In The Library Ch. 06

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I am in my home town, but where is Grace?
2.4k words
4.49
11.3k
8

Part 6 of the 23 part series

Updated 11/01/2022
Created 05/12/2014
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After I had hitched the last fifteen miles (ironically, in the mail contractor's truck) and dropped my gear at my parent's place, "Hi mum and dad, I'll catch up later..." I made my way downtown to see some of my mates I had gone to school with. I was the only who had moved to the university down south, so I had a lot of hanging out to do. Also, I wanted to find B and spend some time with her, if she would still give me time, that is, since I hadn't been the best to her when I left this town. But she was the love of my life, with the most entrancing smile I have ever, and I mean ever, seen. When she smiled, my heart would die for a second, she was so beautiful.

Slight lithe body, pert tight breasts, the type where the nipple is almost bigger than the flesh of her breast; dark eyes and dark skin, rich brown hair, usually cut just shoulder length. And a gap at the top of her legs, quite noticeable when she wore tight jeans - which she usually did.... My young B, not quite my first love, but fuck, I'd ache for her, often. My plan was to go find her at her place and at least try to talk to her. I doubted anything else would be happening, not after the way I had left her at the beginning of the year.

So I made my way across town and walked along by the creek to her place, not quite the house on the other side of the tracks, but almost. As I walked through the bush alongside the creek, I heard the amazing clear tones of a lyrebird chiming off up in the scrub, unseen. The lyrebird not only has one of the most beautiful natural calls, a real song, but they are also extraordinary mimics. I had heard recordings of them sounding like a chainsaw, a telephone, even the click of a camera shutter. This one was a bloody long way off its range though, these birds were usually found a lot further south of here, and nearer the coast.

But ahead of me on the footpath, there was a well loved and well recognised figure coming towards me. B, with the characteristic swing of her hips, tight jeans, thick woollen jacket against the cold, leather boots on her feet. Her face lit up as she saw me, and she ran to me and entered my arms for a whole of body hug. We clutched each other tight for maybe thirty seconds, not saying a word, her arms tight around my back, mine caressing her soft hair. So, forgiven, maybe?

"God A, I've missed you these last months, you bastard, you sweet beautiful bastard. It's so good to see you, it really is." So, forgiven, then. And she turned and laced her arm through mine, as we walked the final few blocks to her house, me telling her about the university and the new people I had met there, and she telling me about goings on in my home town. About Grace I said not one word.

Grace was my private place and my crazy place and, to be honest, my night on the train was only a morning ago and I was still trying to get my head around all of that. So B, who was from a less complicated time, was like a welcome breath of fresh air and, dare I say it after what had happened to me, innocence. It was as if I needed to keep my erotic lust driven present quite separate from a younger, cleaner past. B was pure, and I wanted to keep her that way, in my head at least. Even though she still turned me on something fierce. But it was memories of my fingers in her panties sitting in the back row of the movie theatre that ran through my head with B, not come drenched assholes with the girl disappearing on impossible wings, as it was with Grace.

"Come on in, say hi to mum, I'll make us a coffee. You still two sugars? Sweet boy!" And she grinned, her old line snapping a smile to my stupid face. I really did love this girl.

"Hi, Mrs B," my old greeting as always bringing a smile to her mother's face. I was always made to feel at home here, almost like a son, not the daughter's boyfriend. While the kettle was boiling and the coffee spoon clinking on the cups, Mrs B and I quickly shared the essential news. Hubby still good with his work? Tick, but the old bastard still bitches about my cooking. B still doing dancing classes? Tick, but she's probably gonna quit next year. That simple kid still doing the mowing business? Tick, but don't knock him, coz he is now employing two others, his business has taken off so well.

And we lingered the long afternoon through, just talking talking talking. This was the girl who, when we were both sixteen, taught me that you didn't have to sleep with a girl to love a girl, taught me that you could have a girl who was your best friend but wasn't your girlfriend (but who later, was). This was the girl who, well, she was just the girl. She was B then, and she was B now, and I loved her then and I loved her now. B.

And the day crept on to the time when the afternoon sun streamed through her high window and threw its warm arms of light onto her bed in her room. And she sat on the chair by the bed, in her tight tee shirt, braless, her young woman's breasts proud and high, nipples firm. And she shyly said, "look away, I'm shy, don't watch me undress." So I didn't. I turned away from a sight that I would have died for, just six months ago.

And I lay on her bed, my naked chest warm in the late day sun, and she came to me, her naked breast bare against mine, her nipples hard against mine, her belly soft against mine. Our denim jeans clad our legs, sheathed my risen cock, hid her sex, blue tight cloth on our legs. We lay together, our tongues slowly exploring each other's mouths, lips, the tips of our noses, our eyelids, our throats. And slowly the heat spread through our arms and breasts and bellies, and our fingers reached at the same time for our belts and the zips on our jeans.

Sitting up, I pulled my jeans from my legs, pulling jockey shorts down in the same movement, my cock springing free, hard against my belly, tip reaching just to the edge of my navel. B pushed me back on to the bed, her luscious lips opening over my head, and she sucked down onto my shaft, swelling her cheeks, first one side and then the other as she swirled her tongue over and around my head. One hand nested around my balls, tugging and squeezing the eggs there, palm gliding over the soft hair there. Her other hand squeezed my breast, first one nipple and then the other. Each twist and tug on my tight nubs tightened into a straight connection to my prick, which bounced in her mouth.

My fingers twitched with ecstasy and the pleasure of it, her gentle hand grasping my rigid shaft, red nails rippling up my flesh, tracing the thick vein along the top side of my cock. And a mewl sounded deep in her throat, vibrating there, deep and longing. And her fingers twitched. And then she reared her head from my cock, saliva stringing a long thread from the tip of my cock to her full red lips. And she too sat up, and she too peeled her tight jeans from her slender legs., leaving a delectable pair of black cotton panties, wetness spreading from below her mound.

I reached for the band of her panties and slid them down her legs. She lifted her ass from the bed so I could slide them away from the taut curve of her cheeks. And she lay there, naked, her dark triangle of hair rich and thick at the base of her belly, a tiny dark thread of fine hair up the seam of her belly to her navel, a few single hairs on each of her big dark nipples. Even though we had heavy petted in our last term together at school, and been topless together, this was the first time I had seen her completely naked. Fuck, she was beautiful, simply that, beautiful.

"We can't make love, I've got my period, but please please, can you stroke me there, if it doesn't freak you out." Wow, B was pretty open minded, and I guess I was too, because it didn't worry me at all that there might be some blood between her legs. Totally natural, and in fact we found at my residential college that most of the women there actually synched up their cycles within three or four months - pretty amazing really. And sure enough, there was a little trail of string, white against her thick black hair.

Better than stroke her there, I descended to her slick lips and tugged at them with mine, before finding her erect little clit, standing high. Because she was B I felt tentative and nervous with her - it was after all our first time, totally nude like this. And her cunt tasted slightly tangy with her blood, not sweet honey like I had tasted with Grace, but not unpleasant either. But I didn't care, since it was hot sex under my tongue and peaked nipples under my palms and between my fingers, and hot wet mouth as I reached fingers higher to her face.

She moaned as I worked on that little bud full of nerves, my tongue licking up the long glide of her lips, swelling now with rich purple heat, her little blaze of a clit red and high, surrounded by black curling hair. Her hands touched my hair, a gentle pressure telling me clearly, stay there, stay there, my sweet boy, stay there. My lips again tasted the metallic tang of her as I sucked on her dark sex, her hands firmer on my head now as she reached a long tremor of pleasure, shuddering. She sighed, and her hands stroked my face, a slight edge of fingernail tracing a thin ridge of heat down my flesh.

And then she was less interested in her own pleasure than she was in mine. For her hands grabbed my shaft, and she pulled me up to lie along side her, my cock over her belly and in her hands, her probing tongue once again in my mouth. And with long slow strokes she pulled heat up from my balls along the length of me and into the purple head of me. And again she mewled deep in her throat and I glanced up to her eyes.

Dark, black eyes, no whites, just black orbs. Oh fuck oh fuck oh no, no longer the eyes of my sweet innocent B, but the corrupted knowing malevolence of her, and my prick pulsed with the horrible knowledge of the feeding that was about to come, and the inevitability of it, and the corrupt obsession of it, and the hated pleasure of it, and the powerful perversion of it, and the theft of B' s innocent beauty for her own malificent purposes.

"Oh my sweetness, I am sorry, I am so sorry, I ... Oh fuck fuck fuck I am coming, my sweet bitch, you evil fucking bitch, fucking leave me alone...." And l exploded thick jets of come, streaming over her belly in pulses of creamy whiteness. And her dark skin bleached at the touch of my seed.

"Oh it burns, it burns," she wailed, B' s voice gone now, her vocal cords tortured to make the words that were no longer natural for that throat, that long arching, pulsing throat. And her one hand raked to her cunt and pulled up a thread of her blood that was there, and mixed it to the creamy mess on her belly. And her other hand, a single long talon curved from her longest finger, and she sliced it along the pulsing vein of my still rigid cock, pulling a thin thread of my blood and mixed it to the creamy mess on her belly. And she scooped the pink warm fluid between her fingers and fed it to her mouth, swallowing long in her throat. And swallowed it down. And as she did, I heard a croak from her inhuman throat:

"We are blood brothers, now we are blooded together," and with a thump the window fell to its sash and the glass shattered, and the air swirled, and I was alone. Oh my God, there was cold and malevolence in the room, and I realised how cruel she was, and how powerful she was, as she had made me believe for the most part of the day that she was my beautiful B, but she was not. But I could not tell whether she had possessed B, or whether she had made herself into the image of B' s innocence.

Shivering, I shuffled into my clothes. Reaching for my shoes I felt cloth, and found the black cotton panties were on the floor. I picked them up and turned them over in my hands. I could not tell if they were B' s panties or not, but put them in my pocket. Opening the door of the bedroom, I was expecting to see the homely kitchen and back room of the house - but all was dark. The house felt cold, not lived in. And as I struggled to the front door, I kicked papers on the floor. Reaching down, I picked up half a dozen envelopes - and in the fading light of dusk I was able to see that they were addressed to members of B' s family. The earliest post mark must have been about three months ago.

So I had been in a deserted house all afternoon, and Grace had been a monstrous simulacrum of my beloved B. And I remembered the chime of the lyrebird I had heard earlier that day. The bird with one of the most beautiful calls of all, but also the best mimic of all the birds.... God, she was growing strong.

And as I wandered through the coldness and darkness of the night, I heard her last words again. But I could not keep the words completely clear in my head:

"We are blood brothers, now we are blooded together."

Or did she say, "we are blood, brother, now we are blood, together..."

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ElectricBlueElectricBlueover 8 years agoAuthor
Author's warning - spoiler alert

The next chapter takes a very dark turn and involves incest, both father-son and mother-son.

Some readers may not like this. If you are one of those folk, please just jump the chapter and go straight to Chapter 8.

Some readers wanted warning, so here it is, at the expense of giving away a plot point. It is a very dark chapter, I admit that. Death was in my life at the time, and darkness fell, before the sun rose again.

True believers, keep reading - soon you will meet Grace's mother, and a lot further on, her father. Both worth waiting for...

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