Chapter THIRTEEN
Scherri
I need him more than I need to breathe. Stick's perfectly huge prick filling me in every cranny is the most divine sensation. It is actually hard to draw breathe as every cell quivers with delight of my channel being stretched by his width. I can barely move but my body takes over, pounding back on his every thrust, driving him deeper, harder. I feel my own juices running down my thighs and coating his massive length.
I need it. I want it. The craving for more of Stick is like the worst addiction. I can't stop.
“Fuck me,” I rasp, as he does just that, jerking into me deeper, his hands pulling me open. spreading me wider apart.
He lets out a low, muffled groan of lust as he parts my crevasse. I'm a little embarrassed at being on my hands and knees, with Stick standing behind me watching his cock ram into my pussy. My rear hole is completely bared for him. Then when he moves his thumb pad into my crack to rub slowly around that tautly constricted entrance, I feel every muscle clench up. No one has ever touched me there. Not right there and it feels wrong. Except it also feels delicious and every nerve ending is standing up for more.
“Relax baby.” Stick tells me and my body instantly complies with what he says.
I know Stick will only do what feels good to me. I can trust him with that totally and I want whatever he wants. My body is also making it clear that new sensations are more than welcome. My pussy is dripping all down my thighs with eager lust. I let go to my pleasure and my yearning for Stick and ride his dick while he massages my rear. His other hand fists the flesh of my butt cheek until it throbs with divine pain that only increases my raving need.
I moan out a raw sound, something I've never heard emerge from my lips. My orgasm is beginning to build. Ready to hurl me over the edge into huge shudders of scrumptious release. My toes start to curl as shivers run up my thighs and pool in my core.
Almost.
I'm panting with the closeness of my climax. Desperate for it and at the same time, not wanting this to end. Ever. My fingers claw at the sheets, fisting balls of fabric.
“Shhh,” Stick grits out.
His voice as raw and animalistic as mine. I can tell he's close. But he also doesn't want this to be over. He periodically stops all movement, his entire length filling me. Then he grinds circles with his head against the end of my pussy, relishing how deep he is into my body and wanting to go further even though his root rubs at my lips.
“I need to come,” I whisper, right as a voice bats into my release.
“Scheherazade, have you gone to bed already?”
Shit.
My mother is at the bottom of the stairs, calling up to me. My orgasm rushes back down my legs and Stick slides his gorgeous wide cock out of me, leaving me empty and unsatisfied. I let out a mewl of frustrated irritation as Stick helps me up off the bed and fixes my clothes.
She won't come up here, right? I'm sure she won't.
At least I think I'm sure, because of course, I've never been with her here in this house. This room. And she's being so weird at the moment, like she suspects something's happening between Stick and I. I wouldn't be surprised if she installed friggin' cameras to monitor my every move.
I look at Stick and can feel my face is stricken with anxiety, which is ridiculous but still I can't help it. I feel guilty at what we're doing.
“Scheherazade, I know you aren't asleep,” she calls out again. At least she's still down in the second floor passage and not appearing in my room. “I heard noises as I came down the hall so stop pretending.”
“She's here,” Stick shouts back and my eyes pop wide at him. Why didn't he keep quiet?
“What are you doing in your sister's room, Harden?”
Ouch. I can't help but wince at that word.
Stick feels like a brother to me, he always has. But only in terms of how inseparable we were- are. What we had back then was something unique, I see that now. Our connection probably doesn't even happen with real siblings, I'm not even that close to my own sister.
“We're just catching up,” Stick tells her as he climbs down the stairs to the second floor. “There's a lot we've missed out on in the last five years.”
I can't help but grin at that. He's being honest with her but the underlying statement means so much more. He's also not remotely intimidated by my mother, whereas I still find I'm anxious over the possibility of her blowing up at me suddenly for no reason, or a fabricated one.
I climb down behind him and find her wrinkling her nose. Like there's a bad smell in the passageway. Shit. Can she smell the sex between us? Is she gonna outright accuse us? It's all I can do not to reach out for the comfort of Stick's big hand clasping mine.
“Here you all are.”
“Hi, Dad,” Stick immediately greets his father who appears at the top of the stairs.
Thank fuck. Saved by the bell.
“Hi, Mr Greengross,” I add.
“Scherri, don't you think you ought to call me Dad now?” he asks, good natured as ever and not noticing the glare from my mother at using the shortened name.
She always said 'Sherry is a liqueur but my daughter is Scheherazade,' to anyone that dared.
“Er, I guess,” I say.
Only because it would be rude to say no. I just wish they were in love like they used to be and shut themselves off together to be alone. So Stick and I could do the same. I'm leaving here in just a few days and I want him to myself for every single second.
“Well, I just came up to say goodnight,” my mother says, still eyeing me with that strange glint that makes me feel guilty even when I've done nothing wrong.
Which of course now I am doing. If she tells Stick's father about her suspicions, I'm certain he'll disown us both. Because how would it go down with their circle of friends in the neighborhood if it became known their kids were hooking up?
We say good night awkwardly to our parents and I know we shouldn't be doing this. I know that and my mother's beady eye only makes me feel dirtier for the way I feel about Stick.
But when I get into bed after washing up, it occurs to me that she's always made me uncomfortable about my body and sex. I grew up believing it was dirty to let men have you. And even worse to want them back. When I should have been taught to celebrate my own natural desires.
I writhe around under the covers, desperate to feel my pussy filled again. Needing Stick's hard fingers in my hope and stroking my agonized hard clit. An hour passes and still I can't get to sleep. I could get myself off but it feels like a waste with Stick just a few steps away. I'm considering the option of sneaking down to his room when I sense, rather than hear, a presence very close to my bed.
“Fuck, you move stealthily,” I whisper into the darkness.
“At least my training is being put to good use,” he grits out, before pulling my body through the dark to slam into his solid wall of undulating muscle.