The Slumber Party Pt. 01

I scooch over, and sit across her sideways, but with just enough mental faculties to realize that my butt needs to go on the floor, not on her thighs. I'm too heavy. The burden of age. Still, her legs snug me in place, and it's almost like I'm actually sitting on her lap once again, same as when I was little.

The back of my neck nestles into the crook of Brooke's elbow. She scrunches up my knees and holds me there, all bound up in a little ball, her regressive hulking baby of a little brother. "Shhh, shhh, shhh."

My brain floats up on a tide of...well, I don't know what! I've never done fucking Molly before! But it's rising on something. A little buoy out there, bopping over the waves. Oh, here comes a big one, a goddamn swell! I nestle into my Sister's bosom, and she hugs me there.

Jesus fuck, my brain is going wild.

Brooke kisses the top of my head, looks down on me matronly. She says, "The thing with Molly is, the scary part is the artificial emotions that the drug implants. What you're feeling isn't real, but the fun part is, you can pick out the emotions you want to make real. What do you want to make real, Mason?"

Jesus. "I'm happy right here."

"Good." She kisses my forehead again. "You're the only one who is."

I ride up high on a crest, but the backside drops out. My stomach lurches as I fall into its trough. Cold depression.

"Why don't you come back?" It's a whimper, but I got to ask. "Thanksgiving, Christmas. Is that what I'm worth?"

"I swear. It's always all over the place with you." She says that harshly, but she cradles me in tighter. "Didn't you just call me a basic domestic? A has-been? What'd you mean? Like, when am I going to start pooping out kids?"

Taken aback, I ask, "Where'd that come from?"

"It's what domestics do. I'm about that age. Kid conceived at twenty-three, waddle around for nine months, shit 'em out when I'm twenty-four. That means I'll be forty-two when they graduate high-school. Cycle continues. Grandparents by fifty. Great-grandparents by seventy. It's a great life, isn't it?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess?"

"It's a great-fucking-life, isn't it?"

Even I'm not dense enough to disregard what she's putting down. "I mean, it's your life, isn't it? If you don't like it, change it."

"Oh, big words coming from you. What, Dad got you running those suicides in the driveway?"

Uh, yeah, and sled-pulls in back. Weight room by six every morning. I don't say that, though.

"And Mom, she serve you that Stevia smothered meatloaf? Always with dry pasta or steamed potatoes, no butter or salt, for the positive carbs."

I wish. Creatine, kale, creatine, kale. I'd forgotten what Stevia even tastes like. Hell, even the smell of a Diet Coke is too much sugar, Dad says.

"Seriously Mason," Brooke continues, "You got no fucking idea." I hear her sniffle. "I know I'm a fucking domestic! This was our weekend. You know, like, I'm off the pill, and this is prime baby making time. He had it all planned."

Oh.

"You little bastard," she calls me, "you asked; that's why I'm back. I don't want to be a grandma at fifty."

I guess, well, if we're competing here...

"Brooke," I whimper into her chest, "Dad's gotten worse."

"Oh" is what she tells me.

She knows exactly what that means, doesn't keep trying to convince me of how she has it worse.

"So, you know, why don't you visit?" I ask again.

She thinks and ponders, and all the while, I hear my heart race, and my brain bobs over the crashing and rising waves, but she's holding me snug.

Eventually, she mutters, "Because I'm a basic domestic. Dad and Mom are over the moon about baby stuff. 'Congratulations, son!' And Dad pats him on the back. And Mom's just gushing. And..." Brooke's eyes flash. "Shit. You know what?" She chuckles. "I'm a breeding mare."

She's being loud. Mom and Dad are sleeping in the other room.

But, hey, her life might be set, but at least mine's going well.

"We almost made it to State, last year," I told her. "I did good. I played well. Maybe next year, I'll even make second string at Texas Tech, Dad says. Still waiting on the letter."

I wrapped my arm across her back. "I've put a lot of thought into it. And you know, I really don't miss you"

"Oh," she says.

My mind is drawn up onto a crest. "I miss when you were here. When you were still a star. That was better." Back when all the focus was on her.

We don't say anything for a bit. I break the silence. "Amaury Guichon. Remember when I wanted to be him?" Maybe, she does; maybe, she doesn't care.

Brooke surprises me. "Yes," she says. "You were melting down Hershey's bars in the double boiler. Grandma got you a little stamp with your own chocolatier logo. God. Those were abominations you made, always an over-charred and bubbly mess. Like, how do you fuck up chocolate that's already been made into chocolate?"

"Yeah..."

We sit in silence again, at least, until I hear a candy wrapper rustle. She nudges me around enough to where she can pop a Lindor truffle in her mouth. "What?" She tilts her head. "You want one?"

I hear another candy wrapper. She pokes a white chocolate into my mouth, and Holy Hell, did my tongue explode in sickly sweetness. Like, it's already overly sensitized to sweets from eating all that bitter kale, and the Molly just intensifies everything a hundred fold, and on top of all that, those things really are just pure raw super-extracted sugary ooze.

I immediately spit it out into my hand, and just hold it there. What do I do?

"Really?" Sis snatches up my half melted chocolate and pops it into her mouth. Munch, munch, gulp. I guess, waste not, want not?

A piercing thought strikes me. "I don't like chocolate anymore." Too much sweet. Dad and Mom ruined that joy for me.

I hear Brooke huff and roll her eyes. "I swear, you're such a baby."

She unwraps another one, but she doesn't eat it. I peek up and see her long tongue stretch from her mouth. She pinches the truffle and strokes it along her tongue. Lap, lap, lap. Then she hesitates for a moment before she pinches my cheeks, the oversized baby in her lap. Automatically, I open my mouth, and just like what Sophie had done to me earlier, my sister leans down and shoves her entire outstretched tongue into my mouth, clear on down until her lips smoosh around my own.

Her tongue slathers along my taste buds. My sister, a hint of chocolatey sweetness. The taste of her mixes with the sensual stimulation, and my entire sensory perceptions ignite in white hot sparks. The skin on skin contact feels amazing, soft and wet.

Before I've had enough, she pulls out. I see her smear the truffle over her tongue again, and in the time that I'm able to draw two breaths, she's already thrust her tongue back into my mouth.

She feeds me like this over and over again. As she does, I think, this is the same tongue that was just slathered in my semen, and all of a sudden, my balls ache with electric sparkles. My panic and every other negative feeling disappears, and I realize what Sophie meant by twisting those emotions into sex.

That's what Molly is all about. Now, I understand.

Twist those emotions into my sister's sex.

I'm her thrall once again; I realize that's right where she wants me. She needs to feel bigger than someone right now. But I don't care. She makes me feel good.

Her forehead bumps into mine, and we dwell in silence like that, her body cradling me.

Behind us, I hear a plastic wrapper. Sister's eyes go huge. We jerk apart, both suddenly and very keenly aware that there are two other people in this room.

Slowly, I creak my head around. We have an audience, and they're just munching on snacks off in the bleachers.

Sophie's head is leaned back across Blair's lap. Her little body is just as naked as the day she was born. "That was hot." Her voice is light and airy, clearly overtaken by the exact same drug as me.

The pair are facing us, almost like spectators in the stands, but they're not paying us any mind at that moment. Brooke unravels a chocolate. Sophie sticks out her tongue. Her girlfriend lathers it there, then leans down—and it's not a kiss—, but Blair swallows up Sophie's tongue. She sucks it in and out.

Sophie's fingers splay apart her bare pussy. I only have a vague idea of what all the parts are, but I do see Sophie's middle finger poke in and out of a tight pink hole. It grips her knuckles every time she pulls her finger out, and pooches in against every thrust. Blair slathers more of the chocolate on Sophie's mouth, then sucks it off the smaller girl's tongue again.

They're copying us, but with one major exception: Sophie bucks her hips. Her finger is soon replaced by Blairs who just seems to know all the right spots. Fast faps—pure finger fucking—circular rubbing, and Sophie draws her knees up to her bare chest, spreads them as wide as she can part, stretches her legs out, points her toes up in the air, and all of this is directly facing me and my sister. The cheering section has switched around. Me and Brooke now have a front row view. Sophie's showing me things. She's aware of that.

My friend's pants are becoming more frantic. Her stomach spasms in and out. Down nestled between her splayed cheeks, her asshole opens and closes, puckers in and out, gaping for breath against Blair's relentless assault into the hole that's only an inch above.

Sophie cries out, bleated shrieks—She'll wake Mom and Dad!—but it's immediately muted by Blair shoving a pillow into the girl's face. And just before I think Sophie is going to snap, Blair spreads Sophie's pussy wide apart, and from a different hole right about in the center of her pussy there's a wet spritz and then a gush of sticky fluids drizzle out—not quite like my own ejaculation, but given her quivering nethers, I'm sure that she's just had an orgasm.

The shiny glistenings drip through her trench and her still gaping, over-relaxed asshole sucks them in.

Blair removes the pillow. Sophie's pert little breasts are arched across Blairs lap, her head is slung back, and after at least a minute, she collects herself.

Sophie pushes herself upright, sweating fiercely. She looks at her drenched pussy, closes her legs for modesty and tucks her hands into her thighs in seeming shame. My friend looks at me. An uncharacteristically shy smile spreads across her face, and in a feeble voice, she says, "That's everything I got. That's my body. There's nothing more to it than that."

I don't know what to say to that, but she's unable to make eye contact with me as she just sits there, wiggling her shoulders back and forth, bare asses on the hardwood floor, cheeks wallowing in her own juice.

After a few moments, Blair takes the initiative. She pokes her fingers deep into Sophie's thighs and pulls them out dripping wet. She licks her girlfriend's pussy juice off the tips, and says, "It's more than enough, Soph."

My sister nudges me.

"What?" I whisper.

She nods over to Sophie. "She's waiting for you to say something."

Oh!

"Sophie, that—" I swallow. "—I've never seen anything like that before. That—for you to show me yours...it was...I thought..." My friend looks so vulnerable; I really need to pick my compliment carefully here: "Thanks?"

Shit. My voice had an uptick. That was a question, not a exclamation of gratitude.

"Thanks?" Brooke's baffled.

Blair brushes through Sophie's curls. "It's okay. I thought it was so hot. Don't worry about—"

Suddenly, Sophie perks up, interrupting her girlfriend. "That was your first? Dude. You mean you've never seen a spread before?" An impish smile spreads across her cheeks. "Like, my throbbing little asshole and creamy shuddering pussy was the first?"

Good lord, that little school teacher revels in being crass.

Uh. Honestly is the best policy. "I saw one on the computer a few times."

I do not go on to explain how frustrating it is to masturbate while impotent. Like, I can cum and have an orgasm and all that, but even as good as that feels, it just reminds me of all my inadequacies.

She scoots across the floor, and kneels before us, peering right down in my face uncomfortably close. Sister is still cradling me like a baby. This feels a little humiliating.

I think she picks up on that. Sophie gives me a little kiss on the cheek, then whispers in my ear. "Mason, like, don't take this badly, and you don't have to, but you know, since I showed you mine, I kinda wanna see yours."

"I—" I don't know what to say. I look up at Sis, who clearly overheard. She rolls her eyes and bops me on the butt.

"You good, now?" Brooke asks.

I suppose I am. I nod.

"Good." She groans and pushes me up as best she can. "Get up. You're stupid heavy." But she pats the spot next to her. "But sit here...please."

I roll off her and lounge into the cushion she'd prepared for me earlier, easing back into the mattress of her bed. I feel a peck on my cheek. Thinking Sophie, I look over, and my sister's smiling face, right next to mine. I don't...hate being with her.

The moment I'm free of my sister, Sophie's naked little body plops into my lap. Her wet bottom moistens my pajamas. "Stick out your leg." She tells me. I do, and immediately, I feel her soft ass cheeks wrap around either side of my right thigh. Her bum wiggles in until it bottoms out, and like that, she's on her knees with both her bare sex holes rubbing raw on my thighs, only separated by the thin pink cotton of my onesie, but that little bit sure don't stop her bleeding juices. If I concentrate, I can feel her muscles clench and throb. Like that, Sophie says to me, "So, can I see yours?" She pokes at my dick.

I glance around to both Sis and Blair, who are clearly feigning disinterest while also looking on expectantly. I waver. "I don't know..."

Sophie realizes my reluctance. She snaps her fingers. "Hand me that," she says to Blair, who tosses her a spare throw blanket.

Sophie drapes it over our heads, covering just the two of us, cutting us off from the outside world. Here in our little cocoon, she asks me again, "So?"

It feels safe in here with her. Warm. Her musky sex and cum is all I can smell. "Sophie...it...it's disappointing. It's not like yours."

"What, like—" She pinches her fingers together. "—small?"

I shake my head. No, mine's definitely not small, even in comparison to my already over-large body.

"May I?" Her fingers began to pull down the long zipper over my torso. I grab her hand, stopping her momentarily, but then nod my head.

She's slow. Sensual. Her small hands rub my pecs as they're exposed. She leans in, kisses my nipple, and even as a man, I swear that feels amazing. This is serious Sophie. She's not making jokes even though this feels very awkward. Soft, tender kisses down my abs as she unzips the front of my pajamas.

Her fingertips dwell on every ridge in my abs, as if each one is unique, and then, once the zipper is so low that my happy trail starts to peek out, the backside of her finger rubs along it, as if feeling the fur.

She gives me one more kiss on the chest, peeks up at me. Those are Bambi eyes. And that cute little deer drops my zipper down to the base.

My impotent dick is revealed, curled up like a snake in my britches. "Woah." Her eyes go wide. "Can I?" But before I even reply, she has it cradled between both of her palms and is pulling it from the open V of my Patrick Star onesie.

Her fingernails graze the backside. I throw my head back and bite my lips to stifle a moan. My eyes are wrapped tightly shut. White sparkles dance behind my eyelids. Every sensation, amplified a hundred fold. God, Molly is incredible.

"Mason, have you ever?" She rises and straddles over my thighs. Her small hands aim the head of my cock right at her bald trench.

I shake my head. "Sophie, the thing is, it...it doesn't work right."

It's true. Despite everything, my cock's still completely flaccid in her hands.

Even under the semi-dark of the blanket, I can see Sophie's eyes sparkle. "Dude, this, like just this is plenty."

Something glorious happens. The head of my cock parts her trench. The girth of it presses into her body, splays her wider than what she even was before. She slides it up and down, between all those layered fleshy bits that I don't understand. My little pee hole strikes a hard nub. She pushes my cock into it until my own hole spreads just enough that I can feel the nub trying to peek inside me.

The little school teacher humps her hips into it, trying to invade my urethra. It doesn't work, but damned if it doesn't feel good.

She's just playing with my body, my post intimate of places, against her own like we're both just frolicking in a playground of debased flesh. It doesn't feel wrong. It...it really doesn't.

I close my eyes and moan. Her lips press against mine. She's the first to move. I swallow her tongue; she swallows mine, and soon we're making out heatedly as she rubs my cock into everything she has down there; once, I even feel my shaft slide between her butt cheeks, and its soft head begins to prod at her very relaxed asshole.

I feel my friend's thumb roll my precum around the head of my cock, I guess for extra lubrication. Her body hikes up. She slides it forward and prods it between her pussy lips.

Sophie breaks from our kiss. Hot and wet, she asks me, "Mason, can I?"

I shake my head. No, she cannot. And her shoulders seemingly deflate.

I go on to explain. "It doesn't work. You can't get it in." I'd seen pornos. Sex takes a rock hard cock.

She lights back up. "So...it's not that you won't let me do it; it's that you don't think I can get it in?"

"You'll be disappointed if you try."

She slaps me on the chest. "Oh my God. You are sooo deluded! Dude, if that thing was hard, it'd—it'd split me in two for real. Like, this is a blessing in disguise."

I feel her muscles relax. The head pokes in.

"You're a virgin, right?" She asks.

I nod.

"So...can I have that?"

It feels weird for her to just straight up ask me for it. Virginity isn't something that I'd ever placed any importance on, but the way she said that, maybe she does? It's important to her, and here, she wants mine.

"If..." I reposition myself. "If you can take it."

"I can." Zero hesitation.

She begins to feed my long rope inside of her. It squishes against her entrance, like shoving play dough into a wall, but then, her muscles do something insane. Her insides begin to coil and roll. The ribs clamp down, and like a peristaltic tube, feed my cock into her vagina. Her pussy is literally slurping up my cock.

Impossible sensations ache my balls. She puts her hands on my shoulders, licks my ear, begins to pant in time with her muscley—What were they called? Oh, yeah.—kegels.

"That feels...sloppy," she says. "It's a completely different sensation. Like, I've had a hard dick in me—at least, when Thomas wants to play around with something other than his boyfriend's butthole, but dude...Mason...like, this, what we're doing now, this is something I can only do with you." She giggles. "And it's all because of that monster wang."

Before I even realize, her pussy has it slurped clear up to the hilt. It clenches down, and my flesh begins to squeeze out of her hole. She clenches the other way, and my dick slurps back inside her. Back and forth, incredible clenchings. Her hips are locked completely still against me. No pornographic humping at all. But still, she's somehow pumping my cock into and out of her vaginal canal with her precise muscle contractions. As a bit of spice, and God above, I don't even need to be experienced at sex to understand how incredible her control is, she rolls the wet nubs and ridges in a choppy wave—and I don't even know how else to explain the experience—Sophie's straight up milking my soft cock and fucking herself with it. She is an incredible woman.