Voice of the Mind Ch. 01

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.

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Well, this is my first try at writing a story that involves any kind of explicit sex, so bear with me. At the end of this chapter is a little (well, little ...) disclaimer where I will tell something about me and how this story came to life.

Everyone involved in sexual acts is 18+, but keep in mind that this is not a sex-story; it is a story which doesn't revolve around sex (although it should have plenty of it) so there are a few chapters that does not contain sex. Also, it'll be long, but I hope I can work fast enough not to let you wait too long between chapters.

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Chapter 1.1 – After dark

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When he came home he didn't bother reaching out to turn on the lights. He knew the house well enough by now to find his way without the necessity of light to guide him. It hasn't been long since they occupied the house – merely a few months – but he got used to the house quick enough.

Usually, that is.

This time he had drunk quite a bit, which resulted in him being alittle less responsive to things he should be avoiding. He hit a couple of things with his feet; one foot sent something across the floor when he reached the final step of the stairs. It rattled and hit other things, making much more of a ruckus in the middle of the night than he wanted to. He didn't know what he had kicked and didn't really care much about it either. He was more worried about whether the sound would summon an angry sister.

He held his breath and listened whether his sister would wake up but nobody appeared. He didn't know if she didn't dare to go see who it was or that she just slept through it all. He felt the urge to go look, to open the door and take a peek around the corner – but didn't. For some reason it didn't feel right.

Something in the back of his head leered at him that he'd probably stumble when he'd open the door and end up sprawling on the floor in her room, waking her up. That thought alone made him groan with embarressment and he stumbled over to his own room – this time without kicking any unidentified objects.

The moonlight peered through his windows and illuminated the room. Just below his window was a street lantern, which gave the bottom of the window a little orange glow. The window in the adjescent wall looked out on the house next to him, which was pitch dark. But his thoughts went out to the little glow on the window.

That's a nice sight, he thought.A little orange glow. Atmospheric. Romantic.

"If only I weren't alone," he added in a whisper. "It would be nice if I could show a girl this little piece of happiness on the window pane."

There was a little pain in his chest when he realized that Jenny wasn't with him right now. She'd appreciate his poetic mood and would've probably aided him in his melancholy.

They had gone to a party together and while they initially stayed together they naturally drifted apart once they saw other people they knew. Usually they would join them and when there were enough people they would split off in smaller groups, generally splitting Jenny and Vincent up for the evening.

They often met up again and had a good time, but they both didn't feel the need to stick around each other. It wasn't because they didn't like each other, but when attending a party they simply mingled with others and hopped from group to group. It was simply how they were and they didn't wish to impose on the other by dragging them along wherever they went.

This night he had seen Jenny dance with a couple of guys and he had noticed her waving when he had been dancing with a couple of other girls, sometimes making a show of it just to show off a bit. At some point he had tried to lift up a girl when the music seemed to ask for it and collapsed under her because he had too much to drink. In the corner of his eye he had seen Jenny laughing so hard she nearly collapsed herself. She had to cling to some random bystander to manage to support herself, much to the dismay of said bystander.

At some point Jenny had disappeared, which she sometimes did when someone hit on her. The same went for him, but today there had been no such luck; he had gone home alone and now he felt lonely. There was no Jenny and there was no other girl who might've wanted to stay the night with him.

He swayed and realized he was too drunk to be even close to romantic even if he had a girl with him. He had to support himself to a table next to the door in order to avoid the previous vision of sprawling on the floor. The small table shifted a bit under his weight and moved a few inches across the wooden floor, causing another unholy scraping sound that made him cringe. He also had to grab a small lamp which started to have an increasing interest in the ground. It took him three tries to actually grab it to hold it still before it would collapse.

He looked at the wall which seperated his room from his sister's. This also felt melancholic. He realized he really wanted to go over and watch her sleep. Nicole was always so beautiful when she was sleeping. She always had been.

Even back when they were children he had noticed that. When she fell asleep on his legs, or when they shared a room and she fell asleep earlier than he did. Back when they were little they had the same bedtimes and after the lights went out they usually kept whispering to each other for a while afterwards. Most children had a double-bed, or beds placed on different sides of the room. They didn't; their beds were single beds placed next to each other, technically seperating the room into two halves. It solved a lot of issues where kids usually have arguments about whether something is on their half, as it was pretty clear which half it was in their room.

He always stayed awake a little longer to see her face and to stroke her hair. From his position in bed he could easily make out her facial traits, but after a particular time he stopped doing that. In their early teens it felt wrong to do it, but he never lost the urge. When they hit puberty, she stopped laying her head on his legs. Around the same time they also didn't sleep in the same room anymore, so regardless of his urge, the decision was made for him. And he had stopped appreciating the beauty of his sister, replacing it with mostly annoyance as most other teenagers feel for their siblings.

He unbuttoned his shirt and attempted to throw it towards the laundry bin. He missed hilariously; it nearly went in the other direction, that far off it went. It wasn't his style; he couldn't stand it when there were clothes on the floor when there was a place where they belonged. He knew he should pick it up because it would bug him the entire night before he got to sleep. His feet didn't like that idea. They refused to move. He told them who was boss and found out that he had missed them going on strike.

He measured the distance.

Two steps.

It could've just as well been a thousand. Too far. Not worth the effort.

He started working on his belt, but apparently somewhere during the night someone had replaced it with some sort of chastity belt when he had looked the other way. No matter what he did, he couldn't pry it open.

He took two steps in a different direction – those feet knew damn well where they wanted to be – and let himself fall, face down, realizing that a belt wasn't worth that much trouble in the first place. He breathed in through the sheets and sniffed the air of fragrance.

He had changed the sheets yesterday, so they still emitted the smell of detergent. His sister always told him that she loved it when the sheets were freshly washed because it felt so clean when she went to bed. He never thought about it that way, until he now became aware of the smell.

I shouldn't have changed the sheets yesterday, he thought.Such a shame when you get home drunk and decide to go to sleep all dressed up, stinking of smoke and booze. It'll waste the smell of the sheets.

He didn't know when he had closed his eyes.

He didn't know when he fell asleep.

He didn't know there was someone watching him either, just the way he used to watch his sister.

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Chapter 1.2 – Jenny

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He was eating her. Going down on her. Cunnilingus. There are many ways of describing what he was doing, but she wasn't really enjoying it. The thing that bugged her was his name.

Paul.Philip.Pascal. It was something with a 'P', but she couldn't figure out which one. If he was going to give her a good time she should at least remember his name. She had already decided that it didn'tmatter what his name was, but it still bugged her.

"Mmmmm," she moaned. "That feels good, Paul."

He stopped momentarily and glanced up. "My name's Peter," he said from between her legs.

"Of course. Just keep going."

Okay, that was ridiculous. You could've thought up a better way to ask his name. But she knew his name wasn't what was really bothering her. Not really. It was simply that this guy was also not the guy she dreamed of. Not the guy she really wanted to take home. So she had to settle for this guy.But he's pretty decent with his skill. Not like some other guys I've been with. Could've been worse. Not that I had sex with so many guys; he's only the third, but still.

And he kept going, just as she asked him. She held his head with both hands, guiding him whenever he strayed, but mostly to make sure he applied the right amount of pressure on her sensitive parts. His tongue touched her lips, licked them all the way up till he could nibble on her clitoris. It sent lightning through her body. Three times, four times and she was on fire. She was shaking. Bucking. She was cumming.

When it was over, she was lying down on her back, eyes closed. She felt Paul –or Philip – move, place his dick to her entrance and her eyes flared open.

"You got protection?" she asked.

"Do I need to?" he asked cautiously. "Anything I should know?"

"Alimony?"

"Christ, you're not even on the pill?"

She smiled wickedly. "Should I? It helps keeping guys from sticking their dicks without rubber into me for kicks."

He shrugged and put the condom on she offered him. Then he went to work.

The steady thrusting had a lulling effect on her. She had already gotten off and she wasn't really in the mood. She was still wet enough to not dislike the feeling, but her mind was elsewhere. Partly due to the booze she had drunk, partly because of how she had seen that Vincent had left before her, drunk like a fish. The idea of a drunk fish made her giggle, not because it wasn't the actual saying – she couldn't remember and made something up herself – but because it was funny to imagine how a fish could get drunk while being submerged in water.

He would reach his home safely; the bus would drop him off close enough. The bus stop was right under his own window after all. But she would've likedhim to get her home. And end up with in bed. She imagined it was him thrusting a dick in her, rather than Philip –or was it Pascal? – who was doing his best in making it seem like he was doing it for her.

She moaned by the idea of Vincent sticking his dick into her the way it happened now. And she realized that that idea was making her more wet. She got into the mood.

She adjusted a bit to allow his penis more leeway into her and started touching her tits. She could feel the effect that had on the one fucking her, as the pace went up.

If this only had been Vincent, she thought,I'd be cumming already. And I don't even know whether he's good in bed or not. But that guy turns me on so much that he probably wouldn't even need to stick it in at all in order for me to get off..

She lost herself in her own fantasy of Vincent sticking his cock in her hole and she started bucking along. Her partner sped up once more and she felt like she was really sensitive to fantasies which featured Vincent – her climax was building already despite having cum only a few minutes ago.

But her partner came first, leaving her short from her second orgasm, and he collapsed on the bed, next to her. She waited for him to get his second wind, until she heard a familiar sound.

The fucker issnoring! He's fallen asleep!

She poked him hard and he woke up.

"What is it?" he asked, startled.

You go to sleep and then ask what is wrong? You have a lot of guts, mister. And I suspect a lot less girlfriends after that first time.

"My husband will be home in 20 minutes, so you better get ready to scram."

"What?! Husband?" He yelled and sat up straight. "You never told me about any husband."

"Why? You wanted to fuck him too? I thought you were here for me."

He looked at her with an irritated glance and started dressing. She heard the door slam within a minute. She rolled over onto her back, occupying the entire bed with her arms stretched out.

Who'd believe a 20 year old student who's married, not on the pill and doesn't have kids?

But she simply didn't want him around any longer and wanted him to leave. This was the first thing that came up in her mind and it worked. After all, he was only a substitute. And those should know their place. She didn't want to wake up tomorrow morning with some stranger next to her, making smalltalk to avoid awkward subjects like the previous night and when they would see each other again. She wondered why she even went down this path. He was only the third guy she had slept with, aside from her boyfriend back when she was only 16 – but it simply didn't satisfy her. The sex was okay, sometimes even good, but it was not what she craved.

She pulled the sheet over her body, but before sleep came, she managed to finger herself to another climax – with Vincent on her mind.

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Chapter 1.3 – The voice of the mind

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They were sitting in the cafetaria after they met up between classes. He had been talking about how Richard had been disrupting class again and Jenny hadn't managed to eat anything due to her laughing without pause. So far it had been a really nice day. So unlike this morning when he had woken up.

He's had a very strange dream, one in which he believed that Jenny had his eye on him. That she liked him for more than just a good friend. That she was in love with him.

It had taken him aback and it left its effects on him when they had met up in the cafetaria. He had been stiff, uncomfortable for a while.

She had never said anything about it to him, nor had she ever given off subtle hints, although he could write it off as her suffering from a little hangover herself. She never really took him seriously and half the time she didn't even really pay attention to him despite him accompanying her to a party. That's just how their friendship worked; they merely liked hanging out with each other, even if they went seperate ways the moment after they arrived.

They never felt like they were restricted by sticking together. They both knew that they would meet up later on and in the meantime they could spend their time as they pleased. Vincent always thought of it as something like a soulmate and he believed she felt the same. He never thought she'd actually start liking him as more than that. But having the dream made him more aware of her, of her actions, of her movements.

He has had these kind of vague premonitions before. He used to know exactly what his sister thought or felt, but he figured that was because she was his twin sister. And when you live with someone your entire life up to now, you tend to get to know them pretty well.

Stop that, he said to himself.You're overanalyzing again. It was adream. Now get on with your life.

You've known Jenny for years. If she was in love with you, you would've known.

That sounded convincing enough for him to drop the thing altogether. So when they sat down and he had started off talking about how Nicole had been correcting the professor and winning the actual debate, he had forgotten all about it. He followed up with his talk about Richard and time flew. His sandwich was gone for the most part. Jenny's was gone already and she was now drinking a milkshake – something he couldn't believe one would drink during lunch. Then again, he always knew she was kind of nuts – she had to be to put up with him all these years.

Thatmouth. God, what would I give to plant my lips on those.

"Haha, did you hear that?" he said while looking around to see which girl was ogling a guy.

"What? I didn't hear anything."

"Someone wanted to kiss somebody."

She slurped her milkshake. "That happens. There are all kind of horny people when you're this age."

He turned back towards Jenny. "You sound like an old man, you know that?"

She hunched over, narrowed her eyes and groaned in a low, dark voice: "Oooooh, back in my days, people were much moresophisticatuuud."

This time it was his turn to burst out in laughter. Long enough for someone to slap a hand on his shoulder.

"Would mr. Masters tune it down a bit? There are peopleworking here!"

Vincent turned around and punched him on the leg. Richard twitched and hit him on the head.

"You finally got away from Grover?" Vincent asked.

Richard sat down next to him and put down a plate with a sole sandwich. "That guy just likes me. He said he wants me to come over more often. Preferably after school and sit in a class alone with him. And then he promised we'll dofun things, like actually making homework or extra assignments. And if I fail them, I can come over evenmore often! What a guy. He must really like me.

But I told him I can't – I can't let you guys suffer in the cafetaria for eating lunch without my presence. Things would be so dull that you might fall asleep and miss the next class. Wouldn't want to have that on my conscience."

Jenny choked on her milkshake. Richard always had that effect on her.

"See! Now she's choking on her milkshake from sheer joy from seeing me around. I can't keep those promises with Grover! I have myresponsibilities."

"You also have the responsibility to actuallynot fail your class, you know."

"You jester," Richard waved. "As if I'd ever fail his class. I know the answers to the questions before he asks them. And even then he'd stutter, because he knows I would answer before he had even finished his question. It's allin the mind, you know." He tapped on his forehead as if to indicate he had special powers working in there.

"I don't understand why you even attend class," Jenny said. "You always fool around, yet you ace those tests as if you've actually studied."

Richard suddenly looked serious. "But I do study. A lot. By now I know everything when it comes toWarcraft. I always feel sad they don't ask any questions about that subject in tests."

Vincent shook his head while Jenny was having trouble not to push her milkshake content back in the cup through her nose.

Richard is a fun guy, you can really laugh with him. He always acts like a moron, but he's really smart. It lets him fool around while still acing the tests.

Vincent ate the last part of his sandwich and licked the sauce from his fingers.

Christ. If only he would use these fingers on me ... I'd be gushing so much, he couldn't lick off the sauce even if he wanted.

He nearly choked on that last piece of sandwich.

What the hell was that?

"You okay, buddy?" Richard asked, a hand on his shoulder.

"Everything okay, I just choked on the sauce for a bit."