I noticed that the sun had started to set, and the room was getting colder. I asked Mr. Furlong if he minded me turning on the heater. He told me to go ahead.
I knew I had barely scratched the surface of the last 10 years of Eric’s life, or at least the parts of it we shared, and I wondered at what point the investigator would either invite himself over for dinner or ask to continue the interview the following day. So far, he seemed unfazed by the time things were taking.
With Alan out of the picture, getting dope was getting harder. I knew some folks in Denver but it was no fun, so we were using a bit less. Which made us restless. And made us look for distraction elsewhere. Those months were when Eric learnt sex. He was rough, let me tell you. Very rough. But he had a secret fire inside of him. And he was eager to learn. And I was eager to teach.
So, we sat down. We were still kids in a way, you know? We had a whole schedule made up in our heads. One day, we’d practice oral. Then endurance the next day. And so on. But sometimes we’d just do it because we felt like it. Some nights we’d wait for our parents to go to bed, and then he’d sneak into my room, and we’d have sex. The bed was tiny and tight, but we’d sleep over. Set an alarm for, like, 5 in the morning so he could go back to his room. Other times we’d fuck and then he’d go to sleep in his room. There really was no hard and fast rule. We did what we wanted how we wanted it. Just, trying our best never to get caught.
In a way those were the easiest months of our relationship. We only cared to score enough cocaine and that our parents didn’t figure out we were doing it. Everything else, it was fair game.
I remember this one night in particular. We were all watching a movie. And our living room at the time it had two couches, on opposite walls of the room, but facing the TV, like at a slant angle you know? And so Eric and I would sit on one, and our parents the other. It was getting late, and they started to fall asleep. They were so cute, snuggled to each other, snoring a bit as they dozed off.
Eric didn’t miss a beat. He got closer under the blanket, and he let his fingers slide inside me. I was already wet. I was always wet. I was 20 and wild, it didn’t take much. His fingering had gotten so much better. He knew exactly how to please me. I felt him deep inside me. I wanted to moan so bad. But I couldn’t. And I think he enjoyed it. Knowing he was making me cum, but that I couldn’t do anything but sit and take it. I was too scared to make any kind of noise or motion. And he just kept going. His pace picked up.
He was thrusting his fingers inside me like a fucking jackhammer. I was so horny. I made a gesture, trying to tell him, “let’s go to the bedroom and finish it off”, but he gave me this stern look. He was in charge. Can you imagine that? I had crafted a monster. He was in charge, and he was going to make me cum on that couch. He kept going. A slow torture. Making me long for more. And then relentless thrusting. Giving in to my arousal. My body responded like a perfectly tuned instrument. I felt my breath quicken. My cheeks red. My hips trying to hold him in. But I was so powerless. I couldn’t do anything, anything but accept the pleasure he was giving me. And keep quiet.
And eventually it happened. I came. I had to bite my lip. I came in silence. My eyes closed. My teeth sunk into my lip. Colors and lights in my brain firing off like a Fourth of July. And then, you know what that little motherfucker did? He took his fingers out, checked that our parents were still asleep, and he sucked them off. He sucked my juices off his fingers and made a little gesture like a French chef savoring his latest creation.
Somehow, Eric was a never-ending surprise. He had a dominant freak streak, he knew to beat a drug dealer. I had written him off as a nerdy loser, but … I was wrong. And I was falling for him. It was all so easy, you know? As long as nobody found out, right? I thought it would be a fling. He’d go off to college or something, and I’d move on and make my own path in life. But, of course, life had its own plans.
I’m sure you guessed it by now, but our parents found out. We thought we were so careful. Except, this one night, my dad woke up for whatever reason. He walked by our room, heard something. Well, you know what he heard. I am not one of those porn girls that scream as soon as you look at them, but if you give me a good pounding, I will say something. And Eric had me doggie, and was giving me a pretty damn good pounding. He was slapping my ass, thrusting deep inside me. It would be rude not to moan and beg when you’re being loved that way, right? And so there I was, taking my stepbrother’s dick on all fours, like a fucking animal, and moaning his name and begging him to fuck me harder. And so my dad walks in. He looks at us. We look at him.
We knew then that life as we had known it, it was all over.
It was like 2 in the morning but we got stormed downstairs. “Get dressed right this minute, we need to talk”. Mom was there, dad was there. And we were there. In the defendant’s seat if you will.
What did we think we were doing?
Well, fucking, isn’t that obvious? I thought to reply like a smartass. That did not fly over well.
It was dirty, it was gross, it had to stop. Somehow it started shifting towards it being my fault. I had seduced him. My dad didn’t really defend me too much either. Which, you know, still stings.
And then Eric took the stage. He defended us. He defended me. If we had just met in school or something, there would be no issue with us dating. They were ashamed of it because they had married. But their marriage was their business, and our life was ours. We were not siblings, we were not doing anything illegal or immoral. We could have gone off and met at a bar, and it would be exactly the same. “You want to marry, that’s fine. But that is not our business. I am not leaving Sarah. Deal with it”.
He thought he could logic our way out of their icky feels. He was wrong.
So they kicked us out.
“We will not have your dirty incestuous sex under our roof. Pack your things and leave. You’re 20, you’re adults, go off into the world, go fuck somewhere else. Don’t call” they said. And we did. Idiots. For all we knew, we would have grown tired of each other the next week. But with that youthful defiance and stubbornness, we set off into the world. My trust’s allowances the only money we had. Two days later, we were out of the house. On a bus to Denver.
With our parents, it got better. We call. It’s different though now. It’s been 10 years. It’s clear that Eric and I will never be together that way. We love each other, mind you. More than words can say. But it would never work. I think if our parents had not kicked us out, we would have grown tired eventually. It would all have ended. But because of what we went through together, we are bonded for life. We are closer than most married couples ever will be. I know his soul in the deepest darkest of corners. And he knows mine. But we could not marry. Or even date. It is not who we are.
“What happened in Denver?” asked Mr. Furlong, interrupting my stream of consciousness.
“How about I tell you while I cook dinner? Follow me in the kitchen. Do you like burgers? I can make you one too”
“A burger is fine, yes Miss Jacobs, thank you”
“So, anyway” I continued, “we got to Denver and found a place to stay…”
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/rlkilw/stepcest_drugs_section_18_part_3