37 - Parasitic

Asenath rose; her steps were silent as she stepped to retrieve a candle, and carried it back to her spot. She smoothed the skirt of her white dress with one hand, as she held the candle in the other.

"Privacy is something we prize. To have a certain space to ourselves. Yet have you ever considered what it would be like to never be alone? To be **** to share every living moment with someone else, dealing with their needs, their desires? I know of one such story. I call it...

PARASITIC

Her brother woke up before her. She could feel the stiffness of his erection against her stomach. With practiced ease, Molly took hope of her brother's prick and began to stroke. Long, smooth strokes, her fingers a circle as she brushed the flared, rubbery glans. Precum leaked in wet drops over her hand, and Molly sighed, knowing she should buy more lotion. It wouldn't do Patrick any good if he started to chafe down there.

The only sign he gave before he unloaded his balls was a sudden tightening, she could feel it, her own pussy suddenly wet and hot, a tension in the pit of her pelvic floor—then hot sticky ropes erupted onto her stomach, a few spots even hitting the underside of her breasts.

Molly panted in the aftermath, aroused in spite of herself. Waiting for Patrick's cock to go down. When, finally, it grew soft enough she could cradle it in her hand, Molly **** herself out of bed. She padded into the bathroom, glad that she was finally in an off-campus apartment instead of the college dorms. It meant fewer questions.

Like when her roommate walked in to see her washing her brother's cock.

"Patrick's morning wood, huh?" Kiko said.

"Yeah, stupid brother," Molly said. "But I can't just go out like that."

Molly felt a little embarrassed to be caught like that. Kiko, stupid, sexy little Kiko, had the kind of body that any woman would admire. Long, clean limbs, a deep tan with no lines, long dark hair and those eyes that Molly could get lost in, even those small breasts with the huge, suckable nipples. By comparison, Molly felt plain and ugly with her kinky red hair, the freckles across cheeks and breasts, the hips that were too wide and the breasts too shaggy.

And, of course, Patrick.

The stunted legs of Molly's parasitic twin stuck out just above her own thighs, and kicked sometimes in his sleep. His skull was fused with her rib cage, thankfully only visible as a kind of lump in her upper abdomen. Of course, Patrick's most obvious feature jutted out just above Molly's own slit: a perfectly formed cock. Absolutely normal if it was attached to a 20-year-old linebacker. Disturbingly out of place on the body of his lesbian twin sister.

"Have you ever thought about, you know," Kiko gestured. "Cutting it off?"

Molly peeled back her brother's foreskin to wash the glans. While she couldn't feel what he did with his dick, she had to keep it clean. Their internal plumbing was, apparently, complicated. Sometimes when she got her period, there was blood in Patrick's cum.

"It's...I don't know how to put this," Molly said. "It's all he has. There's still a brain, or at least a brain stem, in there. But pretty much the only thing we know he can feel is his cock. Wouldn't it be cruel to take that from him?"

"That's so weird," Kiko said, her eyes fixed on her roommate as she ran the washcloth over Patrick's balls. They hung over and hid Molly's own virgin slit. "Imagine being like that. Living just to cum. Like those deep sea fish who bond with their sisters and their bodies just...get absorbed."

"Yeah, well," Molly said as she stared at the living cock block that had fucked over her love life. "I'm glad one of us is getting something out of it."

"Where's Dr. Valeyan?" Molly asked, as she lay on the table at the clinic.

"Maternity leave," the doctor said. She was mixed-race, with aqua scrubs that contrasted strongly with her dark skin and hazel eyes. "Surprised us all. I'm Dr. Ivel, I'm taking over her workload, but this week we're just going to take some measurements, do some imaging. How has Patrick been?"

"Horny," Molly admitted, as the doctor applied the ultrasound gel to Molly's abdomen. Throughout her life, Molly had gotten used to being poked and prodded. She didn't get used to the way that Patrick responded to it. She blushed as the cock began to stiffen and rise, even at this little bit of human touch.

I can't take you anywhere, Molly thought to her parasitic twin.

"So I see," Dr. Ivel said. She brought the ultrasound sensor to Molly's abdomen. "Are you still helping with emissions in the morning?"

"Yes," Molly said, as she turned to the screen. Anything not to look at the way her brother's cock pointed at the ceiling.

"Maybe you should consider increasing the frequency. More frequent ejaculations might help. I know I jerk off my boyfriend at night, to keep him from bothering me for sex first thing in the morning," the doctor said, and then her forehead crinkled in concentration as she studied the screen.

He's my brother, not my boyfriend, Molly wanted to say.

"How have you been feeling, otherwise?" Dr. Ivel said, her lips suddenly drawn together in a tense line.

"A little tired. Head-achey. Upset stomach," she said. "God, I hope I don't have mono again. I moved out of the dorm to get away from that sort of thing."

"Probably just a touch of flu," the doctor said. She moved the sensor up to Molly's rib cage. There, beneath the skin, she saw the bones of Patrick's face. The eyes that would never see light. The jaw and teeth that had fused together into a single mass. The cleft palate. Whatever nutrition he had came from Molly. She had been eating for two all of her life. "Neurological symptoms?"

As if on cue, Molly's left hand twitched, grabbed at the doctor's thigh. With an effort, Molly **** her hand to relax.

"Still fighting for the hand. Sometimes when I'm tired, or not paying attention, it does things. Been happening more, lately," Molly admitted.

"Hmm. We can't completely rule out a neural connection, but I'm not sure if Patrick is responsible for it," Dr. Ivel said.

Molly wasn't aware that her blush could spread to her ears.

"What are you implying?" she said.

"Just that you're a young woman with a frustrating sex life, **** into a situation of caring for your parasitic twin. You might be—projecting—a loss of impulse control onto Patrick. I'd like to set you up with an appointment with a psychiatrist. Just for an initial baseline. See if therapy might alleviate the symptoms. Because the only other option is..."

"Surgery," Molly said with a sigh, and closed her eyes. "Yeah, sure. Get me a referral, I'll make an appointment."

The cover-alls were a necessity. It was that or a high-waisted dress, something that would give her room for the entire other human being embedded in Molly's body. But the cover-alls allowed room for a bit of padding, and she could often pass as simply overweight and pot-bellied, not...well, not a freak.

Some people mistook her as pregnant. Molly usually didn't bother to correct them, unless they were hitting on her. The one time things had gone far enough for Molly to take off her clothes, the date had halted hard. She still remembered the disgust and horror in the woman's eyes.

"I thought you were a woman!"

"I am!" Molly insisted. "It's my brother Patrick! I can't even feel it. We can work around it..."

Well, they hadn't.

Kiko had once suggested Molly camwhore herself. Real-life futanari. Legally, though, Molly wasn't sure how that worked. It was Patrick's dick, after all. How the hell was he supposed to consent? And Molly didn't even get anything out of stroking his prick for him.

When she arrived home, Kiko was there, dressed in nothing but a hockey jersey, eating ramen and watching a black-and-white Japanese gangster movie from the 1960s.

"So? How'd it go?" Kiko asked.

"The doc thinks I'm crazy. Been blaming Patrick about the hand thing when it's really my raging libido," Molly said, as she eased out of her cover-alls. The best feature about her roommate, aside from everything, was that the young woman insisted their apartment be a no-pants, no-bra zone. Somewhere where the two young women could live free of the tyranny of clothes.

"Bitch," Kiko said. "Have some ramen. Beer in the fridge."

Right then, beer and ramen sounded good.

One beer turned into four. Then Kiko had taken out the sake. By the time it came for bed, Kiko needed Molly's help to get to bed. The slim, tanned body collapsed face down, the hockey jersey pushed up around her ass. Molly stared at it, as if hypnotized. A hot, wet cunt. Right there. How many nights had she gone to sleep, dreaming of that pussy?

Which was the exact moment that Patrick decided to have an erection. Molly stared down at it, confused. Her hips jerked forward, and she took a hesitant step, nearly lost her balance, and caught herself. Then another lurching step. Her left arm shot out as she half-collapsed onto the bed. Patrick's cock throbbed. She could feel it throb in her pelvic floor. Mouth suddenly dry.

"Patrick, no," she whispered as her body moved forward.

Without her volition, her hand grabbed Kiko's hip. She couldn't feel it, but she could see in the dim light as her brother's cock pushed into Kiko's cunny. Her chest hurt, and Molly saw the outline of a skull-like face push against the skin, just below the sternum.

"No, no, Patrick, stop it, please," she begged, under her breath, so as not to wake Kiko up. Her head swam, dizzy, too drunk to override her brother as he pushed deeper and deeper into that tight slit. Patrick acting on animal instinct. Kiko moaned in her sleep. As Molly's hips slammed into that taut, toned little ass, she wondered how it felt.

Watching her brother fuck her best friend was like the most bizarre voyeuristic porn in existence. Molly huffed, her lungs heaving as she sucked in air. She could feel Patrick's single-minded determination, his need. This was all he had. His purpose in life.

Molly didn't cry out as her brother's sperm burst deep into the unprotected cunt of her roommate. She collapsed on the bed with the young woman, Patrick's cock still spasming inside of Kiko.

Patrick guided her hand around to squeeze one of Kiko's small, perfect tits. Maybe next time, Patrick would make her suck them...

"Of course, there was the next morning, and all that came after," Asenath said. "But the strangest thing about Molly and Patrick is how inseparable they were. Who can say who was in charge, in the end? Well, I have my theory."

She blew out the candle, and the wisp of smoke rose up and split her smile in two.