I hang my head and sigh because there’s no way I’m getting out of this.
“What’s going on, Jack?” My mother rushes behind him, tying her blue bathrobe closed.
“Our daughter just came home. Drunk. Again.”
“I only cad a houple.”
Shut up, Isabela. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.
“Get in the house. Now.”
My dad grips my arm, yanking me inside, only to have me trip over myself and fall on my face in the entryway. Imagining how ridiculous I surely look has me laughing uncontrollably. Every time I try to stop, I only laugh harder. Why is this so damn funny?
A scoff accompanied by a disgraced shake of the head is Dad’s only response while Mom covers her mouth, holding back her sobs.
Guilt is the cure for my fit of hilarity. I don’t want to hurt them. Their reaction just seems dramatic to me. I’m in college, for God’s sake. It’s absurd to expect me not to party.
Dad sneers in disgust. “You never fail to disappoint me. If you can manage to pull yourself together enough to get to your room, I suggest you do it. Or sleep on the floor. I don’t care either way.”
He takes my mom’s hand, leading her down the hall before slamming their bedroom door. I sigh, dropping my head on the tile when Bucky, our giant mastiff puppy, barrels out of the kitchen to meet me, slobbering kisses all over my face.
“At least you still love me.” I scratch his ears before attempting to stand. “Come on, goofball.”
Halfway down the stairs to my room, I miss a step and fall on my ass. Bucky barks when I scoot myself the rest of the way. “Shhh. I’m fine, buddy.”
Flipping on my cloud shaped string lights illuminates the space enough to see as I pull my striped narwhal tee over my head. My jean shorts, which my dad constantly bitches about being too short, are shimmied down my legs, leaving me in my skull bra and panty set. Bucky jumps on the bed as I fall backward onto my fluffy narwhal comforter.
Taking my phone out of my purse, I rest my head against Bucky. A blinking notification alerts me that I have a text from my big brother.
Adam: I’m coming over for dinner on Sunday. Will you be there?
He sent the message over four hours ago. Maybe he’s still up? Considering he’s the poster boy for the perfect child, he’s actually pretty chill. Having him here always makes being around my parents more bearable. Since he moved out when I was eight, I don’t have much memory of us living together, yet somehow, we’ve remained close. I text him more than I do my own best friend, Jessie.
Me: Don’t have a choice. You up?
Bucky, the big dork, snores in my ear, sprawling across my bed. I shift to the small amount of available space as my phone pings.
Adam: Yeah. Why are you? Don’t you have class in the morning?
Reversing the camera on my phone, I take a selfie.
Me: Not till 10:00. I got drunk at a party, but Mom and Dad caught me sneaking in, so they’re pissed.
Rolling off my bed, I grab the joint and lighter I stashed in my narwhal statue. I’ve had a thing for the sea creatures since I was a little kid, and anything described as a ‘Unicorn of Death’ is something I can get on board with.
Adam: Just tell me you were safe.
I grin. He’s always been overprotective, which I suppose is an unavoidable side effect of having a big brother.
Me: Are you asking me if I got laid?
I blow three hits out the window before he responds.
Adam: I don’t need to hear that shit. Nice bra btw. Does Dad know you have that?
My dad connects skulls with the devil, the occult, and generally all things evil. He would shit if he knew how much stuff I wore with them on it.
Me: I don’t generally make a habit of showing Dad my lingerie.
The smoke floats out my open window as he responds, clearly trying to end the conversation.
Adam: Good to know… Listen, I have company. Call me tomorrow if Mom and Dad don’t kill you first.
‘Company’ obviously means he has a date at his house. Irrational jealousy at him choosing to spend time with her rather than talk to me makes my veins itchy. I’ve always hated thinking about him with girls. Maybe I’m a little overprotective too.
Me: K. Love you.
He doesn’t respond until I’m back in bed next to Bucky.
Adam: Love you too, sis.
That’s the last thing I see before I close my eyes and let sleep overtake me.
II: Deviant
Adam
The ice clinks against my glass as I finish my drink. I don’t really know why I continue to use these sites. More often than not, the profile pictures are at least ten years old, and the accounts are mostly full of bullshit. I don’t understand the point in lying. It makes it harder on everyone. My profile is completely straight forward about looking for someone to fuck on a regular basis. I don’t even need to necessarily like them as long as they’re fun in bed.
I’m not interested in a relationship right now, but I also don’t want to keep hooking up with random people. It shouldn’t be so hard to find someone willing to sleep together recurrently without any other expectations.
The knock on my door has me blowing a large breath through my lips. It’s probably Moonshine, my date. Even though her name is painfully stupid, she claims to not be interested in anything more than a physical relationship.
It’s a pleasant surprise to open the door and find she’s actually much hotter in person. That literally never happens, so we’re off to a great start.
She bites her lip as her syrupy gaze assesses me. “Adam?”
I step aside to let her in. “Yes, Moonshine, is it?” I’m really hoping it turns out to be a nickname with a clever backstory.
“Yep.” She combs her fingers through her long, curly hair as she looks out my apartment window. “Wow. This view is gorgeous.”
Standing in front of her, I trail my finger down the pale skin of her arm. “It’s even better in the sunlight. The palm trees frame the ocean perfectly.” I’m much taller than she is, so I have to lean forward to reach beneath her fringed hippie dress and touch over her panties. “It’s like paradise.” Though her posture momentarily goes rigid, she knows what she’s here for. There’s no reason we shouldn’t just get to it.
“What do you do?” she asks, dropping her giant purse on the floor.
“I write and illustrate comic books. Have you ever heard of The Horrifying Tales of a Zombie Princess?”
Seeing the unamused quirk of her eyebrow, I’m guessing not. “I’m not really into comics.”
Removing my hand from inside her dress, I gesture for her to follow me with a nod of my head. “That’s fine. You don’t need to be to suck my cock.” The offended gape on her face makes me laugh, yet I apologize so I don’t ruin this before it gets started. “Sorry—bad joke.” After tonight, I’ll refuse to censor myself with her, however, I’d prefer this evening not be a complete waste of time.
She stays silent on the way to my room, and as soon as we’re inside, my lips are on her slender neck as my fingers find the waistband of her panties. Flattening my palm, I slide my hand beneath the fabric. Trimmed hairs brush against my fingers before the slickness between her thighs guides me inside.
My teeth nip at the shell of her pierced ear. “Get undressed.”
She immediately sheds her clothes, and I admire the perfect size of her tits. Gently holding her throat, I kiss her while guiding her to my bed.
Her chest heaves as she scoots back on the mattress, watching me kneel in front of her. Her pussy is bald aside from the short, brown patch of hair right at the top. I spread her legs apart to lick along her glimmering slit. Her toes dig into the comforter as she moans my name like she won’t remember it otherwise.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I groan. The last thing I want to do is check my texts while I have a mouthful of pussy, but it might be Isabela.
“Shit. Give me a second.”
Moonshine lifts her head to glare at me. “Are you fucking serious?”
All it takes is shoving three fingers into her hole to replace her bitching with gasping. My lungs expand when I swipe open my phone to see the message. I worry about my Bella Boop a lot more now that she’s in college. I’m constantly afraid that she’ll get hurt or into trouble.
The time on my phone reads two-fucking-thirty. I had no idea it was that late. It’s a school night, for Christ’s sake. Why isn’t she asleep? She’s going to be exhausted tomorrow. Texting her back with my left hand is tricky seeing as my right hand is knuckle deep in Moonshine.
Isabela’s response has me pounding my fingers harder when she confirms that my worries are valid. I know she’s not doing anything I didn’t do, it’s just different because… well, because it’s her.
Removing my fingers, I stand. “Come over here and get on your knees.”
“Are you gonna be on that thing all night?” Moonshine whines while lowering to the floor.
“It’s my goddamn sister. Now open your mouth.”
Her eyes narrow before she obeys. I unzip my heathered shorts, stroking myself a few times before tapping the tip of my cock against her tongue. Typing my response to Isabela, I thrust between Moonshine’s lips. While she may have an idiotic name, she gives great head.
Isabela’s response has me clenching my jaw for two reasons. The idea of any hormone-fueled douchebag touching her makes me sick. Even though I know she’s growing up and is bound to have these experiences, it doesn’t make me despise it any less. When her photo comes through, I grip Moonshine’s hair and shove down her throat so hard she tries to pull away.
The image is so jarring, I barely hear Moonshine gagging and choking as I force myself deeper. Seeing Isabela in only a bra has my cock twitching inside the girl’s throat. I’m disgusted with myself as I stare at the little skull broach between her adorable tits. Her strawberry hair lays in waves over her shoulders as her glossy teal eyes stare at me through the screen.
I answer with the most appropriate thing I can think of without taking my eyes off the image of her. Desperate to end this conversation, I send one last message before tossing the phone on the bed and pulling out of Moonshine’s mouth.
She gasps for breath, wheezing as drool drips down her chin. “What the fuck, Adam?”
Nodding toward the bed, I pull my shirt over my head and drop my shorts to the floor. “Get back on the bed.”
“You’re kind of a dick, aren’t ya?”
I grin on my way to get a condom. “It’ll be worth it. Face down, ass up.”
She rolls her eyes, but once again, does what I tell her. I’ve made my intentions clear, so if she gets her thong in a twist, it’s on her.
Kneeling on the bed behind her, I rub my sheathed erection against her entrance, pushing into her with as much force as I can.
“Fuck!” she yells over her shoulder.
I smack my palm against her ass cheek, leaving a red handprint when she pushes her hips back to meet me. Despite her previous attitude, her moans and the way she’s rocking her body against mine suggests she’s enjoying herself.
My phone blinks with a notification, making me inwardly cringe at how badly I want to see if Isabela sent me another photo.
I’m able to resist looking at my cell for an entire two minutes before I slide out of Moonshine, rolling her onto her back.
“Hold on, I’m going to blindfold you.”
Lifting her arms above her head, she grins. “Ooh, okay. That’s kinda kinky.”
If she only knew why I want to. I yank the case off a pillow, lowering it over her head and tightening it with a knot just above her nose.
I can’t believe I’m actually going to do this.
There’s no reasonable explanation
as to why that picture is affecting me so much. Sexually thinking about Isabela has not only never happened before, it’s also incredibly gross. Or at least, it should be. Regardless of every other thought screaming at me not to cross this line, I reach for the phone and lay it next to Moonshine’s arm. My finger swipes across the screen as I re-insert myself into her body, anticipation crawling up my spine.
I’m definitely going to despise myself for this later.
Isabela didn’t send another picture, only an ‘I Love You’ text. I quickly respond before clicking on her photo so it fills the screen. My eyes scan over her full lips, wondering who they were on tonight. As dirty and deviant as this is, my cock jumps at the vision, making me pivot faster, feeling too good in this moment to give a shit.
Sliding my fingers into Moonshine’s mouth, I assault her body while staring at Isabela’s face. I bite my lip to keep from saying her name.
Fantasizing that I’m inside of Isabela instead of Moonshine while her ocean eyes stare at me from my phone has me filling the condom. As soon as my balls are empty, self-disgust consumes me.
Did I really just do that?
III: Family Dinner
Isabela
“Shit, I gotta go. Adam’s coming over for dinner in thirty minutes.” I sniff my shirt as Jessie puts her hand on her chest with a swoony sigh. She’s had a crush on him for a while. It’s super fucking annoying. “Do I smell like weed to you?”