Primal Scream (Box Set #1, Taboo Sex + AFF) (2 page)

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Authors: Jess C Scott

Tags: #family, #literary, #family relations, #anthology, #literature, #erotic romance, #erotic literature, #contemporary fiction, #taboo, #taboo sex, #contemporary romance, #fiction, #sex, #contemporary, #stories, #cougar, #adult romance, #romance, #erotic fiction, #literary erotic fiction, #short stories

BOOK: Primal Scream (Box Set #1, Taboo Sex + AFF)
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Then the paranoia and urgency strikes.
Hurry up! Someone might be home any minute!

Why’s Julie’s room always so immaculate. Even if I pack my room and try to keep it clean it looks like a pigsty within a day or two at most. Clothes papers and empty water bottles all over. Julie’s is always neat and tidy and she puts everything back in their proper place and she doesn’t use any of those awful air fresheners or “deodorizers” like you find in malls or public restrooms but there’s this nice pleasant fresh sweet scent all the same maybe she burns scented candles every night I got her a set for her birthday. But she has so many so I don’t know if she’s used it oh god oh god oh yes what I’m here for...

I slide open her top drawer
yes yes oh yes
of course everything is in place. Whoa she’s gotten new stuff since the last time I was here a few weeks ago. Nice stuff too, lace and more lace, blacks reds. I knew she always had it in her. But those have the price tags on still.
Not used before?

But no wait! That’s good!
So maybe I’m seeing them first before Bobby or anyone else.

The label says ‘Made in Hong Kong’. High quality, I didn’t know that.

I run my fingers slowly over them. Gorgeous lace. See a Free VS Cotton Panty card on the tabletop. Exotic-looking black model to the right in a pink thong covering her bare tits with her bare arms. Yes pretty face nice hair and all but I think Julie should go be a model and appear in some lingerie catalog too. What is it with the sickly looking shapeless pale stick figures nowadays yet another thing I don’t think I’ll ever understand I mean it’ll be like humping a skeleton though I wouldn’t really know for sure it’s more of a postulation: now Julie, Julie ain’t a skeleton, she’s not fat either. She’s slim but curvaceous. Her hips. Her slender thighs. The curve of her waist that screams for your hand to be there. She’s going to be the death of me. How am I supposed to date and meet new people and look for the “girl of my dreams” when I’m already under the same roof with her day and night in, how do I figure this out—she doesn’t know, she doesn’t know how wrong it is to keep smiling and treating me nice I
am
her big brother after all, and if Bobby dares lay a hand on her...but I bet not that guy’s a total wuss, but anyone else how can they not with an angel’s face and body for sin like that? See everyone else is entitled to do whatever they want except ME
does she let them does she let them
but the important question is
would she let ME
.

So she hasn’t used this VS card yet. Goody, that means another one is coming soon. Suddenly I freeze:
I think I’m heterosexual. Yes I’m a teenage male that gets turned on by women's clothes, but recognizes himself as male, I just choose to express the ‘femininity’ of my personality. Might this even make me more able to have better sexual relationships with women? But what if I’m homo. How does liking wearing women's clothes make me homo when I would rather be in a relationship with a female than male. But what if I’m a bisexual that’s never been in a relationship with a man before? Or what’s that other one, transsexualism? What the hell does that mean anyway?

Then all of that doesn’t matter because I’m made aware of the fact that

I Am Stiff. Wanted to take this slower today but in this midst of the paranoia and actually being here that’s not going to happen. Strip my boxers off and reach out for two, three, thongs, gorgeous thongs, and
oh Julie if only you were here, I’m older/taller/bigger/smarter/fitter/better-looking than that ratface Bobby with the annoying hawk nose and greasy pimply face what the hell do you see in him anyway
. The sensation of lace is a new one, different from my own hands, oh oh oh anything is different and better than my own hands, my whole bod shivers with pleasure meeting with these freaking hot panties
that’s going to be BETWEEN JULIE’S LEGS!!!!!!!!!

Shoot a load into her underwear. Man alive that’s the most amount in the entire past month. And then I wear them, one of ’em. The red black really bad-girl looking one. That piece of string cutting up the ass sure isn’t fine, but I don’t fit all the way in them I’m so hard.

Julie I wish you were here I can only dream about you digging this big time. “Walk around the room” you’d command, be a dominatrix crack that whip tell me anything I’d do it and Julie you angel from Hell my own flesh and blood how can this be WHY god WHY oh who cares you’ll hump me for a while from outside and after a while you’ll tell me to take them off and to come and do you for hours all through the night and we’d be sore all over the next morning.

Man, I haven’t been this hard since forever oh I want to put the wood in her like I’ve come so damn hard I’ve now got a bloody cramp in my foot and I think I just heard the front door slam and yeah oh yeah that’s Mom’s jubilant voice singing “Ed! Are you home? I got you some cookies!”, and I think of the burnt cookie and Bobby and oh shit I have 20 seconds to get outta here will you notice what I left behind, Julie? We need an apartment something somewhere there’s no way in this house coz we’d tear the house down and keep the neighbors up and Mom’s eagle eyes man don’t get me started on that
do you know that when I say I wanna travel the world live in some place like Mauritius or the Maldives and all my escapist dreams, I really mean that I want to do all that with you I don’t know why it just seems to be a natural choice coz we know each other well and get on with each other great why shouldn’t we and Julie you’re the one person that doesn’t judge me
oh I guess I’ll lay these back neatly like you left and like it and maybe you’ll dream of me before you sleep at night like I do about you Julie,
Julie

 

[Julie : 3 February 2007]

 

Bobby dumped me.

I don’t know if I was expecting or asking too much. I feel like I’ve wasted a whole portion of my life. I could have spent this time doing much more useful things.

I really need a life, and have to let loose more instead of getting caught up in relationship rubbish.

If I think back, there was one point where I figured that things weren’t working out for either of us.

Some guys say that going down on a girl is “nasty”. I guess it doesn’t really taste like honey all of the time, but if we’re going to go down on them all the time, I think it’s only fair that both sides make the effort to please each other.

Oh well. So we were in the basement. It was around Christmas time. I was at his house, we were alone in the basement, and we were making love.


Will you go down on me?” I ventured.

I read in magazines countless times. That in relationships, it’s all about communication. That if I wanted something from my boyfriend, whether it was sexual or not, I’d have to voice up and let him know about it. Because nobody is a mind-reader. So okay, I bought that. Now to sit back and see what results I would get for my efforts.

It’s a good thing I am a cynical pessimist sometimes. It keeps you from being bruised a little too much. Ed thinks I’m smart, that’s why I don’t take crap from anyone, but I think I’m just more of a realist more than anything.

So I waited. Saw Bobby’s face in between my thighs. He was fingering me, not really knowing what to do next.

Did I really expect him to answer, “Yes, dear — your wish is my command,” like some incredible sexual-requests-granting genie?

Well, maybe. For just a wishy-washy second.

He was hesitating. His hesitation seemed to conquer his...enthusiasm (if there was any to begin with)...in this “something new” to try out.

He did try it out though. He first gave a lick. There was nothing wrong with the actual lick. It was light, tentative, careful, and he didn’t really seem totally grossed out.

But his heart wasn’t in it.

It was, like, “Okay, you asked for something, so I gave it to you. So there.” Was it pleasant for him? Was I forcing him to do something he didn’t want to?


Do I continue?” he asked. Not in an unfriendly manner.

I decided to give it one more chance.


Mmm,” I uttered as sexily as I could. I shot him a sultry look with my eyes. I gave him the sauciest smile I could manage too. I wanted him to know that I didn’t doubt his abilities. That there was no rush about anything. That I wanted us to both enjoy it.

He kept at it for a while. I writhed around more out of obligation than actual ecstasy. My own inventive uses of the edges of chairs and tables could do the job ten times better.


Can I go back to what we were doing before?” I heard Bobby say.


Alright, baby,” I replied. “Your tongue’s getting tired, huh?”


I guess you’re taking too long to come.”

I laughed. We rolled over and started spooning. I glanced at the clock on the wall — he must have been at it for about ten minutes, tops.

From then on things were just...different.

Maybe I should have waited a little longer. I did love Bobby, so I thought it was right, I thought it would
be
right...the first time was quite good. It was memorable, because we were both excited and horny. It took two or three times to get the position right.

But now, he was just a little spaced out a lot of the time. Like he’d rather be doing something else than be with me. The spark had gone out.

Maybe he had the hots for someone else. I didn’t want to know so I didn’t ask.

I told Sandra about this incident at Bobby’s basement. But even she doesn’t know about the other thing that I’ve never told anyone about.

When Bobby was between my thighs, I found myself fantasizing about another male. Someone who’d really just enjoy going down on me and who’d take his time with it, and enjoy the time spent with me instead of griping on how long I took to come and all sorts of other technicalities.

I thought far out — I thought of Jonathan Rhys Meyers. I thought of Johnny Depp. I thought of Orlando Bloom. Jude Law. Some model I saw on a Burberry’s ad.

And suddenly, for a moment or two, I thought of
Ed
. Ed Noel Drake, with his dark hair and nice eyes. I told him that his eyes reminded me of Elvis Presley once. He said, “Thanks. That’s what every sister should say to their older brother,” and I smiled. 

I’ve always taken it as a compliment when people say we look alike because with his good build, handsome youthful features (high cheekbones, beautiful smile — natural, no orthodontic makeover required), he’s quite God’s gift to women.

And as I was sighing, and moaning, the sigh was because I just knew that Ed wouldn’t have said the same thing that Bobby did. But I wondered how I was going to ever find that out to prove it.

Ed’s a good older brother. Protective, so I made sure Bobby wasn’t around too much. Why Ed would ever want to know what I taste like, is some fantasy I’d best keep to myself.

We are pretty close siblings. I would have to be out of my mind to allow something like that, to mess things up between us.

 

[Ed / 12 March 2007]

 

There is a GOD. Julie told me yesterday that she just broke up with Bobby I asked her what happened she said things just weren’t working out and I said good now you can get yourself a better guy
meaning me of course a loud voice says from somewhere above my head
wow I guess she’s finally opened her eyes.

Then Kingston sends me a text telling me there’s a party over at his house today, coz his folks are out of town, and I say to Julie “hey man let’s go you can get your mind off Bobby it’ll be fun” and she says “yes that sounds like a good idea” and we tell Mom we’re going to watch a late-night movie later tonight and Mom says “okay” coz we told her while she was yakking on the phone about some Desperate Housewives episode then OH.ME.OH.MY I realize that this is the day I have been waiting on ever since I can remember.

We’re already here and everyone is pissed drunk the number of people making out upstairs I don’t have enough fingers to count them, and one of the rooms with clothes on the bed reminds me of when I saw Julie changing when she was 13. I must have seen her changing before but that’s the one I remember. At home her door is normally closed when she’s getting dressed. Nobody knows except the walls of that clubhouse we went to over the weekend.

It was one of those chalets we were in. 4pm her door was open I was walking by she had three or four shirts laid out on the bed. Her girlish body, just on the brink of teenagedom. She was more concerned with picking out the best one than having privacy the sun’s rays were shining in, her hair was falling over her chest she’s so pretty, and she has only gotten prettier since. I went into the shower where I was heading to and masturbated myself to climax.

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