Author's notes: All characters are adults (18 or older). This story asks the question: "Could someone write their own future?" Perhaps. However, many secrets may lay hidden in the shadows.
1: The night filled with the sound of sex
Lizzy opened her eyes, realizing it was getting late and would need to rise early in the morning for work. She was still sitting on the couch. Amber was asleep with her head on her lap. Behind her, Dean was at the computer.
Her mind was filled with the image of the branding marks just above Amber's pussy. Symbols made permanent. They are clues about this girl. No, shadows. The shadows of her real past life. Hidden shadows, cast long, like those from the late afternoon sun. Like the empty Italian squares of paintings by Giorgio de Chirico. Mysterious and foreboding, surreal.
"Who is this girl? How and why did she drop into our lives at this moment?" she thought.
She moved the girl's hair, gently.
"Now. When I feel so weak. How could you have known I needed this and someone like you?" she whispered.
She studied Amber's face.
"This hour .... the evening hour that strives, Homeward, and brings the sailor home from sea......"
Lizzy became contemplative -- paralyzed by a rush of thoughts. The patterns. If she thought more, she would turn melancholy.
"The throbbing hour. The violet hour."
She looked down at Amber's body. The t-shirt had ridden up revealing her pussy again. Lizzy looked over at Dean working at his makeshift desk, recently relocated in the corner of their living room. He was hidden behind his three monitors.
Lizzy turned back to look at Amber. The wisps of her auburn-colored pubic hair -- barely covering her pussy. The girl slept placidly. Unaware. Oblivious about her nakedness. Almost involuntarily, Lizzy ran her hand gently down the girl's body. Over her breasts. Down her smooth flat tummy. Amber didn't stir. She reached the girl's mons. Touching her pubic hairs -- letting them run between her fingers. Amber still didn't move. She wished it were her tongue.
From this angle, she could barely see the branding mark -- the Chinese characters she had seen previously.
She reached for her phone on the coffee table. Gently, and with two fingers, she pushed aside Amber's auburn-colored pubic hair to reveal the mark. Then, she quickly snapped a picture.
"Click." Inadvertently, her phone made a simulated shutter sound of an SLR camera.
Her eyes darted to Amber, hoping she hadn't stirred. She quickly lowered the phone's volume.
She looked at the photo, but it turned out blurry. She wet her fingers, and repeated the process, carefully matting the hairs aside, slowly so as to not awaken Amber. This time the hair stayed parted as she hastily took another photo. She checked the results and the branding mark was clearly visible in the photo.
"Gosh," she thought. "What could these symbols mean?"
"Amber... Amber... " she whispered. "Wake up honey."
The semi-naked young woman -- the recent visitor to their home -- stirred.
"Amber... Maybe you should go to bed?" Lizzy suggested softly, her voice barely above a whisper, as Amber lay curled up in her arms on the couch.
Despite having just met their new visitor only hours before, Lizzy felt a special affection for Amber. It was as if she were her niece. Or perhaps something more.
Lizzy observed Amber's features as she continued to sleep. She observed how her nose was dusted with freckles, translucent in the soft light, against her white skin beneath. She looked so peaceful. She hadn't looked at another woman like this ever - sexually, erotically, and with such desires.
"God, she is so pretty," Lizzy whispered. Her fingers ran gently and slowly through her auburn hair.
Amber shifted and sat up slowly, her movements languid. Her hair fell messily over her sleepy eyes, and she let out a gentle yawn.
"Okay, Auntie," she murmured.
"You must be so tired from your trip. You fell asleep immediately."
"Mmm."
"Come on. I'll help you up."
Lizzy rose from the couch first, offering her hand to help Amber up. As Amber stood, she wrapped her arm around Lizzy's waist, pulling her into a warm hug followed by a tender kiss on her cheek.
"Thanks for letting me stay here," her words tinged with sleepiness and a soft smile.
"You don't have to say thanks. This is your house now."
She smiled and gathered her things.
They walked towards Amber's new room. Dean, who had been working at his computer in the living room, joined them in the hallway. They stood for a moment outside her bedroom door, Dean's former office.
"Good night, Uncle Dean," Amber said sleepily, rising slightly on her tiptoes to encircle him in a hug and kiss him on his cheek. When she lifted her arms to hug her uncle, her t-shirt rode up revealing her nakedness beneath.
She closed the door behind her, crawled into her bed, and fell asleep immediately.
~~~~~~
The couple went to their bedroom. Rapidly, they were ripping each other's clothes off. This hadn't happened in a long time. In their normal routine, Dean would remain on the computer late, editing the scenes of his movie, while Lizzy would read in bed, eventually falling asleep with a novel in her hands.
Not tonight. Instead, they were naked and in a passionate embrace.
"Oh Dean," Lizzy said. "I want you inside me."
Dean's cock was already so hard. He rubbed it between her legs. She was already dripping. His cock moved between her slippery pussy lips. They kissed passionately as his cock rubbed against her entrance back and forth.
Neither would admit their arousal was due to Amber. It didn't seem right; succumbing to such an erotic taboo of incest.
"I love you," Lizzy whispered.
She wanted to hear him say that. He just kissed her more and rubbed her breasts. "Me too," he managed to say.
They fell onto the bed. They rolled over so that she was on top. He entered her easily.
"Jeez, what's up with you? You are so wet."
"And why are you so hard?" she responded, slightly defensively.
Dean pumped his cock into her faster and more energetically. Normally, he would cum quickly. She had become like a blow-up doll. But tonight, his thoughts may have been elsewhere. Just maybe, he was imagining that Lizzy was Amber. Perhaps, he was imagining her walking around the house without panties and exposing herself again. And, it was only the first night.
As Lizzy gyrated her hips to each thrust, he put his hands around her skinny body. He grabbed her tight ass cheeks, as he often did. Her small breasts dangled in his face as she bounced on his cock. However, he imagined they were Amber's nipples. Just the thought of it was the most erotic thing he ever experienced. He imagined he was fucking Amber.
"Oh, Dean. I love how you feel inside me."
"Mmm."
"Tell me you love me."
"Liz, you know I do."
"But, why don't you say it?" she whispered. It was barely audible as he pumped into her. "If only you would just say it," she thought. "Please. Just say it."
Her heart fell a bit. Somehow, his cock didn't feel at that moment as good as she wanted. It became just sex. Again. Just fucking her. She couldn't help it. Her thoughts wandered. Just like Dean, her mind flooded with images of their new visitor.
While she wasn't a lesbian or thought of other women, Amber was different. She wanted to touch her softness, and lick her pussy there on the couch while she slept. As Dean thrust into her, she imagined being in a sixty-nine position with Amber. Her mind was filled with the image of her on top, pushing her pelvis on Amber's mouth, while she licked Amber's soft pussy.
"I'm going to cum," he said. He quickened his pace.
She looked into his face. Into his eyes. He was her Dean. He was still so boyish and she was in love. "I'm being silly and too sensitive," she thought.
She then felt his thrusting cock jerk. Then she felt the warmness of his cum fill her. Her own orgasm sweeps over her.
"How can I be so silly?" she thought.
