Becoming Ch 01 1

Author's Note: While this is not an incest story, there is an element of incest within it; so if that bothers you, you may want to choose another story.

* * * *

"Blake, don't forget to act surprised tomorrow, okay?" Tracy was standing at the threshold of her bedroom as she spoke in a hushed voice. "Mom and Dad thought they were being all sneaky, but they don't seem to realize we're not seven years-old anymore."

"I know," Blake replied, leaning against the door jam of his sister's bedroom, "They do know we follow them on Facebook, right?"

Blake's parents were planning a surprise 18th birthday party for him and tomorrow was the big day.

"I have to say," he said, "I'm more looking forward to my 21st birthday, but who's counting. Good night."

"Good night."

Wow; 18 years-old, he thought. Blake Wilson looked into the bathroom mirror and smirked. How he'd changed over the last couple of years. At 16, he was 5-8 and a 155 pounds - athletic, but nothing like the person staring back at him in the mirror. Blake was built like a linebacker, standing over six feet and weighing 220 pounds. The thing was, he had no idea how he got his chiseled physique. While he played sports, he never really lifted weights. Over the last year, he had simply gone through a second growth spurt that turned him into the specimen he was today. He wasn't going to complain.

His extraordinary muscle tone was matched by his beautiful, mahogany skin, the result of the biological parents he never knew. The Wilsons adopted him when he was just a few weeks old and had always treated him like their own despite the obvious difference in skin color. He once asked his dad why they decided to adopt a child of a different race.

"We didn't think of it like that," he told him. "We picked the cutest baby with the cleanest bill of health." He paused for a moment then continued, "We were told that your biological parents were a mixed couple so we saw some poetry in that. Otherwise, we just thought you were a cute kid."

Their "cute kid" had grown into a behemoth of a young man who had caught the eye of more than one of his female classmates. Blake however, while going out on plenty of dates, was one of the few guys in his circle of friends that was still a virgin. He couldn't quite explain why - he wasn't consciously deciding to remain a virgin - when it came down to it, he just didn't have the desire to have sex.

However, just a week ago, things started to change. The first clue that something was happening to him occured exactly one week before his birthday. He woke up and walked to the bathroom like every morning. As often happened, he passed his sister in the hallway as she was usually up first. They grunted their "good mornings" as usual, still in the stupor of sleep. But this time, as Blake passed by his step-sister, he caught the scent of something he hadn't noticed before. It was faint but intoxicating, and it was emanating from his sister.

As they passed each other, something (that scent?) made him turn back. He couldn't help himself as his eyes drifted down her back to her round, bubble butt, which was barely contained by her pajama shorts. He took another whiff of the faint scent and his heart began to race in his chest. Before Tracy could notice, Blake ducked into the bathroom and closed the door. Splashing cold water on his face, he looked into the mirror. There was something there - just for a second - that was different about his eyes. He couldn't place it, but he shook off the incident with his sister and got ready for school.

He next noticed something off when he saw Megan, the girl whose locker was next to his. She was petite, wore glasses, and was a little bit of a nerd. But she was sweet and tutored in math and science. She even recently helped Blake prepare for a physics test.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," Blake replied. Megan was wearing her long, brown hair up in a ponytail, her neck exposed.

"What's up?"

Her skin was milky-white. As Blake looked down at her, he noticed the swell of her small tits in her blouse. "Nothing; just getting my books for class." There was that scent again - different than his sister's, but unmistakable. His heart began to pound in his chest like before.

Blake didn't look well. "Are you alright?" Megan asked.

"Yeah; I think breakfast didn't agree with me. I'll see you later."

"K; later. Hope you feel better."

Megan walked past him and the scent became stronger just for a moment. He turned his head to watch her walk down the hall - the porcelain skin of her legs; the tight rise of her ass under her skirt; the ponytail that swayed back and forth as she walked...What the fuck is up with me, he thought as he turned to go to his first class.

As he walked into the classroom, which was half full, he braced himself for another episode, but things were mostly normal. They were mostly normal because even though he was sensing the same kind of scent he detected earlier from Tracy and Megan, it wasn't quite as strong. But there was something else: he couldn't help but ogle at every girl in the room. He felt an overwhelming desire to enjoy every swell, every curve, every dimple. It didn't matter terribly how good looking they were - oh, there were girls he found more attractive than others of course - but he was able to find something to admire in all of them, and admire he did.

Blake was in his own little world when, as the bell for class rang and Ms. Thompson, the history teacher, entered the room, he became acutely aware of the middle-aged woman standing at the head of the classroom. It was unmistakable and it was very strong. With each breath he took, Blake could almost see an energy around Ms. Thompson's body. He savored the intoxicating scent, breathing it in as if his life depended on it. She was facing away from the class, writing something on the corner of the chalkboard, her ass jiggling as she wrote.

Blake glanced around but nobody seemed to notice that he was losing his mind. Ms. Thompson turned to face the class and began talking about the reading assignment, asking questions to see who read it and whether they understood it. Her face was beautifully proportionate, her shoulder-length auburn hair framing it perfectly. She wore thin, red glasses that she sometimes looked over when she was upset at a student. She carried a few extra pounds, never losing all of the weight from her two children. She was divorced, and the word around school was that she was single but dated from time to time. (One of Blake's friends saw her at a restaurant with a guy one time.) There was something different about her today - not just the intoxicating scent, but a glow. Blake didn't know what it meant but he couldn't help but stare.

"Blake. I asked you a question, aren't you paying attention?"

Shit. "Sorry, Ms. Thompson; I spaced out for a second there. Late night," he said.

"A little less time in the gym and a little more time hitting the books and getting a good night's sleep might do you some good."

"Yes, Ms. Thompson. My bad."

The rest of Blake's week continued in a similar fashion. He didn't know what he was sensing, but he realized two things:

1. The scent was somehow tied to his and their sexuality. In fact, as the week went on, the feelings he was having were getting more and more intense to the point where he sometimes felt a stirring in his pants, which was something he had never felt before. He wasn't, however, getting an erection like he had seen on the Internet. (One night after his friends had talked about a site, he checked it out, curious about what his friends found so interesting. At the time, he had been ambivalent toward it. He wondered what his reaction would be if he looked at it now.)

2. While the scent and the corresponding feelings were most acute when he was around girls, he did detect a similar scent around guys. It was different - more of an awareness than intoxication, but it was there nonetheless.

Truth be told, before this week Blake had thought something was wrong with him, and was in the process of working up the courage to ask his father if it was normal for a teenager to never get an erection or have the urge to have sex. His friends talked about girls all the time - how they wanted to have sex with them, did have sex with them, jerked off thinking about having sex with them - Blake had no such thoughts, until now. As time passed, he became more and more curious about what he was feeling and what those feelings were doing to his body.

* * * *

Blake lay in bed, still thinking about his conversation with Tracy and the birthday party. Why his parents felt the need to throw him a surprise party was beyond him. He was turning 18, not 16. Of course if they wanted to give him a car, he wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. He glanced over at the clock; it was just past midnight. "Happy birthday to me," he whispered, then closed his eyes.

His thoughts drifted to what was happening to him. Was this puberty part two? Was this something every guy went through? How was he going to keep going to school, feeling what he was...

...the beating of a heart; two hearts quickening in pace, pumping blood to where it's needed. The impossibly strong scent of something primal, animalistic. An uncontrollable hunger. A tightness in the chest; a tightness down below. The feel of skin against warm skin, bodies touching, colliding against each other in a steady rhythm.

Long, blonde hair grazing againt his skin as their bodies envelope each other in an embrace. The feel of his mouth on hers, devouring her as he takes her in his arms and lifts her to him, penetrating her body, making her groan in pleasure...The feel of her wrists in his hands, pinning her arms above her head, pistoning in and out of her as if the rhythm of his strokes is the only thing keeping him alive; her legs spread wide to accept him, her heels on the small of his back pulling him to her...

Her curvaceous body straddling him, grinding into him, then rising and falling with a heavy smack of skin against skin. Her round breasts in his hands, her hard nipples between his lips, the salty taste of her perspiration on his tongue as he fills her with his manhood...His grip on her full hips, his body slamming into her without restraint as she screams into a pillow. Unable to control himself, he grabs her long, blonde hair and pulls her head back, eliciting a groan from deep within her; he smacks her ass hard and she encourages him to do it again, harder...

He brings her to him, wrapping his arms around her body, crushing her large breasts. Her skin is hot and slick; her groans are deep and getting louder with each thrust into her body...He disengages from her long enough to pick her up and lift her off the bed. Standing now and holding her with her legs hooked over the crook of his arms, he penetrates her to the hilt and, putting her back against the door, takes her completely.

The door creaks against the violence of his thrusts as he tries to satiate his hunger for her, a hunger unmatched by anything he has felt before. She moans into his mouth as he feels her body squeeze him, her tightness almost unbearable. She groans again and he feels her losing control, her body convulsing against him, coming on his cock...His manhood stretches her as it swells, and he braces himself for its release. As her spasms subside, his body explodes and fills her with his seed in a seemingly unending stream. He slowly lets her down as she places her head on his shoulder, spent and satisfied like never before.

Blake opened his eyes and blinked wildly as if awaking from a trance. It took him a moment to realize where he was and how he had gotten there. He was standing outside his parents' bedroom, leaning against the frame of the door. He was naked, his body slick with sweat. His manhood was fully erect and pulsing to the rhythm of his heart. As his vision cleared, he noticed something else - the massive load of cum sprayed all over the bedroom door. Shocked by what he saw, he quickly went to the bathroom, damped a towel, and quietly cleaning up the mess. Once he was finished, his mind flashed back to what had happened.

Blake somehow knew that he had been...involved with his parents having sex; more than that, he had experienced it with them somehow. He looked down at his still hard penis. He had never seen it like this - the massive girth, the pulsing veins in the thick shaft, the large head still with a drip of cum on it. His parents had only satisfied him momentarily. He was still hungry...and instinctively, he knew what he had to do next.