tagIncest/TabooIn The Grace of Liars

In The Grace of Liars

bymonkeyman057©

Any constructive feedback is welcome. Incest is a pervasive theme throughout the story so if that's not your bag then please find another story to enjoy that suits your tastes. This story is being published on Literotica.com. If you find it elsewhere, it's very likely because it was stolen.

*

It was a beautiful day. The sun was out, there was scarcely a cloud in the sky and the mercury was just barely touching seventy six degrees. I had the top down on my Jeep, weaving my way through traffic to get to the mall. And yet, in spite of all of that, I was in a right foul mood.

My girlfriend Jennifer and I had been fighting for weeks now and there seemed no end in sight. Not only was she turning me inside out emotionally but I was walking around with a seemingly perpetual case of blue balls that no amount of jerking off would fix for long. Sexual frustrations aside, my life was in turmoil as long as she and I were fighting. That's why I was headed to the mall. I figured a large bottle of her favorite (and very expensive, might I add) perfume would be a suitable peace offering. We needed a reset and she was never the one to initiate that kind of thing -- it had to be me. It always had to be me.

I had just pulled into the parking lot when I got the call. I'm not sure why I even answered. I have a strict personal policy of ignoring calls from numbers that I don't recognize. I certainly didn't recognize this one. I swiped the green button on my phone and held it to my ear.

"Hello?" I said, half way expecting to hear a recorded response.

"Chris, it's Andrea." Her voice sounded distant, like she was talking through a tin can but it instantly cheered me up to hear from her.

My cousin Andrea and I had been close growing up. So close that we were pretty well inseparable. That was right up until her mother moved them out of state for a job offer. We still talked on the phone every few months but lately Andi had been busy with school and work while I had been busy trying to keep my relationship on track. I was really glad to hear from her. I needed my old friend right about then.

"Hey, Andi! What's this number you're calling from? I almost didn't answer."

"Yeah, I know, I didn't think you would. It's a go-phone. My old one got stolen about a week ago. I've been trying to get in touch with you but you wouldn't answer."

"Sorry, Andi. If I'd have known -"

"I know; forget it. Just keep this number for now, it'll be a while before I can get another one. Chris, I need your help with something." She was quick, to the point, and all business. There was clearly something very wrong.

"Yeah, sure. What can I do?" I asked.

"Aunt Marjorie mortgaged the camp. She hasn't been making the payments and the bank is going to foreclose. She's going to lose the camp, Chris."

The camp was our childhood stomping ground. We spent summers there together as kids and got into no end of trouble. It had been in the family for untold years. When my mothers parents died, the camp passed to my Aunt Marjorie. No one really understood why it went to her in the will but it didn't really matter. She didn't horde the place. Rightfully, she didn't really feel it was hers alone. Aunt Marjorie, my mother Terri, and Andrea's mother Janice all shared the camp, and we all spent time there together. That came to an end after my mother died in a drunk driving accident when I was sixteen. Neither me nor Andrea really knew why but no one ever went back to the camp after that. I tried a few times but Marjorie would put me off, telling me it was being renovated, or she didn't have time to meet me to drop off the key. She came up with any and every reason to keep me away from there, so eventually I just gave up.

"When?" I asked.

"The foreclosure process has started. Aunt Marjorie was served notice to vacate yesterday."

"How much time do we have?"

"I don't know. I talked to the bank but all they do is demand the money. They won't tell me anything because I'm not Marjorie, and Marjorie won't call them because she's too ashamed. Chris, I've tried to talk to her but she just breaks down in tears whenever I bring it up. I don't know what to do." I could tell by her voice that she was near tears.

"OK. I've got something that I've really gotta do right now. Give me a few hours to get this out of the way and I'll call you back at this number."

"OK," came a weak reply.

"Andi?"

"Yeah?"

"We'll work it out, OK?"

I heard her take a deep breath on the other end of the phone. "Thank you, Chris."

###

An hour later I was pulling in the driveway at my girlfriends house. She lived with her parents who were pretty well off. It was a really nice place. Four wide columns rose from the ground floor to the top of the second story, giving the place an air of formality and high brow snobbery. Jennifer and I had been dating for three years on and off, so her parents knew me well and liked me. I never knocked as they would just ask me why I didn't let myself in.

I pushed the front door open and walked through the big house to the kitchen -- the most likely place to find Jennifer's mother Anne. The kitchen was empty so I continued through to the study which had an expansive view of the back of the property as well as the pool and pool house. Standing at the full length windowed french doors that led to the patio and out to the pool, I saw her.

At the time I wished it was just her that I saw. In hindsight I'm glad things worked out the way they did. It took me a few minutes to recognize who I was looking at. My best friend Brad was laying back on a patio lounger, his swim trunks sitting in a heap on the ground, while Jennifer was on her hands and knees between his legs. From the angle I couldn't see her face but after fucking her for three years I would recognize her ass from a hundred yards. She really had a great ass. Anyway, there she was, head bobbing up and down in Brads lap.

My blood ran cold and my hair stood on end while watching the double betrayal. 'What the fuck?' I though to myself. 'She hasn't given me a blow job in months.' My anger grew with every dip of that blonde ponytail. I could have walked away. I could have turned around and ended it and never looked back. But I was angry beyond rage. I took a deep breath and felt an queer kind of calm wash over me. It wasn't that I wanted to hurt either of them, but her betrayal couldn't go completely unanswered.

I pulled out my phone, and just for posterity took a quick snapshot of Cheating Bitch and her Boytoy. Then I waited. I watched Brad carefully, gauging his progress by his facial expressions. I had to time this just right for full effect.

I watched as her head went up and down, over and over again. He was laid back in the chair with his hands gripping the arm rests while she worked his cock. She was really getting into it to -- with a degree of enthusiasm that I hadn't seen from her in at least the past year. Sex with Jennifer was OK but after the first year or so things really tapered off and she just wasn't the adventurous, enthusiastic lover that she had been when things were fresh. She had to really be on fire for him because as she sucked him off she reached a hand between her legs and buried two fingers deep in her cunt. I watched for a little while longer while she plowed her own pussy with her hand.

Brad threw his head back, groaning in pleasure and I knew the time had arrived. He was cumming, filling her mouth up with his back stabbing cock cream. I opened the door -- not bothering to be quiet and walked outside. He was still in the middle of his orgasm when I stopped five feet away from the patio lounger. I looked at my girlfriend with her mouth still stuffed full of cock.

"Sorry to interrupt, you two." I wasn't.

Brad and Jennifer were both jolted from their sexual tunnel vision and Brads rapidly softening cock fell out of Jennifer's mouth with a plop. They both looked up at me, wide eyed. I only regret that I didn't still have my phone out to take a picture of my beautiful whore of a girlfriend with a huge load of cum streaming down her chin as she choked and struggled to either swallow what she had in her mouth or spit it out. It was quite the sight.

"FUCK! Chris, this isn't what it looks like!" Brad was reaching for a towel to cover himself as Jennifer was trying in vain to clean her face up.

I summoned up all of my exasperation and poured it into my best 'you gotta be kidding me' look. "Well then what the fuck do you call it when you catch your best friend with his cock in your girlfriends mouth, Brad? Shut up. Fuck you." Then I turned to Jennifer. "And I would say fuck you too but it looks like Brad has been beating me to it for quite a while now. This is why you don't want to hang out anymore? This is why I haven't had a blow job in months? Is your fucking jaw too tired from sucking Brads dick? This is what I get in return for putting up with your bullshit for the past three fucking years?"

"What are you doing here, Chris?" she said, angry at the indignity of having to speak while still wiping the slimy white froth from her mouth and chin.

"I came over to give you this," I tossed the almost forgotten bottle of perfume at her. She tried to catch it but it slipped through her cum slicked fingers and clattered on the concrete below. "It was supposed to be a make-up gift, but go ahead and consider it a consolation prize. Don't call me. Don't text me. Don't show up on my doorstep. Ever."

I knew I had seconds to get out of there before she started crying. I could see it in her face -- the transition from panic, to anger, to regret. Even under these circumstances I couldn't bear to see her cry. Not because I was still in love with her -- I think that died somewhere around the second or third bob of her head. It's just a thing for me. Even today, I can't stand seeing a woman in tears. I turned and walked back into the house, passing Jennifer's mother in the kitchen.

"Oh, hi Chris! How are you sweetie?" she chimed.

"Hi Mrs. Matthews. I'm much better now, thank you, but I think Jennifer needs you by the pool. I think it's important." I said, smiling wickedly to myself on the inside.

"Oh, OK. Is she alright?"

"Um, I don't think so. She was crying when I left."

Confused, she looked at me as if to say, "Then why are you leaving?"

"You better hurry, she's really upset," I said in response to her unasked question.

She turned and started running as I turned the opposite direction to head back out of the house.

###

Over then next few hours I felt every negative emotion there is a name for and I think I felt some emotions that don't have names. I gathered her things from around my apartment. A couple of night shirts, a few travel mugs, an umbrella, even a couple of pairs of panties -- just the bullshit things that get left lying around. I packed them all up in a cardboard box and dropped them rather roughly on the side of the road.

I called my landlord and explained that I needed my locks changed immediately if possible. She was sympathetic to my situation. She would be - I always paid my rent early and had a good working relationship with her. She sent someone over right away and in a matter of a half an hour I had new locks and new keys to go with them.

Then I took a shower. A long, long hot shower. Three years of my life I had spent with her. I didn't view it all as a waste. We had our good times otherwise we wouldn't have bothered. In the beginning she was a firecracker in bed. She wanted to try everything and we went through just about every fantasy either of us could think up. She was adventurous, uninhibited and fun to be around. Then one day things just dried up. Her enthusiasm was gone, her hunger for sex satiated. She had become asexual. She just didn't want it anymore.

Or that's what I thought. I know now that enthusiasm and hunger for sex weren't gone -- they had just been directed at another target. I stood in the shower, the hot water drumming rhythmically on my skin; washing away the Jennifer. It wasn't all about sex. She was sweet and fun and kind -- or so I thought. At one time I thought I would marry that girl. I had been the perfect boyfriend. I did everything right. Her family liked me. I had money -- showered her with gifts. I was kind, sweet, caring. Stupid fucking girl. My flesh stung and turned bright pink from the scalding torrent. Steam clogged the air and I could taste the water vapor on my tongue and feel it in my lungs.

I opened my eyes and stared at the floor. In my peripheral vision I noticed something that suddenly didn't belong. There was a pink shampoo bottle on my tub. Then I realized just how irritating it would be to continue to see reminders of her. I boxed up her things but there's no way I got everything. We'd been together for three years and she practically lived here. No, it was going to take a long time to rid my life of her. I had to get out of here. This apartment, this town, this life that I had been living that was so intertwined with and structured around her presence.

I shut the water off and got out, not bothering with a towel. I collapsed on my bed dripping wet, with steam rising from my skin. I must have laid there for an hour rolling it over. I was pissed at Brad but I never really put it past him. He was just that kind of guy. Not an all around bad guy but not someone you could trust around your girl. I'd always known that about him but I had more faith in Jennifer than I did him. So I was right about him and wrong about her. That was just salt in the wound. What the hell was she thinking?

My thoughts were interrupted by my phone ringing. 'Probably Jennifer calling to try to explain this shit away..'

I picked up the phone and swiped the face with my thumb without bothering to look at the caller. "Fuck you. We're done. I told you not to call me. Now fuck off."

"Um, Chris?"

Fuck! It was Andrea. The camp! I'd forgotten all about it.

"Oh, shit, Andrea -- I'm really sorry. I was going to call but things got all messed up here..."

"It sounds like it. Jennifer?" she asked.

I sighed, heavy and slow. "Yeah."

"Well. I'm glad it's not me that you're done with," she teased.

"I meant to call. I'm really sorry."

"Stop it. You need me right now and I need your help. Can you drive up?" she asked.

I thought about it. You know what? Yeah. Yeah, I could drive up. That's exactly what I needed. I needed to get out of here -- take some time off and get out of this town and this apartment that was so full of Jennifer memories.

"You're buying the whiskey," I said.

"Sweetie if that's all it takes, I'll buy a case. You can stay at my place. You remember how to get here?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Then get on the road already. It's a long drive."

"OK. I'm leaving in 10 minutes."

"Chris?"

"Yeah?"

"I really miss you."

###

It was a four hour drive across the state line to the town that Andi lived in. Aunt Terri had moved them there after Mom died. That was around the same time she divorced Uncle Dave and used the money she got in the divorce to buy a house and start her new job, and her new life. Unfortunately Andi was along for the ride. She felt like she needed to be there for her mom. The divorce really did a number on Aunt Terri and Andi was worried about her. I wanted her to stay -- begged her to stay. She was my best friend and after just losing my mother, I felt like I was losing much more. But Aunt Terri wasn't about to leave town without her little girl in tow.

We talked on the phone pretty regularly at first. We emailed, chatted online and when technology caught up we did video chats. I missed her so much. It was like someone cut off my right arm. She was my friend; my confidant; the rock that my tears splashed against. We shared everything together. She knew all my secrets -- even the dirty ones, and I knew all hers.

After some time we both got a little older and started having lives outside of each other. She started dating and so did I. Our daily talks turned into every few days, then weekly, then monthly. A year or two of that and we were only talking every three months. I would visit as often as I could. She had a car but it couldn't be trusted to make the trip, so the only time I got to see her was when I would drive up to visit -- which I did as often as I could.

Andi and Aunt Terri didn't get along very well by the end of it all. She never really filled me in on all the details but they fought a lot. I helped her move out of her mothers house on her 20th birthday. I tried to convince her to come home but she wouldn't have it. As much as she was at odds with her mother, she still felt like she needed to be close. She didn't have much to move, but we scrounged some furniture and I bought a few things to fill in the gaps so she could feel at home. Aunt Janice wasn't much help as all the divorce money had dried up years ago and she was only just getting by. But by then I was getting my monthly stipend from my trust fund that Mom and Dad had put in place before they died so it really wasn't a big deal. Andrea made it out to be much more than it was.

These were the things I was thinking of as I made the four hour drive. These things and something else. The last thing she said to me on the phone before she hung up. It could number in the thousands the times that we've told each other, "I miss you." It wasn't the words though. It was the sincerity in her voice. Her tone was almost urgent, pleading even. Like she really needed me to know that she missed me. I was worried about her -- something was wrong. Something that didn't have anything to do with the camp. Even with everything that happened to me that day, I was worried about Andrea.

The sun was going down now and the air started to get a bit of a chill in it. It was nice, crisp, fresh air and I was glad that I kept the rag top off of the Jeep for the ride in. It was about 10:00 by the time I pulled into a parking space and walked up the stairs to number 216. I smiled as I recalled when she moved in, she made such a big deal about the apartment number. Our birthdays happened to fall on the same day -- did I mention that already? Anyway -- you guessed it, February 16th.

I hardly knocked on the door before it swung open and Andi rushed me. She threw her arms around me, pushed her body hard against mine and planted a wet kiss squarely on my lips! Oh, there was no tongue or anything but even so, this wasn't how we usually greeted each other. My eyes went wide, but hers were shut. When she finally ended the lip-lock she looked at my face and immediately blushed.

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I've just been so anxious for you to get here and I was just thinking about you and here you are!" she said it all in one breath.

"No, no. It's fine, really. I was just... I didn't expect it is all."

She looked at me and I could tell she was feeling a little awkward so I figured I'd break the tension.

"OK, now is when you invite me in and pour me a whiskey."

Andi smiled at me and led the way into the kitchen where she did just that.

###

We sat at the small table in her kitchen and talked and drank taking turns pouring the whiskey into two glass tumblers. Andi and I always had a thing for cheap whiskey. It was all my father ever kept in the house in the way of alcohol so naturally it was the first alcoholic drink Andi and I ever tried. For whatever reason it stuck with both of us. I still remember that first sip. It was awful and horrible and burned all the way down. We were a sight to see -- drinking whiskey and trying to keep a straight face to prove to the other that we were grown up and could handle a real adult drink. It didn't work. We both made faces every time we took a sip of the stuff but it was what we had. After faking it enough times I guess it just grew on us and became our preference.

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