The Safe House
Copyright© 2026 by JP Bennet
Chapter 21
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 21 - A family flees persecution, hiding with a friend and her husband. As months pass kindness comes with a price. The story starts slow and builds up more and more. If you are here for the sex skip to Chapter 21 and beyond.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/ft Coercion Fiction Cuckold Humiliation Slow
When I woke up, he’d already dropped off breakfast. Mom was still in bed. Dad was rereading old papers.
I couldn’t stand being stuck with them.
I tried reading but kept thinking of him.
I stretched and lifted till my muscles ached.
But there was just silence.
When he came it was already late.
He brought some food and took the old tray.
I stood up to help him carry the bucket.
He stopped me and lifted his hand.
“You need to stay in here.”
“But...”
“No.”
And that was it. But I wasn’t going let it be.
I lay reading but the words just passed me by.
When Dad turned off the light, I lay staring into the dark.
I could hear their breathing.
Dad faintly snoring. Mom labouring with her cold.
I crept out of bed.
Inch by inch to the back of the wardrobe.
I moved the panel, so slow it felt like it wasn’t moving it all.
A breath.
Nothing.
I pushed through the coats and into the hall.
It was dark. The sitting room was empty.
The curtains undrawn.
I crept towards the window, keeping to the ground.
I could see the moon.
The first time in a year I had seen the sky.
I’d never really appreciated it before.
I lay back appreciating it.
Outside I could hear some boys chatting as they walked around the corner.
The floorboards creaked.
I froze.
Someone was coming down the hall.
It must be Hugh.
I lay in silence as he went to the bathroom and then back.
I lay there longer looking at the sky. Hearing the passers-by.
I was so alone.
Mom was getting better but wasn’t well enough to help.
He didn’t ask me to help, but I felt like he looked at me differently now.
The day passed in its usual silence.
When I could feel that mom and dad’s breathing had steadied for the night, I crept back out of bed.
It felt like it took me an hour to get out of the room, but I had no way to tell the time.
The house felt empty. I crept past the sitting room. I knew where I needed to step so the floorboards wouldn’t make a sound.
All the rooms were dark.
It was a bit cold with just my T-shirt and underwear on. In the cramped room with my parents, it never got cold.
The door to Hugh’s bedroom was slightly ajar.
I’d walked past it. I’d never entered.
Mom had been in there countless times.
I snuck to the door. The room was dark.
Would the door make a noise if I moved it?
I pushed it pen just enough to squeeze through, then pushed where it had been.
The room was dark, but I could make out the outline of a bed.
It was large. Maybe it was larger than our room?
I stood there for a long time before moving.
I should have left.
Instead, I eased myself onto the mattress beside him, moving carefully so the bed barely shifted.
He didn’t wake.
For a while I only lay there listening to him breathe.
Then, slowly, I rested my hand against his chest.
He stirred just enough to turn toward me.
“Claire,” he murmured.
The name hit me like a hand against my ribs.
But his breathing steadied again almost immediately. Still asleep.
I stayed there another minute, maybe two, not moving at all.
Then I slipped back out into the hallway and closed the door behind me.
I tried to get his attention again. I’m sure he must have noticed me, but he gave no sign.
Mom was feeling better now but was still a bit slow.
She even came back to our room straight after her bath.
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