Wanna Bet? 2: Higher Stakes - Sex Stories

Wanna Bet? 2: Higher Stakes

... notice. So, for the most part, we just watched a shitty movie until my bleary-eyed Mom came downstairs and told me they were ready to go home. While d***k, my Dad tended to make stupid jokes, and my mom got giggly like a schoolgirl, so I guess they were a perfect match, but it wasn’t all that fun to share a car with them. It seemed like they somehow got d***ker during the ride, as though they were holding back for the party and finally let loose when it was just the three of us. I would have put up with the irritation of annoying, d***k parents, if not for the moment of panic that a moment of sobriety caused. As I was turning onto our street, my mother suddenly, calmly, said, “We should check in on Faith before we go to bed, make sure she’s feeling better.” Any other day, that might be fine, but if my s****r had followed my instructions, she’d be lying in bed, naked, unshowered, smelling of sex and sweat. Were my parents d***k enough to miss that? My thoughts raced. They might not notice. Over the past few months, they’d not noticed a lot of things that suggested my relationship with Faith had changed, like the way we spent more time together, or how I never seemed to complain about having to stay home with her. But this… this might be hard to ignore. “She’s not really sick,” I found myself saying, startling myself, because it was the truth. What I came up with next couldn’t be. “She and Lara had little fight, and she just wanted to get away.” I smiled nervously, “If she was ...

... really sick, I wouldn’t have left her alone.” Wait, that wasn’t like me at all, too caring. “Anyway, she’s probably asl**p, but whatever, wake her if you want.” I got lucky, she didn’t call my bluff. Either she believed me or she forgot about it between the time I pulled into the driveway and the time we got to the door. She and Dad toddled up to her room, telling me to get the stocking stuffers out. That was another of my jobs, for the last few years, even though Faith hadn’t believed in Santa for a while, our parents liked having stockings supposedly from Santa, filled magically. After one of my Aunt and Uncle’s Christmas Eve parties, they didn’t usually feel up to it, so they left the job to me. I waited breathlessly at the bottom of the stairs, dreading the sound of somebody entering my s****r’s room, but thankfully, it never happened. Instead, while I handled the stocking stuffers, I became aware of another sound, a distant female high-pitched moan that was familiar, coming from the master bedroom. I groaned inwardly and sat down on the couch while my parents made the b**st with two backs. I waited about half an hour. My parents only took about ten minutes to have sex, but I wanted to make sure they were well asl**p before I crept upstairs and snuck into my s****r’s room. Her room was dark and quiet. The smell, of sex, wet, pungent, musky, and a little sharp, seemed to slap me in the face. I feared it before, but now I smiled. It meant she followed my orders. I undressed ...