Caught

Author's Note: Standard disclaimer - all characters are over 18, etc. This story features "Cum eating" as a major theme. Don't read further if that's not something you want to read about. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy.

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Sun was pouring in through the open window and dry summer heat filled my bedroom. I blinked myself awake and scanned my barren bed. Rolling over, I found my blankets rumpled in a clump on the floor. I pressed my face into my pillow and rubbed the remaining sleep from my eyes. Then I adjusted myself to have another look around.

I was nude, and I didn't immediately remember how that had happened. I rubbed my eyes again and surveyed my body. Then, I looked at the white of my room which, in the early morning sunlight, felt sterile. It seemed so bright.

It had never bothered me before, but in this moment, I realized it did. My room needed more color, more character. Maybe the walls needed something extra, or maybe the trim--or the door, which I presently noticed was slightly ajar.

I glanced over myself one more time and tried again to remember how I had gotten this way. Then I looked back at the door. My breath held silent as I listened carefully. The house was quiet. Several long moments passed as I waited for some indication that I wasn't alone, but I heard nothing.

Rolling over in my bed, I turned to look out the open windows. Sounds, smells, light, and a soft breeze floated through my bedroom, no doubt thanks to the open door. All of a sudden it made sense; I remembered that I had left it open precisely to allow the breeze to flow through. I also now remembered stripping naked before getting into bed; the night had been unusually warm. It was all coming back to me.

Lying there, finally more awake than asleep, I drifted into thought about what my day would hold. I had no agenda; there was nothing in particular I had to do. And so I stared out the window and lazily played with myself. It wasn't deliberate; my hand just found itself there in need of something to fidget.

Five, ten, maybe even more minutes passed as I sort of diddled myself. I was only partially aroused; it wasn't a full effort in masturbation. I wasn't trying for it. I was just being lazy and relaxed, and it felt good to touch myself first thing in the morning. Given enough time, I probably would have gotten there, had it not been for the ensuing knock at my bedroom door.

The sound startled me such that I immediately rolled to address the interloper without, of course, considering my current circumstance. It all happened so quickly. There was my mother in the doorway. It took a brief moment, but I noticed where her eyes were fixed and realized the pressing need to cover myself.

With no other options immediately available, I grabbed one of my pillows and jammed it over my groin. Admittedly, it was nothing more than an attempt to signal modesty--or at least reclaim it--as she'd already garnered more than an eyeful of everything I had to offer.

My mother cleared her throat. "Brooke and I are going to the grocery. Any requests?"

I couldn't think of anything pressing, so I cleared my own throat in response. "No, I don't think so..."

"Right," she replied while glancing over my body and then around my room. "Would you like me to leave the door open? Or closed?"

"You can leave it open," I replied confidently. "I'll be up in a minute... I guess it doesn't really matter if everyone is out of the house."

My mother made a funny expression and nodded. Then, rather than leaving the door be, she gently pushed it so it swung fully open.

"Like that?" she said with a smile.

I rolled my eyes and shrugged.

Her smile grew as she turned and left my sight without another word.

I listened to her footsteps as she walked down the hall. Then I heard the steps creak as she descended to the ground floor. It was peculiar that I hadn't heard the approach; somehow she'd just appeared in my doorway. It was of no matter, though. It didn't bother me. In fact, it did quite the opposite.

I'll confess now that I have a rather horribly embarrassing perversion (among many). I fancy the idea of my mother seeing me--even catching me. I would never want anyone to know, but those moments (or the idea of those moments) excite me to no end. I often fantasize about situations like what just happened, though I don't actually want them to happen. It's strictly a fantasy.

But it doesn't matter; I still love the idea of it. In my mind's eye, she sees me at every opportunity. My favorite scenario is the idea of her seeing me play with myself. I've had fantasies about being supervised, being watched, being caught unexpectedly, and the thought of her walking in at just the moment of release. It's so sick and twisted, but these are some of my favorite thoughts to bring myself to orgasm.

Maybe she watches from the doorway as I work myself faster and faster, harder and harder, oblivious to anything and everything else. And then I pop and make a mess all over my tummy. It's not until the very last second that I realize she's even there. It's that second just as the rush hits, when it starts to fly, and there's nothing I can do about it. Seeing her seeing me and the reaction that follows... that's the moment I crave.

It's horrible and I hate that I love it. I have such shame even feeling it in secret. I don't particularly find my mother attractive, and I don't view her as a sexual option, though I'll admit that she is objectively pretty. It's definitely not something I want to explore in real life, and I would be devastated if anyone found out--especially her.

And yet here I am, after my mom caught me nude, at full attention and with toxic thoughts to encourage it. I mean, she did just see me at half-mast. I was practically spread-eagle and the foot of my bed does face the door. Curiosities about what she thought swirled through my mind. It made me wonder what a woman on the back half of her reproductive years might think to see a nude man sprawled across a bed in an obvious state of arousal--even if I am a young man and even if I am her son.

The solitude of an empty house called to me. And so, I did what any guy my age, under similar circumstances, would do. I started masturbating. And shamefully, I dug right into the fantasies of my mom.

Images of what I've already described frolicked in my imagination, bouncing from one to the next without context. I thought about her walking through the door. I thought about her instructing me. I thought about her acting shocked. I thought about the expression she might make when I ejaculate. Maybe she'd be surprised, or angry, or even amused. The more I thought about it, the more intense it got.

Then I got a great idea. I wanted to see myself from her perspective and thought I could use my full-length mirror to do it. Originally, I thought that I'd drag it near my bed so I could see what it would look like if she were standing at the door. But once I got to the mirror, I noticed the flattering way it was displaying my body.

And so I continued in front of the mirror while savoring my vanity. I'm not gay, but there's something about male anatomy in a state of arousal that turns me on--even if it is just my own. I repositioned the mirror so that all I could see was my body from the neck down. It was like I was watching some other guy, and somehow that made it that much more thrilling for me.

Between imagining my mother catching me and the sight of myself, I was in heaven and quickly approaching orgasm. I felt the familiar clenching and I accelerated my efforts.

I started shouting out things. I'm not even sure what. "Mom, mother..." I might have even dropped a "Mommy" as I verbally entertained my delusion, imagining and acting out what I might say to her and what she might say to me.

I grabbed onto the edge of the mirror and leaned into it, tilting it back a bit. Almost instantly, my climax raced through me. I watched myself through the mirror as my abs contracted and my body strained. My hips bucked as I erupted with satisfying force.

One, two, three gut-wrenching contractions launched my load and painted consecutive streaks up the glass surface of the mirror. I continued as the intensity waned and the flow reduced to milky goop that globbed thick droplets randomly across the reflective surface. With a firm grip, I squeezed and milked the remaining contents from the source. The last viscous blob hung with impressive tenacity, to the degree that I had to smear it across the glass to complete the transfer.

Hunched over, I admired my mess while I caught my breath and settled out. Strangely, my arousal refused to wane. It was a bit unusual, but I could still feel the energy of it pressing deep into my core. As I looked at myself, I realized I was actually still eager for more; still horny. Weird.

I thought for a moment about whether I had it in me to add to the mess I'd already made. Though still interested, I wasn't compelled. Rather, I found myself excited simply to admire my reflection. Something about the positioning and the light made my features better defined, almost chiseled. I liked seeing my vigor and the results of my efforts. I found it impressive.

My hands grasped the top corners of the mirror as I held still and studied my body. I leaned into it more and watched as the changing angles affected my reflection and the contrast against the white of the ceiling. Then I began to tilt it back and again watched the change until I realized something new in the reflection.

Brooke, my older sister--step-sister, really--was standing at the entrance of my room. We made eye contact through the mirror and I watched as she began subtly shaking her head.

"Ew," she uttered plainly.

My back was to her, but she could also see the reflection of my front. It wasn't like I could turn away. My erection was still a steel pipe and not something I could easily cover or even conceal. And there was nothing within arm's reach that could help. It felt like checkmate.

"Just ew, David!" she said again, but with more emphasis.

The irony was that I couldn't bring myself to face her and yet I already was. My hands continued to hold the top of the mirror as if I were bracing to be lashed--if only verbally.

"Mom?... Mommy???..." She repeated my words, saturated with her own mix of disgust, shock, and mockery. "Were you seriously just doing that while thinking about Mom?"

I closed my eyes and winced. I couldn't bring myself to acknowledge the possibility that she'd been there the whole time--that she'd witnessed everything. Denial was intuitively my best response, but I already knew it was pointless. All I could do was hang my head in shame.

"I'm going to tell her. She needs to know about this," I heard her say in a horribly matter-of-fact tone.

My eyes popped open and I immediately spun around to face her with my arms extended and my palms up. "No, no, no, no, no... don't do that! Please don't do that!" I begged pathetically.

She cringed and shuddered as her eyes zeroed in on my midsection. "How are you still like that?!?! Shouldn't that be going down by now?" she asked, seemingly rhetorically. "So gross... you don't do that thinking of me, too, do you???" She seemed disgusted.

"No!" My reply was reflexive, firm, and curt.

Her eyebrows raised and she stepped back. Her expression changed, and she crossed her arms and leaned against the doorjamb. "That was harsh... what is it?... am I not good enough for you?"

I was immediately confused. "No... no..."

Her expression signaled further aggravation. "No?!?!"

I tried to stop the train wreck. "No, that's not what I meant... just... don't... don't tell mom. Is she home? How are you back already?"

"I never left, dummy. And no, she's not home." Her arms were still firmly crossed as she eyed me up and down. "So, what the fuck is this? You wait until we're out of the house and have a jerk-off party?"

"No... come on... just... don't tell anybody," I pleaded.

"How badly do you want me to keep this a secret?" she asked with an expression of intent.

"Brooke... come on..." I was in trouble; she never missed an opportunity. My stomach dropped just knowing she was calculating possibilities to leverage me.

Her eyes darted around my room, glancing off this and that, until I noticed her briefly lock on the mirror that was presently at my five o'clock. Then her eyes glued to mine with a dramatic pause.

"How 'bout this..." she started before shifting her weight, "you lick the mirror clean and I'll keep this whole thing just between us."

Her expression was stone-cold as she made the offer. Not a hint of sarcasm or teasing was present. Arms still firmly crossed, she took a few steps into my room and toward me.

A look of horror must have washed over my face as I glanced back at the mess I'd just made. A cold realization struck me and my eyes found hers again. "You're just going to tell her anyway."

"Maybe, maybe not..." she walked closer to me and stared right into my soul. "But I'll promise you this... don't do it and I'm telling one hundred percent."

"Brooke..." I pleaded again.

"Bro..." she tapped my nose. "This is your one chance to show me how bad you want me to keep this quiet. And you really... REALLY... want me to keep this quiet." She added this just before flicking the tip of my dick.

I winced and glanced back at the semen that was starting to run down the mirror. Then I turned back to Brooke. She shrugged and moved over to my desk, seemingly to improve her vantage point.

She tapped the blank space on her wrist where a watch would otherwise be. "Clock is ticking and this offer isn't going to last. Better get started before I think of something worse."

I was still rock hard. Despite how disgusted I was at what she wanted me to do, it also played into another one of my fantasies for which I lacked the conviction to bring to life. In my own world of immersive mental perversions, being forced to eat my own essence was near the top of my list. And the thought of that quickly turned this moment of horror to one of private eroticism, though I dared not clue her in.

She leaned back against my desk and folded her arms again. "I'm waiting..."

I could feel my pulse quicken as a new surge of excitement coursed through my veins. I turned and kneeled down before the mirror. In the reflection, I could see Brooke intently watching me. We made eye contact one last time before I leaned into the task in front of me.

It was rather horrible. It was cold, slimy, and had a bland, salty-metallic taste. But despite that, it actually enhanced my arousal. My body involuntarily clenched at random times and I felt my erection bob as I licked. Although a lack of enthusiasm for the task and a general disgust prevented me from rushing the process, I wouldn't have wanted to hurry it in any way. I wanted to enjoy it.

I deliberately kept my eyes closed as I licked. In the back of my mind, I feared the thought of what eye contact with Brooke might signal. She would have instantly known something was amiss. My eyes would have betrayed my satisfaction in being subservient. I was naked and kneeling before her, my entirety clear to see, and I was obliging her direction at the expense of my dignity.

Nearly done, I desperately found myself fighting the urge to masturbate again. I couldn't have been more ashamed of myself for what I was doing and how bad I wanted to appease myself because of it. Even without self-stimulation, performing in subservience before my step-sister had me ready to pop again. Of all the sick and twisted ways to get turned on... I literally struggled to admit it to myself; I fucking hated myself for loving it so much.

When I finished, I stood and turned toward Brooke. Embarrassment flushed my skin; my chest, cheeks, and neck felt hot. Even touching nothing, I had to fight the urge to thrust into empty space. Heavy breaths escaped my lips while I waited for her to speak--to acknowledge me. But she took her time, as she seemed to study me and my work.

Finally, she looked me in the eyes again. "That was so gross... I can't believe you did that... and you did such a good job, too... I honestly was expecting to make you go back for more... hmm..." She seemed to think.

It was probably the most shameful backhanded compliment I'd ever heard. I had no verbal response, but I'm sure I turned another shade of red. I could feel the burn everywhere, and it couldn't have made me happier.

Brooke's gaze then dropped to my groin. "I still can't believe you're like that... ridiculous! It's like you enjoyed it more than I did." Her expression projected some combination of surprise and amusement.

"We had a deal..." I sputtered. "You're not going to tell anyone..."

She smiled. "A deal's a deal... but..."

A shiver raced up my spine. "But what? I did what you wanted!" My words were saturated with terror and satisfaction. Did I want her to keep it a secret? Yes. Did I want her to push me further? Also, yes.

"Yeah... well... you look like you're ready to go again and honestly--and I'm a little embarrassed to admit it to you--but... I want to see it again."

My pulse raced. Conflicting desires clashed as I watched Brooke scan my naked body. Minutes of silence seemed to pass as she stared at me.

"Brooke... I did what you wanted," I tried to sound calm and rational.

"Yeah... I know... and now I'm changing the agreement."

"You can't do that!" I objected, genuine panic in my voice.

"Wrong," she firmly retorted and waved her finger at me. "I can do whatever I want. You're the one with a secret to keep and I'm the one who decides if I'm going to keep it. Which means you do what I want or I tell Mom. That's the choice you have."

"But you're just going to keep changing the terms!" I countered. "I might as well go tell her myself!"

Brooke smiled. "If you do that, don't forget to tell her what you licked off the mirror... I'll be sure to mention that if you don't."

"Gladly..." I said. "It's better than having you hanging this over my head indefinitely."

Despite how much I liked Brooke dominating me like this, keeping my mom out of it was of the utmost importance. Despite being hot and horny, that objective was still at the forefront of my mind.

There was a glint in her eye, but she seemed to believe my bluff--or at least accept it. "Okay, Lil Bro... calm down a minute... you're right. A deal's a deal."

"Thank you!" I huffed.

Then she tapped her lips. "But there is one more thing I want you to do for me before we lock this into the vault..."

"Brooke!" I almost shouted in exasperation.

"Chill... I promise..." She hushed me. "I just want to see you do it one more time."

"No... it's gross licking it off the mirror," I objected.

She laughed. "That's the part that's gross for you?"

I glared at her.

"What if I offered you the opportunity to lick it off of me?" she said, biting her lip and giving me an impish grin.

I was a little taken aback. It was an exceedingly weird offer coming from her. Up until then, I'd never thought about her in a sexual context. Physically, she had all the right assets, and I'd certainly noticed on many occasions, but for some reason, she'd never appeared in my fantasy land. Maybe it was because she'd always been a bit of a bitch to me... but who knows. Regardless, in the moment I was incredibly horny and it actually seemed like an idea I wanted to explore.

"I can't tell if you're kidding," I said plainly.

She looked me dead in the eyes. "I'm not."

Her tone wasn't convincing, so I replied sarcastically, "Yeah... right..."

"I'm not," she said again, with subtle emphasis.

I paused and glared at her. The silence hung in the air.

"Fine... if you'd rather lick the mirror," she said with exasperation.

"Hold on..." I objected.

"Well?" She sounded impatient.

"So..." I verbally reasoned through my thoughts, "you're going to let me... what... finish... on you?"

Her eyebrows raised; she pressed her lips and nodded.

"Where?" I asked.

She glanced away in thought for a moment and then met my eyes again. "Anywhere you're willing to lick it off of me."

"Anywhere?" I was dubious that she actually meant it.

She nodded. "Anywhere that I can see you do it."

I thought for a moment and wondered if I should push my luck. My mind went into overdrive and I scanned her body for the most opportune place. There were boundless possibilities, but my mind settled on one in particular. I reasoned that somehow it would feel like payback, even if I did have to lick it off of her...

And so I posed the question.

She actually thought about it for a moment. "No... not there... actually... that would feel like kissing and I'm not kissing you."

It was fair, as it didn't sound appealing to me either when she put it that way. But that toxic thought immediately led to another one, which I blurted out before I had a chance to consider it.

"What about your other set of lips?" I asked foolishly.

Her eyebrows arched. "Seriously?"

Now I was biting my lip, looking away in thought. I didn't know what to think... would I actually do it?

She laughed. "You really are a perv! You might as well go all the way if you're interested in doing that."

She had to have been messing with me on that one, and although I agreed, I had to ask, "Kissing is out... but you'd be willing to...???"

She shrugged and laughed. "I can't explain that... but, yeah. I would... I mean, I want it, too... BUT... you have to lick me clean after."

I figured I'd just play along with the joke. "I could pull out."

She shook her head. "Nope... I want to be able to feed it back to you."

"Wait... what???" I paused. "You're just kidding, right?"

She looked disturbingly serious as she replied, "No."

I was shocked and struggling to process it. My arousal was so intense by this point that she could have talked me into anything. As gross as the idea seemed on the surface, I desperately craved what she was offering. It was something I'd fantasized about many times, though admittedly never with her involved.

She looked at me like I was an idiot. "So???"

"Uh... what about pregnancy?" I asked, logically trying to steer us back to safe territory, despite my desire to do the opposite.

"Ugh... harsh the vibe... I'm on the pill so you don't have to worry about that. What you do need to worry about is me squatting over your face after and making you take it back... any other options you want to explore? Want to ask about my back door, too?"

My filthy mind immediately imagined the satisfying nastiness of that option, but I curbed the thought before it could develop.

"Well, what about your stomach?" I asked.

She smirked. "As if you'd rather do that..."

I could feel my heart beating in my chest. In a brief instant, and for the first time, I noticed my conscience was being pulled in two opposing directions. All of a sudden I felt like we were crossing a line, which was ridiculous because I knew we were already so far past whatever had been previously established. That obfuscation was created by my sheer horniness and perverted fantasies. I was so aroused that practically anything would have sounded like a good idea. Here I was legitimately contemplating the deepest intimacy with my step-sister, whom I'd never longed for prior to this incident.

The pervert in me didn't care, though. I still wanted it bad, which was beyond physically obvious. It was almost like a two-to-one vote: my horniness combined with my fantastical perverted ideas had shackled any ability for my rational mind to be heard. Objections were nothing more than a faint echo in the back of my head--just present enough to be noticed, but still not enough to be acknowledged.

In hindsight, I think the reason rational thought broke through the barrier at all was because I was still a virgin. There was a fleeting moment when I considered the weight of losing it to her. However, the circumstances couldn't afford me a balanced perspective. While it seemed incestuous, it technically wasn't. While she played the role of my sister, she biologically wasn't. And when I looked at her through the lens of any other guy, it seemed like a great idea. I would have never imagined this was how I'd pop my cherry.

Brooke stepped close to me and clutched my erection. "I'm having doubts, too. And if you don't act soon, I'm just going to go to my room and take care of it myself."

Then she bit her lip and looked me dead in the eyes. "At least consider this... if we do this... we're in this together. It's not like I'm going to go run to tell Mom we fucked." She firmly released me and shrugged.

It was a twisted benefit and a horrible reason to proceed, but she was right. And the fact was, I did want to do it. Even if I wasn't thinking clearly, and even if it was with her, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that I figured I'd be a fool to pass up. I could see myself years in the future regretting not taking her up on the offer when I had the chance. I just had one last question.

"Why?" I asked simply.

She smiled and shrugged. Her eyes scanned my body one more time. "Truth is, you're kind of hot. And seeing you on your hands and knees... doing what I want... it's kind of sexy. I like the idea of owning you... and I want to see a heavy load slide out of me and down your open throat."

I swallowed hard.

She continued, "... The best way to make that happen right now is if you put one in me. Right? And who knows, you might surprise me and actually be good at it... At the end of the day, Lil Bro, I just want to see you choke down another one of your loads... and maybe humiliate you in the process." She winked at me. "I think that's hot."

Still a bitch, but I didn't care. "Okay," I said. "Let's do it."

"Really???" she questioned. "I'm serious, you have to lick it out of me after. Or I will literally tell Mom EVERYTHING. And I mean every detail."

"I can handle that," I said, trying to convince myself.

"Fine... go lie on your bed," she instructed.

I did as I was told and watched her strip down to her bra and panties. She moved to the side of the bed and looked me over one more time.

"I wonder how long you'll last..." she huffed. "I bet not long," she added with a smile.

Her thumb hooked her waistband and pushed her panties over her hips. I watched as they slowly drifted down her thighs. Then, without removing her bra, she climbed onto the bed and immediately straddled me.

Her knees flanked me as she hovered just inches above. She looked down and lowered herself until we made contact. As she began to move, she remained wordless, exploring her own rhythm.

"Ready?" she asked.

She didn't wait for a reply. Her body shifted up slightly and, suddenly, we found each other. She sank down and took me entirely, as if we were physically made for one another. The grip, the tension, the stress--it was better than anything I could have imagined. She held me there, gently and slowly riding as she pressed down through me.

I huffed, "Brooke... you feel incredible."

"Shhhhh," she hushed me. "You actually do, too... but don't talk. Please."

Our eyes locked and she continued her grind. Her mouth slackened, and I watched her chest start to heave with deeper, more deliberate breaths.

"You doing okay?" she asked.

I wasn't sure what exactly she was referring to; everything was great as far as I was concerned. I just nodded my head in response.

After a few more moments, she leaned down, licked my cheek, and huffed, "Listen..." her breath hot in my ear.

She continued to grind at this new angle for a minute or so, her labored breathing drowning out all other sounds. Then she lifted herself back to her original position.

"Listen..." she huffed again, "when you cum..." she took a breath. "I'm going to..." another breath. "To..." another breath.

Her eyes rolled back in her head and I felt her clamp down on me. Her breathing stilled and her face flushed. The grinding stopped and she pressed her pelvis hard into me, taking me as deep as we could go.

She came out of it with ragged breath and a slouched posture. With her hands on my chest, she steadied herself as she recovered from what I assumed was an orgasm.

"Wow, that was good..." she panted. "You didn't get there?"

I just shook my head. It was weird; she suddenly felt loose. Whatever momentum I had built was immediately lost.

"Open your mouth," she ordered, squeezing my cheeks with her hand to force compliance. Her cheeks drew in and a wad of spit collected at her lips. Then she slowly let it drop into my open mouth. It was disgusting and delicious at the same time.

"Can you keep going?" she asked kindly.

"I think so," I replied.

"Can I keep riding?" she confirmed.

I nodded.

At this point, she was grinding slow and shallow, using micro-movements this way and that. It felt more like she was settling in again, all while staring wildly into my eyes. Like magic, she started tightening up, and once it started, she bounced back fast and firm.

"As I was saying before..." she started to huff again. "When you get there..."

She bit her lip and ground into me. Starting to pant, she said, "I'm going to straddle your face... it's going to be like this..."

She grabbed my cheeks and forced my mouth open again, then dropped another slow wad of spit into my mouth. She smiled in satisfaction.

She slowed the pace and leaned back, pushing me to a new depth. "Think you can handle that?" she asked, smiling.

I didn't know, but I was ready to find out. I saw her differently in that moment and it was a little weird... weirder than it already was. She was sexy--really sexy. I realized that I was legitimately attracted to her.

Her lean, athletic torso rose above me. Her chest was cupped by a clean white bra with subtle lacy accents around the perimeter. Her blonde hair was tousled and cascaded over her shoulders. She smelled amazing. She was smiling at me, and we were sharing a genuine connection through this extremely unconventional union.

Brooke's lips pursed and her eyes closed. The grinding became more deliberate and focused. The sensation of being inside her was so much different than what I would experience on my own. It was like I was being milked, like she was trying to extract my life force. Nothing I'd experienced up until this point would have made me guess how good this felt.

She leaned over me. "Are you getting close?"

I could feel it all the way up through my belly button. "Yeah, I think so."

She smiled. "Me too."

After her last orgasm, I knew what to expect. She was tightening her hold on me and this time she was bringing me along for the ride. I found myself reflexively thrusting back into her as she ground down on me.

The tingling in my belly became almost painful and started migrating through my body. Energy began to consolidate and contractions became involuntary.

Brooke was bearing down on me, staring me in the eyes, and slightly drooling. Here and there her eyes would roll back and wash out, then a deep breath would bring them back. She'd lick her lips and collect her spit, and I'd watch her throat as she swallowed.

I didn't know when I started doing it, but my hands were locked to her hips. Our movements were completely synchronized; each thrust had us bottoming out against each other. Then, all of a sudden, it happened.

My orgasm ripped through me. It caught me off guard, as if tension had snapped. My glutes--my whole body, really--started quickly and violently thrusting into her. My hands gripped firm and pulled her tight to me. I buried myself as far as I could possibly go as the waves blasted up inside of her. It was the most potent release of my life. Even after my orgasm from earlier, I could still feel gobs of my fluids pumping, as if they were being sucked from me.

She could feel it too. "Yessss..." she hissed, digging her nails into my chest and pressing her hips firmly into mine. Her eyes rolled back and I could feel her contract around me.

Then I felt her fingers in my hair and her grip firmed at the top of my scalp. Her eyes rolled open and locked with mine. A wicked smile danced across her face.

Next thing I knew, she lifted herself off of me and in one brisk movement pivoted so her thighs were flanking my head. Near instantly, I was looking up at the entrance to her vagina and the formation of my pearly spunk that was ready to drop.

From deep in her tunnel, the milky fluid came forth such that the opening, which had been briefly agape, was no longer so. The cream amassed quickly to the size of a very large marble while it continued to cling to the folds of her vulva. I felt one hand grip my scalp while I watched her other hand press into her lower belly.

"Open your mouth," she said kindly through ragged breaths.

I did as I was told. Together we watched, from opposite perspectives, as that massive glob of our collective fluids drooped and slowly dripped into my open mouth. It drew out like a string and landed at the back of my tongue. I immediately tried to swallow the heavy mass, but it was so thick I could barely get it down. My esophagus was coated in a thick stickiness, and there was still more coming. She groaned as she watched me choke on the load.

"Suck it," she said, lowering her sopping groin to my face. Our lips connected as she ground down on my mouth. Our fluids coated my face and I could feel more of that sticky combination of semen and girl cum fill my mouth.

"Lick me clean, and I'll let you up," I barely heard her say.

My tongue probed and lapped. As gross as it was, I found it incredibly satisfying. It occurred to me while I was licking her that I wouldn't have done it had she given me a moment to think about it, but since she transitioned immediately from orgasm, it worked. The initial nastiness passed quickly and I found a unique satisfaction in choking down my cum and having my mouth pressed to her. In fact, it was turning me on again.

I ran my tongue up and down the smooth folds of her anatomy. Her aroma was clean and fresh aside from the distinct smell of sex. I probed everywhere I could reach. Everything from her clit back was perfectly smooth and hairless; how she accomplished that was an immediate mystery. It left me so curious that I even slid my tongue back along her anus, at least as far as she'd let me go. It was perfect, too.

She really seemed to enjoy it. She was a different person now--someone who I could connect with, if only in this way.

What I found really surprising was what happened after she let me go. Smiling and without saying a word, she lowered herself to my groin and sucked me into her mouth. She lapped and sucked repeatedly, capturing everything that was there to get. By the time she was done, I was expertly clean.

"You clean me, I clean you," she said with a wicked grin. She licked her finger and continued, "Seems only fair since you get the harder job."

There was probably some truth to it, but her attention left me nearly hard again.

She gently flicked my recharged stiffness. "Yeah... Mom's going to be home soon, so you're going to have to do what you will about that. I'm done for now."

"What do you mean for now?" I asked.

"You fuck good, Bro," she said. "As long as you're willing to clean me up after, I think this could be a regular thing."

She had already put her underwear back on and was pulling up her sweatpants.

"Also..." she continued, "your secret about 'Mommy' is safe with me, but I think it's something you should eventually talk to me about... you know... because I want to know why you're thinking about Mom like that."

She put her shirt on and slipped out of my bedroom without another word, leaving me lying almost identically to how I had started my day. And so I stared out the window again until I drifted off to sleep.

----------------------

A knock at my door woke me some time later... it was my mom again.

"What the... Again!?!?" My mom's words were exasperated.

I reached for my pillow.

"Don't bother," she said, waving her arms. "I'll pretend I saw absolutely nothing... Just... come downstairs whenever you're ready."

She spun and marched back down the hall. I heard her call back from somewhere down the way...

"Preferably dressed!"