Page 185 of Under the Bed

The water starts running in the sink. My heart beats steadily as my body prepares for this. For her.

I head to the bedroom.

The door to the connected bathroom is half-closed. Her addition to our game, I assume. A way to let me walk around undetected.

My sweet, clever, masochistic stepsister.

Her humming filters from behind the door. Rising over the water stream.

As usual, Shiloh is out of tune.

Twisted. Weird. Off.

Like me.

Another person might’ve found the jagged and high-pitched melody disturbing. A turn-off.

Not me.

Her off-tune humming gets me hard as a rock. The need to choke her with my cock intensifies. Instead of acting on it, I hide under the bed. Waiting for her there.

A movement from the bathroom grabs my attention.

The door opens to the inside, offering me a view of the bathroom sink. And of Shiloh.

My dirty, naked princess is holding a razor just over her leg. She has a hand pressed to the wall behind her for balance. A delicate foot leans on the low sink, opening her up for me.

She’s soaked. She came more than once this morning and she’s still wet for me. Inner thighs. Her pussy is so fucking inviting.

Her entire body is hot for this. Chest, neck, and face are flushed red. Her breasts rise and fall, each heaved breath getting me harder. Turning me into a man that isn’t really a man. Not a beast, either.

I’m the devil. The monster in her story.

My nerve endings are frayed. My need for her is a living entity inside of me.

I reach into my sweats. Fist my dick and squeeze. My eyes roll at the temporary relief.

It takes the edge off.

Good. I need these minutes to stalk her. I’m throbbing for it, for this act. She pretends to be the innocent, sweet, and clueless girl, and she does it well. I almost forget that it’s fake.

A shiver has her hand trembling despite her firm grip on the razor. A low tremble that betrays her excitement as she lowers it to her pussy.

My cock jerks at that. Precum wets the tip, and I rub it along the head, tugging at the barbell.

The things she’s doing to me. That fire. The loss of control.

She keeps humming this tune. She’s butchering it.

She’s repeating it over and over for my sake.

My focus might be off. My attention may lie mostly on the blades coursing over her smooth, perfect cunt. On the lips I shaved before we went to bed.

I recognize it nonetheless.

Finally. She’s hummingThe Exorcist’s theme song. We watched it together the night I moved into her home.

A day I’ll remember for the rest of my life.

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