"Does it... Really... Anymore..."
......
That morning was tense. Jeff and I spoke but did not get out of our bed, technically my bed but since we had been discovered together in it... Eventually dad came in.
"Could you both get dressed and come downstairs."
"You know dad, if I am going to die, I would just prefer to do it here in my room in my bed with Jeff holding me."
"Janet don't be melodramatic, I am only upset because I love you and this is not right for you, for either of you," and he left closing the door.
I saw the crack immediately, dad was handing it to us. Why? Maybe, it made sense. I knew mom's argument, the 'Cliff's Notes' version was 'what will people, meaning all those other people that we know and interact with, think.' That was mom's cross to bear not mine. To be obsessed with what her so called friends thought. But dad was saying that we could present a logical argument and prevail. Well, we were their only children and they had much invested in us.
I was shaky getting dressed, but Jeff was my rock. Always holding me up, at times literally. Once I was 'presentable' we walked down the hallway to his room so that he could get dressed. As he opened his closet door I dropped to my knees and took my lover's penis in my hands.
"Janet..."
"Shhhh, if I am to die, or if we are to be cast out when we go to offer ourselves up for judgement momentarily... Jeff my love... I just want this to be my final act on this earth. If I die then I want to die with your spunk in my mouth."
I am certain that at moment he was thinking that dad was right saying that I had a penchant for the melodramatic. But I am even more certain he was way too smart to say it. He loved me. Oh, and if he had argued the point I just might have changed my mind.
I did not change my mind, I lovingly licked his glans. That oh so sensitive part of Jeff that had been inside of me last night. I put my mouth around his organ and tried to suck his entire body into me. I settled for pushing my throat upon his head and thereby blocking my own source of oxygen with his wonderous combination of hard steel and soft flesh.
Push, push, breathe. Push, push, push, breathe. I was in heaven. If I were to die, I would want to die with Jeff's penis in my throat. But that would be so selfish. I love Jeff and I know he loves me. I would not guilt him with that trip. He held my head pushing me onto him, but also releasing so that I could breathe. I gently played with his balls, and my lips went back and forth on his lovely shaft several times before he came inside of me.
I rejoiced in my reward, a mouth filled with my big brother's semen, and he responded to his orgasm by running his fingers through my hair again. Love. That is what I had here, true love. Jeff got dressed quickly and I kissed him mouth on mouth, his tasting me and him together never phased him. That so turned me on. I imagined Meatloaf singing, "all lubed up with no place to go," if only we had more time.
We went slowly down the oaken stairs with the tasteful runner, two condemned prisoners walking to their own execution. When we arrived in the kitchen the chief executioner was busily making espresso on his latest toy, possibly to ease the hangover of his assistant executioner sitting at her beloved table, once again I felt guilty for putting her through all of this.
We stood in the breakfast room and we waited, was the delay intentional. Time to make us think or time so that he or she could think of what to say, or incidental time just because he could only make one cup of espresso at a time and there were four of us. Our mother Jill Jameson sitting at the breakfast table, our father Jack making coffee. Notice the penchant for the letter 'J', yeah Jeff and I are unusual, but then the apple doesn't fall all that far from the tree.
As our father approached with four of those tiny cups of strong coffee on proper saucers Jeff looked into my eyes. Or rather right through them, staring directly into my soul. I returned his deep gaze. He leaned in and kissed me, so deeply and passionately in front of our parents before we sat down on the wrought iron chairs around the matching breakfast table.
"A very good strategy Jeff," I thought to myself. Setting out the parameters before the first word was spoken.
We agreed on so much more than we disagreed on. We were all grown-ups, I was 19 Jeff was 20. We were fully capable of making our own good, or bad, decisions. For some odd reason neither mom nor dad could point out a specific way in which their son or daughter were not ideal human beings. A way in which either was significantly wanting as a friend, a potential lover, a soulmate or a lifetime partner. A way that a future husband or wife could find their child lacking.
So, I voiced the natural question which was, "If we are each the ideal example of a boy and a girl, and we were now to go out and find others to be our life mates, won't we just be judging and quite likely judging unfavorably all those others against our ideal images. Those two perfect images each of us had tasted the fruit of last night, and oh so many times before. Why spend time searching for and maybe never finding another who lives up to that standard?"
They were not shocked or appalled. Our body language, the way Jeff constantly held my hand, looked at me before answering questions, his deference to me the few times that I actually opined. That spoke volumes to them. Our casual affection, the way we were surprised of but not ashamed at being discovered told them that this was serious, no mere infatuation. Their silence in the face of our, mostly Jeff's, rational and well-reasoned answers to their many questions was deafening.
I already knew mom's primary concern was what would the other people they interact with think. But why should they think anything at all. We were not a part of their social circle, if we moved to Clearwater or Orlando or West Palm, even to Homestead we could live as man and wife in total anonymity.
"Honey, meet the Jamesons they just moved in next door," our new neighbors would say.
Dad brought up genetics, as if that did not obsessively consume my waking thoughts already. Jeff and I shouldn't have a child together. Duh. Well at least not one that recombined our amazingly similar DNA. But we could figure that part out later. Jeff was a semester from his Associates at Miami-Dade and I was three. There were many things on our itinerary before providing John and Jill with their requisite two point four grandchildren. For instance a discussion with them on the fact that there were 25 other perfectly good letters in the alphabet and many fine potential baby names that did not start with the letter 'J'.
Thankfully dad soon announced that they had to get going. There was that matter of an airplane that needed to be in Montego Bay by Monday. Mom said that we needed to have a more serious, more in depth discussion when they returned. Oh joy. But we had a reprieve of 72 hours let's see broken down that would be roughly 35 hours of hot sex, 27 hours of blissful sleep in each other's loving arms, 8 hours of romantic meals together, and if we could fit it in maybe 2 hours of serious discussions about our current situation.
......
We watched them leave, and my angst was somewhat alleviated by Jeff, as he unbuttoned my Levi's, pulling them to the kitchen floor. Then he picked me up placing me on the cool granite of the island. Kissing my belly and my thighs he removed my panties, partly by his hand, partly with his teeth. He tasted my wetness as it leaked from within me. His head then rising to mine to kiss me, sharing my taste with me.
Jeff returned to my folds, nibbling on my labia, licking the spaces between them. Darting his tongue inside and softly sucking on my pleasure center. Exploring my inner being with a finger, then two while nibbling and licking. Jeff inside of me, making me explode in a flash of white light, letting me cool down just a little. Bringing back the intensity, turning my cunt to soup and my knees to jelly.
Savoring me, removing his pants and entering me fucking me. Slowly at first and then with increasing intensity until my third joined his orgasm, long and hard on the cool granite surface. Jeff kissing my neck, my chest my breasts in the afterglow.
There would be more to come, the condemned sought out all of the places that they had not experienced before. Welcoming blissful exhaustion before turning to the more serious matter at hand. What to do about mom and dad.
Their final position before leaving had not been something draconian. That we should try to find others whom we were not related to that would be the equal or a close approximation of each other. I could give it a semi-honest shot knowing full well that nobody would rock my world like Jeff already had. Jeff didn't even try, I like to think that is because once you have seen Paris you cannot return to the farm.
There was also the matter of experience and the difference between boys and girls. I know that I was not Jeffery's first, he had a point of reference. I was the best of two maybe three and he saw no need to keep looking. He would never wonder what else was out there. Jeff was my first, he truly knew every single thing about me and he loved me, either in spite of or because of what he knew. I didn't really need to find better because I knew that better was just an abstraction and not a real possibility.
......
Lisa Ann
