You couldn’t believe that tripe from the movie worked! You’d always ridiculed that romantic nonsense, but as soon as you’d walked up to Elle, accepting your place as a man to be used however she saw fit, she’d gripped you by the jaw and kissed you.
She’d been standing naked in her living room fucking her boyfriend while her sister watched when you came in and offered yourself. But when the man complained about Elle kissing you, Elle’s dark-haired sister just swallowed him whole, and you began fucking Elle as he was digested.
Lying there, on the couch, resting against the squishy mass of her sister’s stomach, you held her close and took in the smell of her hair, like wood smoke and pine needles. Staring down into her bright blue eyes, smiling at her as her own lips opened in a warm, satisfied grin, you lifted one hand from her flat midsection to cup her breast, the too-large orb soft and warm to your touch, yet firm in your grip as you squeezed.
“mmmm Max…”
Encouraged, you rubbed again, squeezing more firmly, your other hand moving to rest on her stomach, gliding over the ridges in her abdomen.
“mhm…Maxie…”
Gently, still cupping her breast with your left hand, you extended two fingers of your right hand and trailed that ridge downward…
“MAX!”
You woke with a start, the only light in the room coming from a few glowing embers in the cabin’s fireplace, Miranda’s pale green eyes wide and locked with yours as she clutched your right hand in an almost bone crushing grip. Startled, you looked down at the hand wrapped around yours, both resting on her stomach, just by her belly button, and with a jolt of terror you realize your left hand is wrapped under hers, still resting atop the soft bulge or her breast, beneath her tank top.
Yelping, you withdraw both hands as rapidly as you can, holding them up between you and your almost equally startled cousin, speechless for the moment as she continues to stare at you wide-eyed, pulling back to sit on your lower thighs as you lean back into Carrie.
“Hmmm, wha…?” Carrie murmurs, startling you both, as you look at Miranda in your own wide-eyed panic, more than a little fear shining in the corner of your eyes.
“So-Sorry!” Miranda whispers. “I… I have to go to the bathroom. I didn’t mean to wake you; go back to sleep.”
“Hmmm” Carrie wiggles on the couch as Miranda quickly leaps to her feet, still staring at you as you hurriedly follow her off of the couch
.
“I-I’m so—” is as far as you get before Mira’s frantic hand gesture for silence halts you. Turning, Miranda flees quickly up the stairs, toward where she and your vorish cousins have rooms. Looking about, you see that most of your family had left, presumably hours ago. Bernie and Alexa were still on the couch, asleep and under their own blanket, and the only other person present was Carrie, curled up and still not lucid.
Blood pumping, you quickly flee back to your own room, closing the door behind you and trying to slip quietly into your bed without waking Rudy.
Your heart was racing too fast for you to sleep. You couldn’t believe… Dimly, you heard a clinking sound from somewhere above you. A muffled sort of clatter that didn’t seem to have any regularity to it. Straining, you listened for the sound, hearing it again before it faded into silence, and then repeated itself a few minutes later.
Eventually, you hear the rushing of water through the cabin’s plumbing, and realize you’ve been hearing the clatter of bones against porcelain as Miranda finished with her meal.
Shivering, you draw the covers tighter around you, shrinking back on the bed until you’re pressed against the wall. Eyeing the door fearfully, indistinct in the dark, unlit room, you hope you haven’t received an omen. It seemed unlikely that you’d be getting any more sleep tonight.
