Science Ch 18

The sudden clear-headedness that comes from getting off, and thus getting out from under the haunting, is different from the feelings that followed an orgasm before all this. This clarity leaves plenty of room in your mind as you pull out and step back. Room for you to feel terror as you see the thick cum rolling down Rey’s wet thighs and drooling from her pussy in strings. You swallow. Mistakes were made.

She straightens up, trembling all over, and turns, not steady on her feet. Palmprints stand out on the window where her hands were.

You can’t look away from her legs and the creampie. “Are you good?” you ask, mouth dry.

“Like, did I finish?” she asks huskily, her hands absently roaming her front. She shakes her head.

That’s not what you meant, but there’s no time to worry about that. She walks over, grabs your hand, and brings it between her legs. The window rattles when you push her sweaty body against it, and you have to cover her mouth as you start to tease her clit, then realize that isn’t what she wants. You fuck her gooey hole with two fingers until her walls squeeze so tight that it’s hard to pull them out.

Her legs give out; you try to catch her, but she slides to the floor. She sits, shaking and still leaking underneath the thoroughly smeared window.

You kneel, unsure what to do. She breathes heavily, and it takes several minutes for her body to settle down. You give her your towel, and she covers up, but doesn’t try to stand.

The look on her face isn’t unfriendly, but it’s weird.

“I’m gay,” she says finally.

You clear your throat. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I was out of line. I guess I thought I was being funny.”

“No, not that. I’m being serious.” She motions for you to shut up. “I am, Flynn. I’ve known since I was like twelve. There’s just no world where…” She gestures vaguely at your groin. “That’s what I want. I think it’s you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I mean… we aren’t all jumping on each other. Mostly. It’s you. Like it’s… strongest with you or something. I don’t think it’s us.”

You swallow, remembering the night that they stormed your bedroom. But your brain is not built for this. You frown. “You didn’t enjoy that at all?”

She rolls her eyes. “I enjoyed it a lot. That’s why I know something’s wrong. And we aren’t supposed to enjoy it, dipshit. You’re my brother.”

“I guess,” you say, sitting beside her, then wincing because of your injured back. “Fuck.”

She just nods tiredly. “Man, I just don’t feel like myself,” she says.