Hiding in My House Pt. 04

"Are you suggesting you don't even want to talk about it?"

"Nope," I said. I tugged my laptop out of the backpack and held it up. "I'm flat-out saying I'm not going to talk about it. So if you don't want to come over here and make out with me, the other choice I'm giving you is, come over here and let's watch my next home movie of Dad and Kell incesting the hell out of each other."

"You know I despise procrastination," she said. "I'm not sure I can put off a genuine moral dilemma with prurient distractions."

I opened the laptop and patted the bed next to me. "Aren't all moral dilemmas a form of procrastination anyway? Trust me, you'll pretty quickly get over the fact that I'm distracting you once I start this video up."

# # #

So we watched my second porno, Dad and Kellie on the Couch. Seong sat next to me on the edge of her bed, close enough that our knees and shoulders touched, with her hand holding the left side of the screen, mine holding the right, and the keyboard half on each of our laps. I kind of had to fight against looping my arm around behind her waist.

The video started off with Dad dropping his naked ass onto the couch at Kellie's feet, which she'd stretched out about three-quarters of the way across the sofa from where she lounged at one end.

"Look at them," Seong said. "So nonchalant about their nakedness, their nearness. This is obviously completely normal to them."

"Well," I said, "not so normal that they'd leave the blinds open for it."

She laughed, then let out an, "ooh," as my sister slithered from the couch down to the floor to kneel right between my father's legs.

"Were they saying something just then?" Seong asked. "It's very difficult to hear. Oh! My goodness."

We'd just gotten to the part where I'd zoomed in. Kell's hand gripped Dad's wanky bit, fattening and then straightening it to point right at her boobs. Which, like I've said, were amazing.

"Please don't be offended, C, but I understand now why you're so jealous of those. The curves... the perfect size, those abruptly jutting nipples -- wait! Go back, they're definitely talking now." She reached across to bump up the volume as I scrubbed back a second or two.

Too far away and on the other side of a bannister, Kellie said, "Something something something, for a guy old enough something something my father." Dad's response was even less audible. Those full lips of Seong's pouted, then pursed as the screen showed my sister lean forward and put her mouth around the cock that had lent us each half our genes.

Dad's next words came out plenty loud enough to hear: "Ah! Oh -- oh yes --"

Next to me, Seong put a hand up to the bare hollow at the base of her throat. It stayed there through the whole next five or six minutes of masterful incest blowjob unfolding onscreen. I could hear the pace of her breathing change a couple of times.

"I did not think amateurs gave such... vigorous head," she said at one point when Kellie really got going.

"She's a talent," I agreed. The feel of Seong's thigh along mine made the action less mesmerizing for its own sake yet somehow even more arousing than the other times I'd watched.

"That far down on it!" she exclaimed a moment later. "She can't be breathing with it in so deep. How long..."

"Just keep watching," I said.

She did, and she did, and she did, until finally she said, "I would black out."

About that same second, Kell came up off Dad's dripping hard-on gasping, her mouth wide to drag in the breath she'd been denying herself. Dad caressed her cheek and said something below the threshold of the microphone.

"He's telling her to be careful not to choke herself," I explained. "Now she's laughing at him."

"I have eyes, dear C," she said. "I can see a laugh perfectly w--"

We'd gotten to the part where Kell straddled Dad's lap.

"Unbelievable. This is -- wait, what's happening to the camera?"

"Sorry, I was trying to adjust the zoom a little better."

"You do not have a career in this," she said, which I laughed at. "Although your father and sister certainly do well on their end of the lens. If I didn't know better, I'd say this part was a deliberate tease to the audience. His cock. It's pointed right there. She's all but on it. How long is she going to wait to take him in?"

"They were kind of... talking a bit here."

Seong looked over at me -- I guess because she heard some of the emotion in my voice. "Do you want to pause this and tell me about it?"

I smiled, maybe a little weakly, but I didn't have to fake anything when I responded, "No... it's fixing to get really good here in a second."

When I tapped the screen, she nodded and turned back to watch.

# # #

Afterward, we talked a little. First, I told her about that stretch right before Kell sank down onto Dad's cock -- how the parts she couldn't hear were them talking about how lucky they were, and how that had made them turn and look offscreen toward the fireplace and the picture of my mother above it.

"It's a rare gift," Seong said quietly, after I described that moment and my reaction, "to have been through such a loss and still see the good fortune in your world."

"Yes," I said. We sat as we had throughout the video -- side-by-side, legs just touching, close enough to embrace or kiss but not doing it. The laptop had been set aside. "But I really am very lucky. To have them, and to have you. Have you gotten any closer to figuring out if I'm going to have you as more than my best friend?"

She nudged me with her knee. "Closer, yes. Decided? No. But you are really sure you want to?"

I nodded. "Maybe it's a terrible idea and doomed to absolute disaster, but you're such a wonderful person, Seong. I don't think anybody can be as wonderful as you are, really. Which I think means, part of how wonderful I think you are must be a sign of how completely I adore you."

"So... the proof of our romantic potential is the fact that you think you've deluded yourself into mis-perceiving me as superior to my actual qualities?"

"Yes, that's exactly right. It sounds worse when you say it that way, but I'm sticking by my guns."

She laughed. "With every word, you give me more to ponder. We should brush our teeth and get to bed, so that I may lie restless next to you in absolute vacillation over your ability to make folly sound like wisdom."

And minutes after that, we lay together in the dark beneath her covers, not touching, not talking... I think both of us just listening to each other breathe, trying to get our heads around what those breaths meant to us. I closed my eyes a couple of times.

The last of those times, a breezy dream crossed through my mind, gently, from one side to the other, so quick and subtle that I woke from it almost without realizing I'd been asleep. Seong's breathing still sounded slow and easy beside me. Nothing had changed, except... where my hand lay at my side, palm down, it sensed a whisper-light pressure along one knuckle of its pinkie.

Seong's finger, barely in contact with mine.

How long has that been there? I wondered. Did she move her hand closer on purpose? Did one of us just shift in our sleep?

Is she awake now?

Her little finger, my little finger. Motionless. Maybe an inch or less of faint conjunction.

I had slipped unconscious, and this had happened. And now I was wide, wide awake.

Time gets weird when you wake up in the middle of the night, right? I mean, sometimes your eyes pop open and your brain won't stop and you look at the clock and want to fall back asleep and you try and try and try your ass off and then you look at the time again and it's ten minutes later. Other times, you're okay being awake and there's something you want to think about and you see you've got hours before morning and you're good with that and before you know it, the alarm's going off.

I have no idea how long I stayed in that exact position, with my whole nervous system crowded into I guess a knuckle's worth of skin, just because maybe it was on purpose and maybe this was the first time she'd touched me and meant it that way. I didn't want to say anything, I didn't want to move in case I woke her up and learned it was nothing, an accident, unintended.

But eventually, it came to me: What if she's lying there thinking the same thing?

As slowly as I've ever done anything in my life, I turned my hand in place -- steadily, carefully, so my ring finger replaced my pinkie against her skin, and then my middle finger, and then the pointer -- until the back of my hand relaxed onto the mattress, and one knuckle of my index finger found its place at our point of connection, and the ball of my thumb landed in the tiny crook where her hand met her wrist.

Her breathing didn't change during any of this. She said nothing. But even at the halfway point, I knew she was awake. And when my movement stopped, her smallest finger, and then its neighbor, crept across the borders of my two largest ones, and her wrist lifted just enough for her to clear my thumb, and she slipped her hand into mine.

In the deep night quiet of her house, I found my ears ringing like a chorus of angels had just broken loose.

Three of Seong's fingertips nested themselves in the nooks where my fingers lay against one another, just above the top border of my palm. The fourth traced along the far edge. Her cupped palm had come down flush with those creases in my wrist, its hollow curving up and over the heel of my hand. She felt like air, like a warm summer mist, encompassing my skin without weight. I spread my fingers a little and let hers fall through them.

A thousand percent, I could have stayed like that all the way through till morning and been amazed the whole time.

But a few minutes into it, I felt a trembling where my girlfriend's hand held mine -- and then I heard a tiny sniffle, and I realized she was crying.

"Seong, what's wrong?" I curled my fingers to interlock them more fully with hers, squeezing her hand. She squeezed back.

Her voice came out tight, pitched unevenly higher than normal. "I am so happy right now, my C," she said. "But scared."

"Why?"

Another sniffle... or maybe just a breath of a laugh.

"You make bad dating choices." That bit came out a lot more solid and sure. "And when you end things with someone, you never want to see them again. I don't know that I could bear that outcome."

"Well... I do make bad dating choices. Can't really argue with that."

"I was not offering it up for debate."

"Haha. But the other part you're wrong about."

She shifted, and I sensed that her head had turned, so I turned mine as well and found her face a bare silhouette in the dark. "It's been your pattern so far," she said, "since I've known you."

I thought back about the relationships I'd been in at college, I guess an average of one a semester, Brandt being longer than most. I could see why she'd gotten the wrong impression.

"No," I said, thinking about how to explain it. "Everybody you've seen me date... I ended things with them because I never wanted to see them again. Not the other way around. I'll always want to see you again, S, even if this part doesn't work out."

A sigh went out of her, and the quiver left her hand.

"That's good. I believe you."

Her thumb eased against mine, ginger and delicate. Her index finger, tucked between my own and the middle finger next to it, snuggled further, its tip exploring the tendons at the back of my hand.

"Chelsea, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

She relaxed her fingers and slipped them free of mine -- not to take her hand away, but to glide her touch down along my palm, her palm down beyond my wrist. She drew a circle in the middle of my hand with one gentle nail. "Why do you call me 'S'?"

"Uh... because you call me 'C'?"

"Ah. I thought you might think that." One and then the next and then the next, she tapped her fingertips against my palm, then rubbed her wrist up against mine, then back down the tender skin of my inner forearm.

"What else would I think?" Considering that you're making it really hard to think at all right now...

"That I'm not using your initial -- I'm just shortening your name to 'Sea,' like the ocean. You are like the ocean to me."

As if to demonstrate, she ebbed her fingers out of my palm, lay them in a loose grasp about my wrist, then ran that grasp along my tingling flesh almost to the elbow before flowing back to her starting point.

I think I coughed a little at the shock that ran through me from that caress. But the ocean thing? "I don't know about that... the ocean is all salty and full of crabs and weeds."

"The ocean is deep. It glides near and then moves back." Again her touch moved along my arm, a midnight wave over sighing sands. "It is constant, but can brew storms upon itself. When I walk near it, its sound is soft and comforting."

There are people, lots of them, who wait their whole lifetimes and never get to hear anyone say that kind of thing to them, you know? So I couldn't help it -- I had to put my other hand over my mouth to keep from either blubbering like a baby or lunging over to kiss her. In the dark while I lay there and shook, Seong's fingers traced serpentine courses up my forearm, spiralled their way to the center of my palm, rode up to mate themselves each to my matching one -- then contracted to a point right at my wrist, where her fingertips flowered open, then closed, then open, then closed.

"So," she said, "we are dating now? Yes?"

"Uh-huh," I managed to squeak through the fingers I'd put across my lips.

"Good." Her fingertips continued to spider open and shut upon my skin -- now moving up into my palm to pulse there, now descending to write tingling circles along my arm. "It relieves me, at last, that I am no longer a bi-virgin."

I laughed, which thankfully broke me loose from those overwhelming emotions."Me too, but I'm not sure we can call our bi-cherries popped before we actually have sex, can we?"

I thought I was being funny, but Seong's fingers stopped dead in mid-stroke along each side of my wrist. Her breathing stopped too -- for just a second -- before she spoke.

"This doesn't feel like making love to you?"

I found my eyes blinking really fast all of a sudden. I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears.

"Wow. Oh my god, Seong, wow."

She let her breath out again, and her hand returned to its sweeps and soft windings.

"I was scared again for a moment," she said. "I thought I'd misunderstood where we lay."

"No, you were right," I said, amazed at how true it was. Her fingers slid into place parallel to mine, then her hand lifted at the wrist until only our fingertips touched. "I just would have called this foreplay until you said that."

"No..." Her wrist tipped back and forth, rotating the intricate whorls of her prints so lightly their textures rang line by line against a million sensitive nerves through which I felt them. "... 'foreplay' would require something to come after it. This is all we are doing tonight."

I had just started to shift my hand in time to hers when my brain caught up to those words and said, What?

"What?" my mouth echoed, like it was on a half-second delay.

"You know my rule about sex."

"Uh... yes, but... seriously?" She's got to be joking. "No sex on the first date?"

"Yes." Pinkie, ring finger, middle finger, thumb -- she lifted each one up, then drew the point of her index finger down along mine, joint by joint. "I could break my own rule with someone who deserved it the way you do. But Mother also has a rule -- no sex in the house on days of the month divisible by seven."

Right. Sure. Rule Seven that she thought she'd better warn Seong to follow. Damn, I guess Mrs. Song caught a vibe I didn't know we were giving off.

"That's an oddly specific and arbitrary seeming rule to have," I said.

"Yes. You have to love that about Mother, don't you?"

"Haha, I guess I do."

Her finger curled in on itself. I felt the flat of her nail visit each of the long bones in my palm where they met the creased roots of my fingers.

"I could break my own rule, by itself. And I could break my mother's rule, out of passion. She would forgive that. But to break them both at once feels... unlucky."

"Okay," I said, starting again to move my hand with hers. "Only I'm confused. I thought we were already having sex, according to you."

"Making love."

"Now who's quibbling over syntax?" That made her laugh. "Anyway, point is, that spot on my wrist where you just put your fingertips is really buying the idea that we're totally going at it right now."

Another laugh. It felt like a gift, to be able to make her do that so easily.

"Like you, Mother wouldn't consider this sex." As she spoke, I brought my fingers up in the shape of a cup. Her hand closed and rolled within it. "I am skirting the edge of many definitions and restrictions at the moment, I know. But it feels right."

"It does feel right. You're so fucking weird, Seong."

Another laugh, giving me the same rush as if I'd found the richest vein in a goldmine.

"I enjoy your compliments," she said.

Our hands flowed together like a spill of honey.

"You know," I said, playing now, not really making any argument at all, "technically, we didn't go on an actual date tonight. So if we did more than this, you'd only be breaking your mom's rule, not your own."

"I do not feel in technicalities."

"Well then... kissing doesn't count as sex, does it?"

"The way I would do it to you right now? Yes. Absolutely."

A clarity in her voice seeped into me, into my belly and my thighs. I might as well have lowered myself into some steaming, thickly mineralized hot spring.

"You're no fun," I complained. "And what you're doing with your hand there is making me so horny."

"I am fun. You can touch yourself if you need to. I'd like that."

Before I could even think, the fingers of my free hand slid down my stomach and tried to slip beneath my panties' waistband. I pretty much barely stopped them in time.

"I think... I should wait," I said. Her fingers continued patiently illuminating volumes of poetry across my skin. She didn't ask me anything, but I still felt I had to explain. "I don't want the first time I come with you to be just me. I want to be able to make you come too."

"My sweet little Sea," she said, with a sigh that was part laugh and part worship. "You have given me so many orgasms. This would be entirely fair."

"Oh, would it, now," I replied. "So you've been masturbating over me quite a while, hmm?"

"Since the second night after we met."

A little thrill ran through me at that, which she must have felt through the pressure of our palms together. "Well," I said, "at least it wasn't the first night."

"I have that rule, remember?"

"Haha, right."

More handsing. I let my fingers tangle up in hers, then tickle their way free until only our thumbs touched, like figure-skaters holding each other one-handed while their bodies circled the single point of their connection.

"So..." she asked after a bit, "where is your other hand right now?"

"I think I still want to wait."

"Good."Her voice had a satisfied tone to it. "I'd like that, too."

The heat between my legs complained about not getting its way, but that confirmation from Seong shored up any doubts about the decision. I lay there a while feeling my underwear get damp as her hand and mine explored each other's contours, softnesses, solidities.

"I guess I'll have to find something else to call you besides 'S,'" I said after a bit. "It sounds really lame now that I know you're saying 'Sea.'"