Mouse Bk. 05 Ch. 01

Damn, she thought. She felt like a teenager. Her mind wandered away in a blink, and always to sex, to boys, except they weren't boys anymore, they were men. She wasn't a girl, she was a grown woman. She should be able to control her hormones. Still, she added more to the list.

A girl's kiss. A man's cum. Both at once.

Melanie hesitated just one moment, before adding what she knew she really wanted.

My broth...

Melanie stopped herself mid word. She tore the bottom of the list off, crumbled it in a ball, and dropped it into the garbage disposal, not wishing to take a chance on someone finding it, even torn, crumpled and buried in a waste basket.

This was getting worse and worse with every long, boring, passing day.

She thought about sex. She visualized it, the hot, silky feel of a man's cum dripping on her face, tickling her lips, held in her mouth, feeling content in the knowledge that she had the skill and the beauty and the sexuality, and the desire, to draw it from a man.

She imagined a girl's lips touching hers, stealing some of the cum from her.

Men didn't kiss the way girls did. Their mouths were large and wide and hungry. They were overpowering, forceful and demanding. Melanie did like that. It made her feel feminine to be kissed like that, by a man, to be irresistibly taken.

Women were different. She liked the tender, compliant, hesitant touch of a woman's soft, warm lips. She liked feeling that she was the one in control when she was kissing. She liked the thought of a young, tender, pretty woman held firmly in her own embrace, their bodies pressing together, with the naive girl's petite little mouth entirely under Melanie's control. She could almost feel the young beauty shivering in excitement within her grip.

Melanie remembered Little shuddering with an orgasm in her arms. She remembered the soft, warm feel of her eager lips. She remembered Michael crying out as his molten cum decorated Little's lips, inviting the most Melanie to enjoy the most wicked kiss that she could ever imagine.

Melanie stopped her thoughts there. She looked at the liquor cabinet, considering one quick drink to calm her mind, to keep it from racing. She turned a cold stare instead to the bare, sanitized kitchen counter.

She'd been drinking too much lately. It was causing problems. It had before, for a big part of her life, and now it was again.

It was also a big part of how she'd gotten to where she was now. It was why she'd watched Michael and Mouse in the first place. It was why she and Mouse had touched, and lost control.

It was a problem, a habit, a weakness that she needed to get back under control.

In a moment, she'd grabbed what remained of the list, and her keys. She launched out the front door into the sunlight, heading off to do some proper, mature, responsible homemaker shopping, and staying out of trouble.

<8 Pieces

Assorted photos lay scattered, randomly, overlapping each other at odd angles on the bedspread like so many remnants of a shattered life, like a puddle of moments after a life-shower. Amidst them, Melanie enjoyed Dan's loud groan as she took his cock deeply into her throat yet again. Her lips attentively worked the based of his cock even as she cooly examined one picture lying before her.

She had been sorting through them, organizing them, or so she'd innocently claimed, when Dan slipped into the room. He'd simply stood before her as he unbuckled his belt, eventually exposing an already hard and excited prick in need of love and affection. She loved these random, unexpected demands on her talents, and he knew it. She loved being needed, and treated as if her services were simply always on call, at his whim.

She particularly didn't mind it this time at all, not under the circumstances, with the pictures here spread out around her. She could make unexpectedly good use of him, with them, right now. Rick was just downstairs, hopefully absorbed in a video game. That made it even more exciting.

She kept her eyes focused on one photo as she easily swallowed him whole. It lay inconspicuously atop the others, a slightly faded 8 by 10 of a couple. Michael's eyes smiled back at her from the picture, a much younger Michael, healthy and strong, looking too young and too goofy in a rented tuxedo. He'd had hair on his head, then.

Her own younger, teenage self smiled enchantingly if somewhat awkwardly out at her, posing beside him, embarrassed at her degrading situation. Her prom dress looked awful to her now, garishly overdone, as they always did twenty years later, but she herself looked striking in it. The dress had really made her generous expanse of cleavage look very, very good.

She had no idea how the boys had resisted that until college. She didn't have to be a steady girlfriend, if she didn't look good on their arm, although that would have been nice. But they could have just played with her.

Michael and Melanie made a cute couple, though.

One masculine hand caressed the broad curve of her hip in a smooth, firm, motion, trying to indirectly urge her into the rhythm he wanted. Dan would have to be patient. She wanted her time, this time, with Michael to last. Still, she compensated him by sucking hard on the head of his dick, while tickling the rim with her tongue, yet with her eyes never once leaving the frozen image of her baby brother.

Yes, Melanie had had to go with her brother to the prom. He was virtually the only guy tall and broad enough to look good at her side. Michael was that tall then, too, even as a pathetic high school freshman. And no one else had asked. Melanie had asked a few boys, and been crushed by their refusals.

Melanie closed her eyes, thinking his name as she lowered her throat to envelop the cock again. Michael. She wondered briefly if she could have tried this then, with her date, her brother, if she knew then what she knew now. Of course she would never have had the nerve, she knew she didn't really even now, but she enjoyed the fantasy.

Melanie slipped her lips back along the smooth sides of the cock, savoring every inch of the journey, imagining the sound of her own name coming from her baby brother's breathless lips. She teased and tasted the cock, momentarily closing her eyes, thinking "Michael" again in her mind. Dan groaned as she twirled her tongue around the head, making her smile at his reaction. Then, taking it all again deeply into her mouth, she sucked as hard as she could.

Michael.

She swallowed him whole, as fast as a striking snake.

Beside the prom picture was a wedding photo, taken with someone's old Kodak instamatic. Melanie studied it calmly, while holding the cock far down her throat. Melanie and Michael mugged, cheek to cheek, for the camera, dancing on her wedding day. He looked handsome and sexy, older, and so much more of a man by then. He was already losing his hair. You could see a lot of her cleavage then, too, in a wedding dress that lifted and squashed and threatened to spill out the flesh of her breasts. What a slut she was, she thought. Why hadn't more men noticed?

Melanie closed her eyes as she rapidly pulled back, just barely, gently scraping his shaft with her teeth, before letting him almost loose, then swallowing him again, over and over, fucking him fast, trying to draw him closer to orgasm. When she could hear the excitement growing in his labored breathing, she slowed again. She opened her eyes to look at the image of Michael's warm eyes shining back at her from above an inviting smile in yet another random photo.

Almost all of the pictures were of Michael. Dan would never notice. He certainly wouldn't attach any meaning to it. She had been intending to tend to her own needs, her own body, all by herself, with the pictures, but this was so much better.

She couldn't have asked Dan for a better time to come in begging for her to service his cock. She let her eyes flit from picture to picture, admiring her brother's features, remembering their times together, while all the time pretending she held her baby brother's cock between her lips, struggling to come into her loving, agile, waiting mouth.

She felt Dan tense. He was almost there. Her brother was almost there. She was doing it. She'd done it.

Both of Dan's hands gripped her head powerfully, pressing her down onto him. She had no fear. He could do as he pleased. After all of the practice she'd had in the last months, after she'd learned she was so naturally good at this, at sucking cock, at deep throating cock, by now she could relax easily. With images of Michael in her mind, with the thought of taking her little brother's cock all the way down her throat, to the very base, it was easy. She even enjoyed the feel of the angry, powerful hands forcing her down onto the cock. She encouraged it. She'd let Michael do that to her.

Michael would never do it that way, she was sure. She was sure that even if she begged, or ordered, him, he couldn't be that harsh. He would be gentle and kind to a fault. But it was her fantasy. She could pretend. He could do that to her, if he wanted. She would certainly let him.

She imagined Michael's hands in her hair, forcing her down onto him, forcing his cock deeply into her throat as he prepared to fill her with hot, incestuous cum. Dan pushed her hard, causing her to lose sight of the one picture she wanted to look at as he came. Melanie struggled, prying Dan's legs apart, frantically moving them aside so that she could see him, her sexy baby brother, staring up at her from a portrait from their parents' recent wedding anniversary.

They fought like that for a while, Dan angrily forcing her head down onto his cock exactly when and where he wanted, while she struggled herself to position his legs, or her head, to see the picture she desperately wanted to have in her sight. Losing the battle, panicked, she wriggled and moved her body, reaching for the photo, trying desperately to find it before her mouth filled with sweet, hot cum.

She found the photo, moved it, holding Dan's legs apart so she could see it, all only just in time to listen to Dan's long, low, muffled groan. The cock stiffened, her cock, his cock, Michael's cock, and it filled her with his magic gift of imagined wicked, illegal, incestuous cum as his eyes happily beamed out at her.

* * *

"What's up, Mel?"

Mouse held the cell phone to her ear as her other hand hunted through her bag, pulling out the towel to wipe the sweat from her brow after a long dance session.

"Hi, Little. I was just curious. Did you want some pictures I have of Michael?"

Mouse stopped, forgetting the slimy feel of the sweat, suddenly intrigued.

"Pictures? What kind of pictures?"

"You know, old pictures. Snap shots. Of when he was younger."

"Hell, yes! Can I pick some out when I come visit?"

"I'll send them to you now. All of them. They're just collecting dust here. I haven't even looked at them in years."

"What made you think of them?"

"I was just going through things, getting rid of junk. I couldn't bear throwing them out, but I really don't want to keep them. They're just clutter."

"Which one is the funniest?"

"Of course that's the first thing you want, to abuse the poor boy."

"Of course. Now spill."

"Michael in a tuxedo, as my prom date."

"What? Michael took you to your prom? I never knew that."

"It's not like I ever wanted anyone to know. It was the only way a gawky girl my size was going to get a date. Michael was way too young, too. It was so embarrassing. I would rather that Dad had taken me than Michael."

"You shit. I would have killed to have had Michael take me to my prom."

"Are you kidding? Good God. Come on, you had like three different guys ask you, really hot guys. You couldn't have had a crush on him then."

"I would have killed."

"Bullshit. I don't believe you. It's the most embarrassing thing any girl could endure. Look, I have to run, but I'll send them to you."

"Soon. Overnight them."

Melanie laughed.

"Bye, Little."

"Bye, Mel. Overnight!"

* * *

"A little to the left," she told him.

Michael obediently shifted the heavy picture frame to the left, grunting softly, though more to express his exasperation than due to the awkward weight and dimensions of the damn frame. The decorative beading dug annoyingly into his palms, too. He wasn't enjoying any of this.

"Are you sure Mouse is going to like this?"

Melanie had been working on him for months and months to redecorate the place. She had never liked his ex-wife's tastes to begin with. But now, she said, it was also time to start to eliminate any traces of her, both for him, and for Mouse.

She kept saying he needed to do it to make Mouse feel more welcome and comfortable here.

"Mona will love it. Trust me. Anyway, you're the one that lives here all the time. Do you like it?"

He knew he couldn't, or had no interest in, redecorating a house. He had said that Mouse should be the one helping him, though, not Melanie. Let Mouse pick what Mouse liked, or what she wanted Michael to like.

Melanie immediately scoffed at that idea, and Michael knew she was right. Mouse's tastes were too outlandish for Michael, and while cute, quirky novelties might look good in a small apartment, they'd make a travesty of a house.

It was better to let Melanie do it.

"No, you know, that's just not the right size for that wall. Take it down. Try the mirror instead."

Michael scowled visibly, while letting out a long, slow, frustrated exhale of breath.

It needed to be done, and it was better to let Melanie do it, but that didn't mean he had to enjoy it.

"Look, let's stop for a while," Melanie offered, obviously knowing she was pushing too much.

Without waiting for a response, she moved to sit very properly and stiffly on the edge of the couch. Michael quickly plopped down right beside her. She recoiled, almost imperceptibly, as if he was intruding impolitely into her personal space. He wasn't in the mood to oblige her, to move to alleviate her discomfort.

He glanced at the pictures Mel had arranged on the coffee table, assorted framed pictures of Mouse and Michael together. They weren't staying there. Mel was just trying to decide which ones she could hang on which walls.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" he asked, nodding at the little pile of photos on the table. "Putting pictures of Mouse and I, together, up on the walls?"

"If we scatter in some others, like Dan and me, and the kids, or Mom and Dad, then no one will notice. They'll just be family photos. Lot's of people put up pictures of their family."

"Not me, not of Mouse. If I'd ever done that before, you would have noticed. Mom and Dad will notice."

"They will, but that's okay, because I'll tell them the truth, that I put them up, or rather, I told you exactly what and where to put them up."

Michael dropped it. She was right. And he loved the idea of having Mouse's face all over the place. Just the thought of constantly seeing her beauty and smile lifted his spirits.

"It will be nice to be able see her face more often. More easily."

"You know, you could change that other ways," Melanie offered, straightening one of the pictures, obviously trying to act distracted as she said it. It was the picture of Michael and Mouse with the Chicago skyline behind them.

"I'm not moving to Chicago, if that's what you mean."

"No," Melanie said much too quickly. "No, but you could get her to move back home."

"Melanie, do you have any idea how difficult that would be? Do you know how quickly and easily we'd get caught?"

"You just have to show better judgement, and some restraint. You could do it."

"No."

"You'd both be happier."

"Melanie, no. I can't believe you think that would be a good idea. I'm not considering it."

"You know you already have."

Michael got up quickly.

"Let's go, we have more to do. I want to get it over with."

"It would be a lot better than just a picture of her," was the last thing that Melanie said, getting in the last word, before dropping the subject.

* * *

Melanie lay awake as Dan snored uproariously. Her lack of sleep wasn't his fault, but she'd still blame it on him when she was cranky tomorrow. The ceiling needed painting. She could tell, even in the dark.

Her mind raced. It had been doing that a lot, lately. Sleep never came easily anymore.

With the large, blank canvas of the ceiling in her view, she thought of all of the pictures of her and Michael, and Michael and Mouse.

She wasn't sure if she was doing the right thing. Maybe she should leave them alone. They'd probably drift apart, given time. Mona would find someone eventually, maybe no one perfect, maybe no one with the magnetic pull of the one man she really should never even kiss, but at least someone good enough.

But Michael probably wouldn't. He would be, and stay, miserable and lonely.

And then there was Melanie herself. Michael was turning into too much of a temptation. He'd always held an attraction for her. It had never been overtly sexual. He was just cuddly. He was just always there. He was just hers. She'd must have fantasized about him some, sexually, back when she was in high school, but she couldn't even remember having done it.

Every woman must do something like that, at least once, Melanie told herself. It was natural, as long as it had its limits. As long as one didn't try to act on the fantasy.

But now she couldn't stop. Every time she saw him, he was just her brother. She was fine. She even tried thinking about kissing him, or seducing him, on occasion, in his presence. Whenever she did she was totally revolted by the idea. She couldn't bring herself to really even think of it around him.

So why was she worried?

Because at night, in the dark, naked in a bed, after a drink, or during or after sex, whenever there was a hard, naked cock around, it all came out. It swamped her. She did want him. She would touch him. She would kiss him. If she ever had the chance, if the situation were ever right, she knew she would cross the line.

In the right place, in the right mood, at the right time, she'd do the wrong thing.

So she had to make the line wider. She had to make it harder. She had to do it for all of them.

Mouse and Michael had to stay together. Mouse had to move back home, and, if she could work it, live with him, at least for a while, at least until Melanie had outgrown this phase.

Mona probably deserved better than a fling with her much older brother. She deserved a man that could be a husband and could give her a family. It was the last thing Mouse wanted, at the moment, but eventually she would.

But for now, for a while, Michael was good for her. Maybe he'd teach her what she needed to know to get there.

Michael definitely needed Mouse. It was a shame it could never last, because otherwise Mona could probably keep him happy until the end of his days. He really didn't want or need anything more. As sinful and wrong as it would be, it seemed like it was his one and only way to end his loneliness.

A guy like Michael wasn't likely to find true love after the age of forty. At least, not twice, Mel admitted dourly.

So Mouse needed Michael, for a while. Michael needed Mouse. Melanie needed Michael to need Mouse, just to keep Mel from ruining all of their lives. She'd almost ruined her own once before, after college. It had taken quite a while to sort herself out. Having come this far, having built everything she and Dan now had, she didn't need to make a mess of things.

Melanie rolled on her side, mind racing, trying to think good thoughts, trying not to let her mind wander to various aspects of her brother's tasty physical charms, teasing her like a very sinful box of assorted chocolates.

<8 Interactions