Wanna Bet? 2: Higher Stakes - Sex Stories

Wanna Bet? 2: Higher Stakes

... be somehow found like that, but it was still very dark. I could hear Faith’s regular breathing beside me, and see her by the dim moonlight. I kissed her once on the cheek, then tried to gather my clothes, and snuck into my room for the rest of the night. The next time I awoke, it was to the sound of the shower turning on. Faith was in there. My parents were still asl**p. I waited until she was done and then had one myself. The first time I saw her that morning was in the living room, unwrapping the presents in our stocking. They were little things, chocolate, socks, school supplies, toiletries, and things like that. We had a fairly normal sibling conversation, showing each other our gifts, exchanging them in cases (I liked licorice, she didn’t, so I traded a pack of toffee-covered popcorn in my stocking for a licorice allsorts in hers). It was almost as though what happened last night hadn’t happened at all. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, she said, “You’re really going to do this, aren’t you? Try to knock me up?” “Yeah,” I said softly. “If you let me.” Faith let out a half-sigh, half-laugh. “Well, I have to, right? A bet’s a bet.” It was the one ironclad rule we had as a f****y. Apparently it was even stronger than the rule against i****t, though I’m not sure our parents would agree. Faith seemed to act like it was stronger than anything. “A bet is a bet,” I agreed. “And if you hold to the terms of the bet, you have to let me try. But… if you did welch out, I’d forgive ...

... you.” Her eyes widened. “You would?” “Of course. I might not want to make bets with you, at least nothing with real stakes,” I added. It was kind of a low blow. “But I’d forgive you.” She looked down at the red and green oversized sock in her lap, and was quite for a time, but finally said, “You can try. But I don’t know what I’m going to do if you manage it. What I’ll do once the bet’s over, I mean.” I nodded. I expected this was my only shot. If I succeeded, I might be able to talk her into keeping it. If not, surely any future bet, even if the stakes were one hour of sex slavery, birth control would be written into the deal. “Well, just think about it. That’s all I ask.” At that moment I heard my Dad trudge down the stairs. “Merry Christmas,” he grumbled when he saw us. We returned the salutation, a little more cheerily, but it’d be a while before he was feeling jolly again, judging by how jolly he got last night. I didn’t have much alone time with Faith that day, we’re one of those families that do go to church on Christmas Day, even if my parents have to drag us. It used to be Christmas Eve, Midnight Mass, when we were little k**s, but then I guess everyone decided they’d rather get d***k that night and make up for it the next morning. So, around noon, we all went to Church, and then we all came back home and ate leftovers and lounged around the house in our own ways. I only got one chance at a Christmas miracle that day, when Faith and I had a quick fuck while Mom and Dad ...