by Writing Shark
A liberated kitten and a watchful lioness
You can only see the world outside your car in a white blur. The garbage cans, wooden pallets, and stacks of cardboard boxes turn into a blurry oil painting because of the moisture on your windows, and the gray and brown colors make the outside world seem cold and harsh. Inside your car, it’s warm and cozy. Especially for Denise who snuggles up to you, purring and rubbing her young titties against your torso. Her high-pitched whimpers and moans fill your car as she feels you deep inside her and slowly thrusts her hips onto you. Your kitty has taken off her pants and her pink panties are hanging around one of her ankles while you make love in the backseat of your car, which is capped all the way back. There’s not much room there, even with the front seats tilted forward, but Denise needs you now. Wide-legged, with her upper body facing you, she sits on top of you and moves slowly. It is almost not sex but closeness and even her shirt which she has rolled up over her breasts does not obscure how intimate you are. The blonde girl has her arms crossed on your chest and lays her head on it to smell your scent while you embrace her back and shoulders with one arm. The other one wanders behind her and your hand rests on the back of her head while your fingers run through her light hair and gently tickle her.
Today was the first appointment with the therapist your mother got Denise and the girl was especially nervous. Of course you were there and didn’t leave her side the whole time. The woman you took your kitten to is already over sixty, friendly and has a calm, matter-of-fact and therefore pleasant sense of humor. You immediately saw the differences with your world. But above all, she is experienced and sensitive and you quickly decided to trust her. Denise also noticed this and introduced you as her new boyfriend and supporter so that the woman did not ask you to leave the comfortably furnished room. Of course, nothing could change the fact that talking about her experiences was difficult and bad for Denise. But your kitten had shown its claws and revealed a fighter nature that you had already admired in uncontrolled form at the lake. Under the guidance of the old lady and with your support, Denise had reflected on her life in a monotonous and steady voice, leaving nothing out, though she had deftly maneuvered around you and your world. You held her hand as she told of her childhood, of her brother and her mother. Her father got off amazingly well in the matter but the blame for her misery falls on the whole family, which you haven’t told Denise yet. Seeing her come to terms with her life was amazing and inspiring, an assessment the therapist had also made. A few times she had looked at you when Denise had told about her experiences with her brother and you are aware that your relationship with the traumatized girl will also be dealt with soon, but you don’t worry about it. It is clear to you that you are doing what is good for Denise Lynchwood and the old lady had smiled when she didn’t even want to let go of your hand to say goodbye. You had also thanked her and all in all you have a good feeling about this woman and the future of your dear Denise.
Of course she started crying in the car. Not strongly and it was more from happiness than from sadness, which in turn had driven a hair into your eye completely surprisingly and not in the least connected with it so that you also, completely unconnected had to sniffle briefly. This had made Denise laugh and her kisses were first gentle, then demanding and then gentle again when she had asked you for her treatment. When having sex with you, almost always the same thing goes on in Denise. First she snuggles up to you, gently and tenderly, then she is overcome with desire for you and your body, for the feelings you can give her when she is a good kitten. But unlike the other girls, Denise goes through another phase, that of control. It amazes you every time she breaks off her hot kisses, looks at you mischievously and asks for her treatment. A treatment, your help and her reward are the ears, the collar and the leash you put on your girlfriend. Then her mouth closes, she smiles and doesn’t say another word. It’s amazing and you don’t quite understand it.
In any case, Denise needs the whole package today and her collar and leash make soft noises as the leather, warmed by body heat, slides over her back and ends up in your hand. Her little ears wiggle a bit under your fingers but her hair feels too good not to press her head gently on your chest and feel the air flow in and out of her mouth. For all your partners it is normal to let their lust run free as soon as they feel your spear or tongue tip in one of their holes and it turns you on to know that you can control them in a way they like. Not so Denise. The girl who has submitted the most to you also has the most extraordinary way of showing you her love and belonging. Sex with Denise is not about freedom, something that disturbed you when you first found out about it. Denise finds her pleasure in being controlled by you. You lead her with the leash, directing her movements, leading her to good feelings. The collar binds her to you, shows her that she belongs to you. And the ears make her the cute, good, sometimes naughty kitten that now presses her naked thighs against you to be close to you. Her ears show Denise that she doesn’t need a voice to be heard, doesn’t even need to be human to be treated as such. Your cock twitches in her tight snatch as you realize what you are giving her when you make her your tamed pet and you have to grin maniacally, surprised yourself by the genius of your actually improvised plan. In controlling her, steering her and guiding her, Denise finds what she has been searching for all her life. And she knows it. She knows it exactly as she looks at you and feels your juice squirting long and deep into her.
Briefly you see her eyes roll upward, then she closes them, nibbles with her eyebrows drawn together on her lower lip, rises from you, rests her paws on your chest with her fingers curled together, and is completely still as she experiences her second climax. It is nothing special. Once she came with when you pinched her neck with your teeth and now when she feels you emptying yourself inside her. It takes strength, discipline and fidelity to keep her from moaning loud and wild, calling your name, clawing her fingers into your flesh or doing anything else you like about your other girlfriends. The orgasm the newest Lynchwood experiences is exactly what she has always wanted. It proves to her that she is what you’ve always seen in her, shows her that she can do anything. And to you, her high-pitched whining is music to your ears. Of course, you do her the favor and thrust into her a little faster and wilder, letting her bob on top of you while being careful not to let her head hit the ceiling of your car. You really need a bigger car. But you don’t have that much money and if you were to ask your parents, you would have to somehow make them understand that you need a harem-mobile. But your thoughts are occupied by Denise who drains her milk out of your cock with a satisfied smile. One last hum, then her slender body slides down on you and your hands go under her firm butt cheeks to hold her against you.
You let your girlfriend doze on top of you for a few minutes, holding her tightly while your juice runs out of her and drips quietly onto the foot-mat. You have to rethink the rule about not allowing liquids in the car, since they’ve been your own lately. You have to giggle and Denise turns her head around on your twitching torso and purrs contentedly again. Finally, it gets cool in the car and you can see out as drops run down the in inside. While Denise slumbers in your embrace and against your strong body, well protected and warmed, you can think. You took a chance, again, when you had slept with her. There are not so many secluded side streets in your city, and you were saved only by the rainy weather, which should subside by evening. But now the sky hangs overcast, unusual for this time of year, but a welcome stroke of luck for you and your pet. But you can’t rely on luck forever. Of course it’s easy to explain your relationship, after all Denise is your girlfriend, over eighteen and so you’re allowed to have sex as often as you like. But you don’t let your kitten climb on you out of a desire for exhibitionism, she’s not cute Emma. It is a necessity and with three other girlfriends at your house and Emma and the McKinleys who like to visit, it will be hard for you to give Denise the closeness she needs and deserves. She is so strong and deserves to have a friend, a owner, to take care of her. And it is dangerous. If someone catches you, you have to explain the leash. That would also fall under the I-am-her-boyfriend rule, but it would raise questions nevertheless. And the world has already found in you and Emma the couple everyone has been waiting for so long. You sigh and look out the steamy window. Everything was easier at the lake. But you owe it to your girls to make it work somehow.
Then you feel the body against you move slightly. Denise lifts her sleepy head, her hair covering most of her face and her ears hanging crookedly on her head, but her smile is all you need to survive and make the sun shine again. She sneezes softly and presses her lips together to keep from giggling while her slightly narrowed eyes study you in love. Then she rubs her cheek against your chest and you understand the sign. You lead Denise but the whole exercise would be useless if you didn’t encourage her free will. So first you take her ears off her head, click the leash off her neck bath, and finally take that off too. A streak of sweat has settled around her neck and you run your fingers over it so that the moisture doesn’t pull the warmth you’ve awakened in her out of her body.
“I love you” Denise says, this time she even manages to wait two seconds before it bursts out of her.
“I love you too honey,” you say and kiss her on the forehead.
“No, you don’t understand,” the girl shakes her head and you raise your eyebrows.
“No? Does my kitty need a pat on the butt to know who the owner is here?” You smile, not meaning it, and prefer to caress her butt cheeks while she giggles.
“I know who I belong to honey,” she says, nibbling her lip again. “But I love you so, so, soooo much.”
“Come here,” you say, hugging her tightly. She should feel your closeness, your desire to have her with you.” Denise snuggles up to you and runs her fingers over your chest.
“I don’t want that to change,” she says, and she doesn’t sound scared, much more defiant. It sounds sweet and you know where these thoughts are coming from.
“You don’t have to worry,” you tell her what she wants to hear. “You decide for yourself what you want Denise. No one can take that away from you. If you want to stay with me then that’s what will happen. You had a bad time but your future is up to you, got it?” She nods her head and her hair tickles you.
“But you command me” she murmurs, again not sad, much more in love. “I’m yours.” You love these balancing acts with her, these little challenges she gives you, anything to make her happy.
“Yes, you are mine. But I will make sure that the control you have over your life remains Denise. You made a choice. You chose me, and that makes me overjoyed. Yes, I may decide a lot about you, I admit, and we both like that,” Denise giggles again. “But you have chosen the path and I am grateful that I may go before you to help you.”
“You’re so good with your words,” hums the girl, and apparently you’ve hit just the right nerve.
“Not just with words I hope” you grin and squeeze her butt cheek slightly making Denise move her butt for you.
“No,” she laughs softly. “Not just with words.” Then she kisses you, long and intimately, with tongue but not aggressively.
You are dressed by now and Denise hands you her deodorant with which you want to cover the smells of sweat and cum a bit before you get home. The air conditioner is pumping heat into the car and the windows are clear by now. You’re just readjusting your seat while your kitten buckles in next to you.
“Are you going to be okay on your own tonight?” you ask her, checking the rearview mirror. Yesterday you were alone for the first time in a long time while your girlfriends were shopping. You took a long bath, listened to music and played some games but secretly wished to see one… or more of the girls. You are not used to being alone anymore and even if you enjoy it, cuddling and sex have become something special every day in your life. You can’t blame your mother for having a stressful day today. First the appointment with Denise and in the evening you have the appointment with Emma and her family. You are looking forward to seeing your elf and Star Wars is always on. Denise seems to have the same thoughts as you.
“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Millie and I are watching a movie too and your other sisters are doing their hair or something like that.”
“Really?” you want to know with interest. Megan didn’t tell you what her plans were.
“No man,” laughs Denise. “I don’t know what their plans are.” It’s good to see the little brat come out of her. “But if they’re good we might let them watch.”
“Brat,” you laugh playfully, taking the sting out of your words as you stroke her cheek. “That’s how I want to see you.”
“That’s how you’ll see me more too.” She sticks her tongue out at you. “I may be your dear, sweet, nice kitty,” she punctuates each word with gentle motions against your chest “but I’m also a full bitch if you let me.” With that, she pinches your chest and you actually flinch. Even through your shirt that had hurt.
“Shit Denise” you exclaim startled as your friend in the passenger seat tightens her legs and puts her hands in front of her mouth, giggling wildly.
“Sorry,” she laughs, making you smile too. “I’m just a cat.” You roll your eyes playfully.
“I miss Emma,” you groan, winking as you do so. “She’s always nice.” Denise sits back down properly as you start the engine and reverse out of the side street.
“That’s what I wanted to ask you anyway,” says your girl next to you. “What is it with her and her obedience to you, anyway? I mean, I understand that about me. But Emma hasn’t experienced what I have… or has she?” You shake your head and settle into the traffic.
“No.” Then you grin as you think of Emma and her cute face. Shit I’m looking forward to tonight. “Emma is actually pretty normal.”
“What, am I a freak?” shrieks Denise, chuckling.
“That’s what you’re into you little brat.” Denise agrees. “Emma is actually very shy. Where you’ve been hiding behind wild behavior she’s been quiet. I have to say, I thought there was more to her than that, but…”
“But with Emma you always have to be ready for surprises?” Denise finishes your sentence but you shake your head.
“No. With Emma, you always know where you stand. That’s what I like about her. Granted, the submissive side of her was new to me, and Megan and I didn’t really give her a chance the first time we met either.” You contort your face painfully. Too quickly, too suddenly. “She really saved my ass when she said she liked it. Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to look at myself in the mirror anymore. No. Emma is not as boring or superficial as some people think. She’s deep, quiet and damn interesting. I think she lets me lead her because she knows I enjoy it. She needs it too I think. But not in the way she thinks. Sometimes she thinks she’s weak but she has a strength in her that I deeply admire.” Beside you, Denise listens intently. “She may be shy, but she still always does the right thing. She overcomes herself for me, that’s really strong. She knows where her weaknesses are and takes care of them. She doesn’t run away when there is something to do. Emma makes my life really easy and I don’t think she knows that either. To her, I’m the big bad wolf she can idolize, or maybe more of a shark to admire. We men like that. Even with you.” You look over at the girl next to you. “The confidence. But also the idea of fear that surrounds us and that you permeate and turn into something better.”
“I don’t understand that,” Denise confesses.
“It was the same with you,” you think, “Go ahead and admit it. First I was the dangerous giant who controlled you against your will and only afterwards, after Josh and the revelation at the lake, you realized that big giants can protect you too.” Now Denise understands. “And it’s the same with Emma, but also the other way around. My elf gives me the strength to take care of all of you. Peace, quiet and the security that there is someone who knows his place very well. And since my place is at her side, I know my place as well.”
“So why do you want her to go to Carrie?” Denise is really smart and you enjoy talking to her.
“Because I trust her. Carrie is her best friend and I don’t want those two to be driven apart because of me. Besides, Carrie knows about our world and I want her to be okay.”
“But her and Emma… I thought…” Denise isn’t sure.
“Yeah, you thought right.”
“And yet…”
“Emma loves me Denise. Just like you do and everyone else does. I’m not saying I deserve that love, but I know Emma and I know what’s going on inside her. She likes Carrie but that’s exactly why I trust them both. Carrie won’t want to hurt Emma and Emma deserves to have friends besides of me.” That’s enough and Denise and you’re satisfied with your statement. There’s that little quiet voice in the back of your head, your drill sergeant hears it too, warning you that you’re sending your friend to a girl which loves her. You saw it in the conversation on the bench by the lake when Carrie was so angry with you. But it’s love and she feels about Emma what you feel. With those thoughts, you turn onto the expressway home and wonder about the feeling in your head. You fumble in your pants pocket for your house keys, but find them. You haven’t forgotten anything.
Once home, you and Denise greet the other girls. Your parents are there, so hugs and pats on the side will have to suffice. Your mother comes right up to Denise and asks her matter-of-factly but insistently about her conversation. Your kitten is a little embarrassed but she tells enough about her experiences to make your mom feel good.
“And Finn is taking good care of you?” she then asks, which sets Megan off.
“What’s that question about?” she wants to know from her mother as she climbs down from the back of the horse (you) she’s been riding. You and your siblings see an expression on her face that you have rarely seen before. Denise, who doesn’t know your mother yet, just nods and looks at you.
“You must be tired,” your mother says to your kitty, ignoring Megan, which makes your wombat angry. “Do you want to go lay down upstairs?” Denise, all your secret girlfriend, obviously looks at you and your mom follows her gaze. You nod gently and she goes upstairs, faster than usual. “I mean Finn is supposed to be taking care of his girlfriend,” your mother says gently but firmly as Denise disappears upstairs. Now the Lynchwood family is alone, in concern of your mother, Denise is not yet part of it, she also owns the naming rights, not just you. But even without that, a dangerous mood settles over the room you are all in. Megan now comes next to you and your shoulders touch.
“He’s going to Emma tonight, isn’t he?” says Millie, who has been standing next to you and Megan, laughing. Megan comes even closer to you.
“True. But would Emma like to see how much time Finn spends with other girls?” Megan raises her brows.
“We’re his sister’s mum,” she says defiantly in a tone not heard in this house for a long time. You’re just glad Maureen isn’t here, otherwise, she’d surely stand up to her mother for Megan and that would be cute but not helpful to the situation.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Then your mom turns to you. “Finn honey, you have a girlfriend now who I’m sure doesn’t like you spending so much time with other girls.”
“B-But he’s helping us,” Millie says meekly, not daring to contradict your mother. “Denise feels better because of him.”
“That’s what doctors are for honey.” And actually, she’s right, even if you think you’ve found another way. “Finn is just a boy, and he’s been good for all of you. I can see that.” She looks at her youngest daughter who now stands at your side as well. “And Maureen, too. But isn’t it about time you got some friends of your own?” Your mother is experienced and sounds forgiving. She doesn’t want a fight but only the best for her daughters. But Megan doesn’t understand, not after you made her so happy on the playground.
“What are you saying, mum?” Her voice is icy and she grabs your hand. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what makes your mom win. All she has to do is lower her eyes and Megan understands.
“He’s my brother,” she says icily, speaking the truth of her life.
“That’s right,” says your mother, summing up all the problems that are yet to come in your life together.
Actually, you should not be surprised. Your stepmother is a very intelligent person and you and your friends are not particularly good at hiding something as big as a nine-headed harem. The official relationship with Emma was one of the best moments of your life but you also made a statement with it. Your mother wants only the best for her daughters and of course that includes a boyfriend, a relationship and a life outside the family. Sometimes you want the housewife who stands at the stove and is satisfied with everything that men say but if your mother was such a woman then you would never have met your sisters and their friends. Your father is not into such women and neither are you. So it was really only a matter of time and anyway, everyone has seen how close you are with Megan, Millie and now Maureen. Still, your wombat’s hand closes tighter around yours. She’s not thinking about letting go, clinging to you and her newfound life and it’s touching you. Your fingers close around the hands of Megan as well, and your mother sees it. It’s red hot and you don’t know if you have the wisdom to negotiate with the woman who has known you all your life.
“Mum…” you begin your difficult task anyway. “I want the best for my sister, too.” That’s no lie. “And I really love Emma a lot.” That’s not a lie either. “And believe me, no one else wants more than me for the three of them to find a boyfriend for themselves who will make them happy. Someone official, not me.” That’s a lie. A bold one. Megan next to you and Millie too understand it. But your mother sees through you.
“I know what it can be like with pretty girls around you. Denise is already showing signs and I think Finn knows what I’m talking about…”
“What’s all this about mum?” asks Millie, actually sounding upset. You have no chance. Not with an enemy (and that your mother is right now) so strong and intelligent. You must speak this horrible lie for the sake of your girls. But still it hurts. Even more so as your princes eyes you every second.
“Your mother is right” you explain to her, lying as much as you ever have in your life. Your stomach turns but your mom isn’t some guy in a hotel or in a town where no one knows you. You have to say that now because anything else would give you all away. “We all had a good time but your mother is right. I’m no substitute for a real boyfriend. We are brothers and sisters. It’s not proper.” Your stomach turns and your wombat’s face stiffens in a way that hurts you. Millie doesn’t understand the world anymore. Why are you suddenly on their mothers side?
“But we’re just step-siblings she says,” shaking her head. Your mother’s eyes rest only on you.
“It doesn’t make any difference. I’ve told you many times that I can help you.” You can’t take it anymore, turn to Millie and wrap her limp body in your arms. “But I’m not your boyfriend Millie. I’m just your brother.” This is the most disgusting thing you’ve done to her in your life and you force the words out of you so fast before they can burn you. You swore to yourself you would never do something like that to Millie but what else are you going to do? Your mother has cornered you and must only hear this one answer. But that doesn’t help Millie who tears away from you, looks from you to Megan in disbelief and then just runs up the stairs. You look after her and bleed out inside. You’d love to throw some juicy words at your witch of a mother right now but you need to calm down. As you turn to face her, your face is as blank as the vast ocean. Your stepmother looks at you soberly as if to say ‘It’s better this way.’ But neither you nor anyone else sees it that way.
“Well great!” nags Megan who doesn’t have your capacity for self-destructive self-control. “It took us weeks to get her back up and you hack it all away in a minute.”
“Your brother is no substitute for a functioning relationship with a young man Megan” says the woman of the house. Then she turns iron “Not for Millie or for you.” Now Megan realizes what is happening and looks at you. It’s a public display, an exposure of her feelings for you. Oh shit… fuck! But Megan is a strong girl, a headstrong girl. Without hesitation, she grabs you with her hands, yanks you around, and before you can react, she presses her lips firmly to yours.
Everything inside you screams and fights. You’ve kissed Megan enough times and you feel that she is desperate. Her lips tremble and she breathes quickly through her nose while her fingers dig into the fabric of your shirt. And your mother… says nothing. Eventually the kiss ends and Megan turns to the woman who gave birth to her, raised her, and taught her everything she knows.
“I still have the same grades, the same future, the same friends, the same family.” Megan is calm while you panic beside her. Your mother is also calm. You are the only one on fire. “Nothing has changed mum.”
“That’s what I mean,” your mother says calmly. You don’t know her like this and it scares you. Megan doesn’t seem to notice but you remember how upset she was when Millie wanted to try on sexy underwear. Does she know something? Why else would she react so calmly? Does she already know everything and just needs to act? What authority does she have? Fuck, we’re all over eighteen. She can kick us out of the house without warning. No, more like just me… which isn’t exactly better. Next to you, Megan understands her behavior much as you do.
“You’re just doing damage,” she says icily and turns to leave. You expect an outburst from your mother but it doesn’t come and that’s not good at all. Then you find yourself alone with your stepmother in the arena.
“I only want what’s best for you,” she says, fixing her eyes on you. She knows it. But how? Fuck we were too careless. I was too careless. What are you going to do now? What can you do? Your mother keeps watching you. If she is satisfied with the trap she has set for you, she doesn’t show it. You can only see the worry in her eyes. But what is she worried about? About the future of her daughters. “I want your best, too, Finn. You’re my son.” Fuck! It’s clear what she expects from you. You, on the other hand, are completely unprepared and it’s a disaster. Your mother has won a tactical and strategic victory, but she’s not doing anything about you. She is waiting for your reaction. What do I do now? What does she want from me? Your drill sergeant just looks at you. Don’t ask me.
Then a smile flits across your face. It almost happened. You almost slipped back into the past where you weren’t sure. That won’t happen to you again. Too much has happened for you to allow the emotions you feel to cause harm instead of good. You have come so far and there is no doubt that your life has changed for the better. What should you do? It’s very simple. You do what is best for your girls. You do what they want you to do. Whether it’s Denise or Millie or all the girls in between. All of them have made it very clear what they want. And you want that, too. Is it the right thing? For your girls? You don’t know. But you know how they will feel, not just in the short term, for the rest of their lives, if you break down now. You know that Denise relies on you, that Millie has built her life on you, that Susan and Claire need you for support, that Maureen is laughing again because of you, that Karen is getting better because she has hope, that Megan has found meaning in you, and that Emma has the security to do whatever she wants. It’s not about them being sad for a moment and then getting over it. It’s about eight lives that have entrusted themselves to you. And yes, it’s about your life too. What should you do? There is only one thing you can do and you do it.
“I’m going to my sisters now,” you tell your mother and turn away from her. It’s an admission, something you had to do at some point. And you feel good about it.
“Finn…” There it is again, the concern in her voice, the understandable uncertainty, and the realization that something has happened that can’t be reversed. You like your mother. You really do love her. But you love eight other people, and that’s more important than your mother, your father, society, consequences, or you.
You find Denise in your room on the bed, legs pulled up to her chest, deep in thought.
“What was that?” she asks as soon as you enter the room. You don’t know how much she overheard but she certainly seems very tired. Talking about her shitty past must have been exhausting for her, and as you settle down next to her on the bed, she quickly snuggles up to you.
“Turns out love is unstoppable,” you say and kiss her on the forehead. “Mom’s right about some things,” you admit, “but wrong about others.”
“Am I dangerous to you and your sisters?” wants Denise to know. Apparently she’s put enough together so that the morning’s successes are already not so shiny by lunchtime. You shake your head vigorously.
“You are not a danger Denise. You are exactly what I wished for. And you are an asset to me and the other girls.” That seems to work.
“I heard Megan bitching…and Millie crying.” You guessed it.
“Do you want to come?” you ask but Denise shakes her head. “Maybe later. Take care of your sisters. We all agreed to that.” You have to grin.
“Just don’t be surprised when you come to us,” you say and Denise seems to understand. “We are not like other siblings.”
“Good thing.” You wink at each other and Denise disappears under the covers that smell like you. You pull the door closed behind you and then stand outside the room.
What you find here is worse than in your room. Again, Millie and Megan are sitting on the bed, the younger leaning against the older. Maureen is standing in the room, apparently about to do something to stop the flood of tears streaming down the face of Millie.
“Finn!” she exclaims when she notices you. “Thank God you’re here. What happened?” Megan probably hasn’t had time to explain it to her yet. Maureen comes running toward you while Megan holds her youngest sister in her arms. Then her eyes turn to you.
“That stupid cow! Look at what she’s done!” Indeed, tears roll down your princess’s face and it hurts to see her as it has always hurt. Only this time you share the responsibility. This can’t happen and you have to put your soul on the line for this outrage. You would like to sit down next to Millie and also sink into mourning, but that can’t happen either. Your life has clear and simple rules. You are Finn Lynchwood and you protect your sisters. Ignoring Megan, you close the door behind your back and motion Maureen to step aside. The girl makes room for you as you walk with divine purpose across the room to a CD player sitting on the table where your wombat likes to study. “What are we going to do?” she asks excitedly as you put on some music and turn to face the sisters. There is only one right thing to do now that your mother knows… Well, she might strongly suspect something but knowing… But be it as it is. Megan was right and there is just one thing for you to do to make things better instead of worth.
“Take off your clothes,” you say with holy determination. This catches the sisters off guard. Maureen has no idea what’s going on and Millie and Megan still have your necessary but wrong words in their heads. Of course they believe you, they’ve done nothing else all their lives. It’s not that you lied very well, but it was your voice and you are listened to. You walk back across the room as three pairs of wide eyes follow you. “What?” asks Maureen as you lock yourself in the room, isolating you from the outside world. You turn around to face the girls and slip your shirt over your head, exposing your stomach. Your pants are already hanging askew around your hips and Megan is the first to understand. With flying fingers she pulls up her shirt while you are already fiddling with your belt. Her face beams with realization.
“BB what’s wrong?” wants to know Millie who is still too shocked to understand.
“Take your clothes off honey” Megan says and smiles again. Then Maureen shrugs and Millie follows her big sisters without knowing exactly what is going on.
“But mum said…” You’re already in your underwear, watching Millie struggle with her t-shirt as she tries to process the events happening around her. You slide smoothly next to her, grasping her warm hips with your strong hands, feeling the fabric of her plain bra against your fingers and helping her undress. While Maureen behind you throws her clothes on the same pile as Megan, who seems to be on fire, you bend over your princess who is laying in bra and panties under you. “BB…mum said…oh…” You kiss the thin fabric covering her breasts. “Siblings shouldn’t… you’ll get in trouble if…” You just love this little creature. You just have to.
“You are my princess Millie. My little big love.” That alone makes her moan. “You’re my girlfriend.” You look at the other girls. Megan is already naked and grinning wildly as she waits for her cue like a marathon runner on all fours, her butt thrust up a bit. Maureen stands on one leg and takes off her panties, her snatch already wet while her bra has slipped off her shoulders and hangs in the crooks of her elbows. She waits on one leg for you to say. “All of you are. You’re all my girlfriends.”
“BB… Finn…” Millie stretches her arms out to you and her tears are forgotten. You grin.
“And I want to fuck my three girlfriends now.” Below you, your princess wraps her arms around you and pulls herself up against you like a cute happy sloth while her legs wrap around your body as well.
“Yes, please… My boyfriend.”
Writing Shark 