My eyes dart between Chris and then Jase, who I hope catches on to my lie and jumps in to play his part.
Rubbing a hand over his belly – which by the way, I can see shifting underneath his movements, like a rolling inchworm over ridged landscape – he shakes his head.
“Ah man. I think the tryptophan has gotten me, too. And since I have a pretty bad case of jetlag from my trip, I think some shut eye will due me some good. How about I stay and help you clean up, Cecelia? Then we can both rest up and head to the bowling alley later.”
Chris gives a growl of disapproval, trying to figure out what’s going on and whether he should believe us or not.
“Dude,” my brother laments, clearly not good with this change of plans. He places the dishes in the sink and lays a thick hand on Jase’s shoulder. “You don’t have to help clean up, bro. But I get you might need some rest. That’s cool, man. I’ll tell my folks.”
Jase’s eyes find mine as my brother loads up his hands with plates of pie, a guilty look of collusion shared between us.
My brother turns his head back to address Jase. “Feel free to take my old bedroom, man. That bed is still super comfy. And you, little sister…”
Chris wags a finger at me as I open one of the cupboards to extract the biggest bottle of Aleve I’ve ever seen.
“I hope you feel better. I want you to have fun tonight.”
Oh, I think there’s a good chance of that.
I nearly choke as I pretend to go through the motion of opening the bottle of pills I don’t really need, and watch Chris walk out the door. All the while my body reacting to the thrill that Jase and I are about to do something very naughty and very clandestine.
It’s another agonizing thirty minutes before everyone’s done with their desserts and are bundled up for their trek to the local lanes.
When the last person is out the front door and it shuts behind them, I barely have time to hit the Start button on the dishwasher when Jase pounces, the two words he says pushing my own start button.
“Bedroom,now.”
Iliterally stalk her up the stairs as we stop on the second-floor landing, Chris’s old bedroom is to the right down the hallway. There’s another stairway heading up to the loft where CC’s room has always been.
CC grabs my hand to pull me toward Chris’s room, but I stop her, shaking my head and lifting my eyes toward her bedroom.
“I spent a lot of time in Chris’s room when I was in high school fantasizing about you up in your room. That’s where I want you.” I wiggle my eyebrows suggestively, earning a blush from her already flushed, pink cheeks.
One of my most vivid fantasies I had of CC when I was a teen was me quietly leaving Chris’s bedroom in the middle of the night and treading up the stairs to her room. I’d open the door to find her lying in her bed wearing nothing but a slip of a nightgown. I’d walk to the edge of her bed in my bare feet, my cock protruding from my waistband, aching to be touched by her.
She’d sit up, shredding the blankets from her lap, and scoot to the end of the bed. Her fingers would reach out to grasp at my hard flesh, pulling the material down so I could spring free. I’d slide the edge of her nightie’s silky material up to her waist, exposing the bare skin of her creamy thighs, my knuckles skimming all that softness. Her moan skittering around the room.
Bunching the nightie in my fist, I’d find her without panties and I’d bury my nose in the scent of her arousal suffusing my nostrils. My finger would find the wet center of her pussy and I’d bring her to a beautiful orgasm.
“What are you thinking about right now?” CC asks, jarring me from my dirty and probably criminal thoughts of teenage Cecelia.
She lays down on her bed, wiggling out of her shirt, staring up at me with a sexy smile alighting her face. Holy shit, this is so much better than any fantasy I could ever conjure up inside my filthy brain.
My finger circles her belly button as she lifts her hips in what looks like some kind of yoga move. One called “fuck me now and don’t stop ‘til I drop from exhaustion.”
The corner of my mouth quirks up as I drag my fingers down the flat of her belly. I’ve already divested my uniform and am left in my dress pants and t-shirt. When I reach the top of her skirt, I make like I’m about to pull it down, but instead, push all the filmy material up so it bunches around her waist.
“I was thinking about you as a teenager. How I had fantasies about fucking you right here in this very bed. Taking your virginity as you screamed my name so loud it woke up everyone in the house.”
“Oh my God, Jase,” she moans, the sound zinging right to my dick, which is already hard as a fucking rock. “Why didn’t you ever say anything? I would’ve…”
CC shyly turns her head, as if embarrassed for asking and covers her face with an arm. It doesn’t hide the flush across her chest and neck.Cute and sexy.
I hover over her, my hands on either side of her head, our mouths nearly touching, the heat of her body radiating through mine.
Cupping her chin, I turn her face to me, nudging her arm so it falls to her side. My tongue darts out and runs across the seam of her lips, the puff of her gasp fanning out between us.
“You would’ve what, Cecelia? You would’ve let me do this to you?”
