Taking
By: Dasoon
Ch. 1
John sat at the kitchen table watching Susan make dinner. His sister Kristen was in the living room watching some garbage reality show, and as appealing as horrible trash tv was he preferred... well anything else. Currently that anything else was his mother's large ass swaying behind a knee length skirt as she cooked. She had married his father a few years ago, after 13 years of his father being single and heartbroken over his wife's, (John's biological mother's) death. Now two years after his father had died, he lived with a family he was never raised with. Make no mistake his biological mother had died before he ever knew her; as such, Susan became more of a mother then she ever was but... she wasn't. It was a distinction that made his cock surge at the sight of her in a negligee, and a distinction that made her leering eyes erotic, teasing.
"Kristen! Dinner!" Susan called out.
"OKAY! One Sec!" Kristen screamed back.
Susan set a bowl of rice on the table followed by a wok filled with stir fry. She met John's eyes and slipped a painted nail covered in sauce between her ruby lips, letting a small groan escape from deep in her throat as her eyes rolled back. Pulling the finger out, she left the tip on her bottom lip basking in the taste, eyes closed. The finger now showed a tinge of red as the lipstick had rubbed off. The sound from the living room died and Susan opened her eyes, locking them with John's once more. Sliding around the table, she rubbed against his back with gratuity and pulled the seat out next to him.
Kristen walked in clad in a knee length t-shirt, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, her slight stomach shaking as her substantial boobs bounced. Susan dropped into her seat launching her thirty-four triple D's into a springing yo-yo. Kristen sat across the table and began plating her food. John was making a shitty show of 'looking at the water jug', while he ogled Susan, which of course fooled no one. It was easier to pretend that Kristen's tits always bounced when she walked, that Susan didn't know why John watched her cook, or that John wasn't sliding his right hand on Susan's lap.
"How was your day J?" Kristen prodded.
"Busy day at the restaurant, but nothing the managers couldn't handle." He started plating with his left hand. "Had to order some extra produce, and call in an extra body last minute but... yeah. Nothing out of the norm." His right-hand messaged Susan's thigh over the skirt. Being ambidextrous had its perks.
"Extra hand? Guess my big brother can tell people how to cook but can't do it himself." A sneer breaking from the corner of her unnaturally natural lips.
"Well I'd rather not step on toes. But I guess someone that does art online wouldn't know shit about teamwork" snarked John.
"You mean running a business alone is harder than with help?" Kristen sneered getting into the familiar volley.
John's hand was moving slowly along the inside of Susan's thigh, never moving past the hem of the skirt nor the apex of her legs.
"Enough. Food's getting cold and I didn't cook it only for you to ignore it." Susan barked half heartedly lost somewhere... else.
With that Kristen met John's eyes, glanced to his right arm, before smirking and moving to eat. They ate the delicious food quietly, John's hand moving through various modes; it switched between a gentle stroke, to a rub, to a caress barely touching the skirt. Susan's breathing, ever so smoothly slipped into an uneven rhythm with the occasional pause, hid behind a mouth full of food and a half-stifled moan.
After dinner Kristen went to her room to paint herself and dress as a character she'd designed earlier in the day; most likely while watching trash tv, (her largest inspiration John had no doubt). Susan filled the sink with water and readied the drying rack, while John cleared the table and stored the extra food in the fridge. Once done he moved to the sink, slowly rolling his sleeves up to his bicep, Susan had a new set of music on as the old music started to grate at the mind. They usually only did dishes once a day, as none of them were home for lunch and it didn't make sense to wash three sets of dishes and two sets of cooking pans between each meal. John's hands pushed through suds, and he felt Susan press to his back. She made dinner so he washed dishes, it was only fair; it also meant that she wouldn't ruin her nails. All of which was true but, John suspected, most importantly to her, she could get revenge on him. Her breath pushed against his neck, breathy and slow.
"That wasn't very nice. You have to own your... mistakes, you know."
With barely any contact she dragged a red nail across the bulge in his pants. Ten inches of forearm thick cock pulsed to a beat his heart raced to keep up with.
"How long do I have to wait... For you to drill me..." She slid her other hand around his body and across his chest. "...a well in the backyard?"
They had a shared garden in the yard that they'd bonded over years ago, and when they started it, he'd said he'd make a well for her there. It was impractical and a joke now that they were older; well he was older, she was as young as the day he'd met her, a perk in her step and jiggle in her attitude.
Precum started to leak from his monster, and she slipped from his back letting him feel her tits excuse themselves from his comfort. She moved to the drying rack and dried the dish that sat there.
"Hurry up slowpoke, ain't got all day" she teased with a smirk and a look that made the monster beat within him ever stronger.
"Yep. Sorry."
***
John passed Kristen's room hearing a conversation Kristen held with the camera, as she went over some detail of her body art she somehow hadn't covered yet. Entering his room between his sister and mother's, he tossed off his clothes, and went to his bed searching for a custom fleshlight Susan had gotten for him last Christmas. A normal family would have found this awkward, theirs simply didn't acknowledge what he would do with it, or how they knew he needed it. (They didn't normally make fleshlights big enough for him.) Stroker in hand, lube running down its surface, he moved a cloth from the old 'mirror' on the wall between his and his sister's room. Moving back to the bed he started to slide the sleeve over the top of his monstrous cock, as he heard a buzzing start in his mothers room. It ebbed and flowed as she very openly started swearing into the wall.
"Fuckin pound my nasty cunt John." Susan moaned relentlessly.
*Shlick**Shlick**Shlick* Her sopping pussy squelched through the walls.
"Wreck it. Cripple me with your horse cock. Godddddd"
*Shlick**Shlick**Shlick*
"Fuck! Break me over my bed, Fuck me over the kitchen table. God Damn Fuck THE SHIT OUT OF ME!"
*Shlick**Shlick**Shlick**Shlick**Shlick**Shlick*
This continued for about two hours, her voice trailed on till with a scream she orgasmed for the second time before falling silent. John launched his third round of jizz into the toy which long overflowed with fluid and rolled himself out of bed. Across the room in front of the 'mirror' he pulled free of the toy and let sperm flow out into a funnel; which neatly distributed it into a wineglass which he hoisted as he walked from the room. Passing Kristen's room on his way to the bathroom, he set the glass down in front of her door, and placed his toy outside the bathroom.
