Primal Scream (Box Set #1, Taboo Sex + AFF) (12 page)

Rachel left a lipstick stain on the wineglass, and on the side of his face, when she came over to wish him and give him a quick smooch. She was wearing a musky fragrance—which was a lot more arousing than the red wine she let Brent have a taste of.

Brent’s thoughts went back to the present, fantasizing and envisioning in his mind that he’d just stepped into her room. He’d do a striptease along the way—take off one piece of clothing with each step forward that he took.

What did Rachel wear in bed? A nightgown? Or just “Very Sexy,” her favorite fragrance from Victoria’s Secret? It was an enchanting scent that came in a ruby-red bottle with faux diamond studs on the box. Rachel had good taste, better taste than Cindy, for sure.

He’d not give Rachel a chance to say a single word—he’d pin her down on her bed, rape her and make love to her at the same time—he’d fuck her hard first, move his shaft in and out of her like he was on fire and like his life depended on it, and then he’d do her nice and slowly after that, maybe even tie her down with one of her satin scarves, while he ran his fingernails lightly over her erect nipples. He got so hard just thinking about how wet she would become at his touch, at
his
skill, at the satisfaction she got through him…she only deserved the best. Brent thought about this almost every time that he jacked off—that the womanly aspect of her was to be admired, not feared or disdained, and he wondered if he’d dare someday to get up close in between her legs. He always thought her scent would linger on him for days afterward, and that everyone would know because of this.

As Brent moved into his late teenage years, his friendships with other males tended to be deeper and more intense than anything he’d had with other females his age. He didn’t have the same problem with older women, whom he’d always been nice to, and vice versa. They seemed more secure, more real, in a sense, like they’d been through more real shit in life (not the “I just misplaced my cell phone” type of apocalyptic disasters), and had fewer expectations. He choked on the superficiality and vapidity of the younger
Gossip Girls
type set.

Brent looked up to Rachel. It was driving him wild, looking up to older ladies, and having no interest in any ladies younger than he was. He’d seen the hard look of stone-cold hatred in Cindy’s eyes too, whenever she was with Rachel.

Perhaps it was better that Rachel and Cindy weren’t in each other’s company much. It made it easier to deal with. Better to stay out, than get out of trouble.

* * *

[ Back to the Present ]

The heavy industrial mix blared through all four corners of the house. “This is…the time…I feel…alive!!” shrieked the frontman, sounding almost like he was shredding his vocal chords.

“
Yeeah!” Rachel hollered at the top of her lungs, as she flopped down beside a group of 4-5 young men around Brent’s age, who were seated or sprawled out on the living room floor. It’d become a weekly affair for Brent and his friends, getting crunk/crazy drunk at Rachel Coker’s crib—brought to them by the only mother on the block cool enough not just to open up her house, but cool enough to chill and hang out with them. Hell, she even opened her ever smooth and never-ending legs for them now and then. And she didn’t just run along, but topped their antics, from time to time.

She’d gone streaking with them once, out in broad daylight, through the wet, wild grass and dirt and mud and raw earth. That’s what she’d always liked about living in the countryside. Leave the city and its noise and pollution and crowds to those who wanted to climb the corporate ladder, and spend their days running around like mad dogs and headless chickens. She had better things to do.

Like spreading her legs wide, and wrapping her arms around one of Brent’s friends—Gabriel, a six-foot stud with killer good looks. She’d had sex with him a few times, usually in the kitchen, seated on the wooden chair as they played tongue hockey and stripped all their clothes off. Rachel took great pride and satisfaction in sometimes passing these boys and their girlfriends or wives around town throughout the week—the girls would be pushing their prams, gaining weight, gossiping.

Been there, done that,
Rachel would think. Once, she’d pinched Gabriel’s butt cheek when no one was looking, as he and his girlfriend walked down the supermarket aisle in the other direction. Gabriel, looking like a debauched angel, shot a smirk back—Rachel licked her lower lip and raised an eyebrow in response, as she kept her stride.

One of these days, she was going to go out boy-hunting. That was going to be the goal for the day. She would drive out to the city, seek out fit and handsome young men, and lure them back to a Comfort Inn suite, where she’d bang them throughout the night, in horizontal and vertical furies, and all sorts of other crazy-assed positions. So, she was a big whore—the end.

Rachel had no need to at the moment though, since her house was never in short supply of suitable youthful male bodies, throughout the month. She’d had sex with almost all of Brent’s friends that regularly came over—all of them, except for Brent himself. She wanted to, but was still content fantasizing about it. He was like a best friend to her. She didn’t know if she wanted to just use him for a physical release. Besides, his friends had heaps and heaps of stamina—like Rachel—and they had no problems keeping up with her, and keeping busy for long amounts of time.

Rachel moved her black and pastel pink pleated skirt up her legs, grinding her pelvis against Gabriel.

“
Move over,” said Tommy, wrongly typecast as a shy kid who hardly ever said a word at school, but who found his strong, steady voice at keg parties, and such. He started unbuckling his jeans, and Gabriel followed, as he set Rachel down on the sofa. Gabriel was always Rachel’s first choice. He had the whole tall, dark and handsome thing going—completely irresistible.

She peeled off her thin white t-shirt, her fleshy nipples rosy-pink-hued, and hard as the buttons on the guys’ jeans. She started rubbing and squeezing her breasts together, running one of her feet up Gabriel’s calve muscle, and then her other foot up Tommy’s leg, as they started stroking their members.

“
Start me up,” Rachel sexily snarled at them, in the tune of the Rolling Stones’ classic song.

Rachel flicked her tongue over Gabriel’s swollen dick head, and did the same to Tommy, before she started to take two of their dicks into her mouth.
When you’re looking for a mature blowjob, she was the lady you wanted to go to
—all of Brent’s close friends knew that for a fact.

“
Rach-el!” The only voice that would make her stop, in the primal heat of action.

“
What the fuck, Brent!” Tommy exclaimed, as he continued pumping himself.

But Tommy was more amused than angered. After all, he’d be getting none of this, if it weren’t for Brent in the first place. If Brent or Rachel interrupted, Tommy was cool with it. He wasn’t as mild-mannered if someone else got in the way at the wrong time.

“
Brent?” Rachel looked around, bra falling over the seat, a hand still on Gabriel’s curved up cock. “Where’re you?” And then, since Brent had made his presence known, Rachel added, “Would you like to join us?”

She saw Brent, looking skinnier than ever, loitering around on the staircase, looking like he was going to lurch. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his cheeks seemed to look a little more sunken than usual.
Gotta feed him—he’s disappearing!
Rachel made a mental note to herself.

“
Oh…you guys…” Brent gave a slight wave, staggering on the step, clinging on to the stair railing. He wasn’t completely wasted, just a little hazy. He’d just smoked some of the dope Rachel kept stashed in her room. He shared some joints with Rachel sometimes.

Rachel had nothing to prove when she did Brent’s friends the favors, which is why they loved having sex with her. They didn’t have to force themselves to indulge her in endless foreplay. They explored and tasted her between the legs, not because she made them, but because she pleased their dicks so well. They felt morally obliged to reciprocate in kind, in reverence.

She slipped her shirt back on and went up to her room. Brent was lying down on the floor beneath her bed, facing the wall, dressed only in his boxer shorts.

“
Is everything okay?”

Brent nodded, sad and sullen. Everything was not okay.

He’d seen Rachel naked on numerous occasions, this past year, ever since his friends started coming over to her place for alcohol and dope, and a spacious place to hang out. He’d seen her more naked more times in the past few weeks than he had in his whole life.

“
Why d’you have sex with everyone else but me?” Brent looked up when there was a loud shout downstairs, and some cheering. Rachel walked over to the door, and locked it. She turned, resting against the door for a moment, looking back at Brent. Her attire said “slutty chic,” but her facial expression said, “concerned friend, who’s listening right now.”

Rachel thought about it sometimes, how she felt more like a friend than an older neighbor to Brent, sometimes. Good company mattered more than age differences.

“
I thought you’d find it weird,” Rachel shrugged, combing her hair with her fingers. Brent had stood around before, as a spectator, watching Rachel as she rolled around and got dirty with some of his friends, a naked orgy where they all tried to keep up with each other. He’d seen her gangbanged by 5 guys—1 dick in her pussy, 1 dick up her ass, one in her mouth, and while she was giving two hand jobs—she sure could multi-task.

It was hard to believe this was the same group of guys that used to come by Rachel’s house when they were all young kids, making snow angels in her huge garden whenever there was a fresh blanket of snow during the wintertime, raking the leaves during summertime, blueberry picking. They still rolled around a lot, just indoors more, nowadays.

“
You know the other time…when the fight broke out…” Brent muttered.

He had wrestled away his friend’s cell phone, which had a recording of Rachel riding a fellow classmate. Brent had knocked one of the guy’s teeth out before the guy deleted the clip, and swore never to do it again. Brent came close to snapping the guy’s neck, and smashing the guy’s face into the ground, as he pinned him down on the cold hard floor, before the guy finally agreed to get rid of the clip. He was allowed to continue coming over to their crunk parties, so long as he kept his mouth shut about it, and kept his beloved cell phone out of the picture.

Those were two rules Brent had set up right from the start anyway.

Rule #1: Do not tell anybody about these crunk parties.

Rule #2: Do not talk about this anywhere.

So far, so good. Twelve members, at the maximum, twelve close friends who’d be there for each other through thick and thin.

“
I don’t want to treat you bad,” Brent continued. “Like my dad did, y’know.” The son of a bitch who’d split when Brent turned five. “I just can’t.”

Rachel smiled, before lying down beside Brent, on the carpeted floor. It was strange, how she felt she could be closer to him, almost as if it was in response to the racket that was going on downstairs. She thought Brent had been happy, with his friends over for company, and the supply of drugs and alcohol they both always contributed to. Brent’s friends tried to donate a minimum of $5 each time they came over to, to split up the costs a little more evenly between everyone in attendance.

“
You’ve good friends,” Rachel muttered to him. It was 5pm, but dark outside, since it was wintertime. “They know how to have a good time…how to give and take…I’ve seen y’all grow up over the years…”

Rachel placed a hand on Brent’s arm. “I know you don’t want to do anything bad to me,” she said, understanding where he was coming from. She’d lived for so many years on the same street with him, had known his mother since her school days. She’d been around to help out since Brent was a little boy. Of course she knew him well. She had a good idea of what was really going on in his mind, even if he lied.

Brent gazed up at her, fervently, longingly, like he was offering his soul to her, to be her younger lover.

Rachel rolled over him, gripping his pelvis lightly with her thighs. It’d been some time since she’d started things off a little slowly. It was normally a race to the finish line, and then a repeat of that, for as long as she and whoever she was with at the time could keep up.

She lifted up her skirt, pulling aside the thin red thong strip, to spread her lips out for Brent to see. He watched, focused, never taking his eyes of Rachel and her pussy. She ran her fingers up and down the lips, tapping her clit a few times with a couple of her fingers, until she started moaning from the friction.