The System
They shouldn't be doing this, and he knew it. Their "parents" or "gaurdians" or whatever would blame it on the system later when they found them. Oh yes, they would blame it on the system that had chewed the two of them up and spat them back out like bad candy. The "mother" would cry and the "father" would get angry and then compassionate and they would both wind up in therapy. As if they didn't already need it.
Neither of them were thinking about this now though, they were too drunk too think about anything. Well they were thinking about something, something they should not do. It was too late now though. Their "parents" were out of town all weekend, it was only friday night.
They stumbled over what was left of the party of misfits. There were empty pizza boxes, napkins and plates, the best china dishes smashed, and red plastic cups. Cups that they had all felt really cool holding and drinking from because what they were drinking made them really cool. They would just blame it on the system later.
There were bodies on the ground too, passed out, unrecognizable to drunken eyes. She stopped at the foot of the stairs and laughed at the sight. He walked back down a few steps and laughed too, so high he felt like he could touch the stars. He just wanted to touch her though. He pulled her against him and kissed the back of her neck. She giggled and sent her hand searching for something that made him tense up when she found it. He was getting harder and his body ached for her. After all of these years and all of the sexual tension the ice was finally going to break.
They would blame the system, and the abuse, and the people who hurt them when they were so young and impressionable. That's what they would do when the people at church told them it was wrong, and the people in court, and the people at school, and the people they should consider family but couldn't because the system made it so they couldn't believe in family anymore. To them it wasn't wrong, it was so right. Only the law considered them brother and sister.
They where in a room now, the only empty one they could find. It was their house but they weren't really sure what room they were in. It had a bed so nothing else mattered. She was wearing a dress which he easily unzipped to reveal a red lacy ensemble. She pushed him into a chair as she pulled her hair out. His mind raced back to what had led to this. The music, the dancing, the heat, the drugs, the red plastic cups. Somebody turned the music on downstairs and she moved to the beat. She was high too.
He would never admit he was scared out of his mind. He would never admit he was still a virgin either. He was supposed to be tough, solid, and strong. Really though, the system had crushed his soul and made him weak. He used his good looks to hide that though, and drugs.
Now he was pushing her onto the bed and under the covers; the red lacy ensemble now on the floor, along with his clothes. He was shaking as he pressed his lips to hers and thrust harder and harder. He was still scared, scared he was doing something wrong, or hurting her. She was moaning and arching and things where starting to feel good, really good. He moaned too and wasn't sure if he was supposed to. He was sweating now, so was she. The sun was peeking up over the horizon, but they weren't stopping. They couldn't stop.
"Steve!" she yelled, but he knew it was in a good way. He moaned again and was still shaking. She wrapped her arms around him; she was the strong one.
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Everyone was gone now. They weren't high anymore. The house was clean. Their "parents" or "gaurdians" or whatever would be home soon. It was Sunday night. They hadn't been able to keep away from each other all weekend.
They would blame it on the system when their "parents" walked in found them naked in their bed. There would be screaming and crying and hatred and pleas. He didn't care though, and he knew she didn't either. He knew she didn't care because otherwise she would have sat next to him without moving like the world wanted her too, like the system hadn't corrupted her. It had corrupted them both. They would never be okay, except when they were with each other. The system would probably destroy that too, pull them apart. Then there would be nothing left.
She unzipped his pants. Her hands were cold. He leaned his head back on the couch and closed his eyes. She stood up and he was alert that she wasn't near him. She had grabbed the bottle they had found hidded under their "parent's" bed and the two half empty glasses. He took his and finished it off.
He followed her up the stairs to their "parent's" room. The bottle and the empty glasses where on the bed night stand. He ripped both of their clothes away. They where exposed and ready. Ready to give in to eachother, because it was the only thing that felt good anymore.
"I love you." He said in all honesty once they were under the covers. Then he thrusted, agian, and again, and again. Harder every minute. She moaned and moaned and now he wasn't shaking. They heard the door swing open and familiar voices, they moaned louder for dramatic effect. She gripped the sheets leaving sweaty wrinkles. Some of it was for show, but he was thrusting even harder now. She arched towards him, eyes rolling to the back of her head. Footsteps were on the stairs now, mumbles could be heard.
As much as they were afraid of being torn apart, of the screaming and the crying; they craved for what would happen when they were discovered. They system had twisted them so much they where hardly recognizable. They wanted their "parents" to find them naked and inside each other. They wanted the screaming and the crying. They would blame the system when therapy didn't help.
Her fingers where digging into his back now as voices could be heard outside the door. A knock, they moaned and he thrusted. His large build made him afraid he was crushing her petite frame. She liked the feeling though, and he did too. The feeling was too good to stop, even though every muscle in his body was flexed and aching and bulging. She arched more and moaned more as a second knock was heard. They were both rushing with adrenaline and their orgasms felt so good. She started screaming and the knocking became louder and faster, faster like his thrusting. She screamed, screamed his name. Their hearts raced as they heard the click of the locked being unlocked. More screaming, more thrusting.
She would probably cut herself later when she was alone, after all the screaming and crying. He couldn't stop her because it would make him a hypocryte. He cut too, mostly because he wanted her. Now he would cut himself because she cut herself. We can't all be leaders. She told him she cut herself because it was the only pain she could control. They would just blame the system.
