Khari kissed her more, pressing against her and kissing his way down her throat and making that aching feeling a whole lot better and worse at the same time. She whimpered, and the soft, needy sound was new too, one he seemed to like a whole lot. Holding her tighter, nipping and pinching and kissing and making her body burn. She was right there with him, caught up in the fire and held safe and sound by the water all around them.
Until.
Secret. Her brow wrinkled even as she arched into his touch, and a nervous little flutter in her belly distracted her from how good he felt. We’re a secret. They wouldn’t understand. You can keep us a secret, can’t you? If you want this. If you want more. So hard to think, when he was touching her, when his lips were on her skin, when he was biting down and making that sound, the one that sent a lovely shudder through her and chased the thoughts right out of her head ‘til all that existed was him and her and this moment.
So why did Daddy’s voice pop up when he asked that, when her Khari asked her to keep them secret? His face flashed in her head, a grumpy scowl and a snort and a whooshing sound that was a flick of his shiny tail as they walked home from one of their ventures. An offhand comment, the way he did sometimes, half thinking out loud and talking to himself, half telling her things she didn’t really understand but she always listened anyhow.
(Boys are dumb, Kali. We just are, especially when we’re teenagers. Too busy thinking with our dicks to stop and think if what we want to do is what we should do. How we might get hurt. How someone else might get hurt. Somebody ever tries to make you their dirty little secret like that, you tell ‘em to fuck straight off, you got it? You’re worth more than sneaking around and hiding and lying, and anybody who can’t see that isn’t anybody who deserves you.)
That nervous flutter in her belly grew, and her stomach clenched and her chest tightened. Secret? she asked, caught between listening to that little not-right feeling and pushing it away so she could kiss her Khari again. What kind of secret? Some secrets were fun. Playful and tricky and happy, the kind that made everybody feel good, and this felt so good. Or the kind between friends, whispers in the dark that made both people feel closer, made them feel safe and trusted and loved just a little more. They weren’t all the kind that made Daddy grumpy and rambly and stompy, maybe this was a good secret. I like some secrets. Is this a good kind? How could it be a bad kind when all she wanted was more?
Until.
Secret. Her brow wrinkled even as she arched into his touch, and a nervous little flutter in her belly distracted her from how good he felt. We’re a secret. They wouldn’t understand. You can keep us a secret, can’t you? If you want this. If you want more. So hard to think, when he was touching her, when his lips were on her skin, when he was biting down and making that sound, the one that sent a lovely shudder through her and chased the thoughts right out of her head ‘til all that existed was him and her and this moment.
So why did Daddy’s voice pop up when he asked that, when her Khari asked her to keep them secret? His face flashed in her head, a grumpy scowl and a snort and a whooshing sound that was a flick of his shiny tail as they walked home from one of their ventures. An offhand comment, the way he did sometimes, half thinking out loud and talking to himself, half telling her things she didn’t really understand but she always listened anyhow.
(Boys are dumb, Kali. We just are, especially when we’re teenagers. Too busy thinking with our dicks to stop and think if what we want to do is what we should do. How we might get hurt. How someone else might get hurt. Somebody ever tries to make you their dirty little secret like that, you tell ‘em to fuck straight off, you got it? You’re worth more than sneaking around and hiding and lying, and anybody who can’t see that isn’t anybody who deserves you.)
That nervous flutter in her belly grew, and her stomach clenched and her chest tightened. Secret? she asked, caught between listening to that little not-right feeling and pushing it away so she could kiss her Khari again. What kind of secret? Some secrets were fun. Playful and tricky and happy, the kind that made everybody feel good, and this felt so good. Or the kind between friends, whispers in the dark that made both people feel closer, made them feel safe and trusted and loved just a little more. They weren’t all the kind that made Daddy grumpy and rambly and stompy, maybe this was a good secret. I like some secrets. Is this a good kind? How could it be a bad kind when all she wanted was more?
Kirby and Lacey's
little whisper girl
little whisper girl