Phoenix Rising

by Anais Ninja

  “David, I’m sorry that I...,” I began to say. Then I saw him, sitting on his bed, his shorts down around his ankles, stroking his hard boycock. He looked up at me, his eyes wide with surprise.

  “Annie!” he cried out. I started to laugh; this was just too funny. First he’d barged in on me and seen me naked, now I was walking in on him while he jerked off. I closed the bathroom door behind me and sat next to him on his bed.

  “Let me do that for you,” I whispered, putting one arm around his shoulders and reaching into his lap with my other hand, gently stroking his cock. He’d started to wilt when I startled him, but soon he was hard again. David had a pretty big cock for a twelve-year-old boy, and I wondered how big he’d be when he grew up.

  “Annie...,” he gasped, enjoying the soft touch of my fingers on his smooth shaft. I kissed his cheek and he turned his head, pressing his lips against mine. It must have been his first real kiss, and he wasn’t sure what to do with his tongue, but soon he had the right idea.

  “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” I whispered, breaking off our kiss. “You were just trying help.”

  “I thought you fell,” he said again. “I’m sorry I walked in on you.”

  “I know, baby,” I cooed. “That was sweet of you.” I loosened the towel and let it fall from my body, reaching for his hand and cupping it around one of my breasts. He squeezed me gently as I continued stroking his hardness.

  “Lay back, Davy,” I whispered, gently pushing him back on the bed. I got down on the floor and kneeled between his legs, slowly leaning forward and kissing the tip of his boycock, making him gasp in surprise and pleasure. I parted my lips and took him into my mouth, slowly sinking my lips down his shaft as I bathed the underside of his cock with my tongue.

  David’s hips began to move, making the bed squeak quietly as I sucked him. I fondled his fuzzy balls and stroked his shaft with my fingertips, feeling his cock twitch and tense inside my mouth, dancing between my lips like a small animal. His penis began to twitch again, harder this time, and I could feel his thighs begin to tense. I heard him gasp again, and he began to come, a single jet of semen erupting from his glans. I swallowed his boycum, keeping him in my mouth until he began to soften, licking the last drops of sperm from his cock. He was smiling when I released him from my lips. I got up from between his legs and wrapped the towel around me, laying next to him on his bed and snuggling with him. He gently stroked my arm, and I felt goosebumps begin to emerge.

  “Is that your father?” I asked. There was a picture next to his bed, a framed photograph of his mother next to a black man in a baseball uniform, the word “PADRES” written on the front of his shirt.

  “Yes,” he said, looking a bit sad.

  “You miss him?”

  “I never met him,” David said. “He left before I was born.”

  “I’m sorry, baby,” I said, kissing his smooth face. Like Dana, he had some of his mother’s features, her eyes, her nose, but with his father’s full lips and angular face.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “Mom always said he was a dick.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said again, kissing him on the lips. “I’ve got to go get dressed. Thanks for coming to my rescue.”

  “Next time I’ll knock,” he laughed. I playfully poked him in the ribs and got up from the bed, walking through the bathroom, back to Dana’s room. She’d changed into a short sundress and was lying in bed, reading a book. I closed the door quietly, trying not to disturb her.

  “Hi, Annie,” she said, closing her book around a bookmark.

  “Hi, Dana,” I replied. “Don’t let me stop you, honey. I just need to grab my clothes and get dressed.”

  “It’s okay,” she said. “I was almost done, anyway.” She put the book aside and sat up in bed. I was going to just get my jeans and sweater and change in the bathroom, but I thought about it for a moment and decided that it was okay to get dressed in front of Dana. After all, she was my half-sister. I dropped the towel and reached into the bottom drawer of her dresser for my underwear, picking out a bra and panties, white lycra trimmed with pale pink lace. As I pulled the panties up my thighs, Dana reached for the bra, holding it against her flat chest and threading her arms through the straps. I laughed and sat down on the bed next to her, clasping the bra behind her back. She smiled and pressed the cups against the bodice of her dress.

  “You’ll have your own soon enough,” I said, unclasping the bra.

  “Titties?” she said, giggling and blushing.

  “Those, too,” I said. She handed me the bra and watched as I slipped it on, adjusting the cups against my breasts and reaching back to fasten the hook and eye clasps.

  “I’ll do that,” Dana said.

  “Thanks.” I told her which of the two rows of eyelets to snap the hooks into and straightened out one of the straps, which had twisted over my shoulder. Then I wriggled into my jeans and pulled my sweater on over my head. As Dana sat on the bed and watched me get dressed, I could see her unconsciously feeling her chest, checking to see if she’d started growing. I smiled, remembering how I’d done the same thing when I was her age, just five years ago. I gave her an affectionate kiss on the cheek and gathered the tennis clothes Mia had lent me. Dana smiled and went back to her book.

  The housekeeper, a young Hispanic woman in a light blue uniform, was in the laundry room, placing a load of t-shirts, underwear, and socks in the washer. I handed her the tennis skirt and the ruffled panties, and she smiled and nodded, adding them to the load. The sweater would have to be hand washed, so I put that aside. As I passed through the kitchen, I stopped to see what Mia had made for dinner, coq au vin, onion soup, and salad.

  “Smells wonderful,” I said.

  “Thank you,” Mia replied, taking a sip of wine. “Would you like a glass?”

  “Please.” Coq au vin was one of the dishes Julia used to make, and it was the basis of the safe word we had used when she tied me to her bed, “chicken”. I only had to say “chicken” and she would know that I had reached my limit. Mia poured me a glass of white wine, and I sat with her while she finished preparing dinner.

  “I wish you’d let me help you,” I said. There was something about having a woman seven months pregnant cooking for me that just didn’t sit right.

  “Nonsense,” she scoffed. “But if it is any consolation, Frank is going to hire a cook in a few weeks, so I will be off my feet for the last two months before the baby’s due.”

  “That’s great,” I said, reaching across the table for her hand. Mia was so sweet, and I was starting to wonder what she saw in my father. Sure, he was handsome, and he seemed to be doing pretty well selling real estate, but he had that dark side. I’d known that even when I was just a little girl.

  “Speak of the devil,” Mia said, hearing his key in the front door. My father came into the kitchen and kissed Mia, and then me.

  “Smells great,” he said, putting his briefcase down on the floor.

  “One of your favorites,” Mia said, getting up to stir something on the stove. “Be ready in an hour.” She poured my father a glass of wine.

  “Good. I’m going to take a shower first,” he said, giving her another kiss and leaving with the wineglass.

  “So you two made up?” I asked Mia. He’d slept on the couch in his den the night before, after the scene he’d made at the restaurant.

  “This morning,” Mia said, sitting down at the kitchen table again. “He said he was sorry. He told me he was thinking of seeing a counselor.”

  “That’s good,” I said. Maybe there was hope for him yet.

  Dinner was amazing, the coq au vin even better than Julia’s, and that was saying a lot. It was preceded by the salad, and the onion soup, served in crockery bowls, a layer of melted cheese encrusted over the top, a garlicky crouton floating beneath. We had another bottle of wine, and even David and Dana had some, just a half of a glass. Between courses, David reached under the table for my hand, giving it a quick squeeze. He’d been so s
hy when I first met him that this gesture caught me by surprise.

  After dinner we went out to see a movie, something my father’s family did almost every Friday night. “Clash of the Titans” was playing, and though it was sort of scary for Dana — she held my hand through the entire movie — David loved it. We went out for ice cream afterwards, and then back to the house. While Mia put the kids to bed, my father said he wanted to talk to me about something. I followed him into the living room and sat on the couch while he poured himself a scotch, and a glass of wine for me. He handed me the wineglass and sat next to me.

  “I think you already know what I’m going to ask you, Anne, right?” he asked me, laying his arm along the back of the couch and stroking my hair. I took a sip of my wine and closed my eyes.

  “Yes, Daddy.” His gentle touch felt nice, soothing me, relaxing me.

  “We’d really love for you to come live with us,” my father said. “And it’s not just me. Mia, too. She really likes you, Annie. And Dana looks up to you. Did you see the way she was looking at you during dinner? She’d love to have a big sister.”

  “I don’t know, Daddy,” I said. I really didn’t. Maybe if I hadn’t found my panties in his desk drawer, stiff with his semen, or those magazines. Maybe if he hadn’t jerked off in Dana’s room the night before. But those were also reasons to stay with him: I felt like I had to protect Dana from him, the way I’d tried to protect little Megan from Father Ken. But I’d failed to do even that. Megan had almost died in my arms, her blood on my hands. I’d gotten her to the hospital in time to save her life, but I wasn’t able to prevent the priest from hurting her. That was a burden I would carry for the rest of my life.

  “I know it’s an important decision. You don’t have to decide now,” my father said, taking another sip of his scotch. “I won’t try to persuade you any more. I’ve laid my cards on the table. It’s all up to you. But I want you to think about this, seriously. When you called me I was so happy I could burst. It was just like the day when Mia told me that she was expecting. I thought I’d lost you forever, and then you found me. It was the happiest day of my life.”

  “Oh, Daddy,” I whispered. His eyes were glistening, like he was about to cry, but I could tell he was trying hard to maintain control. I scooted over on the couch and snuggled next to him, and he put his arm around me, holding me close, kissing the top of my head, sniffling back his tears.

  “I love you, princess,” he said.

  “I love you, too, Daddy.”

  We sat there for a while, silently, quietly, and then he got up to refill his drink. I sipped the last of my wine, and as he sat back down on the couch with his scotch, I kissed him on the cheek.

  “I’m going to sleep, Daddy.”

  “Good night, Annie. Get a good night’s sleep. I want to show you around the city tomorrow.”

  “Good night, Daddy,” I said, going into the kitchen to put my glass in the dishwasher before heading off to Dana’s bedroom.

  I managed to find my chemise in the dark, taking it into the bathroom to change for bed, trying to make as little noise as possible. Dana was already asleep, and I didn’t want to wake her. After I changed, I climbed into the cot slowly, to keep it from creaking too loudly. Dana stirred in her bed, but didn’t wake from her slumbers. I laid my head on the pillow, tired, groggy from the wine I’d had, and fell asleep.

  * * *

  Her shrieking woke me up. For a split-second, I thought I was back in the shelter, and that it was Megan in the bed next to me instead of Dana. I bolted up from the cot and put my arms around her. She wasn’t crying, but she had a terrified look on her face, her lower lip quivering.

  “Just a nightmare, baby,” I whispered, stroking her long curly hair. “Just a nightmare.”

  “Annie...,” she whimpered.

  “Was it the movie?” I asked. She nodded and started to relax as she realized that it was just a picture, that Medusa wasn’t real. I started to let go of her, but she clung to me.

  “Can I sleep with you?” Dana asked.

  “The cot’s pretty small, sweetie,” I said, starting to get up from her bed.

  “Then stay with me,” she pleaded, tugging at my arm.

  “Okay,” I said. “Just for a while.” I slipped under the sheets and laid down next to her. Dana rolled over and snuggled against my side, her head resting on my shoulder, her leg between my thighs.

  “Good night, baby,” I whispered, kissing her button nose. Dana smiled and closed her eyes as I stroked her hair and caressed her back. I closed my eyes as well and started to drift off to sleep again.

  Except Dana didn’t seem to be sleepy just then. I’d stopped stroking her, not wanting to keep her awake, just resting my hand in the small of her back, and I felt her begin to move her bottom slightly, back and forth, grinding her cleft against my hip bone. She began to breathe heavier, a sharp intake of air, almost a gasp passing her lips. I turned my head and looked at her. Dana’s eyes were half open, and there was an unmistakable expression of hunger on her face.

  Dana hugged me tighter, and I wondered why she was being so bold with her desire. Was it the scary movie, the nightmare? Fright sometimes had that affect on me, especially when I was younger, watching monster movies on television with Del. I remember screaming during “The Creature From the Black Lagoon” and then screaming later, in Del’s bed, while I rode his hardness, my fear turning to sheer horniness.

  Or was Dana like me, our father’s daughters, sexually precocious, overly curious about the pleasures our bodies could give us. I was Dana’s age when Luci and I began our explorations, voraciously consuming any information about sex that we could get our hands on, playing with her mother’s vibrator, learning how to kiss and make love with each other. I thought about Luci as I began to caress Dana’s back again, cupping her skinny little bottom through her nightie. She almost felt like Luci.

  Dana reached down and pulled the front of her nightgown up, pressing her bare cunny against my hip, moving it back and forth. Her sex felt hot and damp against my skin, and I began to press my own flower back against her thigh. She let out another gasp as I slipped my hand under the back of her nightie, caressing her soft cheeks, my fingers lightly probing her cleft, dancing over her puffy labia, making her press harder against me.

  I leaned my head forward on the pillow and kissed her soft lips, gently nibbling them. Dana pressed her lips against mine but, like her brother, her tongue was shy, hesitantly touching mine. I squeezed her bottom and she began to hump me faster, pushing forward against my hip and then back against my fingers, her thigh grinding across my cleft. I reached down and pulled up my chemise so she could feel my heat against her skin as well.

  “Feel good, baby?” I whispered. Dana nodded.

  “You like to touch yourself?” She shook her head.

  “My pillow sometimes, sometimes Mr. Beary Bear,” Dana said. I looked over at the big stuffed animal that was sitting on her chair, picturing her humping the plush toy, its furry leg pressed between her thighs, her nightie bunched up around her hips, her little ass moving back and forth.

  “Let me show you something,” I said. “Lie back, honey.” Dana slowly stopped grinding her sex against my hip and rolled on to her back. I folded the sheets aside and lifted her nightgown over her chest, exposing her little brown nipples. Leaning over her slim form, I began to kiss and lick her areola, making her moan softly in the dark bedroom.

  She spread her legs as I gently caressed her thighs, lightly grazing her labia with my fingertips before pressing them inside her sex. She was damp down there, but not wet enough, and I brought my fingers to my lips to moisten them, returning to her cleft. As I probed her little cunny, Dana arched her back slightly, letting me slip my other hand around her slim waist.

  “Oh!” she said softly when I began to circle her tiny clit with a wet fingertip. Humping her stuffed toy or her pillow might have produced a pleasant enough sensation, but this new feeling caught her by surprise.

>   “Feel nice?” I asked her. Dana nodded and smiled, and I continued circling her little button, never touching it directly. Her hips began to move, her chest started to heave, and when I touched her clit directly, she let out a louder gasp and I felt her start to shudder. I pressed my thumb against her pearl and started probing her wet slit with my other fingers.

  “Annie...,” she gasped. I could feel Dana getting wetter down there as she humped my fingers, her breathing growing heavier, a series of short, sharp breaths escaping her parted lips, and then a deep breath as she pressed her quivering thighs together, arching her back higher off of the mattress.

  “Ah...ah...ah...,” she moaned, and then a long “Ahhhhh...” as she relaxed against the bed, parting her thighs to release my fingers. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me close against her flat chest, letting out a long contented sigh. I caressed her flat belly and stretched out next to her, finding her lips with my own. Her tongue was anything but shy now.

  “You do that...to yourself?” she asked, a look of wonder on her face.

  “Yes, sweetie,” I whispered. “It’s great, isn’t it?” Dana nodded and touched herself tentatively, grazing her little clit with her finger, shivering slightly, still sensitive from her climax.

  “Can I watch you...?” Dana said.

  “Some other time,” I replied. “Let’s get to sleep, baby.” Dana nodded and snuggled against me, pressing her warm skin against my own and closing her eyes. I was pretty horny, and I probably would have come quickly, but I didn’t want to make any noise. It was one thing to pleasure myself in the shower, where the sound of running water would mask my stifled cries of delight, but a quiet home in the middle of the night was another matter. I could wait until morning.

  I woke up just before dawn and slowly extricated myself from Dana’s arms, straightening out my chemise and crawling back into the cot. Dana stirred and murmured something, but didn’t wake. I hoped her dreams were more pleasant now.