My first entry into any competition. This one meanders a bit, but it was fun to chew out. Some of you will hate the ending. Apologies in advance.
*
I slid off Jeff's cock, feeling his hot semen rush down my inner thigh, as it became freed from our locked position. I had climaxed so hard on Jeff's thick shaft when he shot his load in me, that I'd fallen forward on top of him, nearly passing out. As I began to gather my bearings, and my clothes, I looked over to my best friend.
Jeff and I grew up together, literally. We weren't siblings, but he'd been unofficially adopted into the family when he was four. I was a year older and the only natural child of Belinda and Thomas Rogers. Jeff may as well have been their son. Jeff's biological father was absent since birth, and his mother was a truck driver who wanted little to do with him. My parents, by virtue of location, timing and goodwill, provided Jeff with a stable and loving home. It had been over 15 years since Jeff saw his real mother, and I knew that weighed heavily on him.
It was during our third year of college that Jeff and I began our physical relationship. We roomed together when we moved to the city to attend Southeastern Arizona. Rather than sharing dorms with strangers, we chose to live together while working and attending school.
I'd landed a job at a local restaurant and Jeff found work at a semi-professional theatre as a stagehand. His interest was performing arts and one day, he hoped to be on the stage, rather than working behind the scenes. I was aiming toward a degree in Economics, though my passion was in politics. I care deeply for our environment and the world we all share, and I had high hopes of one day being an elected official. Whether that was to be mayor, or maybe a congresswoman or senator, I didn't know, but I was insistent to leave the world a better place than I found it.
Jeff took excellent care of his body and he helped me get back in shape recently. After high school and several years of eating crap while prioritizing work and studies over health, I gained over 30 pounds. My big tits had only gotten bigger, but so had my ass, thighs and stomach. Once we started rooming together, I joined Jeff in his daily exercise routine and started eating a bit better. With Jeff's help, within four months I had dropped most of the weight. I was finally getting more confident with my body.
"You're looking great, Megan," said Jeff to me one night after a run. "Are the guys in your classes hitting on you yet?"
That had happened quite a bit frequently, but I had ignored it. Though I was feeling more confident, I wasn't quite there yet.
"Oh, you know," I said.
"I'll bet," laughed Jeff. "Maybe you ought to start wearing tighter-fitting clothing to get some attention. Strut it up, girl."
I practically stared Jeff down as he spoke. He knows I am not a flirt.
"Oh, come on. I'm just saying you should be dating, sis." Jeff always called me "sis," even though we weren't natural siblings, and I never called him my brother in any way. He continued, "We're only young once and you have a terrific figure. You should flaunt it. Get out there."
The truth was, although I was slimmer, I still wasn't very happy with my figure. My breasts were large, yet still held a healthy bounce and all, but they were more cone shaped than what would be considered conventionally attractive. Though my stomach was almost flat, my hips were a tad wide. Still, I thought my top-heavy proportions made me look awkward.
When Jeff and I worked out, I sometimes noticed him get uncomfortably large in the crotch region when helping me perform some exercises. In my mind, we were considered too close as family members to pursue a real relationship, but Jeff was turned on by me and I was flattered by it. In fact, it turned me on very much. One afternoon, after a grueling workout and a glass of wine, we caved to our physical needs.
Jeff was the only one I ever felt comfortable being naked around, which gets me to my next point. I am uncomfortable with my body, not just because it isn't shaped perfectly the way I'd like it to be, but also because I tend to get easily aroused when people look at me lustfully in any way. Even in minor ways.
I understand human behavior. Chemical and biological reactions are normal for people. This leads to flirtatious acts and more, but other people don't have the same challenge as me. Even the slightest gaze from a man at my tits or my ass (or hell, just my body as a whole) makes me tingle all over. If I see someone looking down my blouse, I get wet instantly. Exceptionally, sloppy wet. I get almost insatiably horny, and the harder I try not to think about it, or the more I try fighting it, the hornier I get.
This sounds stupid. Like something a few sessions of therapy could fix. Believe me, I have tried. If I go out on an actual date, of course I'll get eyed lustfully. I'll also be distracted all night, craving sex, wanting to be used in any way. This behavior could be catastrophic to a public servant, as I aspired to be. I had no intention of having any sexual quirks destroy my career like an Anthony Weiner type.
This problem of mine is one more reason why the arrangement I had with Jeff worked so well for me. I hoped it would last, even if it did need to stay secret. Also, as a result of this "condition," I dress very conservatively as a rule. The heavy sweater and slacks I was putting on now were proof of that.
"Jeff," I said. "Why don't you let me worry about finishing school and all these other projects I'm in? I don't want a relationship right now."
Jeff sighed, leaning up against the headpost. "Alright, sis. I just thought maybe you should start dating for real, rather than us continuing on like this."
"Jeff," I said. "I like this arrangement, but if you don't..."
"No, Megan, I'm fine with it. I just think sometimes you feel like the whole thing is a bit creepy or weird. Sometimes you're into it; sometimes I think you hesitate."
Maybe I did have some objections, but I'd never said anything out loud. "Look, I don't have time to go over this right now. I need to go clean up a bit and then head to a meeting tonight. We have a big event this weekend."
"Oh yeah, you and your hippies."
I scoffed and marched out the room. I was running late.
In my first year of college, I'd joined a non-profit group called Progressives for Humanity. It wasn't long before my dedication and enthusiasm raised me to the position of Treasurer for the group, and I intended to be its president one day, just one more step on my career path. The mission for Progressives for Humanity was to educate the public on our agendas in a more detailed way than the usual talking points. High on its list of priorities was climate change.
For a political class project, I had crafted a piece arguing that a progressive's idea of a perfect solution to climate change would also solve many issues that conservatives care deeply about. Part of that solution was to consider creating a national initiative, as bold as going to the moon, but one that would create four million non-government jobs. It would shift our energy needs to over 95% renewables within ten years, and it would literally pave a way to "starving the beast" in regards to funding terrorism. 9/11 was financed by Saudi oil money, after all. There is no better way to combat terrorism than to strangle its ability to function. The oil and coal companies could get on board with this initiative and invest more in renewables themselves, or they could watch other companies eat them alive all in the name of capitalism. Very much like the automobile did to the passenger train.
Progressives for Humanity took my work and made a visual guide of it. If one spent so much as ten seconds looking at it, they could get the gist of the message. Conservatives may not agree with our ideas, but we hoped to at least express them in a civil and polite way.
Earth Day was coming up in two days and the city was hosting a big event at Tall Tree Park. Our entire staff rented a tent space and we were going to be passing out these brochures to everyone willing to take them. We knew many of the people that we would be handing our material to would already agree with its message, but we knew they could use it to take back to their families and places of work to share with others.
Tonight's meeting was out of the ordinary as it was simply meant to prepare for the upcoming event, rather than covering other agenda items. We were to ensure we had all the right supplies, with tents and tables, printed materials, bottled water and anything else that was on the list.
When I arrived, there appeared to be a meeting going on. Sheila King had a dozen or more people around her, getting all riled up over something. Sheila was the interim president of the group. The previous one had to retire recently due to health issues. Sheila was good hearted, but came off a bit radical at times. As I approached, she began waving at me to come forward.
