Wicked Desire
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T.R.E.SChapter 4 free porn video
The stifling hot days of summer followed. Carol married her returned missionary in the Mesa Temple. Jenny remained Jenny. Cal patched up his relationship with Cathy, and according to Josh, they finally did the deed. I turned eighteen, and Josh celebrated his sixteenth birthday, and we visited my apartment frequently. My brother became a phenomenal kisser, an even better lover, and I fell in love with him. My love for him wasn't gut wrenching or tremulous, but it was deep and abiding. But as I'd told Josh, I believed it was possible to love more than one person at the same time, so I anticipated I'd fall in love with another man or a woman or both during this incarnation. I think if Josh hadn't been my brother, if we could've been man and wife, created some children and a complete life together, that I'd have been satisfied loving only him. He adored me, and adoration is difficult to resist.
Toward the end of the summer, Josh proudly announced that he'd gained what he believed was absolute control over his empathic talents.
"I can be in a crowded room now, Sandy, and turn everyone off. For a test, I walked into a busy emergency room at a hospital. I felt no pain. No emotions, negative or positive, washed over me."
I hugged and congratulated him.
"I've also become a walking lie-detector. I studied polygraph equipment and testing methods, and then applied what I'd learned while connected empathically with a number of individuals, testing their heartbeat, blood pressure and respiration to questions I, or others, asked them. If I can establish a baseline for truthfulness, I think I'm as accurate as a polygraph machine."
"Couldn't you sense if someone was lying before?"
"Yes and no. I knew when someone was nervous about a question, but that didn't necessarily mean that the person's response was a lie. The key, I discovered, is establishing a baseline for truthfulness. Deviation from the baseline indicates a lie, not normal nervousness."
"Unfair!" I cried out. "First you dig into my mind and heart, and now I can't lie to you and get away with it. A girl needs some secrets, you cad!"
He knew I was kidding him, so instead of looking sheepish, he blew a raspberry on my belly. We were naked on my antique, canopied bed.
"Lower," I quipped.
"I just came in you."
"So? Don't tell me you haven't tasted your own come before. You'd have to be an uptight, squeamish, neat-freak not to be curious enough to taste your own semen, and you're open-minded, far from squeamish, and border on bein' a slob. Eat me, you cad."
He flashed his boyish grin and proceeded to clean his come out of my cunt, lapping it up like he was a thirsty dog at a bowl of water. Such a male! Girls lick pussies like a kitten with milk. Hmm, maybe I needed a change of pace. Besides, I hadn't tasted a pussy for a lot of years. Thinking back, I figured the last pussy I licked was about forty years before when I was Sir Edward. He wasn't big on pussy lickin'. I think he preferred cocks. Like me, I thought with a silent giggle.
"School's starting next week," I said after I recovered from my climax.
"Yeah, which will reduce our opportunities for private times like this one."
"True, which means you'll need to acquire a girlfriend."
"Argh! I wondered when that subject would raise its ugly head."
"Josh, Mom's been wondering why we spend so much time together."
"I know."
"We need to appear like normal teenagers, you know, date other teenagers, that sort of thing. Gary Kerr asked me if I'd go to the movies with him."
"When?"
"Friday night?"
"What did you say?"
"Yes."
"Will you fuck him?"
I laughed. "Not on the first date. Waddaya think of Pearl Daley?"
"For me?"
"Yes."
"She's sexy as all get out, but I think she's more interested in you."
"Is she a lesbian or bisexual?"
"Bi, I think."
"Let's both fuck her."
I didn't need to be an empath to see that my suggestion excited my brother.
"At the same time?" he asked as he rolled atop me and pushed his hard cock into my pussy.
"No, silly. Then she'd know about us. Look, I've been getting a yen for some lovin' with a girl. Take Pearl out, turn her everywhere but loose, and fuck her silly. When she starts hangin' around the house, I'll seduce her." I snickered and hunched my cunt up at his plunging cock. "Pearl and I will lick each other's pussy, and I'll time it so we climax together. You can be somewhere close enough so you can connect with both of us. Think of it! A double whammy! You can experience two female orgasms simultaneously. I bet you'll shoot ten feet into the air. Waddaya say?"
He laughed. "I say let's do it."
"Fuck!" I exclaimed when I struck my shin on the coffee table. I briskly rubbed the point of the pain with my hand. Before the day ended, I'd have a large black-and-blue bruise. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
"Sandra Johnson, such language!" Mom said. "If you were younger, I'd wash your mouth out with soap."
I grimaced, wishing I had Josh's ability to monitor the whereabouts of my family members, especially my nosy mother.
"Sorry," I muttered.
"If only that were true."
That evening after dinner, Dad called me into his home office. Mom was already there, sitting on the leather sofa in front of Dad's desk. I sat next to Mom.
"We didn't ask you to join us to criticize you, Sandy," Dad said, "but we've both noted that recently you seem to be drifting away from the teachings of the church. You avoid family prayer, if possible, and you've..."
"Sounds like criticism to me, Dad," I said and immediately wished I'd kept my mouth shut.
He pursed his lips and shook his head. "You're right. I was being critical, but your mother and I are worried about you, Sandy. We both know the only way to true happiness is to follow the path set down by our savior, Jesus Christ, as revealed to the Prophet, Joseph Smith."
When I didn't respond, he said, "Friday evening you have a date with a boy who doesn't belong to the church. We think that's unwise."
"Criminy, Dad, it's just a date. I'm not marryin' him."
"This is what I was talking about earlier, Stuart," Mom said to Dad. "Her defiant attitude."
"It's rude to talk about me as if I'm not present," I said to Mom.
Dad glared at me.
"I don't like your attitude," Mom said. "There! I included you in my comment. Are you happy now?"
I sighed loudly. "Are you forbidding me to date except with members of the church?" I asked Dad, ignoring my mother, like she'd ignored me.
"No, we're saying it's not wise."
"Why?"
"The Kerr boy doesn't have a very good reputation," Dad said.
"You can do better," Mom added.
"Who, for instance?"
"Aaron Kemp."
"He's fat."
"Slightly overweight perhaps, but..."
"Who else?"
"Joseph Campbell."
"Hmm, not bad. Should I ask him out? He hasn't asked me."
"No! I'll talk to his mother."
"If you do, you'll be making a fool of yourself, Mom. I'm not Joe Campbell's type. Now, Jenny..."
Mom threw her hands in the air. "See what I mean, Stuart."
I moved to my feet. "I'll cancel the date."
"Sit," Dad said. "We're not finished with this discussion."
"Yes, Dad, we are. Look, I don't drink, smoke, or take drugs. I admit to stretching the truth once in a while, but I'm not a thief, a gossip, a bigot, a vandal, or a shrew. I'm a straight-A student, so I take my education seriously. Overall, I'm a pretty good daughter, but I'm not good enough for you or Mom. You don't want a daughter. You want a saint. Well, I can't be one, and for what it's worth, you were wrong earlier. I'm not drifting away from the church. I'm running away as fast as I can."
On the verge of tears, I spun on the balls of my feet and rushed from the room. I couldn't remember being so angry with my parents.
It took me a while, but I found my purse and dug out my address book. When I found the number I wanted, I dialed my cell phone.
"Gary, this is Sandy."
"Hi, Sandy. I recognized your voice."
"Listen, I'm sorry, but I must cancel our date."
"Oh."
"It's not you, Gary. My parents are being unreasonable."
He chuckled. "I know about unreasonable parents."
"Thank you for being so understanding. If I clear up my problem with my parents, may I call you?"
"Sure."
"Thanks, gotta go."
"Sure. Bye, Sandy."
As I pressed the end button, a knock sounded at my door.
"Go away!"
"Are you all right?" Josh asked through the door.
"No!"
He opened the door and stepped into my room.
"What's the problem?"
"Mom and Dad."
"Oh."
"They don't want me to date a boy who's not a member of the church."
"Oh, oh, I'm scheduled to meet with them shortly. Pearl's a heathen like Gary. I suspect I'll have to listen to a similar sermon. Are you keeping your date with Gary?"
"No, I broke it, but they didn't absolutely forbid me to date him. Like a thwarted, spoiled child, I cut off my nose to spite my face and told them that I'd cancel the date. If I had it to do over again, I'd tell them to take a flyin' leap."
Josh laughed heartily. "Then that's what I'll do. Did they ask you to get on your knees and pray with them?"
"No, I left in a snit before they could make the suggestion." I went on to tell Josh everything that was said in the meeting.
"Whew! That had to go over like a pregnant pole-vaulter," he said, referring to my statement that I was running away from the church.
As angry as I was, I laughed. "Thanks, Josh."
"No, thank you. Forewarned is forearmed."
I was curled up with a trashy, historical romance novel when Josh knocked on my door after his meeting with our parents.
He grinned. "Did you just read a sexy part in that book?"
"Yeah. How'd your meeting go with the folks go?"
"True to form. Your name came up a few times."
"I'll bet."
"Especially when we knelt to pray for your soul."
"I'm happy I missed that. Are you breaking or keeping your date with Pearl?"
"The date's still on."
"Good for you. For two cents, I'd call Gary back and tell him our date was still on."
With a silly grin, Josh dug in his pockets. "Gotta quarter, but no pennies." When I didn't respond, he said, "You're starting to distance yourself from them, aren't you?"
"Yeah."
"They won't bend. It's their way or the highway."
"I know. I won't bend, either."
"I figured. I bent."
"I bent when I was your age, Josh."
We didn't speak for a few seconds.
"Good book?" Josh said.
"No. It's a historical romance, but the author made mistake after mistake regarding the era she wrote about. I could've done a better job."
"Do it then."
"Uh-uh. If I were to write a historical novel, it would be a thriller, not a romance."
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