Bad Invisible Teachers
Chapter 22.
Tender it is the night. You support you above a finger and without effort you pass aside her apart.
I deluded him they extinguish the light and they leave that the night winds them to protect them. This way they are delivered to their nightmares.
Joys and pains unmolested scorrazzano inside and out of bodies and consciences, riding the tides of the humors. The memoirs they crosses to the precognitions tumbling together toward the abyss as mountain climber incidentati in rope.
The evening had hurt him, the night would not have cured him. To nothing the attempts of riacciuffare would have been worth the past, as whether to reach him/it under the covers, hampered by the frenzy of a sleepless night, it was able somehow to modify him/it.
The nighttime memoirs are animal untrustworthy, they force you to pursue them where you would not like, they again fall you in that country of the wonder that you have found the strength to abandon during the day.
But the night.
Behind the shut eyelids it shines the sun a warm summer sun.
A villa in the country, approves lake the kingdom of the fairies that you/they crowd the days of vacations in family.
That day kept on tormenting him/it. You/he/she would have liked to cancel him/it, with the same heat with which you/he/she would have liked to relive him/it and to bring him/it to conclusion.
The games in garden didn't stop cheering him/it, the endless baths in swimming pool, coolness ever removed. Companion of games, the sweet little sister, didn't stop her/it picking.
In water it was a continuous to jump I set him. It laughed, wet and tanned. The sun shone her I set while it was throwing the braccias to his neck and it made him take in arm. Light as a feather, it amused some support of his braccias, that with the help of the water the imperious master of the offered corpicino felt him. You/he/she was disturbed: it didn't persuade him of how much excitement could produce him the to rub himself/herself/themselves of an immature female trunk, I still deprive some call of the breast.
And out of the water, the run to dry. Himself wound her/it in the cloth and it collided with her with delicacy every permissible part of the body.
His/her parents? Where were his/her parents?
He/she didn't remember him/it more, he/she knew only to be free. She and he, left free to play, to grow, to reveal himself/herself/themselves.
It was her habit, unconsciously repeated, to get away outside himself/herself/themselves the custom, protected, to his to believe, from his/her being only a child. To find again the panties, a white shirt, a short gonnellina. And then again in the house, the villa approves lake. Only with the well closed lake out.
The thick boundaries of once were a rampart from the torrid heat and from the moral conveniences. There, as in a laboratory, playful experiments were consumed, unthinkable without curiosity and trust. Brotherly trust, nothing of badly it would be able incogliere of it.
The afternoon was departed, the sun perhaps already next to the sunset. In the house, alone, null'altro interest that to the same moment, instantly that he/she would be liked eternal. In room, on the bed, sat him, her stretched out. How could you/he/she be comfortable? You/he/she was systematized with the basin on the legs of his/her/their brother, arched on the back, to offer him really his/her flower. From the edge of the skirt the white cotton of the panties was glimpse. The sederino was supported on the cazzo of his/her/their brother. A cazzo whose turgidity had decreed that day the death of the adolescence.
Was thing him/it arrapando? If you/he/she would always have asked him/it without troubling himself/herself/themselves to answer. He/she didn't want to know him/it, not to ruin the memory of a pure lust devastante.
It was his/her sister that provoked him/it, troietta already to nine.
They laughed, they spoke, they alluded. The different bodies of maschietti and femminucce offered you sprout for snooping, ironizzare, to risk explanations that very they had to do with the game and few with the science. For them, the doctor could stay out of the door.
His hand had remained for a long time supported on the abdomen: it was afraid to move her/it, paralysed by the excitement. You helped him/it to get away himself/herself/themselves from the hindrance, lifting even more the gonnellina, when he/she wanted to explain better that down there, she was different. It was an invitation to which could not escape anymore.
The hand supported him to the pube and remained for a long time there, for all the endless moments that separate the to desire something of prohibited to get him/it.
It started to caress her/it with the back, almost with separation. And her nothing, seemed not to realize of it.
Then you/he/she could turn the hand and the fingers they started to idle himself/herself/themselves with the elastic one of the panties. It was not able not to try tickle, the groin picked her. Was thing paralysing her/it, therefore? The innocent indifference or the first shame?
It removed the edge and he/she insinuated him with the fingers under the fabric. It found a small hairless mountain, only uncontaminated skin. Raced then along the crack, first grazing her/it, then making pressure. The lips slightly opened him. And they bathed him.
You/they were not stream but it was sure that what felt under the fingers was something more of the simple sweat.
You/they had stopped by now speaking, he/she didn't even know him from when. New feelings had captured them.
You breathed deeply every time that his finger sank among the tender meats.
Her liked it, it was sure of it. And he/she called him/it, he/she called his/her precocious virility, only with the look.
It lifted her from itself and it abandoned her/it on the bed. It held her opened the legs and it laid down him above.
He was still in custom and bottom the damp fabric the penis it rebelled him to the constraint. It found natural to go to rub him/it against the sex of his/her/their sister.
You panted, that pits to like or few cared less by now: it had to come therefore soon to the.
You detached of that little that all it took is for maneuvering the genital ones. It removed of I clean her panties and if it extracted him/it from the custom.
Then it stared only at her in face, looking for a sign of assent, that had to be natural for as the things you/they were evolved. Instead no.
In that intimidated eyes, he/she clearly read that the game was ended. There was no more curiosities, only the fear of what unimaginable result for her would have had that afternoon of abandonment.
And this excited even more it.
It aimed the glans among the lips and it started to rub him/it with the hand. The enjoyment grew uncontrollable, the bird in flames asked only to explode.
You had a wince.
«Thing you do?» he/she asked.
You/he/she would have understood soon him the puttanella of sister.
You/he/she would have penetrated her. Oh, yes, and squassato the abdomen would have her, and you/he/she would have done her its.
But the orgasm called.
The crack was damp, now it was sure of it. The small one discovered the pleasure that terrifies and he was the craftsman of it. The hand owner height stantuffava vigor: to brief everything the nectar would have given her.
Really then he/she heard the keys in the lock of the door of entry.
You stopped of hit.
The door had opened, of the footsteps in the entry.
You heard then the voice of his/her/their parents.
«Ettore? Laura? Where are you?»
The game was ended, incomplete. Only the time to look at the faccino of Laura, that didn't understand anymore if it had to cry, to laugh, to stay or to run away. The it removed him of hit, putting again all to place to the best.
And the day stormed in the night.
Also here, also now, eight years later.
Really at that time he/she heard the keys in the lock.
The door had
opened, of the footsteps in the entry.
But any voice to call him/it.
It was deep night, Laura had reentered after the rebellion.
That distant day, ever forgotten, family duty had brought back him/it to itself. And he was fallen, from good child, to welcome the parents of return.
That night had remained in bed instead. From good brother, you/he/she would have had to get up, to welcome Laura, to scold her/it and to forgive her/it.
But you/he/she could not make to be seen so, weak, crying, gasping, and with the whole held back sborra that afternoon what time it on his/her hand.