It had been a rotten day at school. The heat of the approaching summer didn't help my rotten disposition one little bit, either. Not only had my teachers been on my case for every little nit-picky thing that week, but my girlfriend was also being worse than her usual bitchy self. After almost two weeks of her current attitude, I was getting really tired of it. I wondered if Brianna had the faintest idea of how close we were to breaking up. For that matter, I wondered if she even cared.
Stepping through the front door, my ears were assailed by the sounds of screaming. It took me a second or two to identify the voice and its location. My sister, Linda, was upstairs with her boyfriend, Dwight Benson, and by the sounds of it, they were suffering through one hell of an orgasm. I knew they were in the middle of screwing each other blind, because those squeaky springs on her double bed were a really good hint. So were the moans, groans, and grunts as the two lovers took each other to whatever plateau of passion they sought.
This wasn't the first time I'd come home to the sounds of my sister and her boyfriend fucking. In fact, their alliance had been ongoing since the beginning of the year, just after Christmas break. At first, the thought of my sister having sex had gotten me turned on something fierce. I'd sneak upstairs into my room, close and lock the door, then strip all my clothes off and fantasize about it being me with Linda, instead of Dwight. For several weeks, it was their fucking that fuelled my over-active adolescent imagination. It made a great background to jack off to, as far as I was concerned. But after going through the same routine every day for months, the novelty wore off and got a little stale.
Dwight and Linda's fucking had another effect on me though. It made me feel a little bolder when it came to sexual intimacies between my own girlfriend, Brianna Hastings, and me. At first, she seemed to enjoy my hands roaming over her fifteen-year old body, as long as I was on the outside of her clothing. She'd let me feel her breasts, and even allow me to touch her pussy, but only if there were layers of cloth between us. The first time I slipped my hands under her shirt, I really thought she was going to break my arms with the strength she exhibited while stopping me dead in my tracks. One day, I'd decided that it was time to slip my hand down her pants. That manoeuvre was stopped by a good slap in the face that left a dark, red, splotchy hand print that I wore for days.
That was the first time that I felt like walking away from Brianna. The second was about two months later when she started to give me a blowjob, then decided that she couldn't be bothered to finish me. We were in the back yard of her parents' house that night, before they got home from some party they'd gone to. One minute I was standing there, watching this sexy girl sliding my cock in and out of her mouth, and the next, she stood up and headed for the back door. She'd literally left me standing in the dark. I'd tried to follow her, only to find the door locked with her on the other side. She even had the audacity to pull the curtain that covered the door's window aside to smile and wave at me before turning and walking in to the living room, acting as though I didn't even exist!
"I'm gonna cum!" I heard Dwight's voice scream, bringing me out of my trance and back to noisy reality. He was almost loud enough to be heard three or four counties away.
"No! Not in my cunt! I don't want to get pregnant!" Linda screamed right back.
"Linda, " I thought to myself, "you may be my sister, but when they passed out the brains, where the fuck were you hiding? This is the twenty-first Century, for chrissake! We have this modern-day miracle called birth control! Might want to think about researching it on your computer, instead of just watching porn all the time."
I had to give my head a shake at that understanding. Only my sister would consider unprotected sex with a dufus like Dwight Benson. This was a guy that needed to study for weeks on end just to take an IQ test, and he'd still probably fail the damned thing. But what was really scary was the fact that he seemed to be the brighter of the two of them! My sister could have given blondes an even worst reputation, except that she was only a blonde because of Clairol, or one of those other hair dye outfits. Her natural colour was a mousy brown, which would probably look a lot better than the electric yellow she currently wore.
I climbed the stairs and walked down the hall to my room, dropped my books on my desk, then headed back down to the kitchen. Usually I'd wait for supper before I had anything to eat, but for some reason, I was hungry as hell that afternoon. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Brianna had been behaving like she'd had permanent PMS for the last two weeks. Whatever the reason, I made myself a huge ham and cheese, and anything else that I could put my hands on, sandwich. Dagwood Bumstead would have been proud of me; Pepto-Bismol would be declaring an extra dividend after I finished that sandwich. Personally, I didn't give a shit one way or the other, about either Dagwood or about "The Pink Stuff". Going back upstairs had zero appeal to me, mostly because of the noise factor up there. Instead, I wandered into our family room, turned on the TV, muted the sound so that I wouldn't have to listen to umpteen thousand mindless commercials, and flipped through the channels. As usual, there was nothing worth watching. Still with the sound off, I let myself get lost in some stupid home renovation show. I don't even remember what it was they were trying to fix.
About fifteen minutes later, I heard the sound of Dwight and Linda sneaking down the stairs as she followed him to the front door. I guess I should have made my presence known, but I just couldn't be bothered. If Linda came into the family room, that was okay. If she didn't, that would be okay too. But she did, looking embarrassed that I was actually home.
"How long have you been here?" she enquired.
"I dunno. Maybe half an hour. Why?"
"Umm, were you listening in on Dwight and me?" Linda wanted to know, her naivety almost laughable.
"Wasn't hard, Kid," I informed her. "You two were loud enough to be heard all over the state of Kansas, and we live in western Washington. You guys might want to think about being a little more discreet when you have sex. What if it was Mom or Dad coming home early, instead of me? Dad would have your boobs for bookends, and Dwight would be singing high notes in the church choir. The old man would rip his nuts off, and we both know it."
I had to admit that for sixteen, going on seventeen, my sister's tree trunk definitely didn't go all the way up to the top branch. But to openly have sex in our parents' house? And then to make enough noise to wake the dead? Not smart, especially considering my father's temper if he ever found out.
Don't get me wrong. Our father wasn't a violent man by any means. Sure, he'd rant, rave, and scream a lot, but normally, he wouldn't hurt a fly. I'd learned at an early age that when he yelled at me, I'd survive unscathed. It was when he resorted to that soft, quiet voice while talking in an authoritative tone that I'd get really worried. It was a sign that he was no more than a second or two from erupting worse than Mount St. Helens. But Linda hadn't clued in to that. He'd come down on her like a ton of bricks, and Linda would be grounded for a week or more at a time. God help her if she tried to sneak out when she was. So far, it had cost her three boyfriends, who had dumped her when they couldn't even call her on the phone.
"Cory, what's it gonna take to get you to keep your mouth shut?" she asked, trying to buy my silence.
"Maybe for you to get a brain transplant? Look, Sis, if you and Dwight want to spend your afternoons fucking each others brains out, that's your business. I could care less. But if Dad ever catches you, I'm the one that's gonna catch hell as bad as you will. And if I do, I'm gonna be all over your ass like shit on toilet paper. So keep that in mind when you're telling everyone in New York City that you just got laid. Got it?"
Linda just sat on the arm of Dad's recliner with a blank look on her face. Except for the fact that I could see her chest moving as she breathed, I'd have almost wondered if she was dead or alive. But as it looked like any meaningful conversation between us was over, I went back to watching the silent renovation show on TV.
"Cory, if I sucked you off, would you keep this to yourself?" she blurted out.
"Linda, I wouldn't let you suck my cock if we were the last two people on the planet!" I snapped at her.
"Bullshit!" she exclaimed in retaliation. "All guys love to get sucked off, even the faggots that crank out the school newspaper! So what's it gonna take to get you to keep quiet?"
"All the guys on the newspaper, huh? What? Is that a rumour, or personal experience?"
Lord, I was playing with fire now. My sister had a bit of a reputation around the school, not that she knew anything about it. I got all the flak because my sister had round heels and an accommodating mouth, or so the story went. When I'd first started high school, I'd spent considerable time defending my older sibling's virtue. But when that many guys start saying the same thing about your sister, and that often, you start believing them. Her sexual activities over the last two years tended to confirm their allegations. In short, my sister would probably make the Happy Hooker look like a nun!
"What is it you want, then?" she came back at me.
.... There is more of this story ...