The Lake House Ch. 02

Mason sat quietly outside the nurse's office, his mind racing as he waited for Gesabel. He'd touched a real breast, for the first time in his eighteen years of living, a real breast. Of course he'd seen breasts before. What red-blooded teenager with internet access hadn't? In the deepest, darkest hours of the night, when all the family was asleep, he'd cruise the sexual cyberspace, floating from one porn site to another, all the while stroking himself until he came.

It was hard to believe that at his age he'd never touched a breast. Sure, he'd dated a few girls in his class. He'd even made out with one or two of them, but when it came right down to actually feeling them up, he shied away. They all just seemed so shallow, only caring about how they looked or what he was going to buy them. For awhile there he had questioned his sexuality. But after quietly checking out some of the guys in the locker room showers after gym class he'd come to the conclusion that he'd preferred girls.

There had been one girl he thought he might really like to get to know. It was during his sophomore year in high school and he'd borrowed his parents' car to take her out to the lake for dinner on the beach. But before they even got out of the car, she had reached under her skirt, slipped her panties off and leaned over the seat. She had looked over at him and said she had heard that he was well hung, and she was just dying to find out if the rumors were true.

Mason had been so shocked that he had no words. He promptly turned the car around and drove the girl home. After escorting her to the front door, he thanked her for an "interesting" evening, got into his parents' car and left. That was the end of that. Until he got to school the following Monday and all his friends got a good laugh out of how he had taken "Easy Bake" Betsy out for a ride. He was still trying to live that one down.

Breaking into his thoughts, Gesabel came bouncing out of the office stating that she had gotten a clean bill of health from the nurse and that they could catch the bus home. It was going to be a long ride and Mason thanked God that Gesabel decided to listen to her iPod so that he didn't have to hold a conversation with her. A real breast, and of all people, his sister's. His left palm began to burn again and his dick twitched in his jeans, letting him know who was in charge at the moment. Mason shifted uncomfortably in his seat and quickly grabbed his duffel bag to cover the growing bulge. Yup, it was going to be a long ride home.

At dinner Mason was pretty much silent and only picked at the food on his plate. Gesabel was sitting across the table excitedly retelling the whole event to their parents, how Mason had come to her rescue and saved her life. Mason just stared guiltily at his plate. Even though it wasn't intentional, he still couldn't believe that he'd felt up his sister.

Gesabel stood up and began to clear the plates for dessert. She came around to his side of the table and as she leaned over to take his plate, her breast grazed his shoulder. Mason felt like someone had set him on fire as he felt the heat from the unexpected contact move down his spinal cord directly to his balls. It took everything within him not to move. He almost came unglued when Gesabel leaned in even further and brushed her full lips lightly across his cheek. His nostrils flared as he caught a whiff of her body wash. It was nothing flowery or fruity; not a girly-girl scent, but it was more than enough to make his head swim.

"Did you ever know that you're my hero?" she whispered into his ear. As she picked up his plate she flashed him a bright smile and her dimple peeked out. Then she danced away humming the Bette Midler song under her breath as she made her way into the kitchen. Mason's face flushed a deep red as he felt his dick come to life. He stood straight up, moving so quickly that he almost knocked over his chair, but he caught it just before it hit the floor. "Mom, may I be excused?" He choked out. Cathy looked up at her son's abrupt move and frowned.

"Are you ok Mace? You've hardly touched your dinner, and now you're turning down dessert?" She tilted her head to one side as she watched him set his chair upright.

"Yeah." He nodded his head as he licked his lips. "I'm fine, Mom. I-I'm just... tired. It's been a really long day, you know?" It sounded weak, even to his own ears. His mother's glacier blue eyes looked into his, as if searching for something. There was a slight pause as she took in his flushed face.

"Mm-hmm," she pursed out her lips, and her eyes narrowed, still looking at his face. Mason placed the chair in front of him, hoping to hide the bulge that had started to push against his zipper from his mother's probing eyes. He gripped the back of the chair and waited. There was silence, and Mason held his breath. He could feel his face heat up even more as she looked him over again, but then she let it go.

"Sure, honey," she said lightly as she stood up to get the dessert plates. "Get a good night's rest. We'll see you in the morning."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Mason hurried up to his room, and after closing the door he threw himself on his bed. His mind was racing, his palm was burning, and the bulge in his jeans was growing. He slipped his hand under the waist band to adjust himself, but as he made contact with the head of his dick it lurched up in full force, demanding to be taken care of. He quickly pulled his hand back out and moved up the bed so that his back was propped against the wall. God! He pulled up his legs, draped his arms across his knees and dropped his head down. He tried to think of something else to take his mind off the swelling member rising up between his legs, but he couldn't.

The whole scene played back in his mind. The feeling of her firm beast as it had rested perfectly in the palm of his hand. The way her nipple had tightened as the tips of his fingers brushed across it. He wondered what color it was. Was it cherry pink like her lips? Or was it a deep dusky rose? What would it taste like if he sucked it between his lips? Stop it!

Mason thunked his head against the wall, clenched his fists and then ran a shaky hand through his closely cropped hair. His chest rose and fell with labored breath. His palm was burning and he rubbed it on his thigh. 'Don't...don't...don't do it, man. Don't do it.' His mind fought with his body. Of course, his body won. His fingers fumbled with the button of his jeans and then the zipper got stuck. Fuck! Then suddenly the zipper released itself. As he raised his hips and impatiently shoved his boxer briefs and jeans down his legs, his hardened dick sprung back and slapped against his taut stomach. He let out a soft grunt as the sharp contact sent a sensational wave from the head all the way down to his balls.

He didn't bother taking off his boxer briefs or his jeans. They lay tangled around his ankles. In truth, he didn't give a damn about them. He was beyond himself. All he cared about was getting some relief. His left hand snaked around the base of his dick. The heat from the memory of Gesabel's breast resting in his palm seemed to radiate up the stiff column. His eyes gleamed as he looked down at the head of his dick. The slit on top expanded as a thick iridescent pearl-drop of pre-cum seeped out and down to meet his first upstroke. His nostrils flared as he drew in a sharp breath. His hand slid back down, and as he pulled back up, more pre-cum spilled out making the journey slick.

Mason tipped his head back against the wall; his eyebrows drew together as his eyes slowly closed. In his mind's eye he could see Gesabel's firm breast rising and falling. The dusky rose (that was the color he'd chosen) nipple as it hardened. His hand gathered speed and his breath became short punctuated gasps.

His mouth opened as if he was actually taking her nipple between his lips. That's what he was picturing in his head. The light earthy scent of her body wash filled his head once again. Would her flesh taste sugary sweet with just an overlaying hint of saltiness? Would she arch her back in response to his teeth nipping at the hardened nub? Short, soft grunts began to escape from deep in his throat as his hips began to move in time with his hand. "Aww...fuck!" He gritted his teeth. There was a tingling feeling down in the base of his balls that was starting to make its way up the shaft of his dick. His hips thrust up harder, forcing the rigid glossy column through the tight encircling grip of his hand. Up, down, up, down...oh...God. The pace quickened.

Mason's heart thumped in his chest as his breathing became a sporadic pant. The muscles in his throat worked frantically as he swallowed and then gasped for air again. A thin bead of sweat rolled down the side of his temple. He swiped at it with his right hand and then reached down to grip the comforter on his bed, all the while his left hand was gathering speed. The tingling feeling had reached the mushroomed head of his dick. He wanted to prolong the pleasure that ran throughout his body, but he couldn't. It was coming and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He could feel his balls tighten and his dick swell up even more as the built up pressure made its swift ascent. "Gesabel!" He couldn't help but utter her name as his hips shot up off the bed and the muscles in his stomach tightened. The tiny slit in the crown of his dick expanded as the first spurt of molten liquid exploded from the tip. His butt dropped back down only to clench and force his hips up again and again. "Ah!...Ah!...Ah!" He had no control. As each powerful spurt escaped the head of his dick, his body contracted and then released. He turned his head to the side as more grunts came from deep within his throat. His right hand gripped the comforter even tighter. Then his breath got caught in his chest and even though his nostrils flexed open, he couldn't seem to take any air in. The last thing he remembered was her name slipping from his lips.

"Gesa..."

************

Mason opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. After being away for two years, he'd thought he had everything under control. But here he was, back to square one, and the nauseating guilt in the pit of his stomach he'd felt back then had returned. He let out a sigh as he rolled onto his side and curled into a ball. His throat worked hard to swallow the bile that had begun to rise up. Again he closed his eyes and remembered.

************

Mason had awakened to find himself slumped against the wall. His legs splayed open, his left hand still clutching his flaccid dick, and his right hand cramping from gripping the comforter so hard during his orgasm. He remembered looking down and seeing the dark splotches of his sperm that had been absorbed into his shirt. Then a sickening feeling of guilt washed over him as he realized that he'd just jacked off thinking about his sister. Mason remembered panicking and falling off the bed as he tried to move. Forgetting that his boxer briefs and jeans were still around his ankles, he landed on the floor with a loud thunk. Shit! He waited for a moment, his heart pounding in his throat, his breath stuck in his chest. Had anyone heard?

"Mason?" He could hear his mother calling and the sound of her feet on the stairs leading up to the second floor. To the bedrooms; more specifically to his bedroom. Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!. If she came in right then it would be all over. How does one explain to his mother the sight of her son on his hands and knees with his boxer briefs and jeans around his ankles, his coated dick and balls hanging down, butt naked to the world, wearing a sperm soaked shirt and his hand sticky with his cum? How does one explain that? Answer: There is no explanation for that. Panic! Absolute panic! Hand-caught-in-the-cookie-jar-panic. "Mason? Are you alright?" Her voice was getting closer. Oh dear God! Deer-caught-in-headlights-panic. "Yeah, Mom!" He yelled out. He did yell, didn't he? It sounded really squeaky to his ears. "I'm fine!"

"You sure?" Ho-ly SHIT! She was right outside. His eyes sliced to the closed door. The handle was turning. That's it. It was over. He was done for. For the life of him, he couldn't move.

"Y-Yeah!" His voice went up an octave. "I, uh, I just... I tripped over my duffel bag." The words tumbled out of his mouth. The handle stopped turning. Mason held his breath for what seemed like an eternity as he waited for his mother's response. He heard an exasperated sigh on the other side of the door.

"Fine, try to be more careful, will you?" Her voice floated through the wooden barrier that separated her from the most shocking sight and his most embarrassing moment ever. He could hear her release the door handle and then her footsteps softly move away. Mason dropped his forehead on the floor, he closed his eyes and as he let out a shaky breath, no words could describe the relief that he felt at that very moment. That was too close for words. Then his body shot straight up. Oh, now he could move. Panic set in once again as he wildly looked around, wondering how he was going to be able to clean up the mess he'd made without anyone noticing. Then the feeling of sheer relief when he remembered that the next day was Saturday and it was his turn to do the laundry. The nausea came back and socked him in the stomach. 'Man, you are one sick puppy. Jackin' off to your sister.' Nausea, panic, relief. Relief, panic, nausea. The emotions ran rampant throughout his body.

Mason slowly staggered to his feet. With shaky fingers and a sticky hand he pulled up his boxer briefs and jeans. He shook his head in disgust as he quietly went to the door of his bedroom. He cracked it open and peered out into the hall to see if anyone was out there. He let out a soft breath; the coast was clear. Quickly he slipped out the door and made his way down the hall to the bathroom; praying that he wouldn't get caught. In the bathroom he immediately stripped down and stuffed his guilt-stained clothes under a bunch of other dirty clothes that were piled in a hamper next to the sink. True, it was his turn to do the laundry the next day so there was really no way he'd have gotten caught, but what he was trying to do was hide his shame.

He stepped over to the tub, pulled back the shower curtain and wearily turned the faucet handles to start the water running. As he waited for the shower to heat up he went to the sink; placing his hands on either side, he looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes ran over every inch of his face, searching. Searching for what, he wasn't really sure. Maybe some sort of mark or a huge stamp on his forehead that screamed "PERVERT!" But nothing had changed. All he could see were a pair of haunted silver gray eyes staring back at him. His looked down at the dirty clothes hamper, the hamper that was hiding his secret. There on top of all the other clothes were a pair of Gesabel's panties. Well, they weren't really panties, they were boy shorts. Gesabel had never been one for the girly stuff. Nothing frilly pink, or lacey. She was a tom boy through and through. But that was beside the point. The fact of the matter was that here was a piece of clothing that belonged to her, and that particular piece of clothing had been nestled up against the most intimate part of her body. Mason slowly reached down toward the small garment. His fingers began to tremble as they stretched out to curl around the boy shorts. At the last second he snatched his hand back. 'What is wrong with you?' His mind yelled at him. 'Isn't once more than enough?' Mason whirled away from the hamper and quickly got into the shower. The second the hot water hit his knees he felt a stinging burn, causing him to hop back a bit. His breath hissed out through his teeth as he looked down to see two very angry red knee caps. Nice, rug burns.

He gritted his teeth and stepped back into the spray. Maybe, just maybe the hot jet streams of water would wash away the throbbing between his legs and the soap and washcloth would purge his mind and body of the guilt that he felt. Yeah, right! Like that was going to happen.

Mason placed his hands on the shower wall. For a moment he just stood there and let the hot water pour over him. Then he reached down and turned the hot water faucet up higher, to the point that it almost scalded him, and grabbed the soap. He made quick work of his face and neck, scrubbing as hard as he could. But as he moved lower to clean his chest, the washcloth swept across his right nipple, it hardened and the left nipple answered in kind. His chest expanded as he drew in a sharp breath. He could have pretended that he wasn't about to jack off again, right there in the shower. He could have pretended that he wasn't thinking about Gesabel's breast or the fact that her boy shorts were but a few feet away. But he didn't. The left hand that held the washcloth shot down and wrapped itself around his hardened dick. Mason's head snapped back and his right hand slammed against the shower wall as he tried to steady himself. The sensation of pure bliss rocked his body. His hand moved back and forth along the marble hard shaft. The soap soaked cloth making it easy and slick. Was this what she felt like? His hand tightened its grip. His hips snapped back.

"Uhhh..." A small grunt emerged from his throat. He gritted his teeth. Her boy shorts cupped up against her crotch. What did they smell like? His butt clenched forcing his dick forward.

"Uhhh..." He didn't have to move his hand anymore, his hips were doing it for him as he worked feverishly to reach that unavoidable end. "Uhhh..." Dear God, it felt so good. He didn't want it to stop, ever. He was inside her; she was wrapped around him. The pressure was building and that tingling feeling was rising up from his balls again.

"Uhhh...Gesabel..." He gasped out. "Awww...fuck!" The mushroomed head of his dick turned from a deep red to a dark purple, and the veins that ran along the sides of his shaft began to stand out. His hips pulled back and then snapped forward. Back, forward, back...

"Uhhh...don't stop...don't...stop...Gesa..." His breath got stuck in his chest and the pounding of his heart thrummed in his ears. It was coming, he was coming.

Shot after shot of hot sperm spewed forth onto the shower wall. Mason's legs gave out and he collapsed on the floor of the tub. His eyes were dilated to the point that only a sliver of color could be seen. He lay on the floor of the tub trying to regain his breath as his body slowly came down from its unbelievable high. Hot water from the shower head poured down. It was the sharp knock on the bathroom door that snapped him back to reality.

"Mason!" Oh dear God, it was Gesabel!

"Are you almost done?" SHIT! Mason scrambled to shut off the shower and grab a towel. "MA-SON!" Gesabel pounded on the door when he didn't answer. " I have to go to the bathroom! Are you almost done?" She pleaded. "Yeah!" He yelled back. "Hang on, I'll be out in a second." Mason quickly dried off and then wrapped the towel around his waist. "Well hurry up. I really have to pee!" She whined though the door.

He took a step toward the door and at the last second he looked back into the shower, searching for any type of incriminating evidence he may have left behind, but it had all washed down the drain. He let out a breath as he hurried to unlock the door for his sister. Gesabel burst through the slowly opening door, pushing him out of her way as she rushed to the toilet. She was doing a little dance as she fought with the snap and zipper of her jeans. She didn't even wait for him to leave as she whipped down her jeans and plopped herself down on the seat. He slammed the door shut as he heard the stream of pee hit the water in the toilet and her soft sigh as the urgent pressure was lifted from her bladder. Mason stood there looking at the closed door for a moment before turning away.