Page 36 of Beneath the Dirt

Unable to shut my hand fully, another hand slithers its way into mine. Fingers weaving their way into the vacant crevices between each of my fingers. Closing the gap with a hold that is anything but delicate. It’s possessive. Overpowering.

Even in my out of it state, there’s no mistaking the incessant, yet dull, beep of machinery grating at my ear drums every few seconds.

We’re at the hospital.

What I’m laying on is a hospital bed.

That heaviness weighing down my limbs isn’t solely from the web of wires hooked up to said beeping machines. It’s my body’s way of coming down from the high that the drugs—and Araceli—gave me at Heathen’s Cross.

Dread finds me, attaching to my every vertebrae. I’m thankful to be alive, but the shit storm that will await me—meaning my dad—is going to put to the test how worth it this was.

Another hushed whisper sounds, from what feels to be Araceli’s lips hovering over mine. Her breath sends coils of warm air to my skin. My mouth still feels like I’ve been chewing on cotton balls, just like it did before I remember the paramedics wheeling us away.

I wonder if hers feels that way, too.

My lips go to part, but something is already lodged between them, obstructing my ability to move them further.

“I’m almost there,” she coos, stealing my hands and tossing them, wires and all, over my head, in a death grip.

How the hell does she have the energy to be out of bed?

To be… on top of me?

Warmth meets my groin.

Tight, wet,warmth.

Fuck.

I try to open my eyes, but still they don’t budge. I’m too tired. Not that I need to have them open to confirm what I feel.

Araceli.

My stepsister.

Riding my cock with her sloppy wet pussy… in a fucking hospital bed.

Doing what no one has ever done to me before.

Well, at least with their pussy. I’ve only ever had oral sex. Not this kind of sex. This feels better than any mouth slobbering on my cock ever could, because it’s her, taking what she wants—from me.

Christ, she feels so fucking good.

Even in this shitty state, my body knows how much I want her—my painfully hard cock is a dead giveaway.

“I’m coming for—”

Hinges squeal, and the air grows silent. Eerily so, until another familiar voice—myfather’s—pokes at the euphoric bubble Araceli placed us in. Like a needle to a balloon, bursting it.

“Get off of him, you fucking bitch!” he screams.

Though she doesn’t get off me and from the way her already tight cunt grows tighter…

Oh, she’s about to get off Dad… on me.

“I’m so close,” she lets out as her breathing becomes ragged.

“Oh, no, you’re not!” Dad’s footsteps stomp across the room.

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