Enter the Sandboy | By : GeorgeGlass Category: +G through L > The Loud House Views: 53407 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 7 |
Disclaimer: I do not own The Loud House or its characters. I made no money from writing this story. |
Enter the Sandboy
by George Glass
Summary: Lincoln's sisters are having nightmares and seeking him out for comfort. But Lincoln is having unusual dreams of his own, and the result is a whole lot of trouble.
Note: If you are kind enough to review this story, I will post a response here: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/topic/68138-review-responses-for-enter-the-sandboy/
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Chapter 1: Engine Trouble
“The hot weather is expected to continue throughout the week,” local meteorologist Patchy Drizzle said, “with no rain in the foreseeable future. In Royal Woods, advisories to conserve water and a ban on watering lawns remain in effect.”
The Loud family, gathered in front of the TV, let out a collective groan.
“This bites,” Lynn griped. “All the grass on the school field is dying. I don’t wanna play soccer on dirt all summer.”
“And how am I supposed to make mud pies?” Lana added. “‘Cause my ‘dust souffle’ is not catching on.” Hops, sitting atop Lana’s red ball cap, shook his head emphatically.
“At least our yard is still green,” Leni said.
“And,” their father added quickly, “the central air conditioning is holding together.” Then, crossing his fingers, he looked up at a vent and murmured, “You hear me, baby? Hold together.”
“Well,” their mother said, descending the stairs after putting Lily down for the night, “time to get ready for bed. Everyone upstairs.”
Lincoln yawned as he filed up the staircase with the others. Like Lynn, Lucy, and Lana, Lincoln was being made to attend the inexpensive summer day camp at Royal Woods Middle School, the chief purpose of which seemed to be to wear out the campers so that all they would want to do when they got home was eat their dinner quietly and go to bed. And as far as Lincoln was concerned, it was working; after a full day of touch football, softball, volleyball, and half-court basketball, with breaks only for lunch and a mere half-hour of arts and crafts, Lincoln was dead tired.
So he put on his orange PJs and brushed his teeth in silence as his sisters chattered around him—even Lucy, who griped at the indignity of sunshine and exercise, and Lana, who decried the unfairness of having to go to camp while her twin sister Lola got to stay home with Leni to take an online “accessorizing seminar.” Lynn, in contrast, was delighted by the nonstop sports activity and seemed as energetic as ever as she went on about the various touchdowns, home runs, and sweet volleyball spikes she’d made that day.
All of this talk simply washed over Lincoln. He rinsed his mouth, went to his room, and climbed into bed.
Normally, he would have jerked off the moment he got into bed. Lincoln had figured out the technique of masturbation about six weeks earlier, and he’d felt compelled to do it at least twice a day ever since, fantasizing about some attractive woman or girl on TV, or Ms. DiMartino, or Paige or other girls from school.
But tonight, he was too tired even for that. He was out almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.
***
Lincoln was awakened, albeit barely, by the creak of his bedroom door. He opened one eye but could see little more than darkness.
“Lincoln?”
He recognized the slightly scratchy voice. “Lana?”
The girl came in and stepped into the single beam of streetlight that came down through the high window. Now Lincoln could see the little blonde in her usual blue PJs and red baseball cap. Her head was bent toward the floor.
“I…I had a bad dream.”
Feeling a bit more awake, Lincoln sat up and patted the edge of the bed in invitation. “You wanna tell me about it?”
Lana came and sat down, scootching right up against Lincoln’s side.
“So I was under Vanzilla, trying to change the fuel filter, and I couldn’t get the old one out. Turned out somebody’d jammed in one that was sized for the Fung R series instead of the Q series. And I was like, ‘Well, there’s your problem,’ so I started banging on the casing with my wrench to try and get the filter loose.
“And then all of a sudden, the engine mounts rusted apart, and the engine fell on me!”
Even in the near-darkness of the room, Lincoln could see the wet shine in Lana’s eyes as she continued, “And it was so heavy I couldn’t move, or even breathe! And, and I couldn’t yell for help, and nobody knew I was down there, so I knew they’d never find me before, before I…”
She buried her face in her folded arms and began weeping.
“Wow, Lana,” Lincoln said gently, stroking Lana’s hair where it stuck out from under her hat. “That sounds really scary.”
“It was,” the girl sobbed.
“I’m sorry. C’mere.”
Gently, Lincoln pulled Lana down next to him so that her back was up against his chest. Then he reached up, took his stuffed rabbit down from his shelf, and put it on the bed in front of Lana.
“Do you wanna hold Bun-Bun?”
The girl nodded and clutched the stuffed animal to her chest. Then Lincoln put his arm around her.
“There,” he said gently. “You hold Bun-Bun, and I’ll hold you. That way, nobody has to be scared.”
Lana’s body was in a tight ball. But as Lincoln held her, he felt that ball start to loosen.
She took a deep breath and said, “I, I feel better now. But…is it okay if I stay here tonight?”
“Anything for my favorite twin. Well, tied for my favorite.”
Feebly, Lana chuckled and elbowed Lincoln in the ribs. “Thanks, big brother.”
Lincoln tucked Lana’s head under his chin. She smelled like dust, grass, motor oil, and the underlying sweetness of her skin.
“So…” he asked, “how come you didn’t go to Mom and Dad’s room?”
“Lisa was already in there. And I didn’t want to be down by Mom and Dad’s feet; Mom kicks in her sleep.”
“So that’s where Lynn gets it. Did Lisa have a nightmare too?”
“Uh-huh. Something about robots, and artificial intelligence, and…singularity…I didn’t really get it. And there was no room in Lori’s bed either, ‘cause I guess Leni had a nightmare, too.”
“Weird,” Lincoln said. Then he yawned. “Well, time to get some Zs. G’night, Lana.”
“G’night, Lincoln.”
***
At a house that seemed to be a composite of Lincoln’s, Clyde’s, and Rusty’s, a party was in full swing on the first floor. Lincoln, however, was in an upstairs guest room, standing in front of the foot of the queen bed.
Girl Jordan was in the doorway. She stood sideways to Lincoln with the hallway light behind her. Her pink top was knotted above her navel, and her short, white skirt was the tightest Lincoln had ever seen on a girl.
“Hey, Linc,” Jordan said. “Wanna dance?”
She moved toward him, her body swaying with the thumping beat of the bass-heavy music that wafted up from downstairs.
“Y- yeah,” Lincoln replied, eyes big.
Jordan danced close to Lincoln, turning her back to him and looking at him over her shoulder. Then she put her little bottom against his crotch and started grinding sexily against him.
“Whoa…” Lincoln breathed. It felt amazing, and his penis was already going hard in his jeans.
“Mmm…,” Jordan murmured, rubbing against the bulge in Lincoln’s pants.
Except it wasn’t Girl Jordan’s voice anymore. Now, it sounded more like…
“Mmm…” Lana murmured.
Lincoln opened his eyes. Lana’s back was pressed against his chest and stomach, but the greater pressure was that of her little bottom where it ground against his crotch. His hard penis was right between the girl’s buns, separated from them only by the thin cotton of their pajama bottoms, which made for a very pleasurable sensation as Lana moved her little behind up and down against Lincoln’s shaft.
Holy shamoley, Lincoln thought. His next thoughts were even less coherent. I’m…my thingy is…my little sister…I shouldn’t…this is so…
But even as his barely conscious brain tried to work out why this was wrong and bad and why Lincoln, as the older sibling, should put a stop to this immediately, his body was moving of its own accord. And maybe Lana’s was, too; Lincoln couldn’t tell whether she was awake or asleep as she worked her remarkably soft little bottom against his crotch.
Momentarily, though, Lincoln managed to summon enough self-control to stop rubbing his pajama-covered erection against Lana’s backside. But he couldn’t make himself go so far as to move away from Lana or otherwise stop her from rubbing against him.
To Lincoln’s simultaneous relief and disappointment, Lana soon stopped on her own. And moments later, she fell fully asleep again, if her snoring was anything to go by.
It took Lincoln quite a while to do the same.
***
There were some mornings when Lincoln woke up a few minutes before his alarm clock went off. On such occasions, he would stretch, smile, and smack the alarm’s off button as he said, “Ha, beat’cha!”
This was not one of those mornings. The alarm shocked Lincoln into consciousness from a deep sleep, and only after enduring a solid thirty seconds of the clock’s supremely irritating buzz could Lincoln summon the energy to reach over and turn it off. He opened one bleary eye, then the other.
“Mornin’, Linc!” Lana said from behind him, her chipper tone painful to Lincoln’s ears. He heard her yawn and felt her stretch. “Boy, what a great night’s sleep! Thanks again for letting me sack out in your room.”
She rolled over and grabbed Lincoln, hugging him from behind. Then she hopped out of bed and scurried off to join the line for the bathroom.
“Yer’welcome,” Lincoln slurred, dropping his face back into the pillow.
Coming up—Chapter 2: Palace Intrigue
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