The Sex Crystals Pt. 08

But she had managed to make the wedding. Josh and Aimee hadn't married on the following Thursday, but they had completed the ceremony a couple of months later. Louise, already struggling to walk, had spent her last full day without the chair, watching her son get married. Admittedly, she spent most of the day sitting down, but she was happy as she hadn't been in years to see her big, brave son take his new wife by the hand and lead them in their first dance.

Bex had fallen hard for the family, too. Naturally thin and pale, she was very shy, but had been obsessed with Aimee from the first time they had met. When Josh and Aimee married, Bex was their bridesmaid with Robbie as best man. Bex tried to keep it a secret, but it was obvious to all that she was utterly smitten with Robbie, although those not in the know assumed it was a teenage crush and nothing more. Nevertheless, when the two of them had danced together at the wedding, her heart had almost burst.

When Louise passed away, Bex went into a funk no-one seemed able to help her with. Even Josh, with whom she'd always been close couldn't talk her round for long. In the end, it was Robbie who helped her the most, holding her hand, hugging her shoulders and just being there.

Bex struggled to sleep, but Robbie would lie on top of the covers on her bed, holding her hand or stroking her hair until she cried herself to sleep. After a few months of this, she recovered enough that he didn't need to stay in her room for as long - although he was there with her most of the time, anyway. A year after that, Robbie moved into a home of his own, a few streets away, and just two doors down from the house Aimee and Josh had bought six months before.

Bex stayed with Mike and Sarah for a while, before technically moving in with her brother and Aimee, although she had bedrooms at all three houses and would flit between them all at will. Everyone loved to have her with them and the whole family would get together for Sunday dinner every week. It was the close family group she had dreamed of in her cold, damp bedroom on the thirteenth floor of that draughty block of flats a few years and a whole lifetime ago.

Three days past eighteen, Bex lost her virginity to the man she considered her second brother. Robbie had held out that long to make sure she was sure. She was.

A month later, the family explained to her about their personal lifestyle and Bex was stunned to learn that Robbie, Aimee, Josh, Mike and Sarah had managed to keep their activities hidden from her for almost four and a half years! They had rarely slowed down, although things had been harder to keep under wraps until Aimee and Josh had moved out. After that, there had been a whole new house - two once Robbie got his own place - wherein they could entertain themselves without as much risk of being caught.

Bex was nervous about partaking in family fun time, but that lasted all of a week before she "accidentally" walked in on Josh, Sarah and Mike enjoying each other, whilst Aimee was taking innumerable pictures on her phone and directing the action like it was a porn set. Bex had stood, in the doorway, for about three seconds, listening to the voices in her head - the ones she hadn't heard until the day she became eighteen.

The voices told her things. How much she would love what was happening. How much fun she and her family would have. The fact that she would never have children of her own, the voices kept secret.

She considered what the voices told her for at least a second before she practically ripped off her clothes and attacked Josh, pushing him over and taking him inside her before anyone had a chance to say a word.

She kissed her big brother and begged him to fuck her and, like the good big brother he was, he did. Twice.

From that day on, the whole family got together as much as they could. Life was good. Bex and Robbie married and, whilst neither of the girls produced grandchildren, despite unimaginable levels of effort, Mike and Sarah were as happy with their lot as they could ever have wished.

BANG!

The car tyre blew and Harry McDonald wrestled with the car as it careened, out of control, on the dark, lonely road. He couldn't bring the car to a stop before it slammed through the bushes to the side of the road and down a ditch. The front of the car crumpled and smoke rose from the bonnet.

Harry, his wife Claire and their nineteen year old twins, Connor and Izzy, clambered out of the car. Harry knew jack shit about cars and the rest of the family knew even less, but all of them knew that smoke from the bonnet was a bad sign. When flames started to lick out of the front grill, things seemed to be just that little bit worse.

The family scrambled away from the car, knowing there was nothing they could do. Within an hour, there would be nothing left but a rusted, melted husk of metal and rubber.

Right now, though, the problems were more immediate. They were stuck in the middle of fuck knows where and now it was starting to rain. Not very heavily to start with, but the wind buffeted them as the clouds covered the moon up in a way that suggested that heavy rain was very much an option.

"What the fuck, now," Connor cried out. Of the whole family, he had suffered the only real injury, getting his foot caught in a hole and twisting his ankle quite badly as he got out of the car. He was really pissed off and his ankle throbbed.

"Fuck knows," Izzy answered, revelling in the use of the word. Until very recently, both teens would have gotten a clip round the ear for using curse words, but their parents had slowly come to the conclusion that their kids were now adults and, as such, could be permitted to use adult words.

"What's that over there," Claire pointed into the gloom. About a mile away, they could see a strange, purple glow, illuminating the shadow of what appeared to be a rundown old farmhouse.

"It's dry, that's what it is," Harry answered. He hated getting wet. Harry was the kind of man who took an umbrella to the beach on the hottest day of the year, just in case. He was pissed off enough at the car, currently smouldering away a few feet behind them, but he was even more pissed off to realise that his beloved umbrella was in the pocket of the passenger door.

Harry turned to go back for it, only to see the flames in the engine block start to head towards the main cabin of the car. He fancied he could see them flicking out of the air vents inside the car. This was probably not the case, but there were enough flames to convince him that going to the car was likely to be a short-cut to a hot, fiery death. A thwump sound came from the engine block and the bonnet bounced open a little, flames licking through and into the night sky. Fuck the umbrella, he thought.

The family looked at the farmhouse. It was old, dilapidated, desperately in need of some repair. But it had what looked like a porch, which seemed dry and - if there was someone in there - they could ask for a chance to get out of the rain and maybe even to call for a taxi. Harry swore as he remembered that his iPhone was in his jacket pocket and that his jacket was still in the car.

Another thwump from the car and the temperature rose, noticeably around them. Each knew that this was not a good sign. The farmhouse may look like the biggest shithole this side of Christendom, but it had the advantage of not being on fire.

Three of the family walked, whilst Connor limped, over to the farmhouse.

And that's it. I ended the story because, quite frankly, I couldn't see what the heck I was supposed to do with it or where to go next. I have a lot of respect for those writers who carry on a story for six-hundred and forty-two chapters, but I can't do it! Maybe they try harder. Maybe I'm just crap at it. I'm inclined to think it's the latter.

Still, I hope you enjoyed this brief window into the lives of a family of four total strangers. I have no experience of pretty much anything in these tales, so for everything that I got wrong (and there was, doubtlessly, a lot!) I apologise.

Farewell.