Page 3 of Have Faith (Taboo Tales Book Club)

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When I was a teenager, I used to hate sharing a bathroom with Faith. You have to understand, I was fourteen years old when my dad married Faith’s mom, making Faith around nine years old. She would always hog and clutter the bathroom and I’d have to wait or use our parents’ bathroom, which could be annoying. It wasn’t until she was about fourteen, when I’d just come home from Basic Training before my first deployment, that I started noticing her.

The small bites of her breasts began to form, shaping into the 34D’s that she wore today (according to the Tiffany blue bra hanging over the bathroom doorknob). Her hair got longer, her face started losing its youthful baby fat, transforming her from quiet little sister to Kate Upton’s short, voluptuous doppelgänger. Fuck, did I hate coming home during those days. I anticipated the mail, hoping for news of my first tour just to get the fuck out of my own house. I knew I couldn’t touch Faith - I mean she was fourteen fucking years old for Christ’s Sake – I wasn’t a fucking pervert. Not only that, but I knew that it was morally wrong for me to have any kind of romantic feelings towards her. We may not have been blood relations, but we were close - like siblings. Besides that, Dad and Mom trusted her in my presence. I was her chauffeur when she was too young to drive, I was her babysitter - fuck it - I was her brother for all intents and purposes.

I tried to put my feelings for her behind me, fucking my way through women just to get her sweet face out of my mind. I tried everything, truly. From women who looked nothing like her to women who could have passed as her double, yet nothing could assuage the want I had for my little sister. It was a sick feeling, this taboo compulsion I had to plant my seed inside of her and claim Faith as my own. The poor girl had no idea what the sight of her did to me which was why I tried to distance myself from her over the past few years. I told myself that I could put it behind me; that I could live without ever having her intimately.

But I was wrong.

I know that now. I’d come to the realization right after my Dad died. I regretted so many things after I heard of his passing; not visiting him enough, not showing him that I loved him enough, all of these things that will stay with me until I die. Piling that on top of all the friends and comrades that I’d lost in the line of duty - who would never get the chance to fall in love or be happy - I knew that I couldn’t deprive myself any longer.

I was in the shower now, washing away the summer sweat that coated my body from hours of repairing gutters. Signs of Faith were all around me. From her coconut scented body wash to her herbal shampoo - I couldn’t escape her in this house or in this fucking shower. I couldn’t escape her from my fucking self.

Grabbing my now hard dick, I stroked it, imagining what it would feel like to have Faith’s hand there instead of my own. Hers would be soft where mine was rough and cracked. They would be smaller too. Would she even be able to fit her hands around my thickness? I groaned, unable to hold back the pleasure the thought gave me. She was so small and slight and all I wanted to do was ruin her.

Grabbing her coconut scented soap, I poured a generous amount vertically across my cock, the creamy sight of it bringing to mind what it would look like to have Faith’s milky cum on my dick.

If possible, I grew harder.

I scooted a small section of the shower curtain back so that I could rest my right foot up on the edge of the bathtub and then used the freedom to move my left hand down to massage my balls. The soft sack of cum throbbed heavily as I caressed it, all the while plunging my cock into my right hand in a frenzied fuck. The sight of my balled-up fist taking in my huge cock spurred me on even more as fucked, fucked, fucked. The slapping was loud, as was my panting, but I didn’t care. Mom never came upstairs save to clean or fuss with the spare room. It was only me and Faith up here and I wanted her to hear me.

I wanted her to hear me fuck and cum. If she did hear me, I hoped she knew it was her that made me this way. I mumbled her name incoherently as I beat myself into oblivion.

I squeezed my nuts harder, using the tips of my fingers to press and add pressure to the skin connecting my asshole to my sack. God, it felt so fucking good. My balls drew up, causing my whole dick to tighten. I could feel the knowing heat spreading through my member to throb at the head of my shaft; my seed desperately fighting to mark Faith’s shower as its own. It wanted to mark everything of Faith’s as its own.

Stepping fully back into the shower, I grabbed the closest thing that I could reach, which happened to be a pink colored bath sponge, and emptied myself into it. The netted texture felt exquisite against my swollen cock as I jacked my remaining jizz into it. As my penis went flaccid and I hung the sponge back on the shower hook, I thought of Faith getting in the shower next, rubbing my seed all over her body and between her legs - cleansing herself with my cum.

Fuck. I was hard again. But this time I knew jerking off in her shower wouldn’t be enough.

Chapter 4: Faith

I couldn’t believe what I just saw.

I couldn’t believe what I just heard.

I was in my room, finishing up a few final assignments for my English 100 class that I took online through the local community college. I’d planned to spend all day working on it, but that was before Carter came home and threw everything into a whirlwind. I figured maybe I’d get more done while he was outside working on the gutters, but of course, I was wrong. I spent the whole time following him from one window to the other as he hung and drained various gutters around the house, his shirtless chest shiny from the sweat of his hard work. I told Mom some ridiculous excuse about needing to dust the house now that Carter was back, “I don’t want him to think that we’re slobs.” I explained to her as I ran the feather duster across the shades and seals of the windows.

Watching his back and shoulders flex for hours was an enlightening experience. My stomach fluttered watching him bend over in his too-tight jeans, outlining the firm cheeks of his butt for my viewing pleasure. I admittedly had little to no experience with men - literally the only kiss I’d ever had was from snot nosed Henry Cowherd in the 7th Grade during a game of Spin the Bottle at my 12th birthday party. The kiss was over before it even began because Carter, eighteen at the time, saw the whole thing and made sure that Henry, and no other boy for that matter, would ever lay a hand on me. And now, here I am, eighteen years old myself and I’ve never done anything - felt anything. It was suffocating, especially after what happened in my bedroom earlier.

Anyway, like I said, I was in my room doing homework when a hearty groan broke my concentration. I’d heard Carter go into the bathroom not long ago to presumably clean up, and I was worried that maybe he’d hurt himself working on the gutters. Since Mom was downstairs, I knew that she hadn’t heard him, which left me to check on him myself. Pushing away from my desk, I made the short walk next door to the bathroom and listened. The shower was running yet it wasn’t enough to drown out the muffled grunts and pants coming through the door.

Dear God, he sounded like he was in a lot of pain.

I had to make sure that he was okay.

I threw propriety to the wind as I opened the door and walked in, mentally preparing for anything. Or at least that’s what I told myself. But as I took a step closer, and then another, I spied something that I’d never seen before in real life.

The tip of his glistening cock-head.

It was peeking out from behind my polka-dotted shower curtain, drawing my gaze to it like a beacon. I felt as if someone had pulled a rug out from beneath my feet as my knees wobbled, barely containing my weight. I grasped onto the doorknob for balance as I watched droplets of water flinging with what I assumed were the motions of his hand, working up and down the hidden length of his penis. He was grunting madly, the jerky motions of his dark-pink head becoming increasingly swollen before my very eyes.

I was transfixed in the middle of my bathroom, wanting so badly to pull back the curtain and get a good view of what he was doing, but I knew that I couldn’t. It was wrong. Not only was it a violation of privacy, but he was my stepbrother! Of all the people in the world that I shouldn’t see naked, he was prime candidate number one.

Just as I started to back out quietly and shut the door, the watery snick, snick, snick sounds sped up along with Carter’s harsh breathing.

“Ahhh, Faith...You like that, baby.”

He spoke it brokenly, but I heard it loud and clear. He was doing that… to me?

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