CHAPTER EIGHT
Trent
Six months later …
If I were Vincent Martin, I would kill me. That’s not even a joke. I would get out a shot gun, and maybe do a couple rounds through my heart. Or no, that’s too fast and painless. Maybe roping me to his bumper would be better, before dragging me through the streets until I died from trauma and internal injuries. Because I deserve it. Not just the pain, but also the public humiliation.
After all, what I’ve done to that man and his wife is unbelievable. They took me in when I had no one. They fed me and clothed me, and permitted me to continue high school while living in their home. And what did I do? I seduced their innocent, teenage daughter. I snuck down to her bedroom almost every frickin’ night and made love to the girl, coming again and again in her steaming depths.
So yeah, I deserve to be hog-tied and lynched. I deserve to die a bloody, gruesome death, only to be condemned to hell afterwards. Because it’s not like Janie and I stopped fucking after the revelation at graduation. Sure, we were now siblings, but that didn’t even put a dent in our plans. If anything, the pace of our loving grew even more intense, our souls merging as our hearts melded.
Because the gorgeous girl is everything to me. After that fateful day, we knew we had one summer together before going our separate ways. So we began fucking like rabbits, my cream pouring into her holes backwards, forwards, and just about 24/7.
“Yes, right there,” she’d pant while her mother was cooking dinner downstairs. “Put it there, Trent, ohhhhh!” was her delighted moan.
Or there was the time in the pool as her parents innocently read the newspaper indoors. We were partially hidden behind a curve of the concrete, but still. I was dicking their daughter as the waves lapped, jizzing my sperm into her secret spot as those large breasts bobbled in the water.
But the thing is that I have no regrets because I adore the woman. Janie’s funny and beautiful, and keeps me on my toes in the most unexpected ways. She’s a mix of nerdy good-girl along with seductive temptress, and I’m completely under her spell. Whatever she wants is whatever she gets, and I’m just going along for the ride more or less now.
“Trent,” Janie said one day over the summer as we lazed by the pool. My girl was a sight to see, those creamy curves covered by only the tiniest bikini. The beautiful brunette is so much more comfortable with her plus-size body now, and I love it when she’s sassy.
“Hmm, sweetheart?” I growled quietly, shading my eyes. Calling the girl endearments is something that comes naturally, but we have to be careful when her parents might be around.
“Well, I was just wondering what happened with that frog dissection,” she said, quirking her head at me. “You never did the project, did you? You were excused from it because of Bob and Karen’s passing, right?”
I nod, blue eyes sharp.
“Yeah, they let me just do some other stuff to make up for it,” are my words. “Why? Do you miss the frogs? I know you want to be a vet.”
“No, that’s not it,” she says playfully, shooting me a coy smile. “Well, sort of. Maybe a little. It’s just that I thought it was such a great project,” she says lightly. “You know, getting to know anatomy inside out and all that. Frogs aren’t so different from humans you know.”
Honestly, this was gross but I went with it because I know the girl had something up her sleeve.
“Why, what are you saying?” is my casual reply, shading my eyes to stare at that curvy form more closely. Of course, her nipples are already beginning to pebble beneath the nylon fabric, those big boobs oozing out from either side. God, how I want to taste her.
“Well, you missed the dissection,” she says with a mock frown again. “But what I learned is that frogs actually harden a bit when they’re aroused. Did you know that? The female has a gland that enlarges when she hears the males’ mating call. It triggers some kind of hormone surge,” she says, like she’s giving a lecture.
Oh shit, it’s coming and I know it. My dick’s already stiff as a flagpole and I can’t wait for what’s around the corner.
“Why, are you aroused?” are my smooth words. “Show me, pretty baby. What are those hormones doing to you?”
And Janie doesn’t even hesitate. She casts a quick glance to the living room window to make sure her parents aren’t lurking somewhere close by and then reaches down to the crotch of her swim bottoms and coyly pulls them to the side with her index finger.
“See?” she mewls, spreading her folds to show me those glistening pink insides. “See how much I need it? I even have a bunch of hormones leaking from me right now,” she says playfully, indicating the drip of white that’s seeping from her small hole.
Of course, her clit’s hard as a rock, standing to salute and begging for a kiss. But the pearl of goo at her entrance isn’t just pussy cum. That’s the remainder of my spunk from this morning, from when I shot two loads as she squealed and moaned helplessly beneath my big body. And sure enough, the girl double downs then. Janie draws her knees up so that her bottom rolls upwards, baring that beautiful, steamy brownie.
“See Trent?” she mewls, those caramel eyes wide and innocent although her position is fucking obscene. “I even have hormones dripping from my bottom.” Because fuck yeah, we did some hard anal as well and I sprayed my third deposit into her anus, those pleats gripping and spasming around my huge shaft.
“Oh shit baby,” is my low murmur. “Fuck fuck fuck.”
Because there’s nothing we can do at the moment. The growl of her parents’ car sounds in the driveway, along with the mechanical clanging of the garage door going up. Goddamnit! If we had more time, I’d be kissing her in her two spots while licking up my own cream pies.
Because that’s what Janie’s done to me. I was always a donkey, ready to bray at any pretty girl’s window. But now, I’m a beast and the urge is about ten times stronger. Going to different colleges hasn’t changed a thing. If anything, we make excuses all the time to visit one another, coupling hard, hot and heavy in our dorm rooms. As an athlete, I have a single so most of the time, we meet at my place since there’s more privacy. Not that we care about my neighbors, given how the constant moaning goes full blast.
So yeah, despite being adoptive brother and sister, nothing has changed. Over the past six months, I’ve only fallen harder for her, what with Janie’s dedication to academics coupled with that deliciously curvy body. Plus, it’s more than just the sex. At this point, I could have easily given her the boot what with the excuses of being long distance, and the packed schedule of school and practice. And yet I haven’t. Any other woman would have been toast. But Janie is my nirvana, and if anything, I only want more of the gorgeous girl.
So come Christmas time, I pull my car into the Martins’ drive before bringing it to a stop. Bounding out with my arms full of gifts, I leap up onto the porch and fumble in my pocket for the key. Perfect. In fact, the door’s not even locked.
“Anyone home?” I call genially into the interior. The smell of baked ham and pumpkin pie wafts towards me, making my stomach growl.
“Come in sweetheart!” trills Elaine from the kitchen. “You’re just in time. Christmas lunch will be on the table in about twenty. Can you please ask your sister to come downstairs to help set the table? It’ll be our first time spending the holidays together as a family and I can’t wait,” she burbles while popping her head out from behind the wall. Elaine’s gray hair is curled and styled in a funny old-lady way. But it’s endearing and I stride over to give the plump woman a hug before nodding.
“Sure, I’ll get her,” is my low growl. “No prob, Mom.”
“You’re too wonderful, Trent,” the elderly lady beams. “Now go call your sister. We all pitch in in this household,” she adds firmly.
I start turning towards the guest room before remembering that Janie’s real room is actually on the second floor. That’s right. I took over her childhood bedroom all those months ago, only to slide in between her sheets each night for a round of hot loving. Shit. Gotta get this straight.
So bounding upstairs, I knock on her door.
“Janie?” I call. “Can I come in? Lunch is almost ready. You wanna set the table? I’ll help,” I offer. There. That should sound brotherly and innocent.
There’s silence for a moment before her voice sounds.
“Sure, be right down,” is that wavery voice. “Just give me a minute.”
But I can tell that something’s wrong, so slowly, I push open the slab to reveal the curvy brunette sitting on her bed, hands gripping each other. We’re so attuned to each other now that I can sense her moods simply through vibes. There’s something about the rigidness of her shoulders and the erect position of her spine that tell me that things are off. Even her curls look different, like they’ve been deflated somehow.
“What is it?” I ask in a low voice, moving to sit next to her on the bed while taking one hand. “What’s going on, sweetheart?”
She starts for a moment, seeing nothing. But then those brown eyes swing my way, dazed and a little fearful.
“Trent,” the girl breathes. “I’m pregnant. We’re pregnant.”
Boom! Kapow! Bang! It’s like a stroke of lightning’s flashed through the clouds, lighting up the room. I squeeze her hand in my big ones, eyes filled with emotion.
“Well, we’ve never used protection,” I say in a low voice. “And you’re fertile and young, sweetheart, so I guess it was bound to happen.”
She nods slightly, still staring straight ahead.
“I know,” is her broken whisper. “But I just don’t know what to do. I mean … should we tell Vincent and Elaine?” she asks. “What happens when people find out? We’re brother and sister, Trent,” she says brokenly. “There are gonna be so many rumors.”
I nod firmly.
“Adopted brother and sister,” I correct, holding her hand within the protective cocoon of mine. “And everyone knows that, so don’t be scared. But let’s take this one step at a time. Don’t you think that our actions speak volumes? About the fact that we never used protection? Never even talked about it sweetheart?”
She turns wide eyes to me again, and I can see they’re filled with tears. Oh shit. What if she doesn’t want the child?
“But Trent,” she mewls. “I just … I don’t know why we didn’t talk about it,” are her unsteady words. “I guess it just felt so good, and the sex was spontaneous all the time.”
I shake my head slowly.
“No sweetheart, it wasn’t spontaneous. I mean, yes, it was. The electricity between us can fire up in an instant, going from zero to sixty in two seconds flat. But all those times I crept down to your room? That wasn’t spontaneous. I knew what I was doing. All those times you visited me at my college, or I visited you at yours? That wasn’t spontaneous. We knew that some hot loving was on the menu, and never bothered to use protection.”
But Janie can’t absorb it yet. The discovery is still too new and sudden, and she shakes her head, unable to process the hard fact that she’s pregnant. She lets out a huge exhale before turning wide, tear-filled eyes to me once more.
“Trent what are going to do?” she asks, choking a bit as sorrow overcomes her. “I don’t know where to go with this.”
It’s a good question because although Janie may be lost, I’m not. I know exactly what I want, and this is the culmination of my dreams. I want Janie, fertile and round, growing with my child. I want to suckle at her breasts, knowing that milk will soon spring from her teats. I want to lick at the cleft between her thighs to provide ease and comfort when she’s heavily pregnant. I want to fuck her with my dick bumping up against our baby’s head, the ultimate affirmation of my virility.
Because living with the Martins changed my perspective on family life. My parents were monsters. They didn’t give a shit about me. It wasn’t so much outright abuse as just complete neglect. Once our front door closed, the alcohol started flowing and I was free to come and go, live or die as I pleased. Another teen would have been ecstatic to have so much freedom. But when this has been going on since you were six or seven, it’s not cool anymore. I’ve packed my own lunches since second grade, and started doing the household’s laundry in third.
So yeah, I was pissed. Even more so because no one knew. All my parents cared about was appearances, and they were clever about hiding the problems. For example, most people carry their recycling out with the garbage, sorting it carefully into plastics versus paper. But Karen and Bob were stealthy. They actually excavated a secret landfill in our backyard, where the two of them threw their empty vodka bottles and crushed cans of beer. They didn’t want even the garbage man to know of their addiction, so we literally had our own dump hidden behind the magnolias. Fuck.
So yeah, I’m pissed. I’m through with the drinking from sunset to sunrise. I’m through with people who don’t give a shit about others. I’m through with keeping up appearances. Because as long as Karen and Bob had the perfect life on the outside with a handsome, athletic son, it didn’t matter what happened behind closed doors.
But that’s where the Martins come in. Living with them has been a blessing because it broke me out of my hardened, cynical shell. I had a chance to move in with a real family, and see how real families treat one another. How Vincent and Elaine are truly in love, even after twenty years of being married. How it doesn’t matter what other people say about you. Instead, it’s about how well you treat your spouse in a constant series of small, loving gestures. The Mercedes in the driveway with a big, red bow? That was my dad’s gift to my mom, both Bob and Karen flushed with excitement because they knew the neighbors could see. By contrast, the Martins would never do anything like that because it’s not what matters to them. They know that what counts are the small hugs, the secret smiles, and the love that’s almost tangible in their household.
And that’s their biggest gift to me, and what I want to share with Janie. She’s been laboring under the illusion that I was distraught over my parents’ death, and to some extent, I was. After all, Karen and Bob provided a roof over my head, if nothing else. But the true miracle happened when I moved in with her family, and as a result, my world view has completely changed. Before, I never wanted kids. I never wanted to get married. My focus was on achievement and things. Showing off to the world what I had and other people didn’t.
But now, it’s all been upended. Vincent and Elaine have helped me see the world with different eyes, and I’m not so cynical anymore. Instead, I too, want a rock-steady home life with a cute, curvy girl who has solid values. I don’t care about cars and houses and shit. I want a woman that I can treat well, and who will treat me well in return. Someone with a sweetness to her demeanor, who’s sharp as a whip but also playful and fun. And I believe that woman is Janie, hands down. So yes, I’ve never used protection when we had sex. Never even brought it up because somehow, in the back of my mind, I knew that this was what I wanted. To make a baby and a home with my beautiful brunette.
And now it was time to tell her the truth about the pent-up feelings I have inside. I take those small hands in mine before looking deep into that caramel gaze.
“Sweetheart, you know I love you,” are my slow words, squeezing her palms tight. “You mean the world to me, and I tell you that every time we’re together.”
She nods, but can’t meet my eyes, bottom lip trembling.
“Yes Trent, but still. We’re having a baby,” she says on a whisper. “What do we do? Everyone’s going to hate us. There’s gonna be so much gossip and maybe I’ll be forced to drop out of school. Or maybe … I don’t know,” she says miserably.
I squeeze her hands again, my gaze rock steady.
“It doesn’t matter what other people say,” is my even tone. “Trust me, I know.”
But Janie’s not hearing my words because she shakes her head miserably, chin quivering. And to my horror, a tear courses down on cheek as a dagger stabs my heart. Holy shit. She shouldn’t feel terrible like this, and it takes everyting in me not to cover her with kisses as we sit there.
But the thing is that there are important words to be said, and this is the time to say them. So I turn her face to mine with a gentle hand, looking deep into those caramel eyes.
“Like I said sweetheart, it doesn’t matter what other people think. Trust me. What matters is how you and I feel about our life together, and sweetheart, I’m over the moon that you’re pregnant. To me, it’s a miracle that our son or daughter is growing inside you at this very moment.”
She blinks slowly, a tear trembling on the edge of one lash.
“I’m sorry?” comes that sweet whisper. “You’re happy that I’m pregnant?”
I squeeze her hands again, but my blue gaze is sharp and bright.
“That’s right, honey,” comes my low rumble again. “This is exactly what I want. A home with you, me and you raising this child together, and maybe even having another one if we’re not overwhelmed. That is, if you want it too,” I throw in slowly. “Do you sweetheart? Is this picture I’m painting something that sounds good to you?”
Janie’s staring at me now like I’ve gone berserk.
“Trent,” she says slowly. “You can’t be serious.”
I look right back at her.
“Why not?”
“Why not?” she sputters, pulling back for a moment. “Because we’re related! We’re adopted brother and sister, and we have the same parents! Everyone knows that. They’re gonna be so much talk and the entire community will be scandalized.”
I nod, although my gaze is a humorous.
“You’re talking like we’re about to be branded with a scarlet letter,” I say dryly, “before being paraded through the town while people hurl eggs our way.”
Janie stares at me again.
“Trent, this isn’t funny,” she huffs. “I’m serious. We’re talking about serious things here.”
Immediately, I’m contrite and gather her hands again.
“Of course, sweetheart,” is my semi-apologetic tone. “Didn’t mean to make light of an important issue. It’s just that you getting pregnant really is something that I’ve wanted for a long time, and I thought you should know. I want to have a baby with you, sweetheart, and it would make me so happy if you wanted the same thing too.”
Janie’s dumbstruck now at the bombs I’ve dropped.
“Wait a minute,” she says slowly. “You wanted this to happen? Us forgetting to use protection wasn’t “forgetting” at all? You planned this?”
I shrug a little.
“Not planned, no not exactly. But I knew that the chances were good, what with you being a fertile eighteen year-old girl. And we were having sex all the time, so it was more likely than not to happen. So I didn’t plan it exactly, but the ground was definitely laid for Mother Nature to have her way.”
These words are totally reasonable, but Janie just stares at me, hard.
“I think you’re crazy Trent,” she says in a slow voice. “This is a disaster, you know. We can’t be pregnant because we have our whole lives ahead of us. Two teens raising a baby together when we’re just babies ourselves? It’s sheer lunacy.”
The words make me see red, but I keep my composure. After all, Janie’s reaction is understandable. She’s scared. She’s frightened. She’s been responsible her whole life, and now is no exception. But at the same time, I want the female to see my point of view so I decide to address her statement one point at a time.
“First honey, this is not a disaster. Again, the pregnancy is something that I want. Sure, it was somewhat unexpected, but you know, sometimes the best things happen through sheer chance. Second, yes, you and I are technically teens. But we’re not people without means. In fact, I’ll be inheriting the Lewis estate in about two years, and let me tell you, Karen and Bob were worth a good seven figures. So by the time the baby is born, we should have plenty.”
But I’m not done yet because the most important part is coming.
“And last,” I say, my eyes suddenly becoming intense. “I’m not a child anymore, nor are you. You’re smart, funny, and beautiful, Janie. I’ve never met a girl who’s more with it than you. In fact, you’re more with it than a lot of adults, frankly,” I say in a dry tone. “Because I wanted to tell you about my family. They were a bunch of drunks,” is my blunt statement, “and I’m glad Karen and Bob are dead.”
If my previous words were like bombs, then this was a nuclear explosion.
“I’m sorry?” asks Janie, scrunching her nose while shooting me a disbelieving look. “Trent, you’re saying all these things that don’t make sense. What in the world?”
But I’m dead serious and I take that small palm in mine once more.
“No sweetheart, I mean it,” come the low words. “Karen and Bob were alcoholics of the worst sort. No one knew because they were smart. They were functioning drunks who never missed a day of work and performed at a high level to boot. They were careful never to let on, and Karen always had her hair and nails done, while Bob never let himself get a potbelly. But trust me, behind closed doors it was completely different. You wouldn’t believe it unless you saw.”
Janie’s now gaping at me now.
“Your parents were alcoholics?” she asks disbelievingly. “Really? But they were both so put together, and your mom was so nice whenever I talked to her.”
I shrug.
“And she brought brownies to the booster meetings every week too, right? But that’s the thing. Appearances deceive honey, and my parents were the masters of deceit. Like I said, they knew exactly how to appear prosperous, friendly, and normal. There was never a bill that went unpaid. If you needed help shoveling snow from your sidewalk, then Bob was the first to offer. But trust me, on the inside, they were total wrecks.”
But my girl just can’t believe it, her eyes wide and disbelieving. So I pull out the big guns then. Whipping my phone from my pocket, I flip to my camera roll and start scrolling to a folder that I’ve labeled “Home.” These were never supposed to be seen. I only took them because I was so disgusted that the compulsion was too strong. But now, the time has come to reveal the truth to a woman who means everything to me.
“See for yourself,” I say in an even tone, handing my phone over to Janie. “This was the extent of their depravity.”
And the brunette gasps as she starts scrolling through the photos because on the first floor, our house was immaculate. Any place that visitors might wander was done up like a spread for an interior design magazine. But upstairs? The private quarters were a sty with clothes thrown all over the place, empty pizza boxes stacked high, and most tellingly, empty bottles everywhere. Beer cans stacked in the corners. An empty Coors on the bathroom counter, sitting next to the mouth wash. Not only that, but some of the pictures show furniture that’s toppled, my parents lazing around like the drunks they were.
Because that’s actually the damning part of these photos. Karen and Bob are in them, either passed out or drunk off their asses. Oh yeah, there’s my mom with her mouth open and a long string of drool trailing to the floor. Her perfect hair doesn’t look so perfect anymore since she’s got her head smashed against a sofa cushion in her study. Oh, and there’s Bob face down in the reading room with a pool of vomit next to him. His hair’s sticky and clumpy, and do you see that dark stain on the carpet? That’s from the vomit that we cleaned up last week. Guess we’ll have to do it again.
So yeah, the second floor of the house was completely trashed, and this was my evidence. Clearly, the Lewises had problems because this wasn’t one party gone off the rails. The sad state of the house showed that in fact, this had been going on for years, if not decades.
Slowly, Janie lowers the phone, her face white.
“Is this for real, Trent?” she asks in a whisper, turning shocked eyes my way. “Your mom and dad were alcoholics.”
I nod curtly.
“Believe it,” are my terse words. “For as long as I can remember too. Going back to maybe second or third grade.”
Janie’s mouth opens once more before snapping shut.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, taking my hand in hers. “This is just … I don’t even know what to say.”
But that’s the opening that I’ve been waiting for.
“Janie,” I speak, my voice suddenly urgent. “I’ve just bared my soul to you, along with my horrific past and the secrets that haunted my family. But that’s the thing. None of it matters. They’re gone now, and even more, I learned what really matters from living with your parents these last couple months. It doesn’t matter how things look on the outside. It doesn’t matter if you live in a big mansion with multiple luxury cars. What matters is what’s going on on the inside, and that’s what you have in spades. You are the culmination of my dreams, sweetheart. You’re a girl with solid values and a good heart, and that’s what I want. No, it’s what I need. I used to be against having a family. I never wanted kids because how could I raise children with a fucked-up background like mine? But with you, sweetheart, all that’s changed. With you, anything’s possible and I want it,” is my fierce declaration, gripping her hand tight. “I want all that with you.”
Janie’s listening although I’m not sure what the girl’s thinking. She takes it all in carefully, breathing lightly, before opening her mouth.
“So you’re saying that despite what’s happened to you, you think that together, we can make things work?” she asks, turning my way. “That together, things will be different?”
And I almost laugh then because this is what I love most about my girl. She’s able to sum up my long-winded declarations in about two sentences, and nail it on the head to boot. So I squeeze her hand again, and utter the most important words I’ve ever said.
“That’s right, sweetheart. I love you, and together, we can own the world together.”
For a moment, I’m afraid she’s going to reject me. Or even worse, she’ll laugh because let’s face it. I’m a nineteen year-old guy who’s speaking like a prince from a fairy tale what with the high-falutin’ language and heartfelt promises. But the words are true because I’m baring my heart, and even if the sentences sound a little cheesy, I mean every syllable.
But Janie doesn’t laugh, nor does she turn away. Instead, the beautiful brunette smiles at me and to my horror, her eyes begin to glisten. But this time, they’re tears of happiness.
“That’s what I want too, Trent,” she says on a whisper. “I want to be with you. I want to raise our baby together, and you’re right,” she says with a long, drawn-out exhale. “It doesn’t matter what other people think because what’s important is how we feel about each other, and how we treat one another. I’m so sorry about your past, Trent, but at the same time, I’m happy? Because we can be together now.”
And with that, I’m on her. My mouth seeks that precious pout like a heat-seeking missile, and oh fuck, but she’s delicious. Giving and moist, and mewling in my arms within moments. But it’s more than just the physical chemistry now. For the first time, we’ve spoken the words inscribed on our hearts, and the loving is more true, pure and honest, as it will be from here on out.
“Promise me,” I say, pulling back for a moment so that our foreheads rest lightly against one another. “Promise me that you’ll marry me when the time comes.”
Janie blushes beautifully, but she nods shyly.
“I will Trent. And promise me that you’ll be my wedded husband when the time comes as well. Because I want to be with you,” she whispers shyly. “You are my everything.”
And with that, our souls are joined as one. It doesn’t matter that the vows were said as we sat on a narrow twin bed in her childhood bedroom. It doesn’t matter that there were no witnesses or officiants. What matters is that we love each other, and that inside, our motives and emotions are true and pure. Because despite the fact that we are adoptive brother and sister … our relationship will endure because of the strength of our love and commitment.