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For the first time since her parents’ death, Hannah felt safe and secure. Curled up in a near-fetal position in her secret place in the closet of the basement den, the eighteen-year-old listened to the faint sounds of the house—the clicks and rattles, the occasional thump of a pipe. She relaxed, at one with the near-silence. Hannah fell asleep.

The sound of footsteps woke her.

Instinctively, in a reflex from her childhood, she gripped the closet door from the inside and peered through the louvers. She was directly across from the door, and could see out, while no one could see in.

The door opened, her heart froze, and Angus stepped into the room.

Fear gripped her. Did he know about my secret place? she thought. Has he come for me? Is something wrong?

No, in a moment it was clear he didn’t know anyone else was in the room. Angus opened a drawer in a side table and pulled out a small bottle and a box of tissues.

Standing in front of the couch, he stretched like a cat, his arms thrown over his head, and started to undress. He kicked off his Docksiders, pulled his Henley tee over his muscular shoulders, and then pushed down his jeans. He turned, facing away, and Hannah saw that he wasn’t wearing undershorts. His muscular buttocks flexed as he kicked off the pants and leaned over.

The sight of Angus’ broad shoulders, sculpted back muscles and creamy ass cheeks sent a shiver down her spine. Although she had often admired his masculine form at the country club pool and at the beach, she had never seen him nude before.

Angus turned. He had picked up the bottle of lube and was pouring some into his hand.

Hannah’s gaze swept down his body. Angus’ pulsing cock stood at full attention, straining toward the ceiling, as he slowly applied a coating of the slick lube. She marveled at how his dick, easily six inches long and thick, stood straight against his belly, brushing the fine hairs that radiated up from his lush pubic bush. His hand moved slowly over his cock.

Then Hannah saw something she’d never seen before. As Angus moved his hand up his shaft, his dick head disappeared under a layer of veined skin. When his hand moved down, his throbbing cock head reappeared.

That, she thought to herself, must be his foreskin. And Jewish men are circumcised. And “Angus” isn’t a Jewish name.

For the first time since she heard the disturbing news about her legal relationship to Angus, the truth sunk in. The lawyer was right. Angus couldn’t be her brother. Although her experience with cocks was limited, Hannah was sure Angus had an uncut, Gentile penis. None of the other dicks she had seen and played with had a layer of skin that slid up over the head.

Angus faced the closet door, his legs apart, as he stroked himself to a full erection. His boner curved up against his flat midriff, the pink, oval crown now unhooded, the pale shaft long and slightly bent to one side. His left hand cupped his balls, and he gently pulled the egg-shaped glands out between his muscular thighs as he pumped his rigid member. His other hand worked the shaft and crown of his throbbing penis. At the top of the stroke, he swirled the palm of his hand over his cock head, then slid down the shaft, his hips bucking.

Hannah heard his breath deepen and speed up. At the same time, the tempo of his stroking increased, while his other hand tugged and pulled his scrotum. Angus spread his legs farther apart as he continued to work his throbbing dick. His face reddened and, in a sudden move, he fell back on the couch. He threw his legs even farther apart, giving Hannah an unimpaired view of his steadily swelling cock and the deep red crown of his dick head. Angus was beating off furiously, his knees in the air, feet thrashing, his brown rosebud of an asshole visible when he swirled his nutsack up around the base of his dick.

His balls had drawn tight against his body. No longer able to stretch his scrotum, his hand slipped behind his balls, where he probed his asshole with his forefinger, his legs waving wildly in the air. A stream of precum seeped out of his gaping pisshole. He slathered it over his straining cock as his hips bucked, lifting his ass off the couch.

It couldn’t last much longer. His orgasm couldn’t be far off. Angus’ powerful body was ready to explode off the couch as he furiously beat his meat and fucked himself in the ass with his forefinger.

His head thrashed from side to side as his chest heaved with the exertion. Hitting a new plateau, Angus leapt to his feet, faced the closet door, threw his head back and screamed. Thick ribbons of semen sprayed out of his dick head, spurting like buckshot across the room and splattering the louvers of the closet door. Hannah’s head reflexively jerked back. A glob of hot semen dribbled down a slat and dangled, less than two inches from her eyes. Without thinking, she scooped the warm jism with her finger and put it to her lips.

Salty. Warm. Pungent.

More jets of jism, not as intense as his initial spurts, splatted on the parquet floor. Angus staggered back on the couch, his hand milking the final drops of cum from his still-hard dick. His breathing slowed as both hands cupped and fondled his cock and balls, now returning to their natural color and size. He slathered his semen over his shaft and balls in a slow, circular motion.

As he relaxed, his fat cock head retreated inside his foreskin, giving the tip of his penis a reptilian look. Hannah could see the shape of his dick head through the thin layer of skin. Sated, Angus leaned back on the couch, his legs still splayed, and fondled his manhood, pulling his foreskin up and down over the head of his dick as he massaged his balls. Pulling a tissue from the box, he dabbed a few final drops of sperm from his now flaccid dick.

A few moments passed and he stood. Grabbing a wad of tissues, he turned toward the closet and began wiping up his mess. Hannah held her breath, her fingers gripping the inside of the door, as he wiped splooge from the slats of the louvers.

He turned and bent to wipe the floor, giving Hannah a full-on view of his pale, round ass cheeks, his plump, wrinkly scrotum and the winking bud of his asshole.

At the same moment that Hannah was swept by amazement—and an element of pride—in this magnificent display of unleashed manhood, a fluttering between her legs turned into a flood of warm wetness. Hannah caught herself before she could audibly gasp. Did I just pee myself?

Hannah watched as he meticulously wiped his ejaculate from the floor, wall and door, then put away the tissue and lube, and dressed. Hannah knew one thing as surely as she knew anything else in her short life. She was very happy that Angus was no longer her “brother.”

Hannah heard Angus’ footsteps on the stairs, pushed the closet door open and clambered down from the closet shelf. His man-musk was strong, the odor of his spunk and sweat filling her nostrils. She reached down inside her jeans and felt between her legs. She was soaked—and it wasn’t pee. She snaked a finger inside her folds and circled her hard nub. Oh, this is too delicious, she thought, sinking into the couch where Angus had just pleasured himself to a spectacular orgasm.

Hannah wriggled her jeans down around her ankles and pushed her thong aside. Her legs splayed like a whore, she attacked her swollen pussy with two fingers, while her other hand went to her right, and more erogenous, breast. Waves of pleasure washed over her as her fingers pinched and rolled her wet pussy lips. She moved up to her clit, and cried out. Her neurons jolted and the tingling moved up her abdomen, over her breasts, to her throat and out the top of her head. Her arousal was so powerful and unexpected that it bordered on painful.

Moving her fingers to her hungry, wet hole, she plunged them inside. She positioned her wrist so that she could massage her clit with her thumb while she fucked herself, fingers sliding two-knuckles deep inside her pussy. Hannah, now as aroused as she had ever been, sat with her legs spread wide, her other hand torturing her nipple.

With a gasp, she stiffened, threw her head back and came, her hips jerking up and down until she nearly slid off the sofa. Pussy juices ran down her wrist, and she could feel the wetness seeping down her crack and past her asshole, soaking the fabric of the furniture. All her attention was focused on the pulse beating incessantly in her pussy and ass.

Dope-brained from her orgasm, Hannah fell back on the sofa, both hands clasped between her legs, and felt the warmth radiate throughout her body. That was my best orgasm ever, she thought. And she couldn’t get the image out of her minds’ eye of Angus’ cock spewing fat threads of jism.

Then it hit her. Is this den also his secret place?