Articulate_Perv
Virgin
- Joined
- Oct 24, 2009
- Posts
- 1
Hello all:
I started working on this story, tentatively titled 'The Last Summer,' a few days ago; it has been built up in a very erratic, non-linear fashion, and I'm feeling as if I've got blinders on with regards to its cohesiveness. Please give it a read and let me know what you think; this is the first time I've posted any of my story fragments on Lit, most tend to die on the vine.
Thanks!
It was the summer before she and her brother would leave for college, and it was being consumed with preparations. They both had stacks of books to read for classes that hadn’t yet begun, boxes of supplies for dorm rooms they hadn’t yet seen, and from both their parents, a steady stream of advice for situations they hadn’t yet encountered. The house, always a victim of her father’s perpetual home improvement schemes, was even more cluttered, now that the bulk of her and her brother’s possessions had been boxed and stacked wherever there was spare room.
She woke to the murmurs of voices heard through walls, her brother, her mother, down the hall. Half-awake, she rolled out of bed, giving a tug on the ribbed cut-off t-shirt she slept in, not bothering to find pants, rubbing her eyes and pulling her panties from her crack as she opened her bedroom door and noticed the faint sliver of light coming through the cracked door of her brother’s room.
Navigating through waist-high stacks of boxes, she got to his door, and peered inside.
Her brother, facing away from her, his shorts around his ankles, head tilted back; her mother, on her knees in front of him, her nightgown open, a long, glistening thread of saliva running down her chest, her hands on his hips, fingertips resting on his smooth pale buttocks, her face hidden in his lap. She could see her mother’s head bobbing rhythmically, accompanied by loud slurps, gasps from her brother, and then she caught a brief glimpse of her mother’s face, eyes looking upwards, lips drawn tightly around her brother’s engorged penis.
She watched them, transfixed, as her mother’s tempo increased, as her brother’s hips began to thrust ever so slightly in time with her mother movements, the noises growing louder, until her brother clamped a hand over his mouth, stifling a loud groan. His cheeks clenched up, and her mother’s index finger snaked up between them, into him, as she bore down on his shaft, gulping loudly, furiously, then, coughing briefly, thick, milky fluid dribbling from her mouth, down her chin onto her chest. She took him back into her mouth, held him in her lips, as he convulsed, repeatedly, until finally, he withdrew from her mouth with a wet pop, shuddering.
Her mother smiled at him, slyly, almost, using a fingertip to scoop the excess seed off her chest and slip it into her mouth; her brother just stood there for a moment, his breathing slowing down gradually.
“See, wasn’t that nice?”
“Y-yes,” he replied, between breaths, “Amazing.”
“And now,” she said, rising and letting her gown slip off her shoulders, “it’s time for you to learn how to return the favor.”
She sat on the edge of the bed, her curvy figure cast in high relief by the dim light of her brother’s bedside lamp, spreading her legs, as her brother knelt down tentatively between them. He drew closer, and her mother took his head in one hand, guiding him in, until his face was buried in her crotch, and she released a long exhale, moaning quietly, stroking his hair. She could see goose-bumps materialize on her mother’s skin, see her nipples darken and swell as her brother’s tongue noisily pleasured her.
“Good boy,” she said breathily, “Move your tongue higher, honey . . . “
Slowly, she forced herself to move backwards, away from the door and re-trace her steps to her own room; she shut the door, stumbling through the dark until she found her bed, and sat down.
“Enjoy the show?” someone asked.
“Fuck!” she gasped, levitating several feet into the air, suddenly noticing the silhouette at her desk; she flipped on her lamp and saw her father, in an undershirt and pajama pants, sitting there, a slight grin on his face. “Dad, you scared the crap of out . . . do you know what they’re doing??”
He nodded. “You’re probably a bit confused.”
“A bit?? What the hell is going on?”
“Your mother’s just showing your brother how to be good in bed, that’s all.” He paused, giving the statement time to sink in. “You’re both leaving in the fall, and neither of you has ever had a serious boyfriend or girlfriend. Your mother and I thought it would be good for you two to know what to do before you were expected to do it; we wanted you two to have a safe place to learn.”
She leaned back on her bed, thinking. “Is that why you’re here, Dad?”
He didn’t answer, which was answer enough.
I started working on this story, tentatively titled 'The Last Summer,' a few days ago; it has been built up in a very erratic, non-linear fashion, and I'm feeling as if I've got blinders on with regards to its cohesiveness. Please give it a read and let me know what you think; this is the first time I've posted any of my story fragments on Lit, most tend to die on the vine.
Thanks!
It was the summer before she and her brother would leave for college, and it was being consumed with preparations. They both had stacks of books to read for classes that hadn’t yet begun, boxes of supplies for dorm rooms they hadn’t yet seen, and from both their parents, a steady stream of advice for situations they hadn’t yet encountered. The house, always a victim of her father’s perpetual home improvement schemes, was even more cluttered, now that the bulk of her and her brother’s possessions had been boxed and stacked wherever there was spare room.
She woke to the murmurs of voices heard through walls, her brother, her mother, down the hall. Half-awake, she rolled out of bed, giving a tug on the ribbed cut-off t-shirt she slept in, not bothering to find pants, rubbing her eyes and pulling her panties from her crack as she opened her bedroom door and noticed the faint sliver of light coming through the cracked door of her brother’s room.
Navigating through waist-high stacks of boxes, she got to his door, and peered inside.
Her brother, facing away from her, his shorts around his ankles, head tilted back; her mother, on her knees in front of him, her nightgown open, a long, glistening thread of saliva running down her chest, her hands on his hips, fingertips resting on his smooth pale buttocks, her face hidden in his lap. She could see her mother’s head bobbing rhythmically, accompanied by loud slurps, gasps from her brother, and then she caught a brief glimpse of her mother’s face, eyes looking upwards, lips drawn tightly around her brother’s engorged penis.
She watched them, transfixed, as her mother’s tempo increased, as her brother’s hips began to thrust ever so slightly in time with her mother movements, the noises growing louder, until her brother clamped a hand over his mouth, stifling a loud groan. His cheeks clenched up, and her mother’s index finger snaked up between them, into him, as she bore down on his shaft, gulping loudly, furiously, then, coughing briefly, thick, milky fluid dribbling from her mouth, down her chin onto her chest. She took him back into her mouth, held him in her lips, as he convulsed, repeatedly, until finally, he withdrew from her mouth with a wet pop, shuddering.
Her mother smiled at him, slyly, almost, using a fingertip to scoop the excess seed off her chest and slip it into her mouth; her brother just stood there for a moment, his breathing slowing down gradually.
“See, wasn’t that nice?”
“Y-yes,” he replied, between breaths, “Amazing.”
“And now,” she said, rising and letting her gown slip off her shoulders, “it’s time for you to learn how to return the favor.”
She sat on the edge of the bed, her curvy figure cast in high relief by the dim light of her brother’s bedside lamp, spreading her legs, as her brother knelt down tentatively between them. He drew closer, and her mother took his head in one hand, guiding him in, until his face was buried in her crotch, and she released a long exhale, moaning quietly, stroking his hair. She could see goose-bumps materialize on her mother’s skin, see her nipples darken and swell as her brother’s tongue noisily pleasured her.
“Good boy,” she said breathily, “Move your tongue higher, honey . . . “
Slowly, she forced herself to move backwards, away from the door and re-trace her steps to her own room; she shut the door, stumbling through the dark until she found her bed, and sat down.
“Enjoy the show?” someone asked.
“Fuck!” she gasped, levitating several feet into the air, suddenly noticing the silhouette at her desk; she flipped on her lamp and saw her father, in an undershirt and pajama pants, sitting there, a slight grin on his face. “Dad, you scared the crap of out . . . do you know what they’re doing??”
He nodded. “You’re probably a bit confused.”
“A bit?? What the hell is going on?”
“Your mother’s just showing your brother how to be good in bed, that’s all.” He paused, giving the statement time to sink in. “You’re both leaving in the fall, and neither of you has ever had a serious boyfriend or girlfriend. Your mother and I thought it would be good for you two to know what to do before you were expected to do it; we wanted you two to have a safe place to learn.”
She leaned back on her bed, thinking. “Is that why you’re here, Dad?”
He didn’t answer, which was answer enough.
