Family Secrets (3 page)

For two years straight, Brittney and Scott
had more sex than probably two or three other official couples
combined, but Brittney couldn’t help but feel a little relief—along
with fear and a twinge of sadness—when Scott had graduated and went
on off to college. For a while, when his son had been younger, Luke
had been afraid that Scott wouldn't have been able to go on to
college and stay on-campus, but he had managed just fine.

The last time Brittney had had sex with Scott
was right before he'd gone off to college. They'd had a quickie in
the bathroom in his room right before they'd finished loading up
his car with his things.

Now, as she looked at him, she couldn't
believe how much they'd both grown up. Scott was twenty now, living
on his own in an off-campus apartment with a handful of friends. As
far as Brittney knew, he hadn't had one of his episodes since his
junior year of high school, and it hadn't been a bad one, nothing
like the ones he'd had when he'd been younger. Brittney had never
known if his having sex on a regular basis had contributed greatly
to his lack of rage-filled tangents, but all she knew was that
she'd been grateful. She hadn't voiced her concerns to anyone
before they saw Scott off to college, but she'd been worried that
he wouldn't be able to handle things in the real world. She hadn't
wanted to think of herself as his buffer, but it had been hard not
to.

"I did miss you," Brittney heard herself say
as she stroked his hair and he looked up into her face and their
eyes locked.

"Sometimes, I used to think you hated me,"
Scott had said, sheepishly. He'd almost sounded babyish. That was
the thing about Scott and his issues; he could go into rages, or
deep depressions; he could sound as if he was in charge one minute,
as someone his age would, or if he were feeling vulnerable, he
would revert to sounding like a child. It was remarkable, and it
was scary and it was sad, but it was Scott, and even though he was
complicated, and their relationship as stepbrother and stepsister
was complicated, she loved him and she cared a lot about him. And
she had honestly missed him; she hadn't lied to him about that.

"I never hated you," she said.
I used to
feel sorry for you
, she thought, but didn't dare say.

They were both home now only because of
Winter Break at their respective schools. Brittney went to a
college nearby, for her own special reasons, and she came home
often enough, but she also enjoyed her freedom whenever she managed
to find a little. The year before, Scott hadn't come for his winter
break, and even though things had changed in their house, his
absence had been felt. They'd all missed him. Nobody could deny
that.

But with those four words she'd just spoken,
she knew what she could do for her big brother; after all, they
weren't unfamiliar to one another in those intimate ways that
normal stepsiblings usually aren't privy to one another. She knew
exactly how she could make him feel better.

She tugged one of his hands from where he had
it laid across her duvet since that particular arm had been draped
over her body. She moved it so that it went underneath her covers.
He wasn't resisting her, but she could tell he wasn't sure of what
she had in mind. In truth, she knew him better than he thought. He
was holding his breath, hoping that he would get what he wished she
would give, but he still wasn't sure that she was going to give
it.

But she had every intention of giving it. She
wasn't going to tease him.

She took his fingers and unfurled them, and
let the palm of his hand glide up and down the front of her
panties. She wasn't horny, not in the least, but she would let him
have some relief and find his release. In the process, she was
hoping that her engine would start revving and she'd heat up for
him; maybe she wouldn't be boiling and begging for his cock, but
she was hoping she could enjoy a moment between the two of
them.

Hesitantly, Scott slipped his fingers under
the thin waistband of her panties and then his whole hand was under
the thin sheath of material that made up the front of her
underwear. They both heard the rip of her panties as his too-big
hands stretched their way closer to her sex, and with that sound
and the tight pull of the material, Brittney gave way to a small
sigh. No longer hesitant, with that one sound Scott bent his head
forward and began to suck her breasts again. They were small
breasts, hardly a handful but just so, and they didn’t seem to have
changed in size very much even though she was now eighteen going on
nineteen, but somehow they seemed different to him. Or perhaps he'd
only just missed being with Brittney, which he hadn't thought would
happen once he got around other girls, only he'd found that being
around other females away at college had only made him think of her
even more.

Scott found that other girls weren't only
needy, but he felt as if he was keeping some deep dark secret from
them because they didn't know about his mental problems. He knew
that once he got serious about a girl he'd have to let her know
something
, but he still hadn't figured out how to tell a
stranger about his feelings and some of the things that went on in
his head at times. But Brittney knew. He didn't have to explain any
of it to her. She knew and she accepted him. And he believed she
even loved him, and not just because her mom had married his dad
fourteen years earlier. He hated to admit that he had feelings for
his stepsister, but he did; he also knew he couldn't do anything
about those feelings.

Well, there were a few things he could do
about them…

As he sucked her left nipple, gingerly
holding the small supple breast in his palm, he let his lips give a
little
pop
as he pulled away from her hardened areola. He
knew she liked it when he did that, and to confirm that fact, she
moaned even more after he'd done it. With a smile on his face, he
then traced his tongue over the very tip of her nipple, letting his
saliva leave a trail in midair while he let more fall from his
mouth, moistening her skin. She had such soft creamy skin, and her
pink areolas made her seem innocent; her flawless peaches and cream
complexion that still had some of the downy soft white-gold hair on
it made her body look innocent as well, even though he knew she
wasn't.

Sometimes he'd feel guilty when he thought of
how he'd taken her virginity, but he'd think about how good it had
felt, and how—after she had stopped groaning about it hurting—she
had started grabbing at his ass, pulling him into her, telling him
to go deeper, that it felt so good. She would whisper to him to go
harder, and he would, and he'd sometimes bury his hard-as-a-rock
cock inside of her dripping hot pussy and wish he could freeze
himself in that moment she'd felt so good to him. He'd feel guilty,
but then he'd think about all their good times and he knew he
wouldn't have traded those times for anything. When he'd heard
other guys his same age wishing that some girl they liked would
eventually give it up to them before they graduated, he thought
about how lucky he was to have a girl right under the same roof as
him, and all he had to do was tiptoe into her bedroom at night. And
most times, he didn't even have to wait for nightfall.

Then his dad had come to him and let Scott
know that he knew everything. Scott had blanched at the knowledge
of it, but then Luke had done something Scott never would have
expected his father to do. Instead of chewing him out for having
sex with Brittney, whom Scott knew his father had adored, Luke had
told him that as long as Brittney was okay with having sex with
him, he wasn't going to put a stop to it. Luke had said those words
regretfully, but Scott had been sure he'd heard his old man right.
He'd then told Scott that he'd rather them not do it, but Scott
having sex with Brittney was "better than the alternative." Scott
had a feeling he knew what that meant, but he wasn’t going to say
anything he'd been thinking out loud.

At the brothel his father had taken him to,
he'd chosen what he'd wanted from a "menu" that the cathouse had
provided, and after choosing that, he'd chosen a woman from a
lineup. During the negotiation process, Scott had been told to
listen to the transaction and give his input whenever necessary,
and he hadn't thought his father could afford anything of the sort
on a regular basis, but Luke had never mentioned anything about the
money to him. But Scott wasn't an idiot. Luke had been dishing out
a lot of cash to that place, and when Scott had suggested he just
pay a street prostitute, Luke had shaken his head and had given him
a vehement, "No."

According to Luke, dealing with street
prostitutes wasn't only sleazy, but it was dangerous as well. He'd
explained to Scott that street prostitutes were basically owned by
pimps. Most of them would steal from a guy if he looked vulnerable
enough, even if the john had already paid them the fee they'd been
owed.

With the girls they went to at the brothels,
it was a clean place, the girls were clean, they weren't just about
being quick, but the man was paying for them to be attentive as
well.

"Besides, the girls in brothels cost more,
but they also shower between clients," Luke had told Scott. "With a
prostitute off the street, you don't want what she's putting on you
from another man regardless if she uses a condom."

Scott's choices had been either visiting a
brothel, getting a girlfriend at school and trying to have sex with
her, or using Brittney for sex since she was the most convenient.
It sounded sick putting it that way because it made his stepsister
sound like some sort of throwaway object, even though he hadn't
felt that way about her at all; it was just the truth of the
matter. If he tried to have sex with a girl his own age, he knew it
could work out well, but there were always so many obstacles, not
to mention he couldn't do it with a girlfriend as much as he could
do it with Britt.

Therefore it had been settled. It wasn't the
perfect situation, but it was the best situation Scott or Luke
could come up with; Brittney seemed to be collateral damage in the
end, which was always what had made Scott feel guilty. He did feel
as if he was using her, and he knew that wasn't right.

Now, years later, a flash of guilt had gone
through his mind when he'd been entering her bedroom, but that
guilt had fled once he'd put his hand down the front of her
panties. She was wet. He'd eased his fingers over her smooth mound
of flesh just below her stomach and then he'd quickly come to the
petals of her vaginal lips, and they'd been soaking. He hadn't
known if she was horny or not—plenty of times in the past she'd
told him she hadn't been horny, but when he'd touched her down
there, she'd been dripping with pussy juice—but she felt it. If the
outside of her pussy was drenched, he knew that her walls had to be
aching to be filled, and he was aching to fill them.

He deftly moved the material of her panties
to the side and slid his fingers up and down her dripping slit. In
the quiet of the room, where it was only their breathing and slight
movements to contend with, the sound of her pussy juice lapping
against the palm of his hand reverberated. That sound was music to
Scott's ears; it always had been.

He let two of his fingers glide over her
clit, but it was frustrating trying to massage it the way he
wanted, and he found that he had to do a little extra movement to
stretch her so he could continue to explore the area that he hadn't
been able to explore in what felt like much too long.

Slowly, he brought his face up from her
chest, reluctantly moving away from her tits, and their eyes
locked. Again, slowly he lowered his face to hers and let his lips
fall against her lips, as he wondered if this would be the moment
of rejection. But she didn't reject him. She opened her mouth and
let him put his tongue against hers. This time, he moaned, and with
a jerky, awkward movement of his hand, he slid a finger inside of
her opening, and immediately was gripped by the soft folds of her
pussy, her inner walls so moist and hot enclosing around his digit
with what felt like an appetite. As her walls undulated, he
realized they were pulling him inside, beckoning him, and oh boy,
had he missed that feeling of wanting from a pussy that he knew so
well. Being with Brittney was like coming home in a whole other
way.

He explored her mouth with his tongue as he
hadn't done in so long, and with his fingers, he played with her
pussy, using his thumb to stroke the tip of her clitoris, which
she'd told him in the past she loved. She'd always had the
strongest, longest orgasms when he stroked the tip of her clit for
a while, and more than once she'd squirted everywhere, and in turn,
he'd shot his load and had nearly covered her. That was exactly
what he had in mind to do to her tonight—or something similar to
that—and he was hoping heartily that it would be as good in his
head, and so far so good.

Scott pulled his lips away from hers just
long enough to ask, "Will you suck it? Just for a bit…" He didn't
want to add
for old times' sake
, and he didn't want to sound
desperate for a blowjob either, even though that's pretty much the
way he felt. Even the first time she'd put her mouth on his cock
had been great, and she had never even done it before.

Instead of speaking, Brittney only nodded,
and trying not to seem too eager—and failing—Scott pulled his hand
as gently away from her soaking vagina as he could and started
sitting up on the bed, using his elbows to hoist himself before he
made his way to his knees. Quickly, he crawled up toward the head
of the bed, getting his crotch as close to Brittney's face as he
could. Then he spread his knees atop the bed, positioning himself
comfortably enough so that he had leverage and wouldn't topple over
once it started getting too good and his head started swimming.