The floor creaks as I travel the short distance down the hall. My aim is to make it to the bathroom. Why? Because mother's old makeup brushes are in there. I can use them, so there's no need to suffer with that feeling of emptiness. I have to get there but, my thoughts are elsewhere. This body of mine rejects the orders I've given it, halting in a familiar position. Fingers cupping the door handle, heart pounding in my ears. Saliva stuck in my windpipe, no matter how much I swallow. The knot still forms, it's nervousness that sieges me. And impulse that controls me.
Whilst slipping in through a crack in the doorway. I've grown accustomed to opening a little more each year. It doesn't feel like it's been eight years already. But it definitely has been. I stand over my father's bed. He's sleeping peacefully not the slightest knowledge, of what his little girl is doing. He'd probably be ashamed of me, but I can't bring myself to care. I've done this so long.
I'm drowned by the inevitable. I bask in it, ready to die, with lungs full of water. My heart is the cinder block that drags me to the ocean floor. My brain merely force that throws me overboard. There is no struggle only surrender. Sometimes I fall deep, get locked inside these thoughts. That spread about becoming a sexual haze. Until I'm suddenly very detached from reality. All that matters is what my body needs, and my heart wants. Morals, laws, expectations, and shame, it all fades away. They lay existent like fog on the mirror to my soul. I stand in front of it using my thoughts, as nothing more than a towel to wipe it all away.
Much like my body isn't my own. I can see myself lifting the bottom of my dress. Shove the fabric into my mouth. Cradling it between my two front teeth and lips. Tongue absentmindedly licking the satin. The grip is loose now, but it'll tighten soon enough. This is the only way I maintain volume control. Instantly index and middle fingers slide on either side of my labia. It's still soft but once the lips are spread. It's wet, cold, and hot a terrible mix of sensations. Yet I remain enchanted, it feels divine my breath is staggered. Inhaling weakly through my nose is the only choice. When all I desire is to cry out for him. In an effortless motion, those finger clamp around my clit. A jolt of pleasure, forces a muffled squeak out of my mouth. I bite the end of my dress much harder.
Squeezing so much tighter my thighs quiver. A blush covers my face. Stinging my cheeks painfully causing more saliva to well up. Unwilling to let go, even as I feel tremors wrack my frame. It starts to become painful though that's definitely satisfactory as well. I don't think father would be gentle enough with me. Besides I would never ask him to. Pain is pleasure right? I have to be able to handle this. Unsteady feet bring me closer...Far closer than I know I should be. Left arm now reaching froward holding onto the nightstand. As I plant one of my feet up on the bed. Right next to his shoulder. I curl those toes and the fabric of his nightshirt is caught between them. Playfully I give a tug, not like it matters he never wakes up.
I must be insane.
If I leaned down a little further. I could get close enough, to feel his breath on my pussy. If he welcomed it, I could ride his face. I wouldn't even mind it. As long as he held my hips. And told me if I was doing a good job or not. My thoughts are bold, however not enough to distract me from the way I'm touching myself. It won't hurt, just a little, this is fine! I convince myself finally releasing the swelling bud from my own grasp. In order to hesitantly stroke my opening. Circling around it teasing tonight I wanted penetration. So why am I still so nervous?
Because if he was to awaken right now. He would have a clear view of what I'm doing.
Wake up father, come on wake up. I need you!
…..
For the love of god, please don't do that. I don't want you to see my lewd face. Hear my voice, watch the way my hands and legs shake. Inexperienced lost and craving contact of all sorts. Don't watch me make any more mistakes. I've failed you enough haven't I? I can't even orgasm on my own. I still need your help father. I always need your help. I'm needy, I'm sorry!
A finger slips inside. Just one and I exhale too loudly. Dress dropped drown from my mouth. I almost shattered into a million pieces. As a hand covered my mouth. It's not my own. The finger inside me is also not my own. I've got to start paying more attention. My head is thrown back and leaning against the shoulder. Of the only person who would touch me like this. And has been for quite some time now. Ever since I turned thirteen, I'll admit I've been out of control. It's already been two years of this madness with him.
No.
Actually I can't take all the blame, the two of us have been out of control.
The sexual desire won't stop, and there's only each other to rely on physically. In all my instability I want father. And in all his skewered perception he craves mother. This is the closest we can get without getting into trouble. We're coping right?... Sure we could do this with other people but the facts undeniable. It's because he's my brother. That I let him touch me in the first place. I don't want anyone who's not family to touch me. I think it's the filthiest thing, strangers can't touch my body. I'll never let them.
Am I sick?
Yes probably.
But he told me the same two years ago when this all began. "Fuyumi I don't need anyone else. You're the only one that resembles mother. I need you stay with me." How the hell was I ever supposed to say no? I was needed for the same thing I wanted him for. We're damaged and this works to hold us together. It was the perfect exchange.
"Wow Fuyu-chan at it again? You know someday he's going to catch you." I can hear the amusement and false disdain coating his words. Just stop talking you ignorant fool! If anything he'll catch me because you're in here too! I turn my head to the side, and attempt to glare. The only way I can warn him to shut his mouth. Is totally disregarded, distance is the key to authority with him. Somehow I've noticed the closer I am, the less he listens. A kiss is planted on my lips instead. Short, sweet, and chaste then his nose is buried in my neck. Head craned down so that he may reach me. It's so different from two years ago. When he could only reach my collarbones. The tables have turned, I have to say for the better. Because the bigger he gets...the closer to reality my fantasy becomes.
Sirens should have been blaring in my head. We were doing the unthinkable, still the fluids seem to drip down my legs with no end in sight. The palm of his hand grazing my clit. Each time he inserts his finger into me. Natsuo's body temperature is a bit higher than mine. Not by much but enough I feel a difference. And I can revel in it. My imagination works very well, higher, hotter, and much harder. I can picture my head against father's chest. As his fingers work me over. Practically feel myself hunched over whimpers and moans escaping me. Not being given the slightest chance to open up on my own. I'll submit to father testing my body in the best way. Wanting to see how many fingers go inside. Before eventually he's fucking my pussy. Because it's that good, I want to be that good for him.
My nipples are hard at this point. Natsuo is groping my breast. They're over sensitive it hurts. Twinges of pain flare only to be ignored. Now both my hands are clutching the nightstand. I lean in a little further. It's not his desk like I want it to be. I can't shove his paperwork onto the floor. Nevertheless I find my hands clamoring. Nails scraping against the wood. Accidentally I knock their wedding picture over. And for a short moment, Natsuo and I halt our actions. Father doesn't stir in the leans over mouth next to my ear. A hand tangled in my hair. That's mid length covering my shoulders. I actually keep it this way for him. It reminds Natsuo of mother so he loves it. He pulls it roughly. My head is yanked to the side. A shaky breath comes from my lips.
Holy shit that feels amazing.
"You're getting carried away little girl. Let's get out of here."
While I do not wish to leave father's bedroom. The commanding presence behind me, I live with in substitution for his. Is giving me orders now. Not to mention other things I want. The rough treatment, pet names, penetration, he's treating me the way I like. As though I'm just his housewife. I'm gonna follow Natsuo for now. It would be wrong, if I didn't listen to the man in charge. "Yes sir." I smile through the sexually aroused face I'm certainly making. While his hands finally leave me. My body feels as if it's steaming. I'm lured in by lust. We sneak out of the bedroom one at a time and into the hall. I close the door back same as usual. As if I never entered in the first place.
I love this special sort of high. Actually I can't consider this a high it runs too deep. It's more like an infection, consumes me rather I want it or not. Our perfect family curse. I've never been blind. Mother may have been though she only saw father. Her field of vision was small. Maybe that will change in the future. There's more to a family than just husband and wife. I find myself unable to blame her however. She's always been love sick in the worse way. I remember fondly her whispering, at social events to nobody except herself. About how it would be so simple. To manipulate her ice into a blade. And puncture the heart of the next person who stood next to father.
She was indiscriminate in her hatred of anyone who wasn't him. The love my parents share is pure though twisted. There's ownership issues that need to be worked out. Mother was always insane for as long as I can remember. Should have been locked away sooner. I still miss her dearly. No matter how broken she is, She's my ideal image of what a woman should be for her man. That's why I try so hard, to fill the slippers she's left waiting at the front of father's bed. To take that seat on the throne next to him. Even if I'm only second place that's fine. I want to keep father warm for her return.
I see this family curse in all of us. Everyone has a staring problem. I stare at father, Natsuo stares at mother, father stares at Shouto. Touya was an insecure soul who glanced at me, but wouldn't attempt to fill the request etched into my soul. A coward till the end no wonder he's not here anymore. And sweet little Shouto he's the most infected of all. He's got the worse staring problem. Everyone who lives and has lived, in this house before is targeted. All forms of attention he demands it.
Honestly I think it's endearing.
But...
He should keep away from father.
We don't make it very far, half way down the hall to his bedroom. Then I was grasped by my neck and slammed up against the wall. He isn't safe, doesn't avoid my windpipe. Is literally crushing me under the force of his palm. Fingers digging into the veins in my neck. I know that this will bruise later. I choke on saliva trailing down the corner of my mouth. Eyes unsteady, heaving for any gasp of air he'll allow me to have. It's not even in timed intervals. He deprives me, only if he's feeling gracious I'm allowed air. This man has a control issue it doesn't bother me.
I find it attractive he's always doing what he likes to me. No regards for my safety. Because I had better be okay, or he'll just make it worse. I wouldn't like to fail him. The same as I've done father. Natsuo know the little things, that make me tick. One of which is to feel my blood. Thrumming in my veins against the palm of his hand struggling to circulate. While I can't articulate, there is no choice. After all little girls don't get choices. They just get fucked and that's how this is going down.
And where are my hands at? Surely there's some reflexive fight for freedom.
No.
I lost that a long time ago.
My hands are fumbling with his pants. The fingertips feeling quite numb. Untying the draw strings to his pajamas. Once pants are down he steps out the cloth cage. Closer to me like magnetism. Full blown erection already. It's thick I desire to touch it. As I have many times. But he slips it between my thighs. Hand finally releasing my neck. Only to hoist one of my legs up. I'm panting uncontrollably as my body starts to function again. Resting my head on his shoulder. There's simply no way I can hold it up right now. Though I'm still active like live wire. I grab for his cock anyways despite the location. Only to be blocked by the feel of his own hand. Wrapped around his length, with an immense grip. The tip sliding over my clit repeatedly. Resting my hand on his, I can't help but wonder why I'm being teased?
I've been listening intently to the sounds of our sticky bodies, so close to connecting but too far away. Gyrating my hips doesn't help this situation. Instead my pussy slides along his shaft. Producing an even lewder sound. Ripping a gasp from him that's too good to ignore. Stomach coiling I can feel my walls clenching. The need to have him inside me is consuming my thoughts. It's a shot in the dark. He might fuck me up. But I want to try begging. I'm not adverse to punishment. So I dig a little deeper with my wants and needs. Ankle digging into his flank. Since he forced me to hold this position.
My hand being swatted away. Pulls a yelp out of my throat. That echos into the darkness of the hallway. That was a warning slap, I need to be more stationary less active more submissive. I know he needs this control. So I'm kind about it. Place both hands on his shoulders. Careful not to dig my nails in. Mother wouldn't mark him that way. Even if I want to tear through the flesh. Feel skin gather up in long strips underneath my nails. I wanna watch his blood soak into my cuticles. I want it so bad!
Be that as it may.
This is supposed to be for both of our benefit.
He needs to see me weak and I can do that. Ah but I'm a strong girl who steps on landmines. Begging is an iffy measure, why not see how it stacks up today? "Mmm~ N-No stop p..please don't tease me?" A curt dissatisfied noise floods my ears. I'll shut up now. In fact I'm given no choice. When I'm shoved down to my knees. Wanting to reach up towards him. But the straps to my dress are a nonverbal reminder.
Remain stationary you're a glass doll. He's free to break you if he wishes.
"What's with that disgusting behavior? Do you not trust your husband to take care of you? Huh do you think I can't satisfy your needs? That I'm moving too slow, not doing enough, is it not fun for you?" There's question after question he just threw at me. And a bold dare for me to answer. I know better now is certainly not the time. I'm in a lot of trouble already as it is. Every now and then I'm too much myself, not enough like her. I break character and that shit causes problems. Instantaneous unexpected movement throws me off kilter. His foot is between my legs. Just hovering not touching it's torture. There's no contact between us currently. It's what I yearn for. But it's not about me never was it's about us, and I'm eye level with his cock. Yes my risky behaviors causes problems that I pay for. Hopefully I can convince him to forgive me.
A lick of my lips is all it takes to invite him inside.
I choke, gag, swallow and sputter nonsense. Around the girth of his cock, lodged inside my mouth. I'm lightheaded eyes partially lidded. Looking up at him from my position on the floor. While he yanks my head back and forth. I feel the precum sliding up against my cheek. Pushed to max capacity. The visible obstruction it leaves behind. That moves from left to right. Is incentive to suck more. Try to hallow my cheeks out. But it proves to be too big of a challenge. Slowly I lower my hips, pressing my pussy up against him. I shouldn't be doing this right now.
While he strokes my stuffed cheek gently, it elicits something like a moan from me. It was an instinctive vocalization. I'm supposed to be getting more pleasure. From the way I'm currently rutting against his leg. All too grateful he hasn't shoved me off, for not focusing solely on him. But my mind refuses to work normally. This is sensory devouring. I enjoy the gentle pat, the feel of something on my pussy, And the feel of having my face thoroughly fucked all the same. I've grown an oral fixation of sorts. Can't help craving him in my mouth. Even if he doesn't like it. I recall fondly the day I tried rimming him. And he whacked me on the back of my neck. Followed by an indignant yell of; "I didn't ask you to do that!" Ha! I press too many limits. It bruised for two weeks and was a bitch to hide.
My hands find their way to his hips. As both his voice and movements accelerate. It's in my mouth then…on the roof of my mouth. I can feel the subtle ridges being used as nothing more than ribbed cock sleeve. There's a gathering of semen and saliva at my gum line. That I try my best to hold in. While running the bottom of my tongue over his pulsating erection. In rapid succession, if I slow down he'll get mad. I'll never be accused of not being good for him. I do my best always. Even if that means my 'best', will have me nose pressed to his pelvic bone. Getting my uvula abused by a twitching and heavily thrusting cock. Expanding my windpipe just like right now. My chest feels heavy all manners of breath unsteady.
Please help me god it burns?
I love it.
I love this.
I'm addicted.
Fuck it!
Fuck me please!
Coat the inside of my mouth with your seed!
God help me please?
Just when I think I've done good enough.
Much like car accidents. It's not the crash that kills you, but the sudden stop that ends it all. I collapse down fully onto the floor. Cock ripped away from my throat. A drawn out whine escapes me. I wasn't quite ready to let him go. I'm grovelling at the feet. Of the man I was just grinding on so furiously. It all feels foggy too bad it isn't taken seriously. His semen and saliva slicked cock rest above my head. Bouncing with arousal as his hand comes out towards me. I take it he pulls me up. Ah Natsuo is being nice. Guess my mouth earned his forgiveness after all. He could have left me there. There's been times much earlier on he has. Decided to finish elsewhere. Now I wonder if this was because I failed? Or he was having second thoughts? Well the time for doubts has long since been over.