Hiding In My House Pt 06

[Hey, everyone! Here at last is chapter 6 of Hiding in My House. Sorry it's taken so long ... apparently 3 years since the previous chapter, 2 since I last commented. From my perspective, this is the final chapter in the series. I've brought the characters to a point I'm content with, and these days I just don't have time to write free incest porn stories anymore. I'm very grateful to those who have followed and commented on my stories over the years, and I hope you enjoy how this one wraps up.]

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

***

Part 6

So there are some things that don't ever cross your mind until, you know, they

do

. And then they hit you like a freight train, right? Things like,

Oh my god, I've just turned eighteen and now that I'm legit an adult, holy fuck, the universe did not instantly turn into an easy-breezy cakewalk where I can totally control my own life and do whatever the shit I want.

Or like,

Yes! Here I am in the voting booth ready to change the world! But ... wait .... why are the only choices here complete shit?

Or like,

How could I have completely missed the fact that my dad and sister have been fucking each other's brains out for five years and why is that getting me so incredibly horny and what am I doing setting up all these spy cams to try to catch them in the act?

Things like that. Those happen to us all, right?

Oh, and,

Hmm, kind of thinking I might be bi, maybe ... probably ... GOOD GOD, how can I get in Seong's pants RIGHT THE FUCK NOW?!?

There's also a related kind of thought that doesn't occur to you at all, but once someone else suggests it to you, your brain is

all about it.

Lying in my bed with me, both of us still fully clothed, her legs wrapped around me and our groins mind-bendingly plastered to one another, Seong hit me with that second sort of idea.

"Suppose," she said, looking up at me through heavy-lidded eyes, with her sleek black hair fanned out across the pillow, "we go into the master bedroom, strip each other naked, and make messy, passionate love amongst the sheets where your father and sister usually lie?"

Gulp.

I looked over at the bedside clock. It had taken us a while to get all the hidden cameras set up in my room, in hopes that Dad and Kell would take some bait we meant to plant and get it on where we could video them. And then it had taken us a surprisingly short while to fake our way through some incest-sex roleplay to make sure the camera angles worked - getting me to a very

not

-fake orgasm in the process.

But if Dad and Kell stuck to their usual Sunday-morning routine of tennis followed by eating lunch out, the clock said we still had at least an hour before they'd be home.

So I didn't have to think about it very much (i.e., at all) before looking back down at her and saying (or, more honestly, kind of squeaking), "Um, sure?"

"Excellent." She unclasped her legs from around me and patted my shoulder, and I made myself lift up from where I had her crushed to the mattress.

A couple of minutes later, we'd hidden the bin of extra surveillance gear in the top of my closet and made our way into what I'd spent years thinking of as "(Used-to-be-Mom-and-Dad's/then-just-) Dad's room" - but now saw was pretty clearly "Dad and Kellie's room." They'd left the bed a jumbled mess, sheets and comforter thrown back, pillows lazily askew. A nightie of Kell's sprawled across one corner at the foot of the mattress. Other small signs of my sister being a regular occupant: both nightstands had phone chargers on them, and the right-hand one was missing Mom's trinket dish, where she'd put her rings and bracelets at bedtime. Spotting that made me look over at the free-standing vanity along the opposite wall. Except for dusting, Dad had left it untouched the last ten years, with the cozy little stool always pushed in. But now I saw the seat had been scooted out from its niche beneath the vanity, and a compact and some other accessories I recognized as Kellie's sat along the top shelf in front of the mirror - not displacing Mom's things, just next to them.

Seong's hand slipped into mine and wove our fingers together as I digested it all.

"Should we go back to your room?" she asked quietly.

"No," I said, blinking and surprised at how easily the word came out. "Seong, I don't know if I can explain, but ... well, it's ..."

"Yes?"

Still holding her hand, I pivoted, turning to take in the whole room.

"This is finally ... it's a

living

place again." I felt electric suddenly - alive and myself in a space that had always demanded I think of someone else. "Half my life, it's been, like, a shrine or a memorial. And now it's just their room, with a few little reminders of her."

She squeezed my hand, and then her free hand came lightly over to my shoulder. I turned my head to look at her and saw that beautiful, serene Seong smile - but also saw in her eyes a vitality and joy almost shocking in their vibrance.

"What?" I asked.

"The light in your voice," she said. "It is a beacon that draws me into this safe and familiar harbor where you wait. I feel ... blessed, to behold you in this moment, seeing this room anew."

I took in a deep breath - not so I could say anything, maybe just because something inside me felt so expanded right then.

"Also," she went on, gliding her hand from the curve of my shoulder along my collarbone, past the hollow at the base of my throat and up and around to my cheek, "I am incredibly horny. I want to bask in your emotions, but I also want to tear the clothes from your body and possess it, wholly and viscerally in a burning tangle of limbs and sweat."

I laughed. "You know, somewhere between those two, you could just kiss me and let things develop from there."

"I could," she admitted, her hand still cupped to my face, palm along my jaw, fingertips just under my ear, thumb brushing gently across my cheek. "But I have spent two years unable to speak these desires, and now I can feel bold and wanton in giving voice to them."

"Well, go right ahead and voice them then, I guess. Here ..." I let go of her hand and raised both arms above my head. "... talk me through the whole tearing-my-clothes-off part, why don't you?"

She stepped closer, easing her hand down along my neck until its heel rested on my collarbone and then on the upper curve of my breast. Her other hand settled in at my hip, let her fingers tease the empty belt loops of my shorts, then made its way upward to the ticklish-tender curve of my waist, laid bare when my arms had lifted the hem of my tank top.

Quietly, she said, "There will probably be more removing than tearing. I have weak-ish hands, and the fingers should save their strength for other purposes."

"Hmm," I said, rolling my hip beneath her touch. "I guess my clothing budget is okay with that, but I hope you weren't exaggerating the part about the tangling limbs and sweat."

"I promise we will both perspire adequately." The hand at my waist moved up as the other slid down and around, thumb drifting lazily across the hollow of my armpit, making me giggle and flinch. Farther down, and around, to the small of my back, it too found the hem of my top and ducked under. Then with both hands cradling my lower ribs, she leaned in and kissed me.

My eyes closed. I floated in her grasp, in the wet adoration of her lips. Whatever fragments of simple heterosexuality still loitered around in the back of my head now shrunk and slunk away into an embarrassed nothingness. I felt between my legs no wanting hollow waiting to be filled, but a swollen heat eager for the press of her fingers or her liquidly attentive tongue. Her palms and the curtain-kiss of my top rose up and up until the hem tripped over the nakedly erect tips of my nipples, exposing them, in a sharp moment, to atmospheric bliss.

Her lips left off their fluid clutching, let themselves slip down and open until her teeth grazed my chin, turned its corner, silently suggested a backward tilt of my head. I let my face turn sightlessly skyward, felt her kisses float down my throat like a petal dropped loose from its bloom. Her thumbs hooked into the gathered cloth of my shirt and lifted just as her head eased back and down, returning her lips to my skin right at the hollow above my breastbone. Up and past my elbows, the fabric rose; down and leftward across my breast went her mouth. I brought my arms and hands out from the soft-draped grasp of my top. She found my nipple with her mouth, with her teeth, with her tongue. I dropped my head, and after a tug to free the silky bell of my hair, she tossed my shirt away and left me naked from the waist up.

Have you ever had a slow, steady kiss drift all the way across the span of your chest, with your lover's mouth open the barest width, half-parted lips tracing gently from a nipple to your breastbone, where a wet tip of tongue eases languidly through those lips to your flesh, and then lips, tongue, and a track of quick-fading saliva ride in grace up the curve of your next breast, patient and true on their way to the waiting, lust-roused swell of your areola and the fiercely erect nub at its center?

Let me tell you, it kicks

all

the ass.

I opened my eyes and watched her halfway through that journey. Her face and gaze stayed turned to the pale contours they traveled, right up to the point where she captured my tingling areola with the ring of her mouth and subtly sucked it in. Then she looked up at me and lifted her brows high, her eyes wide.

"God damn, you're beautiful, Seong."

She laughed and eased a little lower to the floor, finding and flicking my bellybutton with her tongue. Finding and freeing the actual button of my shorts with her fingers.

Shit, this is so totally happening

, I thought. It felt unreal, dreamlike, in that way weird-ass shit seems normal to you when you're dreaming. Like,

Of course Ryan Reynolds is taking me to the dance but for some reason I can't find my Deadpool-pattern prom dress in this closet the size of Poughkeepsie, I should definitely be terrified that he'll take Carla from across the street if I can't get dressed and downstairs in the next 30 seconds.

She took hold of my zipper and teased it down, then parted the front of my shorts like a magician fanning out cards for the audience volunteer to pick from.

Any card, Seong. All the cards. Whatever cards you've got.

Gripping the side-seams, she tugged with one hand, tugged with the other, tugged again with the first. My hips and ass seemed stubbornly determined to keep my pants on, even though I wiggled them to try to help. Seong sucked hard at my navel and yanked, and just like that I was down to panties.

Her hands groped my butt cheeks, kneaded, squeezed, as she kissed her way lower, to the waistband of my underwear, and got the elastic between her front teeth. Again, her eyes looked up into mine. She leaned back a little, her bite peeling the front of my panties away from my belly and pubic hair, her nostrils flaring just above that gap as she breathed in, deep and steady. I could already smell myself from up where

I

was, so I didn't have any doubt what that breath was about.

"I feel like I'm getting a whole lot nakeder than you," I said, trying to sound chill but screwing it up with a heavy swallow right after I got the words out.

She let my waistband snap back into place. "I'm entirely open to direction if you care to voice any."

"Okay. Stand back up and get your top off while I take care of your bottom half, then."

"Happily."

She stood and I knelt and with only a little fumbling on my part, we were both equally undressed. I cupped my hand to her crotch as I got back up, hearing her gasp and feeling the slick, wet fabric of her panties, the soft fullness of her mound. Then our eyes connected, hers bottomless and pouring heat into mine, mine (I'm pretty sure) opened to a lunatic width. I crushed my chest to hers. A tremble of her softly parted lips pulled me in to kiss her, soul-deep.

My world melted and strobed.

How did we get in bed?

Where did my underwear go?

Everything was Seong, and silk.

I heard her laughing, gasping. I felt her hands laced through my hair as our kisses rose, crested, and subsided like waves across an endless ocean. I knew, somehow, where to touch, with how much pressure, for how long, to make her coo and then tense and then climax, her thighs squeezing tight where my fingers curled between them and dipped into her.

I reveled in the long, loud groan she gave out as the wet purity of her constricted and pulsed around my fingertips.

"

Ohhh, Sea,

" she breathed, those dark eyes of her now closed in bliss, "

how is this happening?

"

I kissed her again and put my mouth to her ear. "

I don't know. How did we manage not to think of it before?

"

She laughed, and her eyes opened and her legs relaxed. "Sea, I have thought of it

so

many times."

I lay my hand against her cheek, the two middle fingertips still damp and scented with her passion. "Well, you should have tried to sell me on the idea, then."

"And if I had?" She shrugged. "Maybe that conversation would have gone marvelously. But even then, this moment would not be this moment. And I would not trade away this moment for anything."

"Mm." I dropped my head a little to kiss her again, then poke the soft tip of her nose with mine. "Me either, I guess. And probably that conversation would have freaked me out a little."

Her lips flattened knowingly for a second before she replied, "A little. Yes, I'm sure it would have been 'a little.'"

I growled and faked a frown, which just made her laugh again.

"If you don't like me saying these things you know are true," she said, "perhaps you should put my mouth to a different use."

"Like ..."

Her eyes rolled.

"I'm telling you to sit on my face, dense girl."

It took me a couple of blinks to respond. Her hands slipped into my armpits to encourage me - and then her thumbs each gave me a poke there so I would get moving, which worked because I couldn't help squeaking and lifting up and forward to escape them.

"Hey, I'm going!" I said, crawling quickly along her body while those thumbs trailed down my ribs and waist, ever threatening another tickle-gouge. "Have some patience!"

"I've had two years of patience," she said as my knees sank into the pillow at either side of her head. "Two years of wanting you, just like this, smelling just this way ..." I felt the tickle of her nose in my pubic hair, then the hot breath of her mouth steaming up against my wetness. "... tasting ... just ... so."

Tongue.

"Oh,

fuck!

"

No more than the tip, landing with the weight of a soap bubble against my clit. Then, gently, pressing lower, sliding, flittering its way down that crease to find the soaked opening it wanted. Her upper lip brushed and then massaged my hood as she licked, and licked, and finally sealed her whole mouth fully to my crotch. I settled into place, guided by her hands on my thighs.

So if you're a girl and you've sat on a guy's face and you're good with how that went ... let me tell you, for god's sake don't try it with another woman. It will totally ruin you for straddling any more man-lips. I mean, maybe I'm jumping to conclusions - I've only had two guys do that for me. Maybe there are plenty of dudes out there who could make me come every bit as fast and hard as Seong did right then. Maybe it was the seriously weird emotional state I was in.

But holy

shit

.

Her mouth explored me with a soft, giving patience - a

certainty

of what it was doing, not because she'd ever done this before, but because she obviously knew exactly what she wanted and exactly what she wanted me to feel. The breath she let out as she pursed her lips against my clit ... the slow dilation of her mouth to encompass more and more of my swollen vulva ...

I've mentioned Seong has a big fucking mouth, right? Well, she wasn't being shy at all about opening it as wide as it would go, and she has a long goddamn tongue too. I swear I thought she was going to suction her face to me all the way from mons to perineum and tongue-drill me until I screamed. If my brain had been in charge, I don't think I even would have remembered to move my hips. But at some point along the way, they sort of just started doing it themselves - a little side-to-side rolling, then forward-and-back face-fucking, then a lift up because I suddenly got worried I was smothering her, except that she responded by extending her neck and lapping, kissing, sucking until I moved back down again.

You people who aren't me and aren't Seong ... I mean, just go hold yourselves a pity party. You've never had anything like that moment.

(Maybe you have. Rationally, I'm sure some of you have. But I can't bring myself to

feel

that what I experienced right then was ordinary, or common, or anything short of complete and singular.)

This woman's mouth had spent literally years being the most expressive thing I'd ever seen or heard. In words ... with laughter ... through its thousands of subtly different curves and curls, each telling a different story about what went on in the mind behind its movements. That mouth could speak a whole continent's history with a shallow smile, or lift the weight of mountains from you with a word. And now it was proving, out of sight beneath my tremoring pelvis, that the rawness of lust and the purity of love do not have to exclude one another.

They do usually, right? Love requires your mental presence - your highest humanity. And then lust, well, it kicks all reason from your head and stretches you out across a million years of animalistic evolution. Only it turns out they can sync up, work together, make you understand that the beast in you is noble and that the wise and elevated thinker springs from and is connected to all that is earthen and natural.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, I was fucking

coming

and

coming

and

coming

and Seong was my universe and I knew SO goddamn many

things

.

The touch of her hands, light but sure, taking in the flowing curves of my thighs, my waist, my ass, my breasts - learning all the taut and vital planes of my muscles, the softness of my belly - they spoke to me, those palms and joints and fingertips:

I am understanding the reality of you.

Even as her lips and tongue struck me blind with waves of glory, crashing up through my abdomen and chest to my skull, her touch along my spine or my sternum held me in the moment, kept me centered and aware when I should have been insensate with pleasure. Even as my passion thrummed from the wet connection of mouth on cunt, her love spoke in close caresses along the delicate flesh of my inner thighs, told me with a tender grasp or a gentle press of thumbs that she, my favorite person, was learning every inch of me, her favorite person, and that she found these lessons the most expansive of her whole life's education.

Finally, I cried out from an unbearable orgasmic spasm and begged her to stop.

"Just your mouth," I gasped, breathing hard with hands clenched to the top of the headboard in front of me. "God, Seong ... oh my god. I can't take any more coming. Keep touching me ... but no more pussy stuff ...

please

."

She responded by running a single fingertip down my ribs - which made me scream and roll off of her and bang my head against the head of the bed, then slump to the mattress with my mouth open and slack.

"

Guhhh

."

Her softly smiling face eased into view above me. Her body settled along and atop mine, right leg hooked across my left one. I saw the sheen of my own pleasure sparkling on her lips until her tongue came out and licked the top one clean.