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Author’s Note: All characters portrayed are consenting adults over the age of 18.
This story is a slow burn for sure, but don’t worry. We’re on the train to Horny Town in all the best ways. Love ya. Don’t forget to eat your vegetables.
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A Basket Full Of Eggs
“Wake up!”
I felt a sharp pang in my back. I jolted awake and found myself lying face down on my bed, peacefully drooling into my pillow. My sister sat straddling my back and emphatically poked me with her finger.
“Can you drive me to the store, please?”
I groaned. “Alice, it’s like 8 in the morning, dude.”
She poked harder. “I want hot fries!”
“I really wish you had your own car sometimes.”
I rolled over on my back, pushing her off me. My sister hopped off the bed and scrambled across my room to the open doorway. Once there she turned and blinked at me from behind her thick, horn-rimmed glasses. I had to admit she looked quite adorable this morning in her baggy sweater and tight-fitted leggings. It made me want to do things to her–er–I mean FOR her.
“Didn’t I just get you a whole two bags of hot fries last night?” I asked.
“Ate ’em.”
“Ah, hell.”
I rolled out of bed and reached around for my shoes. Alice waited by the doorway, twiddling her fingers unconsciously. Her dark brown hair hung around her mousy face in unkempt strands.
“Alright, Bedhead,” I said to her. “Let’s make this REAL quick. If Mom catches me buying you junk food before breakfast the jig is up.”
“Thanks, Devin. You’re the bestest.”
I drove my sister to the gas station and bought her a bag of her favorite fries while she sat patiently in the car. Some fifteen minutes later we headed back home in my beat-up old Toyota. I glanced over at Alice in the passenger seat and shook my head in disgust. She clutched the bag of fries to her chest and assaulted her face with them, shoving fistful after fistful into her crumb-riddled mouth. Her cheeks were fat like a chipmunk’s.
“You,” I said, “are a glutton. Watching you eat gives me nightmares.”
She swallowed and belched. “You’re rude and judgmental.”
I glanced down at her chest for a quick peek but I couldn’t see much beneath the fabric.
“You think there’s gonna be more racket tonight?” I asked.
“Doubt it,” she said, reaching into the half-empty bag. “Mom broke up with her boyfriend last night.”
“What? Seriously?”
“Yup.” Another fistful went down the gullet. “I heard them arguing and then he left angry. I dunno what it was about though. I just heard Mom yell at him to go away.”
“Huh.”
Our Mom’s boyfriend, Rich Delaney, was a 40-something man with a white trash personality and a beer gut. Honestly, I didn’t mind that they were splitting up. While the activities of the other night had admittedly been exciting, there was no denying he was a bit of a creep and I didn’t exactly love the idea of him hanging around my sister.
“Have you seen Mom yet this morning?” Alice asked me.
“Nah.”
“Well anyway, I’m all out of hot fries.”
I looked down at the bag in her hand and it was empty. “Holy Jesus in heaven, Alice.”
Moments later I pushed open the front door and we walked inside. As soon as we entered the living room we could hear an eerie wail echoing through the house. It was the sound of someone crying.”Is that Mom?” I asked.
“Who else would it be?” said Alice.
My sister and I followed the sound into the kitchen. Our mother was sitting at the table, her face buried in her hands, sobbing inconsolably. Her hair was still unwashed and she hadn’t changed out of her nightgown yet. It was very unlike our mother to be undressed at this hour, but this morning was different. She was mourning a relationship.
“The bastard,” she cried.
“What happened, Mom?” I asked.
She heaved out another sob and lowered her hands, looking up at us with a tortured expression, her eyes red and puffy with tears.
“He was cheating on me,” she said. “With another woman, and he LIED about it.”
“Seriously?”
She nodded, her face scrunching up in a grief-stricken landscape of regret.
“How do you know that?” asked Alice. My sister’s hands were clenched into fists. I was getting angry too. Rage welled up inside me like a brewing earthquake.
“His phone,” Mom said. She covered her face in her hands again and resumed sobbing. “I looked at his phone. While he was in the shower.”
“Oh, goddammit,” I said. “Mom, I’m sorry. That’s really terrible.”
“I know.”
“Rat bastard!” Alice shouted. “Warned you about him!” My sister turned and bolted out of the kitchen. We heard her footsteps stomping up the old staircase and her bedroom door slammed shut. The house shook with the force of it.
“She’ll be okay,” I said. “She’s angry on your behalf.”
I pulled up a chair and joined my mother at the table, sitting down beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. I held her close. Gradually the sobbing became less intense and her convulsions less violent. She kıbrıs escort leaned her head into mine and stroked my chest with her fingers.
“Sorry I didn’t make breakfast,” Mom said, her voice still trembling.
I kissed her on the cheek. “Oh, don’t worry about that, Mom. We’re adults, we can make our own breakfast.”
She pulled away from me and looked around at the messy table. It was covered in dishes and coffee mugs. “I forgot to swing by Walgreens and pick up Alice’s Ritalin too. I’m just a bad mom all around.”
“No you’re not,” I insisted. “You’re the PERFECT mom. Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise.”
She looked into my eyes and smiled lovingly. Even in such a damaged state, she was still a beautiful woman. Her hair, dark like my sister’s, hung loosely around her elegant face and glimmering green eyes. Her skin was pale and smooth, her frame slender and motherly. Her legs crossed together in her robe.
“Thank you, sweetie,” she said. “But I may not be the perfect wife. First your father runs off, and now I’m stuck with this. There must be something wrong with me.”
I laid a hand on her shoulder and rubbed it with tender affection. “Mom, the only thing wrong with you is your inexplicable taste in men. Forget about those guys. We just need to stick together as a family.”
She rested her hand over mine and squeezed it. “You’re right, Devin.”
Mom leaned in and wrapped her arms around me, enveloping me in her womanly warmth. I felt her breasts press firmly against my chest and tried my best not to think about that. This was no time for getting horny.
“Go check on your sister,” she breathed in my ear. “I don’t want her getting too upset.”
“Sure thing, Mom. Love you.”
She kissed me on the cheek and smiled. “Such a handsome and caring young man. I love you too, honeybun.”
A moment later I knocked on my sister’s bedroom door as gently as possible. It was ajar as always, but I wasn’t about to barge in. “Allie, can I come inside?”
“Go away!” she bellowed from within.
“Mom just wanted me to make sure you were okay. Sorry for bothering you.”
I turned and started back for the kitchen.
“Don’t ACTUALLY go away, you shitwit,” I heard her holler. “That was just a conversational device. You’re supposed to come in and comfort me anyway.”
“Ah jeez, Alice.”
I pushed the door open. She was pacing around in her room like a caged animal, stomping on the carpet in her stocking feet. She looked a bit like a Peanuts character in her ill-fitting clothes and thick, foggy glasses. She was 5’2″ and petite, and yet her sweater was an XXL. It hung limply off her tiny frame. I could swear she never tried anything on before buying it, but that was Alice. Never one to be self-conscious.
“That chauvinistic pig,” she was saying. “I find it baffling how you managed to turn out so decent, given the species of man she habitually shelters.”
“Just forget about it. You wanna watch something to take your mind off it?”
She froze in her tracks and shot me a hard look. Her scowl cracked into a sneer. The mischief was back in her eyes now and I wasn’t sure if I liked the idea brewing in her diabolical little noggin.
“You know what? No,” she said. “I have a notion to start a commotion.”
“What?”
“The rat bastard!” she spouted and ran out the door, leaving me alone in her messy bedroom. I sighed and wondered if I should chase after her again. But in less than a minute she reappeared, cradling a wicker basket full of eggs in her arms. She’d been gifted the basket for Easter one year and had no doubt just pulled a couple dozen eggs from the kitchen refrigerator undetected.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“We’re going to egg his house,” she declared. “This is now a military operation.”
I shook my head at her wearily. “That’s a really bad idea, Alice.”
She pouted. “Oh come on, Devin, don’t be cowardly. I’m told that’s generally perceived as unattractive.”
Well, shit.
“Seriously, Alice?”
She stuck out her lower lip and glowered at me. “I know where he lives and I’m going there with or without you. A half-decent brother wouldn’t let me go by myself. After all, I am a defenseless woman.”
She turned and strolled out the door again. I reluctantly followed suit. My sister couldn’t have been as innocent as she seemed, I thought, for this was all very clever. She was tapping into my masculine, teenage sense of honor. If I didn’t want to be perceived as unattractive, or un-brotherly, I would have to go with her, right? Is that why I did it?
Nah. I probably just wanted to egg the man’s house.
A No-Account Mom-Diddler
My fingers danced nervously over the steering wheel as I drove us into Rich’s neighborhood. I didn’t like the look of this part of town. Alice sat and stared ahead at the road in determined silence, clutching the basket of eggs in her lap. She looked like a mother goose guarding a nest.
“Son of a bitch probably lives on food stamps,” I said, glancing around at the kırıkkale escort rows of rundown houses.
“Let’s not resort to classist stereotyping,” she answered. “Really Devin, I’m surprised at you.”
“Sorry Allie, I just heard a guy at work say that. Sounded like a very MASCULINE and ATTRACTIVE sort of thing to say.”
“You are like, an ACTUAL idiot.” She adjusted her glasses and all I could see were the blazing reflections of the sun in her thick, foggy lenses. “Here it is! The last house on the corner. 5370 Tennessee Street.”
“Well, shit…”
I pulled up to a particularly shabby-looking shack with a weathered paint job and parked on the street. Alice rolled down her window and peered at it. Her side was facing the house.
“That’s it, alright. Look at the state of his patio, for crying out loud!” she said, pointing.
I shut off the engine. We stepped out into the morning sun, carefully approaching the small, white house in hushed silence. I saw no car in the driveway so I figured we were probably good. Really not wise in my youth, I gotta admit.
“Look at those bottles,” she hissed at me. The patio table was covered in empty beer bottles that piled and lay about. Cigarette butts piled up in various ashtrays. The scene was rather bleak. “That Mr. Delaney is nothing but a drunk.”
“Keep your voice down,” I whispered. “Let’s be quick about this.”
We chucked a few eggs at the place. They splattered against the fence and the sliding glass door and I felt this was all rather underwhelming. Not the glorious military operation I had imagined.
“You think that’s enough?” I asked. My sister was rearing back and preparing to launch another projectile, one eye squinted shut.
“We still have all those eggs left,” she said.
She pitched it and it tumbled through the air. At that moment, the sliding glass door cracked open and my stomach just about dropped out of my ass.
“Shit!” I said.
“There he is,” she grumbled.
The door slid open and there he was indeed, the rat bastard himself. Rich was a pudgy middle-aged man in a wife-beater shirt and boxers. His graying hair was jostled and receding. He looked to be nursing a morning hangover. An egg shattered against the wall right beside him just as he emerged and he flinched sharply.
“What the fuck?” he grunted. His face was grim and stubbly, the sad reflection of a once attractive man.
“Alice,” I hissed, preparing to make a dash for the car.
Rich spotted us in the yard and blinked in vague recognition. He knew who we were, of course, but we’d never really had a conversation. The guy was a bit dull for conversations.
“What the hell are you little shits doing here?” he hollered. “What are you doing to my house?”
“It’s a misunderstanding!” I called back.
“It most certainly is not,” Alice rebuked. “We came here to vandalize your home.”
He stepped forward into the sun and crossed his arms together. “I can see that. You better get your asses off my property before I get mad about it.”
“You’re just a sex man!” Alice cried, pointing an accusing finger. “And you’re a no-account mom-diddler, and you never do your laundry, and… I think you’re just BAD, Mr. Delaney!”
“What the fuck is this little piss-ant talking about?” he asked me. He looked more confused than anything.
“She’s upset because you broke our Mom’s heart,” I told him.
His shaggy features cracked into a grin and he waved it off. “Ah, hell. You tell your momma I was just taking her for a little ride around the block, ya hear? Nothin’ personal.”
“You broke her heart,” I repeated. My hand clutched onto my sister’s tightly. Her palm was sweaty. “You slept with another woman behind her back and lied about it, you piece of shit.”
His eyes narrowed at me. “Are you lookin’ for a fight, little man?”
I saw him reach for one of the empty beer bottles that lay scattered on the patio table. I tugged at Alice’s wrist, sensing danger.
“You got a loud fuckin mouth for such a limp-wristed little bitch. As for your mother, she knew DAMN well what it was and what I’m like. Now get the hell out of here, you’re trespassing.”
“You’re never gonna get to have sex with me like what you said, you dirty man!” my sister added.
Richard stared back at her in disbelief. Collecting his thoughts, he grabbed an empty bottle off the table and pointed it at me threateningly.
“That right there is slander,” he grumbled. “Now you’ve really fucking done it.”
He chucked the bottle at us. Alice shrieked and bolted back into the passenger seat in a panicked fright. I piled in after her and jumped behind the wheel, fiddling for my keys. The bottle shattered in the street.
“Dumbass fuckin kids!” Richard hollered. “How do ya like that, ya freaks?”
“Alice, close the door!” I shouted. She sat up and slammed the passenger door shut before cowering back down again. But the window was still open and the next bottle came tumbling through it, shattering against the dashboard. I turned the keys in kırklareli escort the ignition and my old car sputtered back to life with a reluctant lurch.
Meanwhile, Richard was reaching for another bottle.
“You and that lil’ Daria-lookin-ass-bitch better get the hell off my property before I REALLY give you something to cry over.”
He picked up another empty bottle and poised himself to fling it.
Alice stuck her head out the window. She adjusted her glasses and squinted at him in the harsh sunlight.
“I’m more of a Dora the Explorer than a Daria, if you simply MUST resort to belittling comparisons.”
“Alice! Look out!” I cried.
She was rolling up the window even as I said it. The beer bottle shattered against it into a million shards, leaving a spider-like indent in the glass. I floored the gas peddle and sped out of there.
As I barreled down Main Street in the direction of home I felt my anger melt away and give in to remorse. I looked over at Alice. She was sitting in infuriated silence, grinding her teeth, shaking visibly. Her tight little fists were balled up at her knees and trembling with impotent rage.
“He was a very bad man!” she barked. Her glasses fell down on her nose and she pushed them back up. “Nothing but a trifling chauvinist and a coward. He didn’t care for Mom at all! He was just a meandering SEX MAN.”
“I’m sorry, Alice,” I said, reaching over and gently rubbing her shoulder. “This was objectively a bad idea and I shouldn’t have let it get this far–“
“Don’t belittle my contributions, you piddling stooge! I was the brains of this operation.”
“Sorry, I know. Ah jeez, Alice.”
She crossed her arms together and stared at the road with a manic rage in her eyes. “He was just… ugh! A very very VERY bad man!”
The Morning Hornies
When we got home our mother was already gone for work. I tossed my keys onto my bedside table in a daze and sat down wearily. My sister filed into my bedroom after me. She was pulling her sweater up over her head.
“Do you need to use the shower?” she asked. “Because I sure do.”
“Not right now.”
She got stuck for a second as she was tugging it off, revealing her flat tummy and tiny pink belly button. Then she yanked the sweater free with a final grunt, knocking her glasses off. They tumbled to the carpet.
“Shit!” she squeaked.
“Alice, stay still. I’ll get ’em for you.”
“Devin?”
She squinted and scanned the room for them in vain. A tight pink bra hugged her chest, bunching her breasts together. The outlines of her nipples were giving me ideas. I picked up her glasses and placed them gently back on her freckled face. She blinked and smiled at me.
“You don’t regret doing it, do you?” she asked.
“Well–“
“Cuz I sure don’t. He was just a cheating mom-diddler.”
She planted a small kiss on my nose and danced off down the hallway to the bathroom. I considered the wisdom of telling our mother about this and decided she didn’t need to know. This had been a secret military operation. Highly sensitive.
I heard the water run. My sister was humming sweetly to herself in the shower. I swallowed and pictured the spraying water cascading over her naked body. Why couldn’t I just be normal? My dick swelled up in my pants and my heartbeat quickened. I was getting the morning hornies.
“Food will help,” I said to myself. “Food is better than sex. Hot take.”
After a few minutes I strolled out into the hallway, my hands buried in my pockets, and thought about what to make for breakfast. At that moment the bathroom door cracked open and a cloud of fresh steam wafted from it.
“Ladadadada,” Alice was singing.
I froze in surprise. My sister’s buck-naked body waltzed out into the hallway with her sweet little back turned to me. Her slender, petite frame, peach-colored skin, and round ass cheeks filled my head with unbrotherly ideas. Her bare buttocks swayed with each step like a tantalizing bowl of jello. But like, if jello was sexy.
“Erm… Allie–” I sputtered.
She swung around and saw me. Her eyes widened and she lit up into a shrieking laugh.
“Whoops! Mom forgot to wash the towels,” she squeaked. Her damp, shoulder-length hair stuck to her face and her hands shot up to her mouth to contain the giggles. Those beautiful perky breasts of hers danced and wobbled. My eyes darted down to her bush and the flatness of her tummy.
“Um, that’s okay, Alice. Holy shit.”
She snorted and cackled, then turned and skipped down the hallway to her bedroom.
“Sorry if that made you horny!” she called, disappearing inside.
I reached down to my crotch and felt a brewing stiffness. There were far too many emotions going on this morning. Far too many things to work a guy up.
I lay in my bed seconds later with my pants down around my ankles and my hand gripped around my bare dick, stroking vigorously. I thought about the way my sister’s tits jiggled against her chest when she laughed. I thought about pulling up some porn, or even some family photos, and then she texted me.
Alice: i’m still changing in my room if you wanna come masturbate
I gulped, wondering if I should come up with some sort of protective, brotherly rejection. But we were already pretty deep in the soup at that point. Might as well embrace it.
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