Science Ch 17

[ PSA - I screwed up posting the last chapter and left the last few paragraphs off. That's why this one looks funny. Sorry. ]

You head down, mindful of the several steps that you have identified as being egregiously noisy. You risk a normal speaking voice: “Hello?”

First on the right, past the front door, is the kitchen. Across is the big room, which you understand was used as a lounge and the main social room when CCL threw parties. Past that is what they used as the TV room. Down from the kitchen is what was used as the dining room. Then there’s the weird little hall that leads to some closets, a bathroom, and that second set of basement stairs. You check the kitchen first, but it’s dark and deserted. Your eyes are adjusting.

You stop in the dining room doorway. It’s empty except for some rolls of plastic, a ladder, and the tools that mainly your mother has been using for scraping wallpaper.

A slim figure is silhouetted against the feeble light from the uncovered windows.

It’s Rey. Moonlight casts a faint corona across her skin, highlighting her body. She has no curves, but her body still boasts distinctive details: small breasts and long nipples; defined abs and noticeable muscles on thin limbs, the tiniest way her little panties bite into her skin. The panties are all she has on. She is massively popular among gay women at UFG, and she is staunchly faithful to Delilah even though she could sleep with any hot young freshman she wants. She nails a strong, tall, badass lesbian vibe without even a hint of being butch. It’s an odd moment for an epiphany, but you get it tonight.

What you don’t get is what the fuck she’s doing here right now.

Science 17

“Rey?” you say uncertainly. Her eyes are glassy. You touch her shoulder, and she blinks.

“Huh?”

“Jesus.” You stand back as she looks around in puzzlement.

“The fuck’s going on here?” she mutters, patting herself down. She reflexively covers her bare chest. Arms crossed, she glares at you. “Did you roofie me?”

“Excuse me?”

“What is happening? What time is it?”

“It’s late. You were sleepwalking.”

She looks at you as though you’re trying to sell her Nootropics. “Sleepwalking?”

You don’t know what to say. “Yeah? Maybe?”

“That is not a real thing.”

You frown. “I’m pretty sure it is. I mean, I guess I never knew anybody who did it. Until now.”

“I don’t sleepwalk. And what the fuck happened to your neck? Why are you in a towel? God, you’re so weird that even the ghosts can’t make this horny.”

“Uh…” You touch the one scratch on your neck. “Actually, look at this.” You turn your back, and she gasps.

“Holy shit.”

“Right?”

“Who did this?” She lowers her voice, disbelieving. “It was Aunt Nadia, wasn’t it?”

Actually, you were thinking the same thing. Aunt Nadia is pretty wild. She’s kept it inside, even with the haunting, but… you’re pretty good at reading women. It’s in there. Looks like Rey can tell.

Rey makes an annoyed sound. You turn to find her stepping away, arms crossed more firmly, body language unmistakable.

Unbelievable.

“No way! How is me being all fucked up a turn-on for you?” you demand in a whisper.

Her eyes flash. “It’s not! It’s—it’s you know. How it got that way.”

You peer at her suspiciously. “A dude boning a chick in missionary? What kind of lesbian are you?”

She gasps. “You can’t say that!”

“I think it’s acutally a legit question right now.”

“Maybe it’s because the chick was obviously having a good time and that’s hot.”

“Too good a time.”

“So was it Nadia?” Her legs are together, and she looks defiant. You feel that sinking feeling in your core, and a rising in your blood vessels. A stirring between your legs, and a tingling all over. The only surprise is that it took this long to hit you. Are you getting desensitized?

“No, it…” You trail off. Her gaze is so intense. She kept trying to talk because there’s always this hope that if you pretend it isn’t happening, it won’t. But that never works. She doesn’t care who scratched up your back right now. The only thing she cares about is relief from whatever is pulsing through her brain and body. You know that because you feel exactly the same way.

Yet there’s still enough of the normal Rey left awake for her to look a little startled when you move toward her. “Flynn?” Then she falls silent as you firmly turn her around and bend her over. The moment of hesitance, the slightest resistance in her back, lasts about a quarter of a second. Then she’s pulling down her panties for you. You drop the towel, your cock at 75% and growing fast. You rub it around her flat little ass for a second, then grab her mound with your whole hand. She’s damp, and not ready, although that’s changing fast. She bites her knuckle as you rub her with your palm. She’s not used to you being this pushy; you aren’t used to it, either.

You are not in control. The idea of using a condom doesn’t even enter your mind as you push it in and fuck her, not fast or hard, but with urgency and authority that clearly works for her. Her pussy quivers and massages you, and the bend in her back deepens. Your hand slides up to her shoulder, then her neck, then her hair. You pull, and she whimpers, pussy clenching.

You’re listening to her pant and watching beads of sweat roll down between her elegant shoulder blades, her hair clutched tight in your hand, as you flood her with your load.