Hiding In My House Pt 01

[All characters in this story are 18 years of age or older.]

***

So I didn't tell my family I was dropping out of college, and apparently, I should have.

Like,

really

should have.

But who in the world would think things would

ever

go... the way they did?

I didn't sleep well

at all

when Seong dropped me at home after midnight that Friday. Tossing and turning in my bed, thinking about Brandt and Eddi, crying over him cheating on me with her, steaming over both of them letting me

catch

them... I mean, what a couple of shits. How could I stay in the house we all rented together, knowing they'd done that? No fucking way. So I stuffed some crap in a backpack and had Seong drive me, which of course she did because Seong can't say no to anyone, but also of course she spent the whole ninety miles telling me what a mistake I was making, how I could just move my stuff to the fifth room we hadn't found a housemate to fill yet, how I'd be screwing up my whole graduation schedule if I blew the semester off and left, how she knew if I tried, I could ignore the fact that Brandt was in half my classes and Eddi was in the other half. You've got to give it to Seong -- she's a ray of sunshine telling you how much she believes in you and how she knows you can do it, you've just got to try. If I hadn't already been gut-sick of my business admin major, she could've convinced me. But half a semester of Finance 327 and Econ 314 made me want to throw myself off a building. That's how I finally got her to shut up, by saying, "You don't want me to throw myself off a building, do you Seong?" And of course then I felt even more like a shit-slug under a moldy rock in an all-weeds garden, because it was hurtful the way I said it, and nobody with three-sevenths of a heart could stand to hurt Seong's feelings and see that thing her face did when she was working her ass off trying to swallow how she felt about whatever they'd said that bothered her. Poor Seong. Nobody should be that good a friend.

Long story short, not much sleep, bad dreams when I finally did get to sleep, and then I woke up at 9:42 with the sun peeking in through my curtains and the house mostly quiet except for Dad and Kellie's voices coming from somewhere down the hall.

Oh god, please let me get to the bathroom without them noticing I'm up and asking me what I'm doing home.

Dad's almost as sensitive and supportive as Seong, and Kellie's always hated Brandt, so as soon as they found out what had happened one or the other or both of them would start driving me crazy with advice or I-told-you-so's.

Headphones.

I put my earbuds in and got my phone and Pandora-ed something and felt pretty good about my plan: keep my eyes down on the screen, nod my head to the beat, and if somebody spotted me and said something, pretend I didn't hear and scoot into the upstairs bath where I could lock the door and run the shower at least half an hour and the hair dryer at least twenty minutes past that.

Yes, great plan.

Opening it as slowly and quietly as I could, I got through my bedroom door into the upstairs hall, walked a little ways down, got to the study, saw that Kellie's door just past there was half-open, caught a glimpse of the happy peach walls inside, realized I could half-hear that the voices were coming from in there, got ready to zip past into the bathroom door kitty-corner to hers... let my eyes flick over to look through the gap --

And froze like... I don't know, like some epic-level mime doing a statue impression for a billion-dollar statue-impression competition or something.

Because...

I shit you not, there they were.

My dad and my sister.

In her bed.

Naked.

And fucking.

Oh, and it wasn't some tender, slow, quiet, eyes painting portraits of each other's souls kind of thing. No, he had her on her hands and knees and was slapping it into her like a porn star. And apparently doing it really well, because right then, she let it out so loud I could hear her over Pandora in my earbuds.

"Oh

shit

, Daddy! YES! Oh God, Yes -- Fuck Me!!!"

So, yeah, that happened.

I hit the pause on my phone immediately in case any notes might get out past the buds, and for that caution I got rewarded with hearing Kellie say in a just barely quieter voice, "Ahhh... Jesus...

Jesus,

Dad!

Nnnnnnhhhh I'mabouttocome

..."

And Dad saying back to her, "Yes, Baby.

Do

it.

Come

for your Daddy..."

And then some of that raw-sex grunting -- the kind that, you know, absolutely explodes your sanity if you hear it coming from your father and your sister over the squishy smacking sound of him doggy-styling her into a nuclear orgasm.

"Oooooohh

AHH

--"

Luckily they were facing the headboard against the far wall, not the doorway. I backed very slowly away. Churchmouse quiet, although I'm pretty sure even a megaphone-equipped Richard-Dawkinsmouse wouldn't have gotten their attention.

The riot of bedspring sounds and other... oh my god,

incest

noises followed me past the study, where I let myself turn and sneak the rest of the way to my room as hush-fast as I could.

"Kellie... oh...

oh, Kellie

..." I heard on my way through the door. Then she was squealing and he was groaning and I kept the knob turned as I pulled it shut and then inchworm-slow let it rotate back to its neutral position.

What the holy

hell?

With the door closed and their voices muted, I realized I could hear my own breathing,

crazy

fast and loud. My heart was like,

ricocheting

off my lungs, it was beating so hard.

And my brain was

throbbing

.

I don't mean like, I had a headache all of a sudden. I mean like, imagine if every neuron in your skull started going,

RRr-WAH, RRr-WAH, RRr-WAH

in time. And every

RRr

was your dad's hips pulling back -- with the muscles of his ass and thighs tensed and standing out -- and then every

WAH

was him jamming deep into your sister's cunt again, his hands clenched at her waist to add his upper body strength into the thrust so her gorgeous tits and her long, dangling brown hair swung forward with the power of his crotch thumping up against her twat.

RRr-WAH, RRr-WAH, RRr-WAH.

RRr-WAH, RRr-WAH, RRr-WAH.

And then after a while, in the pause between each

RRr

and

WAH

my brain made, these thoughts started showing up.

RRr-WAH, RRr-WAH, RRr-WAH.

Okay, obviously they don't know I'm here.

RRr-WAH, RRr-WAH, RRr-WAH.

And I have to keep it that way.

RRr-WAH, RRr-WAH, RRr-WAH.

They

can't

find out that I know.

RRr-WAH, RRr-WAH, RRr-WAH.

Why not?

RRr-WAH, RRr-WAH, RRr-WAH.

Because,

fuck! Fuck, shit, what the fuck!

is why.

RRr-WAH, RRr-WAH, RRr-WAH.

Also, that is

not

a family chat I want to have!

RRr-WAH, RRr-WAH, RRr-WAH.

I do

not

want to know!

RRr-WAH, RRr-WAH, RRr-WAH.

Know what?

RRr-WAH, RRr-WAH, RRr-WAH.

When it started!

How

it started! Who started it!

RRr-WAH, RRr-WAH, RRr-WAH.

And then I realized, sitting there in the middle of the same slobby mess I'd left all over my floor at the beginning of the semester, I already did know those things. Mostly.

RRr-WAH, RRr--

That goddamn camping trip right after she graduated high school.

The one I missed because I was being pissy about something -- I don't even remember what, it was five years ago -- so I went and stayed over with my friend Darisha and then spent three days getting jealous off Kellie's Instagram posts from Unbelievably Evergreen Paradise-on-Earth National Park. The one where, after they came back, there was just something...

different

. Not like a secret they were hiding (although Christ, apparently they were

really

hiding a helluva secret)... no, I could just feel them being closer from then on. And it seemed like I had missed out on whatever had done that. And I just blamed the fact that I'd been a brat and then they'd bonded a little, and I had to take it as a lesson not to get pissy over stupid shit when I had a great sister and an awesome father and they both loved the crap out of me.

As for who started it, duh, it

had

to have been Kellie. Dad would

never

. Not in a zillion years. Even if he had the hots for her so bad it was out-and-out killing him, he would

not

risk hurting her by making as much as the tiniest move on something like that. It might be in his nature as a man to perve on her. (He used to tell us, "Girls, what you have to understand is, if society didn't have a boatload of dead-serious rules against deviating from the sexual norm, guys would fuck

anything.

All the time.") But it wasn't in his nature as a human to take a single breath that might damage either of his daughters.

And the

how

of it starting must have been that downpour second night of their trip, when a thunderstorm came out of nowhere while they were hiking and drenched them both to the bone so by the time they got back to the tent, they had to strip to their undies and huddle inside two layered sleeping bags to avoid hypothermia.

Only holy shit they must not have even left their undies on. Of course not, a fucking life-or-death situation and they're going to crawl into a sleeping bag in dripping wet underwear? I mean, in for a penny, in for a pound at that point, right?

Snap. It fell into place in my head as clear and sharp as the view I'd had of them humping it up just a minute before. There they are, spooned and shivering inside two nested sleeping bags with a bunch of those twist-and-heat hand-warmer things trying to get the cold out of their skeletons. His arms are around her and hers are squeezed together tight against her chest and their teeth are chattering and she feels like ice to his skin and there's nothing sexual about it at all.

I mean, you know, at

first

.

But at some point the chemical hand-warmers and the sleeping bags and the shared body heat start working. And then you've got this strong, steamy older hunk and this sexy goddess of a young woman pasted skin-to-skin together and warm enough to think again but still cold enough they're not ready to untangle their naked bodies. Which means sooner or later he has to apologize for his dick getting hard and pulsing against the flesh of her leg or her ass, wherever it's landed, and he tries to get his arms loose but she clutches them to her and says she's still cold, which of course is true and he can feel it, but not so true she couldn't let go and climb out of the sleeping bag and get into some dry clothes. She's enjoying the sensation of his arms holding her and his breath on the back of her neck and his cock, hard and manly, pressing itself suggestively to her thigh or the crack of her ass.

And then eventually, she makes something happen.

I don't know if she rolls over, pushes him onto his back, and sits on it... or if she just reaches between her legs and takes hold of it and guides it into her from behind. I don't know if she has to talk him up to it. Probably. Only maybe not, maybe she just surprises him and before he knows it, she's got him halfway up her hot, silky pussy and it feels so good and he loves her so much it's impossible to push her away.

But however it starts, they spend the rest of the night and probably the whole third day of their trip fucking.

And then when they get home, they start feeling guilty -- not about the incest, because it's too good. But the two of them have this thing now, and I'm not in it with them. They can't tell me in case it breaks my brain, but it's always been the three of us, since Mom died, and now it can't ever quite be the three of us again, as long as the two of them are sharing something that big without me.

So they make up for it by being extra nice to me. Like,

ever since

then. They're SO nice to me and both of them do everything they can to make me happy, and honestly our lives go from already being pretty great to this bonus level of greatness that's like, ninety percent of the time so good I don't mind that vibe between them. That thing I can feel that I think I ditched out of by going to Darisha's like a miserable little snit.

Only I didn't miss out on anything. If I'd gone, it wouldn't have happened.

I really didn't have to even think that through. It was obvious.

Dad would have put me and Kellie together in our two sleeping bags and then huddled by himself in his own, and it would have taken him three times as long to get warm, but he'd have gotten there eventually without being naked next to his daughter with his dick getting harder and harder as they got over the cold.

It would have been a fun trip with a shared bit of misery in the middle, and our little family dynamic would have been just the same afterward as before.

And that's why I've got to get out of this house without them knowing I was here.

Because I knew, however shitty my life at college had turned, my life at home was perfect, and I didn't want to fuck that up by having them find out I'd seen what I'd seen. I mean, maybe it would turn out okay and all, but what if it didn't?

Suddenly, Brandt and Eddi didn't matter for shit. I could totally call Seong before she left her parents' house to drive back, and I could totally take over the spare room in our rental house, and I could totally finish my goddamn business degree without it eating my soul, as long as I knew I was letting Dad and Kellie have this wonderful thing I now understood about them, and as long as I knew the three of us could be the three of us forever.

But... how do I get out without getting caught?

I had a little,

whoa, surreal

, moment there when it hit me that in the space of maybe two minutes I'd gone from mind-smashed at finding out my family was a literal hot-bed of raging incest to being happy for them and wanting to make sure I didn't ruin it. No sick feeling in my stomach, no jealousy... in fact, that old little "why did I have to miss that camping trip?" nag was gone from the back of my head. I'd solved the mystery of their special vibe, and now all I had to do was keep from blowing it, and from this point forward, whenever I saw them give each other one of those teensy-tiny smiles, I'd be able to go,

Mmm-hmm. Nice.

But I had to get out first.

My window wouldn't do the trick -- it let out right over our deck, so even if I dropped from it without breaking an ankle, they might hear the crash. Or if they didn't, they might find the window still open at some point, or if my neighbor's dog was outside, they'd hear that bitch barking the way she only ever barks at

me

for whatever goddamn reason.

Somehow, I had to make it downstairs and out the front door without them noticing.

Damn, couldn't they at least have shut Kellie's door while they were fucking?

But why would they? You have a secret like that, and you're sure no one's coming in the house where they could see, don't you want to take every single molecule of freedom you can? Fucking in her bed with the door open -- it must have felt like the sweet nectar of liberty to them.

Which, of course, took me back to that image.

Kellie on all fours, every curve of her gorgeous hourglass figure posed to receive him, to grind her ass back with each thrust he made forward. I'm not embarrassed of my boobs or anything, but hers are way better than mine -- lush and full, and the way they hung there, swaying with the rhythm of her movements, just waiting for him to reach around and get both hands on them...

Damn, did he? If I'd stuck around a little longer or woken up a little sooner, would I have seen those strong, tender fingers cupping and squeezing her breasts?

And Dad, behind her... holy crap, I'd forgotten how perfect his back and shoulders were since the last time we were at the pool or the beach. And I'd never seen his ass completely bare before, to know how exact a match it was to the rest of his hunky dorsum. And, I just now realized, I'd certainly also never seen his balls before, but there they hung in my memory, round and heavy and swinging forward and back each time he drove into Kell's tush.

I played it on a loop in my head, just those few seconds. How they moved, what they said. The gleam of the lights off the sweat that glossed and beaded their skins.

About the time I found myself tingling between the legs, a sound broke me out of it.

Shower! Yes!

I could hear footsteps and voices, muted by the door between us and washed out by the rushing water from the shower. It sounded like both of them were in or going into the hall bathroom. I started grabbing stuff to shove back into my backpack. Then I grabbed some jeans and shoved my legs into them. I'd slept in a tank-top and panties, so, nothing else needed before I got outside.

Backpack over both shoulders, shoes in one hand, I moved to the door and listened. Just the running shower and some murmurs, too indistinct for me to make out words. So I opened the door and peeked out.

Oh fucking Christ. You two and your sweet nectar of motherfucking liberty.

The bathroom door was open.

That's really taking it too far, guys. Come

on.

The murmurs reached my ears much louder now, but I still couldn't turn them into language.

Oh, because they're not saying anything.

I caught a "

Yeahhh

" over the splashing water here and there, or one of their names. But whatever else they might be doing, they weren't doing complete sentences, that's for sure.

Could I sneak past the door? They had it open as wide as it would go.

No, one glance at the wrong time and they'll see me plain as day. Close the door and keep thinking.

But... I didn't.

My dad, kneeling behind my sister and mounting her like an animal, both of them sliding and groaning and

really

goddamn enjoying it -- I had maybe five seconds of that in my memory.

And I couldn't help it. I wanted more.

So I shucked my backpack and put down my shoes and eased my door

verrrry

quietly open and took one step and then another into the hallway. Ahead on my right, the doorway into the dark study, then Kellie's room, which looked all sunny and normal from this angle, but which I now knew must completely smell of sex.

Ahead on my left, just past and offset from the hot-sex room, the bathroom door -- its bright lights spilling out into the hall along with the steamy

SSHHHHH

of the shower.

And some actual words:

"God, Daddy, how does your cock always feel so

good

going into me?"

He laughed, and it was his laugh, but it was also a laugh I'd never heard because it had just a hint of drunk-on-fucking to it. Then he must have whispered something to her, because I didn't hear a word from him, but Kellie said, "Oooh, right. That's a very good explanation."

And I hadn't noticed myself moving, but suddenly I was maybe six steps farther down the hall from my room, creeping along the left-hand wall, thinking about what they must look like and about how the bathroom was laid out and whether I had any chance of finding a position where I could sneak a look or two without revealing myself.

The shower stall, big and glass-walled, stood at the far end from the door. The mirror over the sink hung facing me. If I hunkered down low enough, I could get all the way to the door-frame without being in direct line of sight or reflected in the mirror. Then maybe I could ease myself up inch by inch until the mirror let me see maybe just the tops of their heads. That would give me an idea where there were in the stall, how they were positioned, whether the mirror or my corner of the doorway would be in their view.