Page 39 of Three Meows

Chester waved his hands frantically.

“I didn’t mean anything by that, sir! Just that you are older than us! The oldest! Crap, that doesn’t sound better… Um, how about a shanty? A shanty should be a safe choice, right?!” Chester changed the topic desperately.

My father took a deep breath in and bellowed out a few verses of the Drunken Sailor. Every time he sang the descriptions of the bad things done to the poor sailor he kept meaningful eye contact with the trembling redhead.

Poor Chester.

I decided to cheer my lover up during the stay, even if he was still firmly the Least Liked on my father’s list. He was trying, and that was what counted. It was pretty tragic and a bit hilarious that Chester’s every attempt to endear himself to my father only made things worse.

The day was full of good food, fancy drinks, and too much cranberry juice. When father was called away to talk with one of his associates and Seth, Elijah, and Rowan were engrossed in a game of Mario Kart, I pulled Chester away.

“Hey, I’m waiting for my turn!” he protested, but I shushed him, putting a finger to his lips.

“Trust me, you want to come with me. Quietly.”

Intrigued, the redhead followed after me, leaving the gaming group oblivious to our disappearance.

With my hand in his, I led him upstairs.

To my room.

I closed the door behind us with care, making sure it wouldn’t make too much noise.

I gestured to the reminders of my past scattered around us. Once upon a time it was the main residence where mum and I stayed, but after her death we returned here only for Thanksgiving, so the room was left relatively unchanged.

It was a perfect portrait of the life of a teenage girl. Band posters on the walls, colorful accents everywhere, even a few plush toys left on the bed.

“Have you ever thought about dirtying my childhood bedroom with your cum?” I asked.

“Yes! Maybe? I mean, I’m definitely thinking about this now!” Chester babbled, his voice rising with excitement.

I shushed him with furrowed brows.

“If you want to get any, keep your voice down,” I reproached. “Unfortunately, the sound carries to the lower floor. If we are too loud the gaming bros or, gods forbid, my father will hear us.”

“My lips are sealed!” Chester promised and mimed zipping his lips and throwing the key away.

“No, it’s my lips that are going to be sealed… around your cock,” I promised and pushed Chester onto the bed, crawling after him as he scooted up to the headboard until he was sitting with his back to it.

My fingers unzipped his pants swiftly and Chester swore quietly.

You would think he was still a teenager with the way his cock went from zero to a hundred as soon as I pulled him out of his yellow duck-patterned boxers. I decided to take it as a compliment and hid my smile in the curve of his throbbing cock as I traced its shape with my open lips, then with my tongue. I wanted to take my time, but it was better to not risk anyone would go in search of us, so with a moan I dragged my mouth to the top of my prize, then sealed my lips over the cockhead. Chester gasped, then panted as I sank lower, gulping him down, stretching my lips with his girth. One of his hands darted to my hair, not trying to take control but holding onto me as I did my best to wreck him. When I established a toe-curling rhythm of up and down, I discovered that my lover was equally responsive, whether I was pulling off his cock or sliding it deeper into my hot mouth. The problem was this came with noises.

“Lisa…!” Chester moaned. I glared up at him before I pulled off his cock and swiftly rose on my knees, dislodging his hand from my hair.

“That’s not quiet!” I hissed in his ear and slapped a hand over his mouth.

His eyes were wide as I reached down to stroke his cock but kept my palm covering his mouth. Like this, Chester still made noise, or at least tried to. The broken moans were muffled and that had to do. I didn’t want to stop. With his fast breath against my hand, I could feel how he struggled to keep his sounds of pleasure down. The harsh panting mixed with a wet symphony of strokes, my saliva easing the way of my rhythmic caress.

I pressed with my hand, and Chester’s head thudded onto the headboard behind him. This position allowed me not only to silence him but to keep him in place.

Honestly, the thrill of it went to my head a little.

Chester’s eyes were glazed with pleasure, his fingers tangled in the sleeves of my sweater. He wasn’t trying to control the motions of my hand; no, the desperate grip was him just trying to hold on, to anchor himself among the sea of bliss.

His muffled cries dangerously increased in volume, and I knew I had to finish this fast.

“Good kitty,” I whispered in his ear and it was all it took.

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