Autumn Nights

(Author's note: Decided to try and experiment with another genre. My first completed attempt at Incest/Taboo (others stuck in the pipeline for now). Got stuck being nitpicky and it's been a while since I've uploaded. Constructive feedback is welcome. Many thanks to Xyster for editing and feedback)

Johnny's dream always started the same, with the creaking of floorboards and the moaning of hinges, accompanied by a phantom with luscious red hair, visible even in the dead shadows of the night. He'd smell her long before he'd feel her bulk pouncing atop his bed, the mattress bobbing with her additional weight, her tongue suddenly on his neck and her bodily warmth draping on top of him like a blanket of embers.

She smelled of ripe strawberries and the promise of spring. So heartachingly sweet that the only consolation of this pain was to sink his own teeth into the soft, plump flesh of her exposed nape and be rewarded by her gasps of surprise. She'd retaliate of course. Her nails stung as she pressed them hard into his muscles and almost to the point of drawing blood. Her groin moved against his in a slow and deliberate grind that stoked his passion like a lightning strike. He fought back against the pressure of her weight, a bliss like no other.

The shape of her body smothering against his was like a puzzle piece having found its ideal pair. Their tongues would meet, clash and dance atop one another as their saliva blended into one flavor. His hand would find one of her breasts and gave it a firm squeeze and a pinch of her nipples. Her moans were all the encouragement he needed to continue with what he was doing.

And then, it would be his turn. Literally turning the tables over with one swift movement. The bed shook and then he was on top of her peppering her with kisses and his tongue lashing on her lips.

On her neck.

On her collarbone.

And downwards to her breasts. Her breath caught in her throat with a gasp and he could've sworn her heartbeat quickened loudly.

The night was silent, save for the choir of crickets somewhere outside and the lonesome tune of a wandering night breeze, howling. In the confines of Johnny's room, it was a different sort of orchestra.

The creaking of the bed.

Stifled moans.

The sound of hot, hard flesh melding and churning into the pink, moist embrace of another. A mischievous thought would occur, and Johnny would thrust deeper and harder than before, and be rewarded by a moan too loud for their impromptu tryst.

In the faint moonlight he'd get that yearning look, a look in her eyes only possible in this dream state in the dead of night. The look only a woman could give a man, one that gave him all the peace in the world despite whatever crushing weight the universe had dealt him. The look of wanting in her eyes that only he could provide.

And he obliged with every fiber of his being. With each thrust. With each delve deep into her core. He pinned her wrists and racked her body with tremors that shook her entire being. She'd lose control of her own lips and her moans would devastate the silent halls of the house like some phantom wailing. He silenced her with his tongue and lips.

Whatever decency or façade of propriety that disappeared from her face, was replaced by wild abandon. Her eyes rolled halfway back to her head as he pumped and pumped deep into her. Her lips were wide open in a silent moan lest they wake the other occupants of this sleeping house.

He let loose with a fury and passion only a madman possessed. Gone was the love, and vengeful, wild lust took command in its place as they neared the last crescendo of their late-night dance. Gone were the wild beasts that had taken their place, and slow and surely reason trickled into their spent hearts once more.

They stuck in that warm embrace, sharing secrets from the deepest parts of their hearts as the night droned on and on until before Johnny knew it, sleep had taken him once more.

***

Johnny opened his eyes and were met by the golden radiance of the rising sun filling his room and knocking him away from that world of insane passion and veiled shadows. That moment in reality where you wonder what was real or not, what had happened or if you had dreamt it up. And perhaps it was just a dream for Johnny. It was an instance of such wildness and cruelty where his passions took command of his helm.

If not for the lingering fragrance of her sweat on his pillows and mattress like some she-beast staking its mark on her claim, accompanied by a single loose lock of red hair.

He put his head on his hands as if he could magically sink his fingers into his brain and take out the memory of what he had done. To preserve his sanity, he pushed it. Pushed it with all of his willpower into the forgotten dark corner of his mind where it would eventually break loose. Like an ordinary person, he proceeded to be ready for the day ahead, and tried not to think of the looming problems.

Breakfast was as it always had been. Johnny's mom was prepping for work, having fixed up the table with pancakes, toast and bacon—all the necessary breakfast essentials. His dad had finished his plate and was already settled with the day's newspaper before setting off himself.

And last, but absolutely not least, was his sister, Jane. She was dressed stylishly, as always, with a short matte grey skirt that was only halfway down her thighs, and midnight black stockings, accompanied with a similar dull colored, tight-fitting sweater, and a scarf in the shades of autumn orange and yellows. Her entire ensemble greatly complimented her pale complexion and fire-red hair. All a calculated effort to make her some ethereal faerie that has stepped foot on earth. A creature of autumn.

Johnny rounded that last step of the stairs and was greeted by each member of his family in their own individual way.

His father gave him a look-over that took Johnny's entire being into value and concluded with a scrunch of his lip and nose, all in a matter of a single solitary second. His mother offered him a warm, loving smile and a raise of her mug to harken him to get breakfast. Janey didn't so much as turn or move her head in his direction as he finally did settle on the seat across from hers. She had a smugness on her expression that seemed to make her indomitable from any such accusations of any wrongdoing, as if she hadn't done a slightest error in all her life.

But she has. And so did Johnny for that matter. Only difference is, she could get away with it.

"You look like crap, kid," Jonathan O'Scanlan spoke before folding the newspaper and fixing his son a hard stare. Nothing Johnny wasn't used to—his dad means well.

"Get some more sleep, no more of staying up late and sinking hours into that game of yours. Should have done it early on in the day, instead of in the god-damned unholy hours of the night."

"Yes sir!" And Johnny sincerely meant it. He tried not to glance at Janey.

"Hmmmg...," Old Jon grumbled under his breath and returned to his paper. Johnny didn't get that last part properly. This was as good a mood his dad was in when it came to him, and he'd be a complete fool to ruin it, what with Johnny's decision to drop from High School just a few months after he turned 18. He ate his breakfast heartily as if he had been worked to the bone.

Johnny thought he'd be Scot-free as he downed the last of his meal. He thought wrong.

Old Jon dropped his paper with a loud thud against the table and turned his eye on his only son once more, "Look at your sister..."

"Jonathan," Esme Scanlan warned her husband with only a gentle reminder.

"What?"

"We talked about this," was all Johnny's mother uttered. It helped as well that Johnny's reluctance at not completing his High School education wasn't out of laziness but frustration. Rising bills and groceries were a tantamount issue in the O' Scanlan household in recent years. Both parents carried out conversation and arguments in hushed tones and locked doors to spare their children of the dilemma of an ever-inflating economy. Johnny was steadfast in his decision, supported by a decent paycheck, to supplement his family's monthly expenses.

They received it with mixed emotions and opinions; that their financial situation had gotten to the point that their son had dropped off from High School to pursue a job, set against the gesture that Johnny put family first.

"At least drop your sister off at school before heading to that job of yours," his father said.

"Oh Daddy, if Johnny wants to be a drop-out bum then let him be, he'll just come crawling back once he learns his lesson. He's not that thick in the skull, our Johnny that is. Ain't that right Johnny?" Janey finally perked up and gave him a self-satisfied smirk. Johnny's mom only shook her head and didn't bother warning off charming, (not-so) little Janey.

Jane and Johnny were off to school not five minutes later. Jane sat up back while Johnny drove in silence. When there wasn't much traffic in the road, he looked up in the rearview mirror and fixed Jane a caustic stare.

"What? You deserve it, leaving me all alone at school," she harrumphed. Johnny only sighed and looked ahead.

They continued on in silence. She looked good, in the colours she chose. Johnny wanted to tell her she looked gorgeous but kept his mouth shut tight. Autumn was in full swing and the air chilly. Trees were halfway bare and littered the street with orange-golden leaves. He could lose himself in the passing scenery, away from the troubles of his mind.

"But what do I deserve?" Her breath was on his ear as she spoke. The warmth of her breath sent chills down his spine, and he had a bit of trouble not quivering, lest they swerve on the road. And despite himself, despite all the reasons that said no, that he should not pursue this—whatever this is—any further, his lips moved on their own, followed by a low, gravely rasp that promised of rough and long consequences, "Oh, you'll get what you deserve, mark my words, Janey."

He could feel her smiling despite not seeing it for himself, a naughty little smile that made his jeans tighter, and difficult for him to move just from imagination alone. "I'm looking forward to it."