Itch Versus Scratch | By : GeorgeGlass Category: +G through L > The Ghost and Molly McGee Views: 1849 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own The Ghost and Molly McGee or its characters I was not paid to write this story |
Itch Versus Scratch
by George Glass
Summary: Two ghostly siblings tell Scratch they can rig Brighton’s misery meter to show maximum unhappiness forever—if Scratch convinces Molly and Darryl to lend them their bodies for a few hours. What could go wrong?
Note: This story takes place during Season 1 of The Ghost and Molly McGee.
Note2: If you are so kind as to review this story, I will respond to your review here: https://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/topic/65986-george-glass-fanfic-review-response-thread/
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Chapter 1: Sibling Revelry
“Okay, Wilderscouts!” Molly called. Backlit by the morning sun and with the Brighton River flowing behind her, she hefted her spade like a Spartan warrior would a spear as she told the assembled girls, “Looks like it’s gonna take some doing to get twenty years of mud and silt off the riverwalk, so let’s get shoveling!”
“Um, Molly?” the pink-haired Kat said, raising the head of her spade in lieu of her hand. “Where are we supposed to put all the dirt?”
“In that wheelbarrow right there!” Molly replied, pointing at her borrowed wheelbarrow and beaming with pride at having come so well prepared.
“Riiiiight,” Sheela said, “but once the wheelbarrow fills up, where do we empty it?”
“Oh,” Molly said, looking around and feeling rather less well prepared. “Well, we could put it, uhhh…”
“How about over there?” Libby said, pointing to a spot about thirty feet away in the grassy field by the river. “That sinkhole is a bit of a hazard.”
As though to prove Libby’s point, a man obliviously power-walking across the field with his dog cried “AAAAAH!” as human and canine fell into the pit. “We’re okay!” the man shouted from the bottom.
“Yes!” Molly shouted. “There’s nothing like using one problem to solve another. We’ll use the dirt to fill up that hole!”
She scraped up a spadeful of silt and was about to dump it down the hole when the man at the bottom shouted, “Wait! Get us out first!”
“Oh, right right right, totally totally totally,” Molly said, trying to look smaller.
***
Whereas it was a beautiful, sunny Saturday morning in Brighton, Scratch was hanging out in the perpetual gloom of the Ghost World, trying to avoid being dragged into whatever do-goody thing Molly was up to. Although Molly could make him come to her side instantly if she so chose, Scratch was hoping that being out of sight might also put him out of mind.
What Scratch hadn’t considered was that fleeing one annoying child could put him smack in the path of another. Or two others, in this case.
“Hey, Scratch, howzit goin’?” said Misty. The little ghost was cobalt blue, and the top of her head was an explosion of braids, each with a little pink bow at the end.
“Did you know it’s 12:05?” her brother Maxwell added. He was slightly bigger than Misty and purple, with disorderly bangs that partly covered his eyes.
“We thought we should tell you,” Misty said, “since we’re the only ghosts besides Geoff who’ll give you the time of day.” Maxwell guffawed.
“Oh, great,” Scratch groaned as he rolled his eyes, “it’s the Ragamuffin Twins.”
“We’re not twins,” Maxwell objected. “I’m a whole year older.”
“We’ve been dead for decades, Maxwell,” Misty said, poking her brother in the side. “When are you gonna let go of the ‘year older’ thing?”
“Never!” the boy cried.
“Fine, whatever,” Scratch said. “What do you delinquents want?”
“Welllll,” Misty began, “we heard you’re friends with a human girl.”
“A human girl with a brother,” Maxwell added.
“Those are lies!” Scratch protested. “Baseless rumors! Malicious fabrications!”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Misty said. “We’re not gonna tell anyone.”
“Not the Ghost Council, for sure,” Maxwell said.
Scratch knew a veiled threat when he heard one. But the kids’ tone suggested that there might be a carrot to go with the stick, so he played along.
“So let’s say,” Scratch replied, “strictly hypothetically, that I have a human friend, and that this completely hypothetical human friend has an equally hypothetical brother. What of it?”
“Well, it got us thinking,” Maxwell said. “It’s been a long time since we got to do any fun human stuff.”
“The kind of stuff you need a body for,” Misty elaborated.
His eyebrows lowering, Scratch replied, “I’m not sure I like where you’re going with this.”
“All we want,” Maxwell said, “is to possess your friends for one afternoon.”
Innocently, Misty added, “Just so we can remember what it was like to be alive.”
“Look, kids,” Scratch said, “I can’t really imagine a scenario where Mo- where my hypothetical friends just hand over their bodies to a couple of ghosts they’ve never met. Also, and more importantly, you haven’t said anything about what’s in this for me.”
Maxwell turned to his sister and said, “I guess it’s time to get to the good part, huh, Misty?”
“Oh, it’s definitely time, Maxwell,” the girl replied. Then they both turned back to Scratch.
“What if,” Maxwell said, “we could rig Brighton’s misery meter so it always shows maximum unhappiness?”
“Forever and ever,” Misty added. “Regardless of how miserable or happy the people of Brighton actually are.”
Scratch was glad that he had no ears, because if he had, they would have perked up and betrayed his great interest in the mere possibility that the kids’ offer was genuine. As it was, he managed to maintain an air of cynicism as he snorted and replied, “Oh, come on. Nobody can rig a misery meter.”
“We found a way,” Maxwell said. “If you don’t believe us, just ask Shady Sadie. She made us a couple of fake IDs-”
“-because even though we look young,” Misty interjected, “we’re way too old to live without booze and pornog-” Max interrupted her by elbowing her in the side. Then she finished, “I mean, to live without PG-13 movies.”
“And now,” Maxwell finished, “the misery meter for Okonohaw—the town Sadie haunts—has been at rock bottom for two weeks straight.”
“Even though Okonohaw is having its annual Linseed Oil Festival,” Misty added.
Scratch’s eyebrows rose. He’d seen Okonohaw’s meter a couple of days earlier, and the needle had indeed been deep in the blue zone. Not that he wouldn’t double check that before he agreed to anything; he’d learned his lesson about making bad deals from the “curse” he’d put on Molly. Or at least, he liked to think that he’d learned it.
“Let’s say I’m buying this,” Scratch said. Too excited to remember to keep his human friends hypothetical, he went on, “I’m still gonna have to get Molly and Darryl to sign on. Because if Molly opens her eyes and realizes that she can’t remember a whole afternoon, then she’s gonna tell her friend Libby, and then Libby’s gonna put on that trench coat of hers and investigate, and I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“I’m sure a smooth talker like you can get them to agree,” Misty replied.
“Just remember what’s at stake,” Maxwell added. “You’d be off the hook for scares and able to do whatever you want in Brighton. Forever.”
The kids floated away, leaving Scratch alone to consider things. He would have to give a great deal of thought to how he was going to approach Molly and Darryl about this, because it would not be an easy sell.
***
“Sure, Scratch, I’ll totally do it,” Molly said. She, Scratch, and Darryl had convened in her room.
Scratch blinked, not sure he’d heard right. “Wait, really?”
“If it gets you off the Ghost Council’s radar so you can help me enhappify Brighton without worrying about your monthly numbers or whatever, then heck yeah!” Molly replied. “And if some poor ghost girl gets to spend a few hours in my body remembering what it was like to be alive, that’s icing on the cake.” Remembering Libby’s idea at Brighton River, Molly snapped her fingers and said, “We’d be using one problem to solve another!”
“That’s great!” Scratch replied. “How ‘bout you, Darryl?”
Leaning back in Molly’s desk chair, Darryl replied, “Well, now, it depends. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t be allowed to go out and get, say, a sick tattoo of a black dragon on my left shoulder. But if some ghost possessed me and just happened to get that tattoo while he was in my body, Mom and Dad couldn’t blame me for that, could they?”
“That is absolutely true,” Scratch replied.
“Then I’m in,” Darryl said.
Molly gave Darryl a dubious look but decided not to worry. It wasn’t like Brighton’s one tattoo parlor was going to put ink on an eleven-year-old, regardless of who was in his body at the time.
“So, when are we doing this?” Molly asked. “The Wilderscouts project is done, and the rest of my day is wide open!”
“I’ve got a backlog of chores,” Darryl added. “But I could be a team player and put ‘em off another day.”
Suddenly, a swirling blue hole with a black center opened in the air above their heads, and Misty and Maxwell flew down through it and into the room.
“Well, that’s perfect!” Misty said.
“Yeah,” Maxwell agreed. “I mean, we’ve got nothing but time, but there’s no time like the present.”
Unfazed by the fact that these two new ghosts obviously had been listening in on their conversation, Molly looked at Misty and said, “Oh, wow, you’re really cute! I love your hair ribbons.”
“I’m cute?” Misty replied. “You’re adorable! Look at that face, and that sweet little body! You’re gonna look so good on me.” Molly grinned.
“S’up, bro?” Darryl said to Maxwell.
Maxwell smiled and looked Darryl over. “Hey, bud. I think I can rock that bod.”
Darryl stood up and said, “Well hop on in, dude.” Lowering his voice, he added, “Remember: black dragon, left shoulder.” Maxwell pointed his index finger at Darryl and winked.
“Yeah, let’s do it!” Molly said to Misty, standing up and holding her arms out from her sides.
The two ghosts flew into the kids’ bodies. Maxwell-as-Darryl then took a step forward and began stumbling around the room.
“Whoa, okay, it’s been a while,” Maxwell said, his voice sounding like Darryl’s but with hints of his own. “I kinda forgot how to operate one of these things.”
Misty, now in Molly’s body, flailed her arms wildly for a moment and then fell backward onto the bed.
“Yeah,” she said, “I’m gonna need a minute. Having legs again is weird.”
Ha! Noobs, Scratch thought.
He watched with amusement as the kids got used to their borrowed bodies. It took a few more minutes before both of them were able to walk more or less normally.
“So,” Scratch said, “now that you kids have got your sea legs—or land legs, I guess—what do you want to do first? Go to the park? Play some hopscotch? Eat candy till you puke?”
“Nah,” Maxwell replied in both his own voice and Darryl’s as he looked at Misty in what Scratch thought was a rather non-brotherly way. “We did all that stuff when we were alive.”
“Yeah,” Misty replied, giving Maxwell that same look. “We’ve got new stuff we wanna try.”
Maxwell then turned to Scratch. “You might want to go find something to do for the next few hours.”
“Forget it,” Scratch replied. “For all I know, you two are gonna hijack those bodies and be halfway to Mexico by the time I get back. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Okay, then,” Maxwell said.
“Don’t forget: We warned you,” Misty added.
The siblings turned back to each other. Then they kissed, slowly and romantically.
“Whoa whoa whoa!” Scratch shouted, holding up his palms. “What the heck are you doing?!”
Maxwell, still holding Misty close, turned his head toward Scratch and replied with a sinister smile, “If you don’t know, you’ve been dead way too long.” Then he slid a hand down and squeezed Misty’s butt—really, Molly’s butt—and Misty giggled.
“We loved doing this when we were alive,” Misty added. “But we died before we got the chance to go as far as we wanted to.”
She slid her hand down Maxwell/Darryl’s stomach and cupped his package through his pants as she added, “Now that we’ve got these fun bodies to play with, we wanna do it all.”
Misty slipped off Molly’s blue-denim vest, and Maxwell put his hands to her chest, giving Molly’s just-budding breasts a little squeeze through Molly’s white T-shirt. Maxwell grinned like a fool and then kept fondling her as they made out.
“This is insane!” Scratch cried. “Molly and Darryl would not be okay with this!”
“Well,” Maxwell replied, breaking off the kiss and starting to pull up Molly’s T-shirt by its black-trimmed hem, “they don’t have to know, do they?”
“It’s not gonna hurt them any,” Misty added as she raised her arms to let her brother pull her top up and off. “I don’t think.”
Molly wasn’t shy around Scratch—up in her room, she sometimes would blithely whip her top off before Scratch could look away—so he’d seen her in her training bra before. But that didn’t make seeing her in it now any more comfortable, especially when Maxwell used Darryl’s hands to feel her up through it.
“Mmmm, Maxy,” Misty said happily, sitting down on the bed. “Do that thing I always used to like.”
“Oh, I sure will,” Maxwell replied eagerly.
Misty held up her arms, and Maxwell peeled the elastic training bra up and off of her. Scratch covered his eyes—forgetting for the umpteenth time that this was pointless because he could see through both his eyelids and his hands.
As Maxwell took off his shirt, Misty lay back on Molly’s bed. Then Maxwell lowered his face to her chest and started kissing, licking, and sucking her little breasts. Misty moaned and put her arms around Maxwell’s head at about the time that Scratch finally thought to actually turn his back to the two siblings and look away.
“Seriously, you two!” he cried, facing the wall. “Isn’t there some other way you’d rather abuse those bodies? Maybe some extreme sports? How about eating an entire pizza? Oh, and there’s that tattoo Darryl’s been wanting to get-”
“If you’re going to keep bugging us,” Misty interrupted, “then the deal is off.”
Maxwell added, “And you won’t be—what was it, ‘enhappifying’?—anything.”
Scratch tried to wrap his mind around the dilemma he now faced, and to think of what Molly would want him to do about it. On the one hand, he doubted very much that she would be cool with what Misty and Maxwell were doing with her and Darryl’s bodies. On the other hand, Scratch not having to make Brighton miserable anymore was clearly important to her. Would Molly be willing to make this one-time sacrifice in exchange for years of unfettered enhappification?
Um, I guess so? he thought.
***
Molly wasn’t consciously aware of what was going on with her body. Really, she wasn’t consciously aware of anything at all. She had no coherent thoughts, and there was no input from her five senses to perceive, or any awareness of the passage of time.
What Molly did have was a feeling. Had she been able to think in words, she would have described it as nice, or more than nice. Good. Great. Exciting. Compelling. It was a little like the feeling she would get upon eating the first chip in the bag: the pleasure of tasting it and feeling it crunch between her teeth combined with the anticipation of eating two dozen more. But this feeling was considerably more powerful. It might even have been overwhelming, if she’d had a consciousness to overwhelm.
***
Scratch, still facing the wall, thought this situation couldn’t get any worse. Then he heard a car pull into the driveway. The sounds of knocking pistons and rattling body panels were unmistakable: It was the McGee family station wagon. Which meant that Molly and Darryl’s parents were home.
“Aw jeez,” Scratch said desperately to no one. “I gotta keep ‘em from seeing this. I gotta keep ‘em from hearing this!”
He zipped straight down through the floor and the floor below that, then screeched to a halt in the front hallway of the house. Sharon McGee was just opening the front door, a paper bag of groceries in her arm. Pete was right behind her with two more such bags.
“Heyyyyy, McGees, welcome home!” Scratch said loudly. “How ‘bout I help you with those groceries? You just keep bringing ‘em here to the door, and I’ll take ‘em to the kitchen and put ‘em away!”
“My, Scratch,” Sharon said, putting her free hand on her broad hip. “That’s…uncharacteristically helpful of you.”
“This way,” Scratch replied rapidly, “you won’t track anything into the house, including the downstairs bathroom, which I would have to clean up! So it’s enlightened self-interest, or something.”
Quirking an eyebrow at Scratch, Pete said, “It hasn’t rained in a week. What would we be tracking in?”
“Oh, you know, dust, dirt, ants,” Scratch replied. Then he looked pointedly at Pete and added, “Centipedes…”
“Centipedes?! Where!?” Pete cried, looking frantically at his pant legs.
Scratch took the grocery bags out of Sharon’s hands and headed to the kitchen. Not too quickly, of course.
***
Molly’s simultaneous feelings of satisfaction and of craving more satisfaction were growing stronger. In her current state of semi-consciousness, she had no ability to speculate about the reason for these feelings, but even if she had, she never would have guessed that they were due to the way her fully naked brother—or Maxwell in her brother’s fully naked body—was now eagerly fingering her fully naked self’s pussy, which had all of two pubic hairs and was otherwise only partway through the process of developing from a simple slit into an adult vagina.
Yet, as her body’s arousal grew, so did her perception of her body. Now, she was aware that her hand was wrapped around something warm and firm, and that her eyes were focused on that something. And as her hand moved slowly up and down the fleshy cylinder, she dimly realized that it was a penis.
“This is even better than I remember,” Maxwell breathed.
“Yeah,” Misty panted. “But I wanna do more.”
“Oh hell yes,” Maxwell said. Then Misty lay back and spread her legs wide.
***
What am I gonna do now? Scratch thought as he carried another armload of groceries into the kitchen. The kids are a big enough problem, and now I have to deal with the adults, too? I can’t stall Sharon and Pete forever; sooner or later, they’re gonna figure out that I’m hiding something and come charging in here, and then Problem Two is going to run smack into Problem One and make everything a million times worse!
Scratch suddenly stopped and put a ghostly finger under his chin.
Wait a second, he thought. Didn’t Molly say something about using one problem to solve another one?
Suddenly inspired, Scratch dropped the grocery bags on the kitchen floor and raced straight up through two ceilings to appear in Molly’s room.
“Maxwell! Misty!” he shouted, then rapidly turned away as he saw that both Molly and Darryl’s bodies were stark naked, with Darryl on top of Molly. The boy was adjusting his position to put his hips right between his sister’s open thighs, and using his hand to do something down there that Scratch did not need to see the details of.
Maxwell raised his head and growled, “We told you not to bother us, Scratch.”
“Or else the deal’s off,” Misty snarled.
“I’m here to make you a better deal!” Scratch cried. “I mean, if you want to do this really grown-up thing, wouldn’t it be more fun to do it in grown-up bodies?”
“Oh, and you just happen to have a couple of adult bodies on hand?” Maxwell retorted.
“Yup! Right downstairs!” Scratch said.
“Is this some kind of trick?” Misty demanded.
“No trick,” Scratch replied, raising his palms. “Just go downstairs and check ‘em out. If you don’t like ‘em, you can come right back and pick up where you left off with these two.”
“Okay, fine,” Maxwell said.
He zipped out of Darryl’s body, and Misty fled Molly’s. Scratch took off after them—partly because he wanted to make sure the ghost-kids actually gave the alternative bodies a try, and partly because Scratch really didn’t want to be there for the Q&A session when Molly and Darryl found themselves naked together in Molly’s bed.
Apparently, Pete and Sharon had gone into the kitchen the moment they heard the grocery bags hit the floor, and now they were cleaning up a dozen broken eggs. They straightened up abruptly when Misty and Maxwell plunged down into their bodies.
“All right,” Misty said in Sharon’s voice, “let’s see what we’ve got to work with, here.”
Misty and Maxwell quickly stripped naked in their new host bodies.
“Whoa-ho!” Maxwell exclaimed, pointing at Sharon’s chest. “Those are some serious titties!” He went around behind her and added, “And you’ve got ass for days!”
Pointing at Maxwell’s growing erection, Misty cried, “And your dick is way bigger! Ohhh, switching to these bodies was a good move.”
“Told ya you’d like ‘em!” Scratch said, immensely relieved.
Ignoring Scratch, Maxwell approached his sister and then patted the edge of the kitchen table.
“You know what else would be a good move?” he asked suggestively. “Sitting that fine ass right here.”
Eagerly, Misty hopped up onto the table. Then she opened her thick thighs so that Maxwell could move between them and kiss her, fondling her plump breasts as he did so.
***
Upstairs, Molly opened her eyes and was beyond shocked to find herself lying on her bed in a nude embrace with her little brother. But her astonishment was overwhelmed by a far more powerful feeling: need.
Keeping her arms around Darryl, she pulled his body fully down onto hers and kissed him. As their lips pressed together, her hand found the hard rod of flesh down between Daryl’s thighs and closed around it as she finished the kiss.
Darryl, having awakened intensely horny yet deeply confused, pulled his face away from his sister’s and looked down at where Molly’s hand was slowly moving up and down his cock.
“What- What are you doing?” the boy gasped.
“Darryl,” Molly replied breathily, “we can talk, or we can do this. Not both.”
Darryl shut his mouth tight, and Molly stroked his painfully hard cock with her soft hand. Then, biting his lip, he put both hands on her budding little breasts and squeezed them gently, staring at them even as he touched them.
Molly loved that, but she also desperately needed more. She lay back and used one arm to pull Darryl down on top of her; then, still holding Darryl’s cock in her other hand, she put the head of it between the slick folds of her sex and settled it against the little hole that was the way inside. Not long ago, she’d put a carrot up there (she’d considered using a turnip before her good sense overcame her civic pride), but doing it with a real penis seemed a thousand times more exciting, regardless of whose penis it was.
***
Downstairs, things were heating up fast. Maxwell and Misty, in Pete and Sharon’s bodies, were making out like crazy, and Maxwell’s cock was hard as a rock against Misty’s thigh. Misty broke off their kiss, gasping, and put her lips to Maxwell’s ear.
“Put it in, Maxwell,” she panted. “I’ve been waiting decades for this.”
“Oh hell to the yes,” the boy gasped.
He grasped the base of his cock and put it between the hot, wet folds of Misty’s black-haired pussy. Misty put her hand over Max’s and helped him position his cockhead against her entrance.
“Do it, Maxy,” she breathed.
Maxwell pushed in, and both siblings cried out with the intense pleasure of penetration. Maxwell couldn’t believe how hot and wet and tight Misty was inside, and Misty couldn’t believe how good it felt to be filled by Maxwell’s thick, eager cock. She wrapped her chubby legs around his hips, momentarily squeezing him against her such as to get every last millimeter of his cock inside her. Then she loosened her grip just enough to let Maxwell make the motions she wanted him to make.
“Fuck me,” she breathed.
Maxwell couldn’t have been more eager to oblige. He started pumping his cock slowly inside his sister’s borrowed pussy, and both of them moaned in pleasure.
***
The moment Darryl pushed his cock inside her, Molly felt a thrill like nothing she’d ever experienced. It was as though she were doing something she’d been looking forward to her whole life without quite knowing that she’d been looking forward to it.
Likewise, Darryl felt like he’d just found buried treasure without even looking for it. The sensation of Molly’s hot, tight love tunnel around his short but precociously girthy preteen member felt so good that he didn’t even have to think about how to make it feel even better; he just started pushing in and out and back in again, and every push and pull brought a jolt of exquisite pleasure.
“Yes…” Molly breathed, not even meaning to say the word out loud but unable to help herself. “Yes…yes…yes…”
Darryl didn’t speak—partly because he didn’t want to risk ruining this perfect moment, partly because he feared that this was all a dream and he didn’t want to wake himself up, and partly because he couldn’t bring himself to focus on anything but how amazing his cock felt moving inside Molly. So he kept his mouth shut and went on pumping.
***
“Oh…God…Misty…” Maxwell said, fucking his sister hard with Pete’s cock and watching Sharon’s substantial breasts bounce with every shove. “I’m…getting…close…”
“Me too!” Misty cried. “Fuck me harder!”
Maxwell pounded Sharon’s pussy, and then he cried out “AAAAAAAH!” as he shot a big load into her. And then Misty wrapped Sharon’s legs around Pete’s torso and screamed as she, too, came.
“That…was fucking…amazing…” Maxwell panted.
“Oh hell yes…” Misty gasped. “Let’s…do it…more…”
Maxwell took a second to get his breath back, then said, “Wanna try it the other way we talked about?”
Misty gave him a naughty smile and said, “Well, this is a kitchen. There’s got to be some cooking oil around.”
***
Molly now had a firm grip on her younger brother’s ass and was pulling his hips down against her thighs each time she thrust them upward to make sure she took his cock to the hilt again and again. The young teen couldn’t remember another moment in her life when she wanted anything as much as she wanted that cock to keep pumping inside her, to keep thrusting harder, and deeper, and faster.
Darryl pumped Molly as hard as his eleven-year-old body could possibly manage. An incredible feeling was growing down in his groin and spreading everywhere, shooting tendrils of intense tingling pleasure throughout his body. The pleasure was growing so strong that he felt like he was getting closer and closer to exploding.
Molly could hear her brother panting harder, grunting louder, and she knew what was coming and wanted it desperately.
“Yes! Yes! YES!” she cried. “AaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAH!”
“YAAAAAAAAAAH!” Darryl hollered, feeling his cum shoot from someplace deep inside him into a place deep inside Molly, which somehow made his orgasm all the more powerful.
***
Misty-as-Sharon was now leaning over the kitchen table. Maxwell-as-Pete was holding her broad ass in both hands as he pumped his cock in her asshole.
“Oooo, yesssss…” Misty moaned. “This is just as good as I hoped it would be…”
“Oh fuck yes,” Maxwell agreed. “Your hole is so tight around my cock…I just wanna fuck it forever…”
“Oh, but you can’t fuck it forever, Maxy,” Misty purred. “‘Cause sooner or later, you’re gonna hafta pump all your hot cum way up in my ass…”
“Aw, fuck, Sis,” Maxwell breathed, starting to pump faster. “That first time really took the edge off…but you just put it right back on…”
Breathing harder, Misty replied, “Don’t you worry about that, Maxy…You can take the edge off all you want…as long as you keep doing it inside me…”
Maxwell fucked her even faster.
***
Darryl rolled off of Molly, panting for breath. Molly was panting, too, but even so, she rolled on top of Darryl and gasped one word.
“More.”
“Okay,” Darryl breathed.
***
Some time later, Pete McGee opened his eyes to find himself cuddled up with his wife on the kitchen table.
“Hey, hon,” he murmured warmly.
“Hi,” Sharon replied with a goofy smile. “I have no idea why we’re naked in the kitchen.”
Dreamily, Pete replied, “Me neither. What have we been doing for the past two hours?”
“I don’t know. But I feel very relaxed.”
“Me too. Although my lower back is acting up a little.”
Sharon nodded slowly. “And my butt feels strangely sore.”
“Well,” Pete said, “I guess we’d better go get cleaned up before the kids see us.”
“Good point. Their innocent little eyes aren’t ready for this.”
***
Molly was awakened by the sensation of something moving beneath her. She opened her eyes and discovered that it was Darryl. The naked, sticky boy’s eyes were bleary, suggesting that he too had only just woken up.
“Hey,” the boy said.
“Hi,” Molly replied.
She hadn’t meant to fall asleep. She would much rather have repeated that intense, utterly pleasurable act with Darryl about a zillion more times. But when she glanced at the clock, she knew that she didn’t dare ask her brother for more, because their mom or dad might come up the ladder and discover them at any moment.
As Molly climbed off of Darryl, she noticed something unusual. “What’s that bandage on your left shoulder?” she asked, pointing.
Darryl looked, then gasped excitedly and ripped the bandage off. There on his shoulder was a stylized black dragon.
“Yes!” Darryl cried. Then he leaped up and said, “I’m gonna go look at it in the bathroom mirror!” before throwing open the trap door, climbing rapidly down the ladder, and running for the hallway bathroom, still buck naked.
Molly blinked her wide eyes. “When-? How-?” Then she shouted, “SCRATCH!”
Thusly summoned, Scratch sprang up through the floorboards. He figured he’d better start explaining things before Molly could ask any questions he might not want to answer.
“Molly, I had no idea what those kids were planning to do with your and Darryl’s bodies,” he said quickly.
“Forget about that! How could you let Darryl go to a tattoo parlor?!” Molly demanded.
Relieved that the discussion had turned in this direction, Scratch chuckled and said, “Oh, Darryl didn’t go anywhere. Just wait a second.”
Moments later, they heard the downstairs shower turn on. Then they heard Darryl shout, “Aw, what? Come on!”
“He didn’t get a tattoo,” Scratch explained. “When I found you guys asleep, I drew that dragon on him with a marker. His ‘tattoo’ is running down the drain as we speak.”
“Scratch!” Molly exclaimed, “That’s not nice.” But she couldn’t help giggling and added, “Who am I kidding, it’s hilarious.”
Scratch laughed with her. Then Molly’s expression grew awkward.
“Um, did you see any of…what happened here?” the girl asked.
“Not much,” Scratch answered truthfully.
Once Misty and Maxwell had gotten going in Sharon and Pete’s bodies, Scratch had zipped back upstairs only to find that Molly and Darryl were going at it despite no longer being possessed. Scratch hadn’t wanted to stick around for any of that, so he’d bugged off to town and tried to push all thoughts of Molly’s incestuous activities out of his mind for a couple of hours. Scavenging discarded jalapeños from the dumpster behind El Coyote Flaco, Brighton’s one Mexican restaurant, had done the trick.
“Don’t worry, Mol,” Scratch went on. “I’m happy to pretend this whole mess never happened. And at least all those…feelings…are out of your system now.”
“Oh, yeah, totally,” Molly replied. “Totally out of my system.”
She turned her head and gazed sightlessly out the window as she repeated, “Totally, totally, totally…”
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