The Best Education Comes from Home

tagIncest/TabooThe Best Education Comes from Home

Aliya bit back a moan. Her back was arcing off the bed now, sweat glistening off the curve of her neck. Her pajamas were crumpled and undone as her hand furiously worked away at the apex of her thighs, the other firmly planted around her right breast.
Her wrist started pumping faster, the wet schlicking growing increasingly louder as her labored breaths turned to mewls. And then, her now-boyfriend's name slipped from her lips.
"Bernard…ahnn"
It had been several months since she had officially confessed to him, several months since, to her elated surprise, she discovered that they shared a mutual affection for each other. But it had also been several months since she hadn't been touched by him other than the few bashful times he's held her hand, maybe the occasional brushing of her leg.
And, in recent weeks, Aliya had resorted to masturbation to itch the incessant heat in the base of her belly.
Aliya had initially been fine with this arrangement. After all, she understood the importance of taking it slow, of getting to know each other better, of maturing first. She'd wait for as long as Bernard wanted, no matter how sexually-frustrating it was. She was finally 18 now. She had to learn to keep her urges under control, like a real woman should.
But ever since she turned 18 a month ago, that blossoming heat inside of her, that itch that she couldn't seem to fully scratch became overwhelming.
And it didn't help that her dilemma was exacerbated by the muffled thuds and yelps banging through the wall right against her bed.
In the room next door, her sister Jennifer was being fucked. Hard.
Aliya could hear her frantic gasps, her desperate pleas, mature moans. She could even make out the dull slap of skin, the messy rustle of sheets. This shouldn't have bothered her as much as she did, especially when she had headphones sitting within arm's reach on her nightstand, but every night for the past week, Aliya couldn't help but tune in and imagine it was her getting fucked.
To make matters worse, ever since the previous night, she couldn't help but to imagine that it wasn't Bernard who was between her legs, but the handsome stranger Jennifer had brought home.
It was a mental struggle that Aliya had never experienced before, and she knew it all stemmed from that one night where curiosity had brought her to the door of her sister's room, a small gap allowing her to see exactly how Jennifer was being made love to. She had only stood there for only a few minutes, but what she saw was ingrained into her mind, and try as she might, she couldn't get it out of her head.
Not just the way her sister looked, thoroughly fucked into carnal bliss, but also the sweat-glistened muscles of the stranger pistoning into her, the cocky smile on his face as he claimed her as his own.
It haunted Aliya, day in and day out.
One night stands weren't all that uncommon for Jennifer. Both of them were raised in a very strict and very conservative Korean Christian household. So of course when Jennifer finally moved out into the city, she'd taken every opportunity to live as wild and free as she could.
And Jennifer kept those habits up even when Aliya has moved in almost four years ago as a high school freshman.
Aliya went to a prestigious private school just down the street. They had dorms, but rooming with her sister would ensure lower expenses from her parents (and also, her parents presumed, a barrier to prevent Aliya from fooling around. If only they knew how wild Jennifer had gotten…).
Her whole life Aliya had always been the picture-perfect Christian, straight-A, Korean-American, doctor-to-be daughter. She always went to church on Sundays, she never skipped a class, always dated boys within the church, and was still a virgin. She never got the urge to have sex until very recently, an urge that Aliya feared was something Jennifer had rubbed off on her.
Compared to Jennifer, Aliya always saw herself as something plain.
Jennifer was the one with the long, highlighted tresses of thick hair, while Aliya preferred her hair in a cute and conservative bob cut, jet black. Jennifer was the tall and sunkissed one with relatively curvy assets that attracted all the hot white jocks she'd pull in from college or the club, while Aliya was petit with a pearly traditional Korean complexion, her teenage body's curves tighter, almost skinny.
She was never jealous of Jennifer of course. In fact Aliya often scolded Jennifer, asking her "what would our parents think?". But over the years Aliya had learned to turn a blind eye to Jennifer's lifestyle; she had her own life to lead, and her parents needed at least one child to live the way they wanted to.
So Aliya had always just ignored the revolving door of one night stands and boyfriends (none of them Korean or Christian!) when they happened. It was none of Aliya's business, and at the end of the day Jennifer was her sister whom she loved. The guys would come in and out, Aliya might say hello before ducking into her room with sound cancelling headphones until it all blew over.
But Jennifer's current lay was different.
Even before she witnessed him making the beast with two backs with her sister, she'd noticed the way he looked at her.
Leering. Looking at Aliya in a way that shouldn't be the way a suitor of her sister should be looking at her. Looking at Aliya in a way she'd never been looked at before in her life, by anyone. Not even Bernard.
And at this point, Aliya didn't mind it at all.
The stranger was dreadfully attractive. He was apparently a life guard or something Jennifer had met during a bonfire party with her friends. He was white, his skin tanned and taut. He looked about in his late 20s, maybe early 30s. He held an air of maturity that excited Aliya, experience in his eyes that seemed to trump not only every other man Jennifer had brought home, but Jennifer herself. He was built leaner than the usual clubbers and jocks, hair somewhat of a utilitarian shortness. For once, Jennifer had brought home a man.
And, whether she knew it or not, from the first moment she saw him, the first moment she saw the way he looked at her, Aliya wanted him.
"A-Ah!" Aliya moaned, her eyes flying open in her carnal daze upon the realization that it wasn't Bernard in her mind's eye anymore, but the stranger next door.
She didn't even know his name, and here she was, imagining him inside her, claiming her, reaming her.
Without even thinking she started replaying the few minutes she'd peeked in on him, started to recall every last vivid detail, placing herself in Jennifer's position, sprawled on that bed, sweating and moaning out wanton squeals.
Aliya came harder than she ever had before, her breath hitching and choking out, trapped in the confined of her throat. She saw little spots in her vision, felt as if gravity was nowhere close enough to holding her down, her skin and all her nerves going taut and exploding and going lax all at once.
It was pure euphoria, and all the while, the only body, the only face, the only smile in her mind was that of the stranger's.
By the time Aliya came down, her lithe teenage body still having little involuntary spasms like leftover sparks from a blown generator, she was sweating. She could feel the damp spots already starting to blot on her pajamas as she panted, looking up at the ceiling to think over what she'd just done.
The sex in the room next door still raged on, and she could hear the telltale grunts from the stranger as he started reaching his own peak, hearing her sister moan out soft profanities. There was a lull, a low exchange of mumblings.
Aliya had just masturbated to the thought of another man, an older stranger she didn't even know or talk to other than a few greetings and some small talk.
It was a form of betrayal, and she knew it. She wondered what Bernard might feel if she told him. She wondered if he could ever forgive her.
But before any more of those musings continued to propagate, two things happened:
Aliya realized that she didn't feel any guilt at all.
The hand between her legs started moving again.
Behind the wall, she could hear her sister's soft moans resume, the sheets ruffle, the cycle of sex resuming once more. And so the night went on, with her hands bringing her to climax again, and again.
The next morning came, and Aliya's conflicted mind had time to unwind a bit in their bathroom. She had just finished showering, her hair damp as she slipped into her panties. She looked at herself in the mirror, half-naked with her bra still unclasped, loose over her modest chest. Looking at her skin, she saw ghostly apparitions of the hands from her fantasies, running against her, squeezing her. She felt the heat start to pool in her belly again.
She lost herself in her daydream as the sink in front of her kept running, making some sound that could distract her from these thoughts from running their course, from remembering the sounds from last night…
But of course, the only thing she could hear now was that muffled slap of skin, exchange of gasps, the cacophony of rough sex.
And again, she didn't feel the guilt come. Aliya tried, almost forced it to come as she bit her lip, balling her small hands into fists, nails digging into skin. All she could remember was the bliss her body had been wrung through the night before, how she'd made her sheets all sweaty, how she fell asleep completely nude, pajamas completely forlorn in a pink crumple on the floor.
And instead of guilt, what came instead was a desire for more.
Aliya's fingers were already between her legs when the door to the bathroom cracked open. She'd forgotten to lock it. Her realization of the sound as well as the realization of her fingers digging inside her came at the same time.
She froze, rigid as she looked ahead of her, horrified. She knew Jennifer was still sleeping; she was never up this early. Her hand shot out of her panties, but it was too late.
"…wow sorry, I didn't mean to intrude." the stranger said. The baritone of his intonation only made Aliya's turn to excited gooseflesh.
"It's fine." Aliya said, surprising herself with how firm her voice was, how fast her reply came. She dared to turn towards the doorway, only for her eyes to widen when she saw that the stranger was wearing nothing but his boxers, leaving his toned body free for her to drink in. Images of those muscles and sturdy arms flexing and straining into her flashed through her mind again, and Aliya quickly averted her gaze.
A silence ensued, occupied only by the running of the faucet. The bathroom door didn't close, and she felt the stranger's eyes on her naked skin.
Oddly enough, Aliya didn't feel embarrassed. In fact, to her ever-growing shock, she enjoyed the feeling of being looked at like this. Her breath grew a little faster as she felt blood rushing through her skin, a jittery electricity choking her chest. The stranger was giving her time to think, and she knew it.
Then,
"Well alright, I'll just go an-"
"W-Wait!" Aliya said in a blurt, her eyes still averted from the stranger, focused dead center into the wall in front of her. She gulped, feeling her pulse pound harder. Was she really about to go through with this? What if she just misread the stranger's looks for the past few days and she was about to make herself look like a silly girl? Once again, all her logic was superceded by that heat, roiling now at its most intense, and words came to her lips without thinking. "I actually need some h-help with something, mister."
Aliya's heartbeat was like a jackhammer now, pounding staccato in the flimsy bounds of her chest.
"Oh?" the stranger said, and Aliya could just hear him wear that grin he always had on. "With what?"
"I…I'm kind of having trouble with this new bra…"
It was a lie, and she knew it. What a cliche, what a stupid, flimsy request to keep this man inside this bathroom with her. Her breaths were rushing past her lips now, and Aliya felt a little lightheaded. She was beyond excited. She looked away from the stranger, focusing on her toes on the tile floor.
A pause, but then Aliya heard the bathroom door click shut.
"Alright then."
Then, she heard his feet striding towards her across the condensated floor tile. Aliya knew from that moment on that her fate was sealed.
Minutes later, the stranger's hands were on the naked skin of her back. His large calloused hands were easing over her skin as if he did this every morning.
Aliya was beyond mortified. Here was the man she'd just touched herself to last night, and his hands were on her naked skin. She clenched her fists, feeling her heart crawl up her throat. This was too much. She could already feel the heat starting to leak out between her legs, and her thighs shifted as the minutes grew on, her teeth digging hard into her bottom lip.
Click!
The soft plastic clasp resounded. The job was done. This should have been his time to leave.
But he didn't.
Aliya lifted her head up to the mirror. He was looking at her. His eyes on her body. Not another word and suddenly his hands were on her thin arms, smoothing down her milky skin. She shivered, not knowing what to say, what to do.
She wanted to make small talk, maybe make it as casual as the stranger was making it seem, but nothing came out. In fact, the only thing that came out from her lips was a small mewl.
Her hand flew to her mouth the instant it slipped, but it was too late. The stranger had heard her.
Aliya froze, shifting even more uncomfortably as her eyelids fluttered. His hands felt too damn good as they suddenly drifted down to her sides. Her shoulders rose and fell with her breasts now, and she could feel the stranger's own breaths wisping against the base of her neck.
"You enjoyed the show that much, huh?" he suddenly said, his voice a deep rumble against her hair. His hands suddenly pounced on her skin, their large digits digging into the softness of her back.
She instantly knew what he was referring to; how couldn't she? The "show" was the only thing that was on her mind for the past few days. His hands were on her shoulders now, easing out more of her tension, more of any flimsy excuse of resistance. She couldn't speak, not when she felt this relaxed, this hot, this aroused. So she managed a nod.
The stranger chuckled. Her eyes shot open as she felt something hot and meaty suddenly kiss her lower back. Aliya didn't have much time to realize it was the stranger's cock before her body melted completely as his hands smoothed over her shoulders, sliding under the bra he had just helped her put on.
Her perky nipples excitedly sent sparks of delicious friction throughout her nerves, like nodes as his hands seized her breasts, brazenly groping her without holding himself back. Aliya let out her first moan, letting her head fall back onto the stranger's chest as she felt more heat leak out from her core.
She felt his mouth on her neck, and shivered, panting as his tongue traced her skin.
"Well I enjoyed the show too, missy." he said, his growl of a voice searing through her skin. "You're pretty loud when you touch yourself. Your boyfriend must like that a lot."
The mention of Bernard didn't even register to Aliya. Her young body was being assaulted by too many sensations, her skin on fire. Drops of sweat were starting to form alongside the condensation of shower steam on paleness. She let out a squeal as she felt one of his hands slip under the lacy band of her panties into the heat of her pussy.
Within minutes, Aliya had voluntarily given herself to this man, her entire body squirming and writhing against the strong hold of his arms. She came easily. Too easily, gasping out rasps as she felt heat shoot out from her core in waves, her quim soaking her panties. It was a world's difference from when it was her fingers inside of her, and her thighs clamped around the stranger's hand as she climaxed around his fingers, her entire body shuddering and falling back into the grasp of the stranger embracing her.
This was what she was missing, the sensations she'd wanted and craved as she touched herself, imagining the heat inside of her sated.
The heat swelled and overflowed all over her body, and Aliya shut her eyes to ride it all out, thankful for the warmth of the stranger's body draped over hers. He was so big and so firm, so strong.
She was so wrapped up in the afterglow that she didn't even realize his body wasn't pressed up against hers anymore. Aliya opened her eyes, feeling reasonably less warm, but also feeling considerably more horny. Her mind was fogged, asphyxiated by lust, that warmth in her belly suddenly bristling throughout her entire body. She needed more, needed to feel the touch of that stranger again.
And as if on cue, she felt something hot and pulsing kiss her thighs.
The stranger's hands grabbed her shoulders suddenly, and gave an intentful push. She obeyed, lowering herself down onto her haunches to be face to face with his throbbing cock.
She gulped, looking at its veiny intricacies, its aroma overwhelming her nose. The musk of it, the raw virility exuded from its prideful firmness, all of it was making Aliya's head spin. She licked her lips, feeling excited just looking at it.
She looked up at the stranger, up at that smile of his as he looked down at her expectantly. He gave a singular nod before he made the slightest move forward, and let the head of his cock kiss her lips.
Aliya's eyes fluttered at the initial taste, but she let him slip between her cheeks without protest, feeling him fill her mouth completely, the pressure of his pulsing arousal pushing down against her small tongue.
Those large hands of his ran through her short hair, finding a firm grip as he guided her, pulling her lips back and forth over his cock. The sheer length and girth of him meant that Aliya's mouth could only swallow about half of his cock, and with every forward push Aliya could feel his prick knock against the entrance to her throat.
Soon, with the guidance of the firm grip on her head, the stranger pumped his shaft past her lips at a regular pace. Aliya instinctively started to schlick herself, eyes shut tight in concentration as she reveled in the musky taste of his prick, in the overwhelming aroma of its veininess. In due time, the stranger got rougher. He took advantage of the grip around her little head, and she could tell that he was starting to just use her without any regard to her discomfort as she sputtered around him, coughing as his lust rammed into her uvula again, and again, and again.
She loved it.
Aliya let the stranger further coil her hair around his fingers, one of her own hands reaching out to his hip to stabilize herself as her world started to blur with the speed he kept fucking her mouth. Eventually, as she adjusted her jaw to the pumping meat, strands of spit leaking out onto her chin, she was successful in swallowing him into the tight pocket of her throat, an achievement that surprised even the stranger as he let his head fall back and groan out a "fuck" at the newfound tightness.
The pace grew, and the stranger kept rutting her mouth, pushing deeper and deeper into Aliya's throat until she had him completely engulfed. Sloppy wet sounds of her throat being impaled by his girth echoed in the steamy bathroom. She choked and sputtered, saliva and throat sop spewing out from her nostrils to drizzle down onto her bra, but Aliya managed to keep sucking, intent on seeing this through to the end. Soon enough, the stranger was slamming Aliya's face into his crotch, her nose smashing into his pubes as he started hissing out more curses.
One final forceful slam of her head into his crotch, and Aliya could feel it, his cock started to pump hot shot after hot shot of fresh nut down her gullet. She had no choice but to swallow it all, let it all course down her throat into her stomach until the grip of the stranger's hands on her hair went lax enough for her to pull him out.

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