Listening to Jack
Part 25
And after the little incident with Kevin, things calmed down a little for Emily. Okay, calm probably wasn’t quite the right way to describe it—things were still crazy. But crazy in the most deliciously dirty sort of way, where everything, absolutely everything, was
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amazing and awesome and totally wonderful. Just like it was supposed to be. Except
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for some strange reason, it was awfully hard for Emily to remember a lot of what was happening to her. She knew she was always busy, insanely busy, to the point where it seemed like she was barely sleeping anymore—she was always at school, or with Jack, or doing something for school or for Jack. Or both at the same time, sometimes. But it also seemed like whenever Emily finally got a moment to actually stop and to breathe, and to think
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… well, she found herself forgetting most of the things she’d done, and with whom she’d been doing them. And if she tried hard to remember anything
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it made her pretty blonde head hurt. So she didn’t try anymore.
Besides, Emily thought brightly, it’s probably not like any of it was all that important anyway …
Not that Emily was forgetting everything. Heavens, no. Gosh, some of it was too much fun to forget. Or too important. Like that afternoon’s cheerleading practice, for instance. She and Samantha—and Dawn, too, when that sexy little hussy wasn’t busy sneaking off to the boys’ locker room—had put together, like, the best cheerleading routines of all time. Really fast, really peppy, and incredibly complex, with lots of flips and tumbles and pyramids. Emily just knew it was going to be fantastic at the first pep rally before the first football game at the end of the week, and even better at their first full cheerleading competition later that month …
… even if they didn’t really seem to, well, practice the routines all that much. Emily couldn’t really remember actually rehearsing any of her super-amazing cheers in the gym, or watching any of her sexy friends do them, either. Thinking about that was one of the things that made her head hurt. She did fuzzily remember, though, sitting in a circle with all of the other cheerleaders, holding their hands as they all wore the latest versions of Jack’s awesome new headphones, closing their eyes as they listened to the soothing static and imagined themselves doing their carefully choreographed routines, over and over. It was just like actually doing the routines, only better. And Emily was absolutely certain
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that they must’ve all done the routines right after they all visualized them. Certainly, they must’ve done them. After all, they couldn’t have learned it all so well without actually doing them.
And while the nubile squad of Emily and all the other cheerleaders had been sitting in their circle … well, Emily was a little hazy on it, but she seemed to remember Mrs. Owens—the school nurse—walking slowly around the group of girls, stopping behind most of them to give them a quick wipe of the shoulder with an alcohol-soaked handkerchief, followed by an even quicker jab of a syringe needle.
For you, the wizened old nurse had murmured cheerfully in Emily’s ear, and for the wonderful miracle your brother planted in your cute little pussy.
And as Mrs. Owens continued giving shots around the circle to some of the other girls, like Samantha and Dawn and Tamara, Emily could see Mrs. Owens murmuring very similar things to them …
… and she could also see the little shining chrome device nestled in the elderly nurse’s ear.
Emily thought that was super, duper sweet of Mrs. Owens.
Emily sort of remembered what happened after that practice, too. God, that would’ve been almost impossible for her to forget. After she’d finally gotten home from school and stripped naked like a good little slut, she’d told her sexy brother Jack all about what she’d done to Kevin that morning … and she’d been delighted to see his eyes grow wide with malevolent glee before he’d grabbed her by the shoulders and thrown her down onto the grimy, rumpled sheets of his bed. To her absolute shock—and delight—Jack had immediately gone down on her, roughly shoving his ravenous face between her lean, wantonly spread legs, licking her slick, needy slit in a wild frenzy. It hadn’t been long at all until Emily had been moaning lustily, running her fingers through her brother’s tousled hair as his slavering tongue brought her to a wickedly wonderful orgasm.
And as the throes of that orgasm finally started to subside, he’d stripped off his clothes and clambered on top of Emily, sliding his cock inside of her in one smooth, hard thrust, and started fucking her in a wild frenzy, their naked bodies incestuously intertwined as Emily moaned and raked her fingernails hard down his back, her ankles crossed and pressed against the small of his back,
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loving every second of her brother’s amazing cock plunging in and out of her … and then they’d both started cumming like crazy, waves of sinfully good pleasure washing over both brother and sister as they both reached their climaxes.
Emily thought it was so, so good.
And honestly, it hadn’t been too much longer after that when Emily’s fantastically filthy evening had gotten even better … and Samantha and Donna had sauntered down the basement stairs to join her and Jack, right when Jack was fucking her again, holding her by her slender waist as he was going at her nice and hard doggystyle. Without saying a word, Samantha had quickly scooted onto the bed with them, wriggling right underneath Emily so that they could lick each other’s sweet, sweet cunts … and so that Samantha got an utterly perfect view of Jack’s big, delicious cock sliding in and out of his sister’s naughty fuckhole as well. And without the slightest hesitation, Samantha had immediately started slurping Jack’s creamy seed right out of Emily’s pussy the moment he’d finished emptying his balls inside of her, making Emily shiver and writhe in ecstasy …
… and then the two sweaty, horny blonde teenage cheerleaders had flipped around, so Jack could fuck Samantha while they continued to sixty-nine.
Meanwhile, as they’d kept fucking in their sinfully good threesome, Jack had ordered Donna to start making a video of what was happening with one of the little handheld camcorders he kept near the bed … and while she listened—of course
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Donna listened, why wouldn’t she?—the raven-haired cheerleader hadn’t exactly looked happy as she’d sat there on the edge of the bed, scowling as Emily and Samantha sighed and squealed happily with every grunting thrust and playful slap that they were getting from Jack.
Why is Donna so miserable? Emily wondered, completely bewildered as she saw the despondent, bitter look on her best friend’s face. Granted, it was kind of hard to see Donna in the first place, what with Samantha and Jack’s thighs constantly in the way … and with Jack’s balls brushing lightly against her nose and chin on occasion. She’s with us … with Jack … she’s so lucky, she should be so happy …
And then Jack had momentarily slipped his long, glistening dick out of Samantha’s slick, slippery slit and slid it downwards into Emily’s hot little mouth, letting her wantonly taste the musky juices that were coating his shaft …
… and she’d sort of forgotten about Donna’s unhappy demeanor for a while.
And—after Jack had finished with Samantha and gone back to working on his computer terminal, and the three girls had gone up to Emily’s bedroom at Jack’s
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insistence to be frisky with each other all night and into the wee hours of the morning … that had been the next couple of days. Go to school, which was all a hazy blur. Go to cheerleading practice, which was even more of a hazy blur. Go home to Jack, and either fuck like crazy or help Jack with his work. And both of those were bigger blurs. Sleep, maybe for an hour or two.
And repeat, again and again.
Although Emily hadn’t terribly minded helping Jack with his work anymore. It wasn’t like it had been before she’d gone on her naughty trip to Las Vegas, when Emily had to watch endlessly boring patterns of lights on Jack’s monitors, and then write down numbers and patterns of colors and all sorts of strange things that Jack would call out as they flashed on the screen for what seemed like hours on end. No, that awful boringness had fallen to Donna, who sat patiently next to Jack, dutifully taking page after page of notes while wearing nothing but a sexy scarlet-and-black satin corset.
Emily, meanwhile had gotten to sit underneath Jack’s workstation, where she’d listened to the soft hum of her brother’s homebrew web of networked computers … wearing only a pair of shiny black stiletto heels and white knee-high stockings, and not a stitch of clothing otherwise. And since her sexy brother Jack had decided to conveniently not wear pants, or shorts, or any sort of underwear at all, that had left Emily to constantly crawl between his splayed knees with a big, happy smile on her face, so she could pleasure him with her hand or her mouth.
There were a few times Jack had reluctantly pushed her away—not now, Em, he’d say, I just need to finish this. But then he’d hand her a huge dildo or vibrator, and tell her to play with herself, and
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boy was that ever fun, and she’d let out little fluttering cries of bliss as she’d shamelessly masturbate under the workstation, and she’d cum over and over again, and she’d watch her brother’s cock slowly grow stiff with desire under the desk as he listened to her throaty moans of decadent pleasure … and, eventually, he’d reach down under the workstation, grinning as he pulled her up onto his lap and then onto the bed. And then either they’d fuck, or Jack would get one of his other sluts from upstairs to join them—usually their sexy mother Chelsea, who was always delighted to join them, but sometimes it was spoiled, snotty rich girl Rebecca, one of the more recent additions to the cheerleading squad.
Rebecca seemed to be spending an awful lot of time lately at Emily and Jack’s house—specifically, in Todd’s bedroom—but Jack liked Rebecca quite a bit, too. Enough so, anyway, that he’d send Donna up there to drag the big-titted giggling freshman girl down to the basement by the wrist so that Jack could play with her. He’d usually make Donna clean out Rebecca’s sperm-soaked cunt with her tongue first, and then he’d start fucking the shit out of the giggly younger girl, often inviting in Emily to join in the fun.
And inviting Donna to sit on the side of the bed and make even more videos of their naughty threesomes.
It wasn’t just Rebecca who had caught Jack’s roving eye, though. In particular, Emily had noticed that Jack especially seemed to be enjoying the company of Kimmy’s mother Jess of late. Not that Emily supposed she could blame Jack for that. The voluptuous older woman had a practically insatiable appetite for fucking, and simply loved spreading her legs for Jack’s rock hard cock. And holy shit, was Mrs. Grant a screamer. There wasn’t a place in the house that Emily could go—not even the attic, not even the far corner of the backyard behind the tool shed—where she couldn’t hear the woman lustily screaming things like GOD, JACK, FUCK ME HARDER, FUCK ME LIKE THE FILTHY SLUT THAT I AM!!!! at the top of her lungs.
Emily wondered sometimes what the neighbors thought of that. Surely they could hear Mrs. Grant’s lusty screams of wanton bliss. For that matter, they could probably hear a lot of strange things emanating from Emily’s house. But Emily
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supposed it didn’t matter.
It wasn’t always fun, though. It would get boring from time to time, as Jack would usually start asking all sorts of weird questions to Jess almost immediately after they’d finished fucking. Technical questions. Like transmitter strength, and frequency bands, and data encryption refresh rates, and blah blah blah bullshit bullshit bullshit boring. Emily certainly hadn’t understood any of it, that was for sure. But Jess had patiently answered all of Jack’s questions in a sort of dreamy monotone, which Emily found a little surprising—how does an oversexed, airheaded weather forecaster know so many complicated details about a television station, anyway? she wondered—but
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Emily had supposed it really didn’t matter much, anyway.
Besides, whenever Mrs. Grant had finished rattling off her boring old answers to Jack’s boring old questions … Jack was usually super happy. And eager to fuck again.
And Emily and Mrs. Grant were always quite happy to
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satiate all of Jack’s wickedly fun desires. After all, why wouldn’t they?
They were his
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special, sexy sluts, after all.
And Donna was there, as always, to make sure it was all recorded on video.
Fucking wasn’t the only thing going on. Cheerleading was taking up so much of Emily’s time, too. Of all the cheerleaders, for that matter. Besides preparing for the huge pep rally that coming Thursday night—Patriot High’s first big football game of the season, against their big rival Eastfield—they’d held their first big fundraiser sometime that week as well. Probably on the weekend, although
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it was really hard for Emily to remember when things were happening. Still, she did remember that the fundraiser had been a car wash, and that it had gone exceedingly well. All the girls wore super skimpy bikinis in the school colors of red, white, and blue—very patriotic—and they’d spent probably as much time soaping and fondling and making out with each other as they had washing the cars. The line of cars needing a wash that day had stretched out many, many blocks for some reason, with passengers willing to wait well over an hour for service.
Needless to say, the Patriot High cheerleading squad raised a lot of money that day. And raised a lot of other things, too. And for a few select car wash customers, a few bonus perks were received as well. More than a few cars decided to pay considerably extra to have a private wash back behind the rows of school buses parked in the back of Patriot High … and to receive the special attentions of certain cheerleaders willing to clean things both outside and inside those cars. The drivers of the cars—usually older men—typically left their special washes with big smiles plastered across their faces, along with rather special gifts.
Namely, a tiny golden earpiece, nestled snugly in the left ears of those customers.
One of those special customers happened to be Kimmy’s father, Mr. Grant, who showed up at the car wash in his BMW, looking rather restless and annoyed. Probably because my brother’s been busy fucking the shit out of your horny slut wife for the past three days, Emily thought as she’d recognized Kimmy’s dad. To Emily’s great delight, Mr. Grant had requested that he wouldn’t mind at all if a young, slender brunette cheerleader with pigtails happened to, well, assist him with cleaning his rather posh car. A wickedly devious smirk had crossed Emily’s face as she’d assigned Kimmy to accommodate her father’s demand … and, minutes later, judging from how much the sleek silver BMW was rocking—and from the soft, blubbering cries of blissful delight escaping out of the car’s windows—it didn’t seem that Kimmy minded all that much. And judging later that day from the video that Samantha had surreptitiously taken of what was going on inside that same BMW … yeah.
Kimmy had clearly enjoyed her father’s attention a lot.
But there was one thing that Emily noticed more than anything else. She’d been sitting in Mrs. Winter’s American History class, daydreaming and drawing pictures of big, big cocks spurting gallons of cum everywhere, when she felt her phone vibrate inside the pocket of her super-slutty cutoff denim shorts. Which was weird, because lately, whenever she got a text from Jack, or from any of the other girls … she knew she’d be getting one before her phone even buzzed. Like she was psychic, or something. Which should be weird, except
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Emily knew it wasn’t.
But being surprised by a text, or not knowing who it was from?
That was weird.
Curiously, Emily took her phone out of her pocket. She didn’t recognize the number, or who it was from. Not at first, anyway.
Meet me at 3:45 PM today. In the parking lot of the Briar Hill Mall, near the edge of town. Come alone. We have important things to discuss.
Also, kindly enter the following numbers on your phone. 1408#
Mr. Hill.
Emily wrinkled her nose, and frowned. Fuck you, Mr. Hill, she thought bitterly, even as her thumb started pressing the exact numbers her stupid teacher had requested, there’s absolutely no way I’m going to—
OVERRIDE
SAPPHIRE
warning
emergency
crossjoin to orange security protocols eight point one, priority alpha
crossjoin to—
OVERRIDE
SAPPHIRE
crossjoin sequence canceled
emergency canceled
OVERRIDE
SAPPHIRE
OBEY.
OBEY. OBEY. OBEY.
Emily blinked. And smiled as she nodded her head, understanding completely.
She knew exactly where she needed to be at 3:45 that afternoon.
Where else would she be, after all?