Wiced Whispers

Wicked Whispers

By Serena Vayne

At evening, the Tennessee sun sank low, painting the farmhouse in shades of amber, the air still thick as molasses with heat and unspoken tension. Dinner had been a damn minefield--Jake and Tommy chattering about spark plugs and shitty gas stations, oblivious to the silent war raging between Lily and Tom. She'd poked at her mashed potatoes, eyes glued to the plate, every nerve on edge as Tom sat stiff across from her, those grizzled hands fumbling with his beer, the clink too loud against the rickety table. She couldn't look at him--not after catching him in the bathroom, that massive cock pumping her thong, cum dripping like a confession she couldn't unsee. Fuck... why's it stuck in my head? she thought, pussy tingling under her shorts, a heat she couldn't scrub away no matter how hard she tried.

Jake squinted at her over his beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, that easy grin fading a bit. "You okay, babe? You're quiet as hell tonight--ain't like you," he said, his voice casual, but his hazel eyes sharpened, catching the way her shoulders tensed, the flicker of something off in her smile.

Lily's head snapped up, forcing a grin that felt like plastic. "Just tired, hon... long day, ya know?" she replied, her voice cracking a hair, too high, and she cursed herself for it, shoving a bite of potatoes in to cover the tremble.

Jake's brow furrowed, flicking a glance at Tom--the old man's jaw tightened, beer bottle gripped like it'd crack, sweat beading on his forehead despite the ceiling fan spinning lazy overhead. Somethin's fuckin' weird... they're both jumpy as cats on a hot roof, Jake thought, a shadow creeping into his gut he couldn't name.

Tom cleared his throat, chair scraping loud as he pushed it back. "Think I'll turn in early... long day too," he rasped, voice rougher than sandpaper, bolting upstairs before Jake could say shit. The thud of his boots echoed on the creaky steps, leaving a silence that pressed down like the heat itself.

Jake watched him go, that shadow growing: Dad's actin' like he's hidin' somethin'... what's up with 'em? He turned back to Lily, leaning closer, voice low. "You sure you're good, darlin'? You've been off since this mornin'," he said.

She nodded quick, too quick, forcing another smile. "Yeah, babe... just need some rest," she answered, but her hands shook as she stacked the plates, that damn image flashing again--Tom's cock, thick and brutal, bigger than Jake's, a dirty secret that wouldn't let her breathe.

Upstairs, the old farmhouse groaned under the weight of the night, the air thick as molasses as Lily stood at the bedroom mirror, peeling off her tank top slow, thong hugging her pussy tight as she swapped it for a fresh pair--black lace, barely covering that sweet slit Jake loved to devour. She caught her reflection--tits spilling out, ass round and begging--and froze, mind reeling back to the bathroom: Tom's grizzled hand pumping that monster, her thong wrapped around it, cum leaking thick and hot. Fuck... why's it makin' me wet? she thought, pussy pulsing under the lace, shame burning her cheeks as she rubbed her thighs together, trying to kill the itch that wouldn't quit. Her fingers hovered over her slit, brushing the damp fabric, a soft moan slipping out before she yanked her hand away: No... this is fucked up...

Jake slipped in behind her, shirt already off, eyes raking over her in the mirror, cock stirring in his jeans at the sight. "Goddamn, babe... you're a fuckin' vision," he growled, stepping close, hands sliding up her hips, thumbs brushing the edge of her thong.

She turned fast, pressing against him, needing to drown that twisted heat in something safe, something hers. "Take me, Jake... I need you bad," she whispered, voice thick with a hunger she couldn't name, yanking his jeans down to free that thick cock, already hard and leaking for her.

He grinned, hands gripping her ass, lifting her onto the dresser with a thud, tugging her nightie up to bare those heavy tits. "You're burnin' up tonight, darlin'... what's got you so damn hot?" he rasped, sucking a hard nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking over it as she moaned, loud and reckless.

"Yes... fuck me... so good..." she cried, her voice spilling out as he worked her nipple, her body arching into him.

He shoved her thighs apart, ripping the thong aside, slamming into her dripping pussy with one deep thrust, groaning. "Jesus... you're soaked, babe..." he said, his voice rough with awe as she rode him hard, hips bucking, mind spinning--Tom's cock flashing behind her eyes, that massive beast dwarfing Jake's--and words slipped out raw and unfiltered.

"Fuck... so big... harder..." she gasped, her voice breaking, caught in the heat of it.

Jake's eyes flared, a twisted heat sparking as he pounded her deeper. "Big, huh? You want it rough tonight?" he teased, his voice rough, but that shadow flickered--Dad's been weird... what if he's touchin' her in his head?--and his cock throbbed harder, a small, sick thrill he couldn't shake.

He gripped her tighter, slamming in, dresser banging against the wall. "What if Dad grabbed you, babe? You'd like that shit?" he asked, his words a dark jab, testing her, the idea igniting something in him.

Lily's head snapped back, pussy clenching as she gasped. "No... what the fuck, Jake?" she shot back, her voice shaking, too sharp, but her body betrayed her, soaking his cock more, that image of Tom's monster driving her wild.

She clawed his shoulders, moaning. "Just... fuck me..." she begged, redirecting him, her voice desperate to bury the slip.

Jake grinned, too lost in the heat to dig. "Just fuckin' with ya, darlin'... but damn, you're wet as hell," he said, pounding faster, the wet slap of their fucking filling the room, her screams spilling out.

"Harder... oh fuck... I'm gonna..." she cried, her voice rising as her pussy spasmed, juices gushing as she came.

Jake roared as he unloaded deep inside, hot cum spilling out around him, both panting like they'd run a damn marathon. "Fuck, Lily... you're somethin' else," he panted, kissing her sloppy, that flicker still nagging at him, a faint hưng phấn he didn't dare name.

They collapsed onto the bed, tangled in sweat and sheets, Jake's arm slung over her as his breath slowed. "You sure you're okay, babe? You've been off all fuckin' day," he murmured, stroking her hair, eyes searching hers in the dim light.

Lily nestled into his chest, forcing a sleepy smile. "Yeah... just tired, hon," she said, but her mind wouldn't quit--Tom's cock, thick and brutal, pulsing in her thong, that dirty heat she couldn't bury: I didn't mean it... but fuck, it's screwin' with me...

Jake's hand stilled, a shadow crossing his thoughts: She's hidin' somethin'... what if Dad's gettin' too close? He didn't ask, didn't push, but his cock twitched faintly at the idea, a twisted thrill he shoved down deep. "Love you, darlin'," he muttered, kissing her forehead, both drifting off as the farmhouse creaked around them--a quiet witness to secrets creeping closer than they knew, a crack in their trust splitting wider with every whisper they couldn't voice.

The Tennessee dawn broke soft and golden, sunlight spilling through the warped blinds of Tom's old farmhouse, casting jagged stripes across Lily's face as she lay tangled in sweat-damp sheets. Jake's arm was slung heavy over her waist, his snores a low rumble against her neck, but her mind churned like a damn storm--that image of Tom's massive cock, thick and pulsing in her thong, wouldn't let go. It'd haunted her since yesterday, burning hotter than the July heat, her pussy tingling under the thin nightie every time she closed her eyes. Why'm I so fucked up over this? she thought, slipping out of bed quiet as a ghost, bare feet padding to the bathroom, the floorboards creaking softly underfoot.

She splashed cold water on her face, but the ache wouldn't wash away--that beast, bigger than Jake's, dripping cum like a promise she couldn't unmake, its sheer size etched into her soul like a brand.

Downstairs, the kitchen was a furnace by the time she fired up the coffee pot, the rich aroma mingling with the sizzle of eggs as she fried them up, trying to drown out the whisper in her head--that primal scent of Tom's desire, musky and raw, still clinging to her memory. She wore a thin white tank top and denim cutoffs, the fabric clinging to her curves, sweat beading on her neck, trickling slow and teasing down her cleavage, soaking the cotton 'til it was damn near see-through, her nipples hard and dark against it.

Jake stumbled in, shirtless and sleepy, scratching his broad chest, jeans slung low on his hips, the morning stubble rough on his jaw. "Mornin', babe... smellin' like fuckin' heaven," he drawled, wrapping an arm around her from behind, morning wood pressing firm against her ass through his boxers.

She forced a smile, leaning back into him, but her mind wasn't on his touch--it was on Tom, out there on the porch, his rough hands trembling as he'd pumped her thong, that guilt-ridden hunger in his eyes when she'd fled.

"You okay? You've been off since last night," Jake muttered, kissing her neck, voice laced with concern but that shadow of suspicion flickering in his hazel eyes, sharper than yesterday.

Lily nodded quick, too quick, voice soft. "Yeah, hon... just tired, is all," she said, but her pussy throbbed, wet and needy, a secret she couldn't scrub clean, her thighs pressing together under the counter as she flipped the eggs, trying to hide the flush creeping up her chest.

Jake's hands slid lower, gripping her hips, thumbs brushing the edge of her shorts, but she squirmed away, mumbling, "Let me finish breakfast, babe," her voice a little too high, betraying the tension she couldn't shake.

Tom sat out on the porch, nursing a black coffee, silver hair glinting under the sun, his weathered hands gripping the mug like it'd anchor him. He hadn't slept--not after yesterday, not after she'd caught him jerking off with her panties, those hazel eyes wide and shocked as she bolted, her silhouette burned into his brain. She saw me... fuck, I'm a dead man if Jake finds out, he thought, gut churning, but his cock twitched at the memory--her tight ass in those cutoffs, those big tits bouncing as she ran out, that scent of her pussy still clinging to the lace he'd washed clean in secret, hidden deep in his drawer like a goddamn sin.

She's too damn hot... I'd sell my soul to taste her, he admitted, shame burning his chest, but that hunger wouldn't quit, growing wilder with every stolen glance through the window, every curve of her body he couldn't unsee.

Tommy bounded in, lanky and full of teenage energy, snagging a piece of toast from the counter. "Yo, Jake--Bobby from down the road just called. Said he's hostin' a fishin' trip at Miller's Lake today, me and him used to fish there all the time as kids, back when we'd skip school and sneak outta town. You in?" he asked, Bobby was an old pal from their childhood summers, a lanky redhead with a beat-up boat and a love for cold beers by the water--a classic American pastime in these parts, perfect for a lazy Saturday.

Jake grinned, grabbing his boots, the memory sparking a laugh. "Hell yeah, man--been ages since I reeled one in with Bobby. Gimme five," he said, he kissed Lily's cheek, oblivious to the storm brewing in her, and headed out with Tommy, the screen door slamming shut, the growl of the pickup fading down the gravel road as they roared off to Miller's Lake, thirty minutes away, leaving Lily alone with Tom for the day.

The house fell silent, just Lily and Tom, the air crackling with a tension neither could name. She stayed in the kitchen, wiping down counters, still in that thin tank top and cutoffs, the fabric clinging tighter in the heat, sweat beading on her neck, trickling slow between her tits, soaking the cotton 'til it was damn near see-through, nipples poking hard and dark against it.

She swapped the tank for a white bikini top--tiny, barely holding those full mounds, nipples teasing through the wet fabric as she moved, the strings tied loose at her back, threatening to slip with each stretch. She kept the shorts on, frayed edges riding high to flash the bottom curve of her ass, thighs creamy and begging under the sun streaming through the windows. It's too fuckin' hot... might as well stay cool, she thought, but deep down, she knew--she wanted him to see, wanted to feel those eyes on her again, even if she couldn't admit it, not yet.

She moved deliberately, bending to dust the coffee table, ass swaying slow, tits bouncing free under the bikini, pussy outlined faintly through the shorts every time she stretched, a silent invitation she didn't dare name.

Tom lingered on the porch, sipping his coffee, but his eyes kept darting inside, catching glimpses of her--that tight ass swaying as she bent over, those big tits straining against the bikini, nipples hard and begging, pussy teasing through the denim with every shift. Fuckin' hell... she's doin' this on purpose, he thought, throat dry, cock swelling thick in his jeans, a beast he couldn't cage.

He stayed silent, leaning against the railing, pretending to fix a loose board, but his gaze followed her every move, heart pounding, shame and lust battling in his gut, a war he was losing fast. She's Jake's wife... my daughter-in-law... but Jesus, she's too damn sexy, he thought, jaw tight, cock straining against his zipper, a dull ache pulsing through him.

Lily felt it--that heavy stare, burning into her skin--and her pussy tingled, wet and needy, but she kept her cool, humming softly, pretending she didn't notice, letting the silence stretch, thick and electric, between them. He's watchin'... why's it makin' me hot? she thought, pussy clenching under the shorts, a flush creeping up her chest she couldn't hide, thighs pressing together as she wiped the counter, slower now, deliberate.

By noon, the heat was a goddamn tyrant, the farmhouse groaning under its weight, the thin walls creaking with every step, the ceiling fan spinning lazy and useless overhead. Jake's voice crackled through her phone, tinny and distant. "Babe, we're stayin' out 'til late--Bobby's got a cooler full of beer, and the fish are bitin' good. You good holdin' down the fort?" he asked.

Lily's heart skipped, a shiver running through her, pussy pulsing at the thought of more time alone with Tom. "Yeah, hon... take your time," she replied, she hung up, the silence pressing in, that tension thickening like molasses, the air heavy with unspoken heat.

Tom stepped inside, boots scuffing the floor, his silver hair damp with sweat, mouth opening like he'd say something, but the words died on his tongue, stuck in his throat like a damn lump. How do I even start... fuckin' sorry ain't enough, he thought, eyes locking on her--that bikini top straining against her tits, shorts hugging her ass, a sight too fuckin' perfect to ignore, too forbidden to touch.

Lily caught his stare, heart racing, stepping closer, voice soft but measured, keeping a distance she felt she had to maintain. "Mr. Tom... about yesterday..." she said, her words hung in the air, fragile as glass.

He flinched, face crumpling with shame, eyes dropping to the floor, hands trembling as he gripped the counter. "Lily... shit, I'm so damn sorry, Lily. I'm a sick bastard for what I did--usin' your... your panties like that. I ain't got no excuse, just... I'm ashamed as hell, feel like dirt, and I regret it with every bone in my body," he rasped, voice rough and raw, his head bowed, guilt and regret pouring out, cheeks flushed with humiliation.

But his gaze flicked up, catching her curves again, cock twitching despite the ache in his chest, a hunger he couldn't kill. She's too fuckin' gorgeous... I can't stop lookin', even now, he thought.

Lily's breath hitched, a strange pride swelling in her--not anger, not disgust, but something warmer, twisted, a flicker of understanding she didn't expect. He thinks I'm beautiful... fuckin' hot, even, and he's sorry... she thought, pussy pulsing under her shorts, a heat she couldn't deny growing softer, more empathetic.

She stepped closer, voice gentle, still keeping that careful distance, her tone calm and sincere. "It's okay, Mr. Tom... I get it. You've been alone so long, carryin' all that weight after Mrs. passed, raisin' Jake and Tommy by yourself. I'm not mad, really. I understand why you did it--it's human, and I don't hold it against you," she said, her words were slow, steady, filled with a quiet compassion, her eyes soft but searching his, bridging that gap just a little, trying to ease his pain.

Tom's jaw dropped, disbelief flashing in those deep-set eyes, voice cracking. "You... you ain't mad? Darlin', I--" he said, he stopped, throat tight, eyes wide, hands shaking as he gripped the counter harder, the weight of her forgiveness crashing over him, a mix of relief and terror swirling in his gut.

She's too fuckin' kind... too damn perfect, he thought, cock throbbing painfully in his jeans, a beast he couldn't control, but he kept his distance, not daring to move closer, not yet, the shame holding him back like chains.

Lily hesitated, her heart pounding, but she pushed forward, voice quieter now, a thrill spiking through her as she tested the waters, still careful. "I... I wanna help you, Mr. Tom. Ease that tension you're carryin'. But it's gotta stay between us--Jake can't know, ever," she said, her words came slow, deliberate, her hands trembling as she reached for the waistband of her shorts, fingers hesitating, hooking under the denim with a shaky breath.

She slid them down, slow and steady, revealing the black lace thong hugging her pussy tight, damp with sweat and her own arousal, the fabric clinging to her slit, outlining every curve as she stepped out, standing there in just the bikini top and thong, her body on display--not lewd, but striking, serious, beautiful in its vulnerability. Her full breasts strained against the bikini, nipples hard and dark through the wet fabric, her ass round and creamy, thighs begging under the golden light, a goddess-like presence, not a cheap thrill.

"Take it, Mr. Tom... for you," she whispered, holding out the thong, voice husky but firm, eyes locked on his, a mix of seduction and sincerity, a challenge and a comfort in one.

Tom's breath caught, hands shaking as he reached for it, eyes wide with disbelief and a rush of raw, overwhelming joy. "Lily... fuck, I can't believe..." he said, his fingers brushed hers, the contact sending a jolt through them both, his grip reverent as he took the thong, lifting it to his nose, inhaling deep--that sweet, musky hit of her pussy slammed into him, sweat and arousal soaking the lace, wetter than he'd ever imagined, a scent so intoxicating it made his knees weak.

Her cunt's drippin'... she's turned on, fuckin' hell, he thought, cock swelling hard and thick in his jeans, straining against the zipper as he groaned low, eyes locked on her, a mix of awe and hunger. "So fuckin' perfect... you're an angel, darlin'... I'm losin' my mind over you," he rasped, he stood there, trembling, the thong clutched in his fist, voice cracking as he asked, voice raw and pleading.

"Lily... can I... can I do it now? I've been holdin' it in all mornin', watchin' you, needin' you so bad it hurts--I can't take it no more," he pleaded.

Lily's heart raced, pussy clenching hard under the bikini bottoms, a moan slipping out before she could stop it. "Yeah... go ahead, Mr. Tom. But it's just this once, and nobody knows--not Jake, not anyone," she said, her voice was steady, but her thighs trembled, pussy dripping as she watched him, standing there, serious and beautiful, not cheap or vulgar, but a woman sharing a secret, a flame too bright to ignore.