Dark Fantasies

by T West

  “Sure, honey. Hang in there. Tommy’s an idiot.”

  “So is Steve, mom.”

  “Yeah. We’re a pair.” She could hear the smile through the phone.

  “Love you, mom.”

  “You too.”

  Jessica laid the phone down and loaded up the washing machine. Soap added, she cranked the dial to heavy wash and started back toward the living room when she heard a noise, like a ‘Fssssssshhhhhh’ behind her. She turned and saw a growing pool of water from under the washing machine. Quickly, she ran back and turned the water cutoffs, then opened the lid. All the clothes were soaked, still slimed with detergent and weighing a ton. “Fuck!” she yelled, and kicked the side of the machine with one sneakered foot.

  She started to pull the clothes out of the wash. They weighed a ton, heavy from waterlog. She dropped the pile back into the machine with a gloop and went to the bathroom to rinse the slick soapy film from her hands. She hit redial on the most recent number in her phone. “Mom?” she said when the line connected.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, stupid damn washing machine just started leaking all over the floor. It’s coming out from underneath, looks like I didn’t housebreak it or something.”

  “You did the cutoffs?”

  “No Mom, I’m watching it flood the house. Is that bad?” Jessica waited a beat. “Of course I did the cutoffs. I know that part, at least. What do I do with these clothes, though? I don’t want to start pulling them out of the machine with no plan.”

  “Put them in a plastic garbage bag and use the machine at the house. Steve’s there, maybe he can follow you back to your place once you get that load in and see what’s wrong with yours. You will need to finish the wash on those, though. Dried soap is itchy.”

  “Okay, Mom, thanks.” Jessica hung up the phone and sat it down on the dryer, then went and got a black plastic garbage bag. She filled it with the wet clothes and had to drag the clammy, plastic lump to the door and out to the car. It was a miracle it didn’t tear on the way to the car. Getting it in the trunk was nearly impossible. For a moment, she thought she’d thrown out her back trying to hurl it up into the car. Finally, she got it in, and stood a moment sweating from the exertion.

  Jessica’s Mom’s house was a decent sized suburban tract home, similar to all the others in the neighborhood but distinctly not the same color as any house within four on either side. Builder-planned individuality in a cookie-cutter neighborhood. Not that Jessica’s apartment was in any way unique, but she enjoyed the novel difference from the life she grew up with. She parked in the driveway and gave a cursory knock on the door before opening it with her key. “Steve?” she yelled. “It’s Jess. Get decent!” She stepped into the house. Steve was getting up from the living room couch hastily, his hand still touching the laptop he’d just closed. Jessica smiled, thinking she’d caught him with his pants down, literally.

  “Hey, Jess. What’cha know?” Steve really was an okay guy, personality-wise. You could have a great time making bullshit conversation with him about a variety of subjects, just as long as those subjects weren’t about chores left undone, or the money he owed you.

  “My washing machine died. Pissing water all over the floor. I turned it all off, but I’m stuck with a load of soaked, soapy clothes. Mom said I could use the one here to finish it out.”

  “Sure, that’s fine.”

  Jessica grimaced a little, annoyed at Steve’s habit of giving permission for stuff that wasn’t in any way his call.

  “Listen, Steve...” Jessica put on her most cajoling voice. “I about popped a blood vessel trying to get that bag of wet stuff into the Jeep. Any way you could lug it in for me?” Steve looked at her a moment as if flipping through a mental file of potential excuses before giving up in the face of a pouty-lipped 19 year old. He shrugged and headed out the door. Jess pushed the clicker on her keyring and popped the trunk remotely. While Steve was outside fighting with the bag of clothes, Jessica sat on the couch and opened the laptop. Logged out but still onscreen was the window for an online poker site. No game was going currently, but Jessica couldn’t help but notice all the ‘join game’ buttons were ghosted out and unavailable, and the ‘credited dollars’ amount in the upper corner of the screen was red and in parenthesis. It didn’t take an accountant to see that Steve had lost some serious green. She was clicking into the account page for more details when he came back in the front door, banging around as he dragged the bag.

  “Jesus, you weren’t kidding! You...” He said, then turned to see her in the living room. His voice died before he could start his next statement. Jessica looked up. All the blood was gone out of Steve’s face and he dropped the neck of the garbage bag. “Listen, Jess, I can explain.”

  “Explain what? You’re a shitty poker player. Like, extremely shitty. It’s not like it’s hard to understand. You suck at this.” She glared at him and his eyes dropped to the floor. She’d never seen Steve completely cowed before, and was surprised that she liked it. She shifted her hips on the couch and her inner muscles clenched, pleasurably. “Does Mom know about this?”

  “God no. Please, you can’t tell her.”

  Jessica closed the laptop and stood.

  “I can’t? And why not? Why the fuck...” She was on a roll now. There was a chance she was yelling at more men than just Steve, but he was the one at fault in front of her and so he caught the brunt of her day’s disappointments. “Why the fuck would I show you more loyalty than my mom?”

  “It’s all in my name. I swear, I’m not trying to saddle her with any of this. I can get out of the hole, I just have to get back enough to get credited in...”

  “Listen to yourself. You can’t dig your way out of a hole. Christ.” Jessica crossed over to where Steve stood rooted to the carpet, just inside the living room. The bag of clothes still sat in the tile foyer. She stood in front of him and he finally met her eyes again. She was a foot shorter than him, but the dynamic was almost like a drill sergeant to a recruit. “You married my mom, and we’re in a shared property state, dipshit. That means that no matter how good your intentions, you’ve put her on the hook for half that debt.” She let the reality of that statement sink in for him. “You understand? She’s now fucked. Her credit is fucked. You did that. God, you are a stupid, stupid twat. What does she see in you?”

  “I’m so sorry, Jessica. Please, I’ll fix it. Don’t tell. Please. I do love your mom. I’m such a fuck up, though. I’ll... I’ll get out of her life.” The dejection and sadness in his voice was pathetic. She could hear him walking himself to a mental place where he could just give up, and she cut him off.

  “You’re goddamn right you’ll fix it.” Her cutoff shorts were skimpy enough that the pockets showed out the bottoms. Tommy had loved them, constantly handsy whenever she had them on. She assumed they probably had the same effect on skeevy losers like Steve. She turned and put a hand on her hip, musing. She could feel his eyes involuntarily drop to her ass and she smiled cruelly, facing away from him. “You’re going to pay back every dime of that money to that site, and whatever you need to do to keep it off collections. You’re going to do it without letting mom know anything about this.”

  “And if I do that, you won’t tell her either?”

  “No. If you do that, I won’t tell.” She was shocked at how much she enjoyed having a man under her thumb. She wished it was Tommy, but Steve was a decent second. She smiled with an idea. “As for what will keep me from talking... I’ll let you know the toll on that. For now, go sit down on the couch and don’t you dare open that fucking laptop. I’m going to start my laundry and think about this. You wait here.” She started to drag the heavy sack down the hall to the washing machine. “I swear to god, if you so much as move off that couch...” She headed down the hall, leaving the punishment to his imagination.

  Once Jessica was around the hallway corner and into the laundry room, she let loose with giggles. Her hand went to her mouth to keep the sound low and s
he had to stop dragging the bag a moment. She couldn’t believe how good she felt taking out all that frustration yelling at Steve. She let her other hand find her crotch. The giggles subsided, gave way to a slower wave of pleasure as her hand popped the button on her shorts and found her sex. She was already wet. Her fingers were in her mouth and she bit down lightly as she pressed her other hand into her labia, the heel of her palm against her pelvic bone. Her middle finger slid easily inside and she shut her eyes, riding the crest of each slip and flick. Taking her hand out, she looked at the slick glisten of her fingers. She touched her hand with her tongue, then licked up the digit. The taste was something she’d grown to like, but from the first time she did it the dirty shiver from something as naughty as licking her own juices had set off fireworks in her panties. She wondered just how wet she’d be after real sex, what it would look like, how it would taste. Tommy, she thought, you are the dumbest boy in the world.

  She puckered her lips around her finger and sucked her dew from her skin, then dragged the bag the rest of the way to the laundry room and loaded the soap-wet laundry into the machine. She turned the machine on, figuring the already applied detergent was enough for the job, and headed back down the hall to make sure Steve was still being a good boy.

  “Steve?” She sing-songed his name from around the corner as she entered the room. He was still sitting exactly where she’d left him. He was actually sitting on his hands, and she smiled at his schoolboy look. His tacky, constantly-worn gym shorts, one among so many reasons he was a loser, betrayed an obvious stiffy. Jessica narrowed her eyes at him from across the living room. She looked at the clock. Should I? She thought. Would my mom understand? She thought about the financial damage Steve had done, and his cowering threat to run from responsibility. Then she looked at his hard on, and the eager way he seemed to want her to do something. Something maybe he couldn’t ask for. Well, she thought, if coercing Steve gets mom loose from him, why can’t it also satisfy my needs?

  She picked up the laptop and moved it over next to her purse as she addressed him. “I’ll take that with me. You won’t need it. You’ll give me cash, a little every day, and I’ll make sure it gets to your account. Wouldn’t want you being able to just surf around the web. Obviously, you’re a very... bad... boy.” She turned toward him and sat on the couch, so close on the cushion that his leg touched hers. Their combined weight sloped them into each other, and she leaned in closer. His breathing got short and quick. She whispered into his ear, “My mom cheats on you, Steve. Did you know that?”

  “N...no.”

  Of course he doesn’t, she thought, since I have no idea whether mom has ever ‘stepped out’. “Well, she has. She did it after she found out that you cheated.” Steve turned toward her, almost bringing their lips together. It was cute watching him try to have personal space, leaning away without feeling allowed to really change his seating position. Jessica felt herself getting wet again at the power she wielded.

  “She... she knows?”

  Jessica tried to conceal her shock. She wondered if mom suspected he’d fucked around.

  “She will now, you dumb fuck. Anything else you want to confess?” She went for it, dropping her hand to his still-raging hard-on. He jumped at her touch. “Do you ever think about me, for instance?” For just a moment, she wondered if it was possible to give a reasonably healthy adult man a heart attack purely through arousal. Steve began to sputter. She thought he was about to cry, trapped here in his crashed-down world by his sexually vicious step-daughter.

  “Shhh.... shhhh.” She reassured him and slowly moved her hand around on his dick. “My boyfriend just broke up with me, Steve. Well, not really broke-up, because boys are chicken-shit little creatures. I think you’d agree, right?” She tightened her grip on his manhood and he nodded quickly. “Right. So it’s really his loss, I know. I mean, really his loss. You see, Steve, I may not have had full on sex just yet...” Steve’s dick twitched in her hand at the news that she was a virgin, and for a moment she thought he might cum right there in his shorts. “I may be a virgin, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t put some thought into it. There’s a lot I want to try.” She undid her button again, one hand on Steve through his shorts and one hand inside her own. She pulled her hand back out and put her finger into Steve’s mouth, tightening her grip on his cock to what she assumed was a painful but cum-restrictive degree. “Mmmm... good Steve. Yesss... I thought about it, and I think it’s unfair that I have to go find some new idiot my age, get to a point of trust, hope he’ll do the things I’ve fantasized about, when I know he’ll just be another dopey college boy who’ll run at the first sign of an easier lay.” She rubbed lazily on her sex as she spoke. Steve’s eyes were transfixed on his fabric-hid dick and her manicured hand. “So why not just take a man I know is already an idiot? At least I know I can trust you, kind of. You burn me, refuse me, or even just piss me off, Steve, and I’ll destroy your life. Okay?” There was a chirp in her voice that was terrifying in the way only young, attractive girls can be to older men. He nodded, pathetic in his submission to her. “Good.” She released her death-grip from his dick and he audibly sighed. “Now strip for me.”

  He looked at her for the briefest of moments in disbelief, then remembered her threats and jumped to his feet. He nervously stepped away from the couch and began a slow and awful herky-jerky approximation of a strip-tease. “Oh god, stop it.” He froze, mid hip-thrust, his shorts around his ankles. His dick jutted forward, revealed like some absurd divining rod. “Just get naked and stand with your arms to your side. How long does that thing stay hard?” Steve removed the rest of his clothes and shrugged. Pre-cum leaked freely from the tip, a thin drool-string was heading toward the floor on a geologic timescale. Jessica cupped her hand under it and scooped up the drop, then licked her hand. It was different than her own taste, she noted. She said so to Steve, then wiped a little from his dickhead onto her finger and put it to his lips. Wincing, he stood rigid as she wiped it on his lips. “Oh, sit down then, you baby. It’s just your own cum. You’ve never been curious?” She could see the answer was no, but watching him squirm was too delicious. He sat down next to her on the couch. Thank goodness for leather, she thought as his bare ass hit the nonporous seating. She stood up and shimmied her jean shorts down to the ground. Stepping out of them with one foot, she spread her legs and stood powerfully before Steve, who was again sitting on his hands. She cocked her head to the side. “You like being submissive a little, don’t you Steve?” He blushed a yes. “Does my mom... no, on second thought, don’t answer that.” She removed her panties and straddled him with her knees on either side. One hand clutched the soaked cloth of her underwear and the other guided his slick cock to her pussylips. Steve started to make a weak protest but Jessica closed her eyes, sitting down onto his cock and feeling each inch of his warm flesh against the inside of her pussy. She was glad she was so wet. She’d felt Tommy through his jeans enough to know Steve was a big boy. She carefully paced her rise and fall on his shaft, exploring the different sensations, the parts he could touch and the parts he couldn’t. She was already planning her next time, with someone different, when he broke her rhythmic reverie.

  “I’m... going to... cum... protection...” Steve managed to say.

  “Shhhh...” she replied, stuffing the panties into his mouth and falling down onto his dick harder, rocking her hips forward and back as she did so. Quickly, she found her spot and began chasing her own orgasm.

  He spit out the panties and they fell into their churning, joined hips below. Jessica didn’t notice. “No, but... I’m... cumming... what if you get... pregnant...” She flailed a hand at him, quick anger rising at the distraction of his whining voice during her moment.

  Her hand found his neck and she put her fingers around him.

  “Shut. Up.” She moaned, and kicked her hips at an angle again. Steve came.

  His body froze and Jessica knew that must be the moment for him. Her pleasure had been a til
ting rollercoaster, peaks and valleys of ongoing orgasm while they fucked, but now she felt each spurt of warmth flooding into her for the first time. By the third or fourth stroke after his freeze, she could hear the slop of their juices as their skin hit together. She put her hand down there and raised off him. Steve laid back against the seat of the couch, worn and spent. Cum flowed out of Jessica’s pussy and into her cupped hand, she ran a finger up the trench of her lips, the stickiness dragging trails across her skin. So much more dirty than just playing with myself, she thought. She tentatively put her hand to her lips and licked the icing from her palm and fingers. Steve’s eyes were fixed on her, and he involuntarily touched himself again at the sight. She wiped his cum on her lips and kissed him on the cheek. “Better hope you’re sterile, my little Stevie. Otherwise, I really will fucking own you.” She laughed, a disturbing thing that shook Steve’s nerves even as it caused his dick to betray him with arousal. Jessica began to put her shorts back on.

  She stood at the front door and undid the lock. “Change my laundry to the dryer when it’s done, would you? Then you can bring it over, maybe take a look at my washer.” She smiled. Steve was a pale and sweaty thing, naked in the living room. “It gets everything all wet. I think I’ll need your tool again, if we’re going to do another load.” She grinned at her puns, and pointed at the panties on the couch beside him. “Hand wash those and bring them with.” And with that, she bounced out the front door.

  A few minutes later, the washing machine buzzer sounded. Startled, Steve began frantically gathering up the living room. He caught sight of himself in the hallway mirror, disheveled. His wife would be home any minute, and all he could think of was not disappointing her holy terror of a daughter. He could still smell her sex on him and started the shower running. It had been the worst day of his adult life, easily.