AUTHOR'S NOTE: Part 2 of my other incest story, What She Knows, is in the works, and will be ready for the Winter contest. For now, here is a new story for the Halloween contest. There's lots of exhibitionism and oral, too. Let me know if you'd like more of these kinds of stories, and be sure to vote if you like it!
*
If my head stopped spinning long enough to see the faces of everyone in the room, I would see that they were enjoying the view of my erect penis, still glistening no doubt from a polishing I'd just forgotten.
A moment before, I had been talking to the gorgeous daughter of Jed. Jed was throwing the party, but I'd never met Jed. My nakedness took a backseat, as I struggled to make sense of the new reality.
A girl was staring at my cock. I caught her staring. Her nose was colored black, and whiskers were painted on her face. Cat Lady was listening to Ringo Star prattle on in her ear from across the table. She leaned forward, arms crossed and resting on the table. Her breasts were exposed, and I stared at them too.
Maybe it was she that blew me. Maybe she still tastes me. Still smiling. Yeah, it was her. She spread her legs and showed me her pussy. Not wearing any panties either, apparently.
I didn't move. I didn't want it to be a dream. I watched her rubbing her pussy, almost spilling her cocktail in the process. Ringo could swear she was still listening, so he didn't skip a beat.
I was inside her, I could see it in her eyes. My eyes drifted down the hall behind Cat Lady to another girl standing, holding a red trident and wearing red leather boots and gloves that went up to her elbow. A white-hair man was on his knees licking her pussy. She turned and looked at me, and she looked at my cock, too.
Cat Lady came. A cool breeze touched my penis. This was nice.
A gentleman holding a scotch with one ice cube had his other hand placed over the crotch of a younger lady, who did not seem to mind his hand being there. They both wore masks and, like everyone at the party including me, seemed to be wearing only masks.
She was telling a story and laughing all the while as her new friend fondled her, and both acted like his preoccupation was nothing at all. She leaned in to put her lips to his drink and waited for him to tip the glass. He did not tip the glass, but judging from the quickness of her breath and the way her eyes fixed on his, he was having a go with his free hand. She tried to tip the glass herself by pressing her head down, lips still on the glass. She was not successful, but oh how she tried. All she wanted was just a taste of the Scotch. Just a taste. It was aged 18 years. I don't know how I knew that.
Then he tipped the glass, and she drank. Her face became serious as she looked up at him, and I could tell he paused his activity. I wish I could know what they were saying to each other, because the staring seemed to last forever. The next minute, she was sucking his dick.
And I was still hard. Hard and watching it all. And no one seemed to care.
I thought of stroking myself, but didn't. The agony of anticipation energized me. Made me focus. I could feel the whole room on my penis, and how I wanted the touch of it. The energy made me so hot, I didn't want to waste it by jacking off. And how low class would it have been not to jack of
for
someone. Or on someone.
This was not like me.
This was not like me at all. This was strange. It may have been the mask I wore, or the drugs I took which I could not name. Whatever it was that brought the little captain out into the open air for all to look at, it wasn't nothing.
All around me there were conversations happening over foreplay. Only, it didn't look like foreplay. It just looked like play.
Here there was a young brown-haired fairy tale girl with a red hoodie sitting down on a gentleman's lap at a table where all were playing cards. She granted him no signs that she knew him, but she began rubbing his penis. While she did so, the man straightened up in his chair, raised a bet and the whole table erupted with laughter. If saluting was in order, they'd've done so.
The man reached around his new friend and began to rub her pussy in kind, and she seemed to really like that very much.
I would have begun to masturbate, but I was always told that it was rude to masturbate with company, and was most off color to do so with someone on the couch.
And there was someone on the couch.
I turned to see who (as I'd completely forgotten), just as the young, dark-haired lady to my right leaned her head onto my shoulder to cuddle.
It didn't seem fair that she should caress my chest only, when the little guy was a foot away, ready. It didn't seem right that her touch was so... sweet. It was gentle and thoughtful. She was kind, I sensed. It made my penis ache terribly.
The party patrons were casually dirty-minded, and they wouldn't have minded me being a little dirty with this angel. But what about me? Would I mind?
Would I guide her head down my body until she gave it to me good, and swallowed every drop, only to feel bad for doing so? Every moment that I did nothing made my nerves dance like grease on a hot stove.
Ringo was on his knees, face buried between Cat Lady's thighs. She twirled her drink, but didn't come. Didn't even want to, it seemed like. She barely even seemed to notice his presence, like it was more for his benefit.
But then she looked up at me again. Her eyes were again drawn to my cock. Her eyes focused on it, and stared at it until she began to squint, then closed her eyes and gripped the side of the table. She came, and made Ringo very happy.
The thought seriously began to cross my mind that I was hallucinating everything. Well, everything except, perhaps, the naked girl to my right who's probably in love with me.
I would have thought she was tired, but then I realized she wasn't resting or even cuddling. She was smelling me. And she began to lick my ear. She slid her hand down my chest, running her fingernails along my skin. But just before her hand reached that place I so desperately wanted it to go, she slid past it and caressed my inner thigh.
She stopped, then sat up to look at me. She had on a tiger mask, and I could see her smiling as she continued stroking my leg. She had fairly large breasts and wide hips. She could see that I was trying to get a good look at her, so she stood up. She put her hands gingerly on each of my knees and let me look at her.
Her curves were impeccable, and I realized that her hair was very long. Some of it rested on her breasts.
She leaned in just enough to slide her hands up my legs, and I felt her first touch my balls and stroke them gently. But as she slid her hand slowly up the bottom of the shaft of my then-throbbing penis, I noticed something that made my heart jump into my throat. It was a birthmark on her left breast in the shape of a lotus flower.
The girl stroking my cock was my sister, Jasmine.
I froze. I thought I had to stop her, but so many thoughts ran through my head at once. Where did she come from? Why was she here? If I stopped her, then everyone would wonder why I stopped her, and they might figure out who was actually rubbing my cock.
Did she know that I've seen her birthmark before, because I've seen her naked before? Did she know that I've masturbated to her before, and didn't care how fucked up it probably was because it felt incredible?