Jess Was A Bitch Ch 02

Jess and Jon continue to understand each other better.

Thanks to LarryInSeattle for help with the editing.

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I roll off her, panting and start laughing. Jess scowls at me. "What's so funny?" she demands.

"This. Us. I just lost my virginity - to my sister for Christ's sakes." The enormity of that statement washes over me and the laughter dies in my throat. I look at her and what a second ago seemed funny to me suddenly causes me to be overwhelmed with shame. I scramble to the far side of the bed and pull the comforter over my lap. I put my head in my hands and start to rock forward and backwards. Someone is moaning, "no, no, no" over and over and I realize it's me.

"Oh, Jesus, Jess, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. Jesus." I realize I'm crying.

Her hand touches my back and I jump out of bed.

"Jon," I can't answer her. I wrap the comforter around my waist and clutch it like a drowning man. "Jon, stop. Don't ruin this. It was beautiful." She slips an arm around my legs, rests her head against the back of them. "I'm sorry you're upset. I get it; I do. Two days ago, if you'd have asked me what I thought about a brother and sister having sex, I would have gagged but not now. I'm sorry you're upset but if it helps, you just gave me something wonderful, and with it, the understanding that what Alex and I have is not love." She leaned out of bed and kissed the skin on my back, just above the comforter. "I was a virgin, too. I've fucked before but no one has ever made love to me; not until today, not until you, and I won't feel bad about that."

I stood there, running her words through my head, as she rolled out of bed on the other side. I'm still standing there when I hear the chime that signals someone has inserted a key card in the room lock. I have no idea if we put the chain on. I dive back into bed, frantically pulling at the sheet and comforter. I'm vaguely aware of Jess doing the same in the other bed.

"Last chance, you two," our father's irritatingly cheerful early morning voice calls out. "You still have time to get ready and join us..." His voice trails off.

I sit up in bed, grinding the heels of my palms in my eyes and faking a yawn, praying that he'll mistake my red eyes for sleepiness and not tears. Jess plays it smarter, she pulls a pillow over her head. "Ugh, dad, what are you doing? It's like three in the morning or something."

"No, sweetie, it's like nine in the morning." He answers her but he's staring at me.

I feel myself on the verge of a full-blown freak out. Do I have jizz on my chest or something? Fuck, does the room smell like sex? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I hide my panic behind another fake yawn. "No thanks, dad. Can I get a pass? I think you're right; maybe I did get too much sun yesterday. I'm just gonna chill and read my book."

He nods, glances at Jess. I follow his gaze. Her bare ass is showing. I squelch a moan of dismay before it escapes my mouth. He looks at me, then turns and leaves without saying a word. The door clicks. I fall back into the bed and allow the moan to escape.

"He knows," I whisper to the ceiling.

"No, he doesn't," Jess whispers back but I hear the doubt in her voice.

"Your butt was hanging out from under the covers, your tee shirt is on the floor by my bed, and, just to seal the fucking deal, my boxers are on top of your shirt. Yeah, he knows. He may pretend he doesn't but he knows. Jesus."

"I don't care," Jess snaps, the old fire in her voice. She hops out of bed and stands facing me, looking unbelievably beautiful, her breasts heaving, checks flaming. "For the first time, I feel like someone really loves me, like a man does for a woman. I don't fucking care if it's you. I deserve it. I'm not a bitch. I deserved to be loved."

With that, she started to cry. I lift the edge of the comforter up. "Come here, Jess." She stumbles into the bed and huddles against my chest.

***

Outside the kid's room, a very confused man leans against the wall, wondering what he should do. There's one thing for sure he knows not to do, tell his wife, their mother. He squares his shoulders and walks back to his room and his wife and a road trip he no longer has the least bit of interest in.

***

"Oh, God, Jess, what if he tells mom? She already hates me."

"Are you that dim? She doesn't hate you, she hates me. To our mother, I represent everything she hates about herself. Her sole salvation is imaging I'm worse than she is."

I roll up on one elbow to look at her. "You think that's true?"

"Yes, I do." Jess wipes at her eyes. "You think I'm such a bitch? Try hanging out with our mother for a while."

I try to keep my mind on our conversation but the sight of her boobs is distracting. Worse, her wet cheeks and red eyes beg for comfort. I shake my head, trying to clear it.

"What if she's not a bitch, not really. What if she's simply afraid if she doesn't act like a bitch, she'll get hurt?" I consider whether to say anymore and then plunge ahead. "Isn't that what you were doing?"

"Some. I was a bitch to you because you were so mean to me."

"Jess, I was not," I protest. "I don't want to argue, not anymore, but my first memories are of you tormenting me. You were

not

an older sister enamored with the idea of a baby brother. I mean let's be real, okay?"

"Why would I? Mom and dad spent all their time 'oh'ing and 'ah'ing over you and totally ignored me."

"I'm sorry if that's how you felt but Jess, think about it. How many times did dad take you, only you, to the zoo, to a movie, skating. He went out of his way to pay attention to you. Do you really not see that?"

"He took you places, too," Jess protests but softly.

"Yeah, he did but don't you think, trying to be honest as we can, he tried to balance it out?" I brush the hair off her forehead. "Maybe we both have had our heads up our asses for so long we can't even see the truth any longer. Maybe it would be better if we started over?"

She chuckled, a lovely sound. "Uh, I think we already have, doofus." She looks at me, eyes serious. "I don't mean about what happened this morning. I mean the way you wiped away my tears last night. I finally believed you when you said you didn't hate me."

"But I did, Jess, right up until that moment when you were crying. I did. Whatever reasons there may or may not have been, that makes me an asshole."

"

Made

,

made

you an asshole and, fine, made me a bitch, past tense. I agree, let's start over. Deal?"

"Deal," I agree. It's too awkward for a handshake so I seal the deal with a kiss, just a little kiss, more of a peck on the lips really but either my lips don't leave hers or her lips follow mine when they attempt to leave. In any case, her lips press firmly against mine. I can taste her still, on my lips, on her lips. When her tongue pushes into my mouth, I let it and reach for a breast. Her nipple is hard and hot against my palm. Jess puts her hand on my chest and pushes me onto my back but she never breaks our kiss. Her hand finds my cock. It's already hard. It had started getting hard as soon as she climbed back into my bed, our bed.

She breaks the kiss, bites my chin. "I love your whiskers," she whispers into my mouth. "Don't shave." I vow never to shave again. She kisses my Adam's apple as her hand runs through the wisps of hair on my chest. There's not much. She bites my nipple and I squeal. She giggles.

"You sound like a girl," she teases, and nips at my chest again.

I don't squeal this time, I moan. I want her so bad. I'm a sick piece of shit but I want to plunge my dick back into her pussy and fuck her. Jesus, help me. Her hand wraps around my cock and I whimper. Her hand feels cold around its hard heat.

"Poor baby brother, you're so hard." She squeezes. "So very hard." She lays her head on my belly, facing my dick. I feel her hair brush it. I hear her sniff. "So hard and smelling like my cunt." I moan and wiggle my hips. "Oh, you like that? You like when I squeeze your hard cock? Like when I smell it? Like when I talk about my cunt? My pussy? Huh?"

"Yes," I pant. "Yes, Jessie, I like all of those things."

"Um, good, Jon, cause I like them to. I like them a lot." Her tongue slides up the length of my dick. "Um, I taste good, don't I, or is that you I taste?"

"No, you," I whisper. "Your pussy tastes like heaven. Let me eat your pussy again, please."

"I like that, the way you ask. That asshole Alex was always telling, demanding. And, speaking of Alex, I've been letting him fuck me for almost three years. Not once did I ever cum, ever, unless I did it myself. Every time we fucked, I sucked his miserable cock and he never, ever, went down on me." She lets go of my dick and whirls around in the bed, grabbing my face with both hands. "Jon, I'm sorry I was mean to you all those years. I thought you hated me. I'm sorry. I was a kid, you were a kid. Don't hate me. I don't want to be, or mean to be, a bitch, not to you."

Her eyes are wet. She can't have been the bitch I imagined most of my life. No one can change this much overnight.

"I'm sorry, too. You're not a bitch. I'm sorry for every time I said that word to you. I want to kiss you now, on your pussy, your clit, once for every time I said it. I don't mind asking, I don't mind begging, Jess, please let me eat your pussy. Please."

Her hands tighten on my face. She kisses me, hard enough to mash my lips against my teeth, then she's turning and one leg passes above my face. She's straddling my head and her lush, wet, pink, utterly divine cunt hovers just above me. She reaches between her legs, spreads her lips, opening herself to my waiting mouth and tongue. I put my hands on her hips and urge her lower.

She presses against my mouth and my tongue dives into her. She moans and sits on my face. I can barely breathe, my nose is pressed against her asshole. That doesn't gross me out, not like I would have imagined. Instead, all I can think of is licking her, all of her, her pussy, her cunt, her asshole. I press and wiggle my face against her. My cheeks are already slick.

How much is her pussy juice,

I wonder.

Surely, most of it. My jizz would have leaked out during the night. My sperm isn't in her cunt; it's on the sheets, under my ass. Maybe I'll fuck her from behind while she sucks my cum out of the sheets, balling the sheets up with her fists, shoving the wad into her mouth and sucking, sucking at my cum. Or maybe she'll make me do it. She'll pull the sheet off the bed, ram the wet spot in my mouth, sitting astride me, riding my cock and threaten to never let me fuck her again, unless I suck my own cum out of the sheets. I got the sheets dirty, dirty with my sick piece of shit cum juice, suck 'em clean baby brother, she'll demand, and I'll do it, do anything for her, she's not a bitch, she's a goddess, I've insulted her, I owe her, I love her, she owns me.

Don't be a fucking pussy, asshole. You own her. Feel the way she's grinding her cunt on your face. She loves it! Loves your mouth, your tongue, your fucking cock - the cock that pounds her, makes her flesh echo and shimmer, tits swaying, panting, lip chewing fucked with your rock-hard meat stick. Fuck her, fuck her with your fucking face, suck her cunt into your mouth and part her lips with your tongue, fuck her, fuck her, eat her, fuck, eat.

No, stupid. I don't own her. She doesn't own me. We own each other.

Oh, fuck, that's her mouth, on my fucking dick, she's sucking my dick, I'm all the way inside her, my cock is all the way inside her mouth, no, no, don't leave, no, suck my dick, careful, don't pull too hard, what are you doing, that's my foreskin, its gross, no one else in gym has a ugly dick like mine, oh jesus jess don't put your tongue under it, dirty, amazing, don't do, don't stop, I'm sorry I don't mean to fuck your mouth like this but I can't hold still I have to move have to shove my cock deeper and deeper sorry if I'm sucking too hard but your cunt so wet oh fucking hell yes slide your cunt back and forth over my tongue clit flick slide swallow fuck you mouth fuck you eat you love

I explode in her mouth and cry out. I turn my head and bit her leg to keep from screaming. Her pussy is sliding all over the side of my face. I feel her pussy juice run into my ear. Her body stiffens. Something wet sprays my face and chest. Did she pee on me? I don't care. It's hot on my skin and part of her. I try not to bite too hard. I don't mean to hurt her but I must cling to something or I swear to God the pleasure arcing through my body will fling me into space.

I slowly regain control of my body. Jess collapses to my side, whimpering softly. I untangle myself from her legs and kneel beside her. I kiss her but she barely responds. Is she mad at me? I kiss her again. Kiss her breasts. I've barely played with her beautiful boobs. Her nipples beg for my mouth. I oblige. She moans, lower in her throat. I roll her onto her back. I've cum but my brain is still in flames. I spread her legs and stare at her cunt.

It's shiny and red, her thighs are slick. I wipe the side of my face and lick my hand. It doesn't taste like pee, it tastes like her pussy. I kiss her clit.

"Oh, no, no, Jon, too sensitive, stop," she calls, pushing me away with one hand on my head. I groan inside; I still thirst for her. Oh, shit. I see a purple spot forming on the inside of her leg.

You, asshole,

I scream to myself.

Look what you did, you bit her, it's not a fucking hickey, you bit her, bruised her, hurt her, asshole, jerk, dick.

I move back to her head. I cup her face as she had mine. "Jess, I'm sorry if I hurt you. You make me crazy. I don't know what to do. I know you're sore and my dick is still soft but I want to fuck you again, fuck you forever."

"Hush, Jon. You've got a brain full of endorphins. I should know; so, do I. I want you to fuck me again but not right now. Jesus, that was fucking unbelievable. I came so hard I thought I was dying. You didn't hurt me." She smiles at me. "I could taste my pussy on your dick." Her smile widens. "It wasn't gross. I liked it. Could you taste yourself, in my pussy?"

"No, I don't think so." I hesitate. "I imagined you making me suck on the sheet, suck my cum out of the sheet where it had leaked out of you. Fucking gross, huh?"

"No, fucking hot. You'd do that for me? That's fucking hot. I can still taste you in my mouth. Kiss me, put your tongue inside my mouth, you can taste yourself." She ruffles my hair. "That's not an order. If you want to, fine. If not, fine."

My kiss is my answer. I scour her mouth with my tongue. I'm starving and I can fill my mind or my body. We kiss so long my dick starts to get hard. She feels it against her leg.

"Jesus, Jon," she giggles.

I don't know how to deal with what my body is feeling. I start to kiss her boobs, suck on the nipples, tugging and nipping and licking, doing all the things that ran through my mind when I looked at them earlier. My dick gets harder. Her arm forces its way between us. She's fingering her pussy while I suck at her breasts. I straighten up and walk on my knees to her shoulder. I rub the head of my dick over her nipple while I watch her fingers fly over her clit.

"I'm going to cum on your boob, Jess. I'm going to jerk my dick and cum on your boob while you finger your cunt."

She moans.

"Do you want me to cum on your boob? Shoot my load on your hot little nipple?"

"Yes."

I jerk harder, anxious to cum, anxious to extinguish the fire in my brain.

My orgasm is no less intense than earlier, though at this point there's not a lot of cum. It's liquid and clear and runs rapidly down the side of her breast.

I lick it up. I lick my load off her breast and suck her cum-covered nipple into my mouth as her body begins to buck.

***

Gloria is still getting ready. I think about what I'd seen. Tell myself that it's not possible. If I believe it myself, why then am I sliding the patio door open? I walk down the flagstone path to the adjoining patio. I know the drapes aren't completely closed. I noticed that when I was in their room, before I saw Jon's boxer's lying on the floor, on top of Jess's night shirt, saw her bare butt, and realized the once familiar smell I was trying to identify was the smell of two people who've been fucking. Jon? Jess? No!

I try not to creep. That would look suspicious to the early beach walkers. I walk onto their patio as if I belong there, which I do. I'm paying for it. I casually look past the edge of the partially opened blinds. My heart stops.

Jon's back is to me. Jess, my daughter, is on her back. Jon blocks her view of the patio door. He's jerking off, kneeling beside her. I can't see anything except his bare ass and motion of his arm but it's not hard to figure out what he's doing. I see his ass tighten. I nearly fall over when he bends and begins to lick at his sister's breast.

If she looks over, she'll see.

I watch longer than I should, longer than would be normal. I hate the fact my dick is getting hard. I hurry away, back to my room, back to a wife I haven't touched in months and who I think I should leave.

Gloria is standing in front of a mirror, fussing with her hair. She doesn't look up when I slide the patio door closed.

"Where've you been? You were all insistent that we leave right at 9:30, and yet I'm the one that's ready and you're not," she sniffs at her own reflection. I forgo pointing out she's still wrapped in a towel and that it'll be at least another half-an-hour before she's ready. I simply don't care at this point.

"I was watching the ocean."

"Well, that's why we're at the beach isn't it? To watch the ocean? But, no, we have to run off to look at a bunch of falling down rocks, instead."

"We don't have to go," I tell her. "We can stay here if you want."

"What and miss out on a chance to be lectured by you about the Maya? Or listen to you debate the tour guide over something trivial? No way."

"Is that what you think I'll do?"

"Yes," she harrumphs. "Why should today be any different?"

"I'm sorry you feel that way. Truly. I don't want you to come with me. Stay here. I'll go by myself, or maybe I'll just go exploring. Stay here."

"And deal with two mopey kids, whining about sharing a room and what to get for lunch? I don't think so, buster. I'm coming with you."

"No. I don't want you to. I want a divorce."

I walk past her and leave the room before she can speak.

***

I can't breathe. I try to make my voice work but I can't make any sounds, not that I have any idea what words to say. Mark leaves before I can make my mind work. I sit down on the bed. I always known this day would come. I've never been smart enough for him. I've never been pretty enough for him.

I let the towel fall away, stare at my fake breasts. I hate them. I can't feel anything anymore. The surgeon swore that the way they do the surgery now spares the nerves so my skin, my nipples, would have normal sensation. That was a lie or he fucked something up. I hate them. Mark hates them. He told me he loved my breasts, my real breasts, told me not to have the surgery, not to be silly, but I saw the way he looked at all those fucking bitches at that fucking country club. I saw the way they snickered at my breasts, my accent. I could hear their thoughts,

poor Mark, married to that drab stupid hick from Nebraska.

I fucking hate them. Fuck them. Mark has more money than most of them and I fucking make sure they know it. I hate that fucking club, waste of money. No one in the family golfs. The food is good but who can eat while those catty sluts are snickering at you? I knew he'd leave me. I've told myself that for years, told myself it wouldn't matter, I'd have plenty of money. I'd be fine.