Homelands Pt. 04 Ch. 04

"Oh, fuck, baby," his mother grunted.

"Cum for me," he said, the way she so often asked of him. "I want to feel you dribbling down my sac. Want to feel your energy pouring into me."

As he said that, he picked up his pace. No mortal man could move that fast. And he was entering her at such an angle that most of the friction was targeting her G-spot. She shuddered and moaned and gasped, trying desperately to maintain some measure of control over her body. But it was a losing battle. He was pushing her inexorably towards the brink, and any moment now she would explode.

He needed that.

Needed to know that he could do for her what she did for him.

It was strange. For quite some time, she'd chased after him, and he'd alternated between leading her on and slipping away. But now that he looked back, as clear as it had been that she'd been desperate for his attention, he wasn't sure he could say he'd ever given her the loving she'd deserved.

One afternoon couldn't make up for that. But it could be a start.

He slowed down, making every thrust count. Each one got just a little bit more of a reaction from her. After a few of those, he tightened his grip on her breasts, working her nipples firmly between two fingers, and started sliding back and forth rapidly again. At the same time, he poured energy into her, amplifying her senses.

"Oh fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," she howled, pressing her face into a pillow.

A monster orgasm overtook her. Inside, she began spasming. Her walls gripped him tight, released, then squeezed again. Which was enough to bring him to a climax of his own.

Eric felt like he'd ceased to exist as a physical entity. Or his consciousness had freed itself of its earthly prison. Something like that. All he knew was infinite ecstasy. There was no pain, no soreness, nothing but purest pleasure.

Ever so slowly, his mind returned to his body. He became aware of his surroundings once more. Of the dull ache in his back. Of soft flesh of his mother's breasts, cupped in his hands. Of the awkward yet pleasurable sensation that came form his balls working overtime to pump his cum into his mother's womb. Of the sticky, warm fluid dribbling out of her vagina after he'd filled her up.

And, for a very brief instant, he felt something he couldn't quite describe. Whatever it was, it took place on another level of reality. It was like their Libidos joined together, and there ceased to be any meaningful distinction between the energy that resided within her versus that which lay within him. They were one being, spiritually if not physically.

You'd think after an experience like that, they'd call it an afternoon.

You'd be wrong. They were, in fact, just getting started.

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Scene 4

Setting: Gabriela and Jennifer's home in Los Angeles. A few hours after Scene 3.

POV: Gabriela

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So thoroughly satiated by the incredible afternoon with Eric, Gabriela had a hard time being as bothered by her encounter with Hank as she should have been. There was a part of her mind that kept insisting that she needed to figure out what she was going to tell Jennifer, who would be absolutely furious with her if she told the truth. But it was only a faint voice that spoke of such concerns. Easy to ignore.

"Gabby" had finally conquered Eric, and made him hers. Completely.

Conquered him so thoroughly, in fact, that they'd broken the bed in the hotel, as well as the bed she shared with Jennifer after they got home. She'd been awful tempted to leave them broken, as testament to her son's passion for her. But in the end, she fixed both.

That wasn't all though.

On top of destroying two beds, she'd milked her son dry. She hadn't meant to, of course, but she just couldn't get enough of his loving. So now she stood in the kitchen, going through the motions of preparing dinner, and feeling like she was walking on air, while her son was upstairs, sound asleep. And likely to remain there for some time.

As the remainder of the afternoon faded away though, and her afterglow slowly faded, she became increasingly concerned about what to say to Jennifer. If she didn't convince her wife that she'd made sure that Hank wouldn't harass any of their children again, there'd be another fight. Likely even worse than the last one. Which had been a real doozy itself. On the other hand, if she told her that she'd had a pleasant chat with Hank and he'd assured her that he was looking out for their best interests, Jennifer just might go ballistic.

Of course, that wasn't what she'd tell her. But it would be what the little brunette would hear if she recounted the interaction faithfully.

Would Jennifer believe her if she said that she'd threatened Hank and he'd backed down?

Gabriela herself wouldn't.

There were forces in this world before which Hank would bend rather than break. King Phil of House Bravo was one such.

Gabriela of House Moody was decidedly not.

And anyone who knew Hank would know that. They'd have to.

But something told her that her wife was hoping to hear exactly that story all the same. Would accept nothing less, if only because of her limitless disdain for their former husband.

What a shitty position to find herself in.

She really hated lying to her wife. There had been instances in the past where she'd done so. But never over something as big as this.

Most of the things she'd lied about, she could probably confess to at this point and trust that Jennifer wouldn't even care. But not this. If she lied about Hank and Jennifer ever discovered the truth, there'd be no way that she'd forgive her. She might even end the alliance between House Moody and House Hardt.

No, there was no use avoiding it.

She had to tell the truth.

It would be messy. And painful. No question about it. Jennifer would scream and yell and maybe even throw things at her. But after she vented, for a good long while mind, she'd see reason. After all, she'd would mostly be upset to hear that Gabriela had been reasonably polite to Hank. Had listened to what he had to say, and hadn't told him what a vile, soulless, despicable fucker he was. And maybe Hank was all those things. Perhaps he never would have abandoned his two wives and the five children he'd given them otherwise. But ultimately, Gabriela hadn't agreed to anything that wasn't already a good idea, and she'd guaranteed that Hank would stop terrorizing them. If Jennifer was going to lose some measure of respect for her over the way she'd handled it, so be it. But she wouldn't sabotage the agreement. She'd agree that they'd all be better off if they kept their heads down until the induction ceremony was over, then came straight back to the Playground and did their best to uphold the customs of the court and their vows of fealty to the king.

Gabriela wasn't looking forward to it. But she knew she'd made the right decision. Better this than to risk watching her wife tear down everything they'd built together.

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Scene 5

Setting: Gabriela and Jennifer's home in Los Angeles. Early in the morning on Annie's eighteenth birthday.

POV: Nick

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"So let me get this straight," Annie said. "You've both met our father?"

"Well, I'm not sure `met' is quite the word," Nick said.

Eric snorted.

"You know what I mean," Annie said, tipping back her Dixie cup.

Nick checked his watch. It was past four in the damn morning. Granted, his kid sister would only turn eighteen once, and it wouldn't kill him to make it a special evening for her. But when Eric had dragged him out of bed and told him to join the two of them, Nick had kinda thought there'd be rather more sex involved.

Instead, the three of them sat on Annie's bed, playing cards and drinking boxed wine. Ostensibly, they were playing for sex favors. But since they'd begun, they'd played all of four hands. And three of them had ended without a showdown, thus entitling the winner to no more than a modest pile of chips. It had only been after that first hand, when Nick had taken rags to the showdown as a gift to Annie, that any of them had ended up owning another any sex favors. After Annie shuddered her way through a modest orgasm, cumming far more quickly than Nick had intended, he'd thought things were off to a good start. He looked forward to losing another hand to her so that he could show her that his tongue was even more potent a weapon than his fingers. But he'd been dealt decent hands after that, and Annie and Eric had folded either right away or on the flop.

Which was to be expected. That was how poker went.

What was killing him was how little time they spent actually playing cards, and how much time they spent answering questions that could just as easily have been answered after they'd all slept. Questions their mothers would likely answer for them after the family had the big meeting they'd been promised for so long.

If the three of them were going to squeeze together on Annie's little twin bed while everyone else slept, shouldn't they be doing something a little naughtier?

"What did he look like?" his sister asked.

Nick looked at Eric and shrugged. "Didn't get much of a look. You?"

Eric scratched the back of his head. "I dunno. Weird."

"That's all I get?" Annie asked.

The musclebound goof chuckled.

Nick rolled his eyes. Eric was enjoying this.

And why shouldn't he be? He'd already spent a few hours initiating Annie. Fucking their skinny little sister and her surprisingly big tits six ways from Sunday. So what if she was more interested in hearing more about their father than she was in getting their dicks inside her. No skin off Eric's nose.

Not that Nick had any right to be jealous. He was supposed to have been Annie's first. Wasn't like anyone had told him to pass that opportunity off to Eric.

He didn't regret doing so either. Annie wasn't exactly his type, physically, and, more importantly, he'd never been as close to her as Eric was. She was, to his mind, a bit flaky. And superficial. She hung out with the types of kids Nick couldn't stand. Every one of them had ink and several piercings, though none of them were old enough to have gotten any of that done legally. Annie herself had a stud in her nose and one in her cheek, to say nothing of the parts he hadn't yet seen. She also had a tribal marking on her lower back.

A damn tramp stamp. His fucking kid sister.

Nick tried to picture Mom-Jay or Veronica with such a tattoo, and failed.

No, he was glad Eric had been her first. Not only for his sake, but both of theirs. Though Eric hadn't been as excited about it in the end as he had seemed a few weeks earlier, when the two of them had first agreed that he'd be the one to initiate her, there was still no doubt in Nick's mind that Eric had enjoyed it more than he would have. And that Annie had gotten more from being with her hunky dreamboat of a brother than she would have her nerdy, sarcastic one. Her friends all wanted Eric. Nick, though, they were mostly scared of.

Of course, Annie couldn't go and brag to her friends that she'd slept with the hottest guy any of them had ever met. But Nick knew his sister well enough to know that she'd have been picturing the looks they'd have had on their faces if she did.

And Eric would have been amused by that, if she'd told him. Which she probably had, for all Nick knew. Or cared. And that was just fine with him. As far as he was concerned, it was a sick twist of fate that Annie was his younger sister and Patty Eric's.

He'd agreed to climb out of bed at 3:30am for a reason though. If this was how they were going to pass the time, he'd just as soon go back to bed.

"Not comfortable talking about how hot another guy is? Is that it?" Annie asked, giggling. "Guys are so cute sometimes."

Eric frowned. "No, it's not that." He looked at Nick. Stared at him, really. In a way that Nick was not at all used to his brother staring at him. "I can admit when another guy's hot," Eric said at last. "He's a bit goofy looking, and a girl who likes her man built like a man might be better off looking going down the hall to the next door, but Nick's not bad."

"Thanks," Nick said, in a voice that could wilt a flower.

Annie giggled again.

Damn, but she did have some nice breasts. And the way they shook when she giggled was hard not to notice. She didn't really have much by way of hips, and Nick preferred his women a bit more proportional, but he couldn't deny that his kid sister had a certain appeal.

"Dad's okay, I guess," Eric continued. "Not cute, like Nick. Or gorgeous, like myself."

Nick gagged.

"Maybe, if you were being generous, you could say he's ruggedly handsome. But the `rugged' part fits a lot better than the `handsome.' His face looks like worn leather. With a couple of serious scars."

"That sounds closer to `hideous' than `handsome' so far," Annie said.

Eric chewed at the lid of his paper cup. "No, he's not hideous. I don't know, Annie, I'm not used to describing men to women like this. He doesn't look like any guy you've seen before, I can say that much. I feel like an idiot for not immediately guessing he was one of us. He has these bright green eyes that apparently glow in the fucking dark."

"They do at that," Nick confirmed.

That had been about all he'd noticed about the face in the window that night.

"Didn't notice it at the time," Eric continued. "Since it was broad daylight. But yeah, he's got eyes that I guess women might go weak in the knees for."

Annie had fallen quiet, her breathing accelerated. Those swollen breasts of hers threatened to pop out the top of her ridiculously tight T-shirt.

And her Libido?

Nick almost got off himself, just feeling the excitement his sister was struggling to contain.

"But he's bad right?" Annie asked, breathless.

To judge by her words, one might think their sister had meant "bad" as in "we don't like him." But even Eric had to have picked up on the fact that she was reacting the way she and friends always did to bad boys.

"Oh, yeah, a real rebel," Nick said.

Annie glowered at him.

"He's the reason our mothers have hardly spoken to each other lately," Nick added.

"They what?" Annie asked, brow furrowed.

Nick sighed. They'd been putting on a show when their kids were around. Keeping up appearances, as if everything were normal. He'd assumed that even they didn't expect anyone to fall for it. Should have known better. Like most people, his sister didn't see what she didn't want to see. Nick could almost envy her for that. But only almost.

Even Eric looked at him like he'd just dropped a bomb.

For fuck's sake.

Veronica had picked up on it. The two of them had talked about it. But apparently they were the only ones. As usual.

So Nick explained to them what he thought was going on between their parents. How, as best as he could tell, Mom-Jay was hurt that Mom-Gee wasn't more disgusted by their former husband. Wasn't as outraged, as terrified, as ready to tear her hair out and rip a certain someone's balls off.

"Are you sure about that?" Eric asked.

Nick poured them all some more wine. "No, jackass, I'm not. That's why I said it was just a hunch. You did catch that part, right?"

"If you have an off switch," Annie said, "I'd appreciate it if you'd use it. We can call that my birthday present."

He sighed, leaned over, and kissed his sister on the cheek. Then he turned back to Eric and said, "What I meant to say was, `That's a wonderful and insightful question, Eric. Thank you for bringing to my attention, in such a diplomatic manner to boot, that perhaps I might be mistaken in my reading of events."'

Eric barked a laugh.

Annie tried to frown, but then snickered and allowed a faint grin to break through her stern and disapproving mask after all. "Smart-ass." She took a sip of wine. "If you can't turn it off, can you at least dial it back?"

"Dial what back?" Nick asked, hiding his smirk behind his cup.

His sister reached over and smacked his upper arm.

"Anyway," Eric said, hiding a smirk of his own.

One of the things Nick admired about his brother was his thick skin. Unlike some guys with that much swagger, Eric wasn't overcompensating for some deeper insecurity. He was that fucking impressed with himself, which was obnoxious, but also comfortable enough with himself that he really didn't care what anyone said about him.

"I guess I kinda picked up on that," his brother continued. "But I, uh, kinda I thought it was about of me."

Nick and Annie both burst out laughing.

And more than a little wine got spilled on their sister's bedcovers.

Before she could freak out, though, Nick cleaned the mess up. Without even lifting a finger. He just looked at the spills wine, imagined they were gone, and then they were. Not even the slightest stain remained.

His sister stared at him in awe. Then blushed. "I know you guys keep saying that we have, like, these magical powers. And I think I'm starting to get the hang of how some of them work. But I keep forgetting that they're not just for sex."

"Easy enough to get preoccupied with that side of things," Nick said.

Her blush deepened.

"Seriously, though," Eric said, eager to get the focus of attention back on himself. "I thought Jennifer was just jealous of how often Gabby spends the night in my bed, instead of hers. Didn't occur to me that they were fighting about our father."

"I think so," Nick said. "Though, again, I admit that I'm just guessing here."

This time, though, his brother didn't push him on that.

"You think maybe he regrets leaving us?" Annie asked. "Maybe he's not trying to intimidate us. Just wondering how we're doing. Checking up on us, you know?"

Nick felt a pang of sorrow mixed with pity. The poor girl sounded so hopeful.

He'd been about to point out that if their father was wondering how they were doing, he might invite them out for coffee, rather than staring through windows at them while they were getting busy. But all he said was, "Sorry, kiddo, but I doubt it."

"Wasn't exactly the impression I got either," Eric said.

Annie's shoulders slumped, and her lower lip pushed out.

Nick wrapped an arm around his sister's shoulders and gave her a firm squeeze. "We've gotten along just fine without him so far."

"Yeah," she said, nodding.

Her voice sounded distant.

"So. Whaddaya say we deal another hand?" Eric asked.

"Sure," Annie said. "Bout time one of you guys tossed some more chips my way."

"Chips, huh?" Nick asked.

She flashed him a devilish grin.

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Scene 6

Setting: Gabriela and Jennifer's home in Los Angeles. Late morning on Annie's eighteenth birthday.

POV: Veronica

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It was strange.

Veronica felt like she should be jealous of Annie, after what Nick had told her had happened in their sister's room the night before. Or early that morning, really.

Not so long ago, she'd tried to make an impression on Nick by agreeing to share him with another guy. And, unless she was mistaken, it had worked. But even if they hadn't been interrupted that night by their father's peeping Tom act, she didn't think she'd have worked her way up to agreeing to take one guy in her ass and another in her vag.

Leave it to Annie to go there on her first night.

Apparently the wild girl act wasn't entirely an act.

That didn't make Veronica any less convinced that it was a cry for attention, mind. But rather than finding her sister's behavior distasteful, she found herself thinking that it was sad. That it had to be hard for Annie to blaze her own path without going to extremes, given the unusual family they had. Two older sisters, who'd already set a high bar for either athletic or academic success. And no father to make her feel like a little princess.