Chapter 22
Not long after my orgasm in my brother's mouth, my dad decided to wander around the house and start a nighttime cleaning spree. One of those impulsive cleanups he did in the middle of the night, broom sweeping the floor, the smell of disinfectant invading the hallway. We froze right then. My brother lifted his face from between my legs, his mouth still shiny, eyes wide. I just gave a quick nod, and he got it. He stood up slowly, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, gave me a short kiss on the forehead—one of those that wasn't exactly brotherly—and slipped out to his room in silence, tiptoeing, before any louder moan could give us away.
I hadn't given myself to my brother yet. I mean, full-on penetration. The reason was silly, confusing, and hard to explain even to myself. It wasn't exactly fear of losing my virginity—that had gone a long time ago with the perfume bottle. It was something else. A stupid barrier my head cooked up. Maybe because, deep down, I still wanted to keep some part of me untouched, something that hadn't been tainted by the guilt that always hit afterward. Because when it was over, the guilt slammed in hard. It always did. My mom's voice echoed in my head: "mortal sin," "slut," "God is watching." I felt dirty, wrong, small. My body felt light for a few minutes, but my mind turned into dead weight. I'd cry alone in the bathroom or stare at the ceiling until sleep came. For a long time, sex between us was just oral. Mouth on mouth, mouth on pussy, mouth on cock.
And it was enough, good, and safer.
That night I didn't even masturbate. After he left, I lay there, legs still spread, body limp, his scent mixed with mine on my skin. I passed out happy. A heavy sleep, dreamless, the kind that swallows the whole night without a trace. When I woke up, it was the end of the early morning. I heard the familiar noises: my dad dragging his suitcase down the hallway, the zipper of his jacket, the jingle of keys. He was traveling again. A few days away. That meant we'd be shipped off to my mom's house—they didn't like leaving us alone for too long. But she was on shift. She doubled up, slept at the hospital, came back just to change clothes and head out again. In practice, we were alone anyway. Just in her house, with stricter rules, the cross on the living room wall, and the rosary hanging from the headboard.
I heard the click of the front door closing. The silence that followed was heavy, almost tangible. My heart raced right away. I woke up full of energy, like my body knew before my head: dad gone, mom on shift, house empty. And in the room next door was a guy who sucked damn good. And he wanted a whole lot more of that action.
I got up slowly, my body still heavy and warm from what had happened earlier, and slipped down the hallway like a cat stalking prey. Tiptoeing, no noise. I went to the living room, locked the deadbolt from inside—just in case dad came back suddenly for some forgotten thing—and headed straight to Jonathan's room. The door was just ajar, lucky for me. The sun was starting to lighten outside, pink light sneaking through the curtain gap, but he was sleeping hard, on his back, mouth half-open, sheets tangled at his waist, like the world didn't exist and school was just a distant suggestion.
"Today someone's going to school after fucking...," I thought, and let out a low, husky laugh that barely escaped. The idea gave me a delicious shiver.
I approached slowly, knelt on the floor beside the bed without shaking the mattress. He didn't even stir. His cock was soft, resting under silk boxers, warm skin, the smell of sleep and man mixed together. I liked that—the raw intimacy, no rush, no need to ask permission.
I leaned in, rested my arms on the edge of the bed, pulled it out slowly, and started easy. First just my hot breath brushing the head, then my tongue slipping out to lick lightly, just the tip, tasting the salty flavor of skin waking up. I sucked it soft, no pressure, just wrapping my lips around the head, letting my warm, wet mouth hug it all. He was still asleep, but his cock started responding on its own: it swelled slowly in my mouth, hardening inch by inch, skin stretching, veins popping. I kept the same slow rhythm, sucking gently, tongue lazily circling the glans, feeling it grow, throb, get heavier on my tongue.
That's when he woke up.
A low groan escaped him, rough from sleep. His eyes opened slowly, confused, then focused on me: me on my knees on the floor, mouth full of him, looking up with heavy-lidded eyes. His eyes went wide, his whole body tensed, but he didn't pull away. He just stared, breath quickening.
Then I switched it up.
I opened my mouth wider, swallowed it all at once. Deep. No stopping. His now-hard cock hit the roof of my mouth, then my throat. I pushed, shoving my head forward, feeling the stretch, the gag coming but I wouldn't let it out. Tears filled my eyes right away, mascara smearing again, but I didn't stop. I bobbed up and down fast, hard, ruthless blowjob, throat opening to take him whole. Every time I swallowed it all, my nose hit his groin, the strong musky scent of man choking me and making me wetter between my legs. I barely used my hands—just my mouth, just my throat, pushing limits, testing how far I could go without puking, without stopping.
He groaned loud, his hand going to my hair, holding the ponytail without pulling, just following the motion. "Fuck, Nicole...," it came out rough, voice shaking. He was impressed. Eyes glazed, mouth half-open, thighs tense. I could see him fighting not to cum quick, muscles clenched, breaths short.
I sped up more. Sucked hard, tongue pressing under the head every time I came up, throat squeezing when I took it all. Saliva dripped from the corners of my mouth, splashed on the sheets, soaked my chin. I didn't stop. I wanted him to feel like I was in charge, that I set the pace, that I could handle it all.
It came fast.
His cock swelled in my mouth, throbbed hard against my tongue. He tried to warn me, "I'm gonna...," but didn't finish. He came down my throat, hot jets, thick, straight to the back. I didn't pull back. Swallowed it all, feeling the sticky liquid slide down, salty, bitter, creamy, filling my mouth and throat. Pulse after pulse, his cock throbbing against the roof of my mouth, me sucking slow now, milking every drop, cleaning the head with my tongue until he shook all over and softened a bit in my mouth.
I pulled off slowly, with a wet pop, licked my swollen lips, looked at him. He was panting, eyes dark, face red, staring at me like I was someone else. Impressed. Scared. Turned on.
I smiled lightly, mouth still shiny, voice husky:
"Good morning."
He laughed low, out of breath, hand still in my hair.
"If I tell anyone at school a girl woke me up with a blowjob, no one's gonna believe it."