I stopped watching porn a year ago. All those flicks managed to do was make me horny and lonely, a combination that led to me sending 'U up?' texts to women I had no business being around (or inside of). Participating in No Fab November was the first and most painful step. By the end of December, I'd finally kicked the habit and hadn't looked back since.
Last night though, the flesh had been weak.
I'd had a date with this fine ass woman I'd matched with on a dating app. The chemistry was so explosive through the screen that I had scooped her up for a dinner date the same day. I knew something was wrong the minute she walked down her steps to my car.
She gave a dry, "Hey" and a pat-pat hug like I was a coworker she didn't fuck with. Conversing with her on the drive was like trying to pull teeth the way she gave one-word answers as she stared out the window at something more interesting. Her dress was skintight and short and I hadn't been sexually active in so many months that I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. She was just nervous, just shy, she was one of those people that were better conversationalists through text than in person.
She didn't warm up during dinner, still giving short answers, pushing her food around on the plate, constantly looking at her Apple watch. I stopped trying and we sat in silence.
When we pulled up to her house, she surprised me by putting her hand in my lap. Her words shocked me even more. "You can fuck me for fifty."
I wished her a good night. Her number was blocked by the time I pulled off.
I wasn't in the best state of mind after that. The date had me feeling discouraged and pessimistic about finding that special someone. I got on the Hub intent on finding a lovemaking video to teleport myself into.
The first video to pop up caught my attention. It definitely wasn't a homemade, lovemaking type of video. It was uploaded by the big production company, Butter'N'Bunz, and had the well-known Black Nigght fucking an amateur girl. She looked like the women I saw everyday: a bone-straight, bright red wig with the baby hairs swooped, thick lashes that made her eyes look heavy and drunk, no makeup on her naturally pretty face. She was on the thicker side, her ass the star of the show as ole dude poured damn near half a bottle of baby oil over it.
I fast-forwarded past the talking and undressing to the part where she was swallowing his dick. Had me instantly hard, imagining it was mine she was gagging on. As her eyes looked straight into the screen, her mouth full to capacity, it felt like she was looking directly at me. I pulled my dick out. It was already dripping precum.
I stroked in rhythm to her head bobbing up and down the length of him. Those sultry never looked away from mine, even as her throat contracted and her eyes reddened and watered. She was a trooper, never stopping or pausing, in full understanding of what the assignment was.
My orgasm was on the edge of my vision when the video transitioned into a new shot of her ass bent over, pink pussy wide open, waiting to receive. It was then that I saw the tattoo on her lower back. It was then that my hand froze, the fog of lust clearing from my mind like a bucket of ice had been poured over my head. Realization sliced clean through me.
I knew that tattoo. I'd seen it peak from under the hem of a shirt when its wearer would bend over.
Nah, I had to be bugging.
As her face came back into the camera I knew I was not bugging. I did know her!
This amateur girl moaning into the camera as her pussy was stretched out and pounded into was my stepsister, Tisha.
***
"You're so quiet, Malcolm. Is something wrong?"
I kept my eyes on the plate in front of me. "Nah, ma. I'm just tired. You know how I do those doubles."
I couldn't look across the table at my mom. Tisha was sitting beside her. If I looked at her, the knowledge that I knew would be all over my face.
I had found the name she went by in the industry. Bam Bam. That name took me to all the videos she featured and starred in, most of which centered around her being gang banged by a group of men. It was bad enough that I had found the content. It was even worse that I had been unable to stop myself from watching them.
"Y'all clean up this table," my step dad said, taking a gulp of his beer.
Me and Tisha complied, gathering the plates and cups taking them into the kitchen to be rinsed and loaded into the dishwasher.
The kitchen was silent except for the running faucet water as she rinsed the dishes then handed them to me to place in the dishwasher rack.
"Brenda's right. You're being weird as shit."
I rolled my eyes out of habit, so used to doing so whenever she opened her mouth. Nothing but negativity came out of it.
"How am I being weird?"
"You're not being your usual self-important, asshole self that runs his mouth all fucking night."
"At least you're being your usual pleasant self with nothing but nice things to say about others."
"It's about Danielle, ain't it? You must've seen her post pictures with her new man."
A cup slipped out my hand, my fast reflexes saving it from crashing to the linoleum. I looked at her now, my anger raw. She smiled, elated that she had hit a tender spot.
"You know what?" I sat the glass safely in its place on the rack. "I'm going to leave before I hurt some feelings in here."
I grabbed my car keys off the counter.
She bent over to put a bowl in the dishwasher, the hem of her shirt rising, revealing the green ink on her light skin. I sat down at the island, commanding my body not to do this, not now, not when I needed to get away from her. Body and mind were in a civil war as my dick hardened despite how much I despised her. Scenes of her bent over taking dick flashed in my mind.
I couldn't help watching her bent over, her spandex pants see through so that what was inside them was on full display. Not that I hadn't seen it all in her videos. But real life beat a screen any day.
She looked back suddenly like she'd felt my eyes burning holes in her pants. Her head cocked to the side in confusion, my eyes looking away. She had noticed. Undoubtedly the lust had been in my eyes.
"Look at me," she said.
I swallowed. "For what?" My voice was as casual as I'd intended it to be, giving nothing away.
"I wanna see something."
I kept my eyes where they were. She came storming over, her energy alerting me. She was a quick-tempered girl who had tried to hit me on many occasions. That's what I was expecting her to do, my hands coming up in defense, ready to restrain her. But her hands didn't go for my face as they had in the past. Her hand went south to the front of my pants, grasping the hard dick through the denim.
We were both frozen in different states of shock. I couldn't believe her hand was grabbing me there. She couldn't believe that watching her had caused this reaction in my pants.
Information passed between our eyes as we realized the unexpected flair of lust that was now present in the room. This lust had always been between us, secret, hidden, because we were related and should not be feeling it, our open animosity for each other a protective barrier that kept us from acting on it. It was exposed wires floating around us right now, in danger of hitting one another and starting a fire.
My hands reached out without consulting my mind, grabbing handfuls of her ample ass cheeks. I'd wanted to do that since we first met at seventeen. She responded by squeezing my dick that was now a pole of steel.
I couldn't stop myself from wrapping both hands around her neck, her glossy lips parting to breathe. My tongue was in her mouth the next instant, kissing her like I'd never kissed Danielle or any girl I'd ever dated or fucked. I'd never had such possessiveness come over me or such hunger.
"Are y'all done in there yet?"
Reality hit us like tinfoil crashing to the ground. We broke away from each other, putting as much distance between us as possible. She hurried out of the kitchen to answer her dad's call while I tried to calm myself down so I could leave the kitchen. But the tent in my pants was as ruthless as the memory of her tongue meeting mine.
***