Au Naturel: A Family's Mess

Bishop faltered, his voice catching in his throat. "Well… we… I was just…" He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes darting toward the ceiling as if an excuse might be written there.

Crossing her arms, she narrowed her eyes further. It was exactly what it looked like, she thought, her tone laced with irritation. "Why the hell is a naked guy in your room, and why is there CUM fucking EVERYWHERE??!!"

Standing like a sentinel in the doorway, arms locked firmly on her hips, her posture radiated impatience. "I'm waiting," she said, her voice low and edged with a simmering mix of irritation and suspicion.

Her sharp gaze slid past him, locking onto the bizarre tableau in his bedroom. A naked man lounged on Bishop's rumpled bed, his wiry frame sprawled shamelessly, sporting a prominent erection that seemed almost defiant in the dim light. The floor was a disaster—semen streaked across the hardwood in glistening arcs, pooling near a crumpled T-shirt and a half-empty energy drink can. Bishop caught her staring and stammered, "I'm not gay, sis… I swear!" His voice cracked, desperation seeping through as he waved his hands like he could erase the scene.

His sister's lips twitched into a smirk, her eyes glinting with disbelief. "RIIIIIGHT," she drawled, dragging the word out with a sarcasm so thick it practically dripped.

Chad, still completely naked and slouched against the wall with one hand casually resting on his hip, shrugged as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Just tell her the truth, dude… it's easier." He flashed a lopsided grin, completely unfazed by the unfolding drama, as if he'd seen worse in this apartment.

Bishop shot Chad a withering glance, his jaw tightening. "Fine," he snapped, then turned to Kerry, his tone defensive. "But I don't know why it's any of your business, Kerry."

Chad's thoughts scrambled for a moment as he processed the situation. So this is Kerry, Bishop's sister? Huh. I wonder if she was at the same academy as us. She looked younger than Bishop but had that older-sister bossiness dialled up to eleven. His gaze drifted briefly, almost involuntarily, to the way her tank top clung to her braless chest, the faint outline of her nipples pressing against the thin fabric in the cool room. He quickly snapped his attention back to her angry face, trying to place her. I don't recognise her boobs or her face, though.

Her patience snapped like a frayed guitar string. "Tell me now!" she roared, her voice surging into a furious crescendo. "I'm not budging until you explain why your room's a jizz-coated disaster, there's a naked dude with a raging hard-on just lounging here, and... oh, right, why the fuck are you sending his dick pics to my cloud?" Her hands slashed through the air, punctuating the chaos, her face a wildfire of fury and disbelief.

Bishop flinched and, in a rush, blurted out, "I've got a girlfriend!" The words spilt from him like a lifeline, his voice loud and frantic, as if shouting them could drown out any doubt about his sexuality.

Her eyes narrowed as she said, "You lying sack of shit! What girl would date you? You pissed the bed 'til you were 12! Don't think I've forgotten that Naruto headband fiasco at 14… stuck in your greasy hair all day, yanking at it by the lockers while everyone snickered. Or that Sailor Moon marathon when you popped a boner mid-episode, squirming under a pillow like we wouldn't notice. And the anime con? Fainting at your first cosplay girl sighting—carried out like a limp noodle! Oh, and your Dragon Ball Z meltdown over that 'bootleg' Goku figure—sobbing to customer service for hours. You're a walking disaster."

"Stop… You're humiliating me… in front of Chadwick."

Kerry glanced at the man, her gaze sliding over him.

"Oh, Chadwick, huh? Is that his name?" She muttered, almost distracted.

Then—her eyes locked onto him—him being fully naked, his penis shamelessly erect—and her jaw dropped.

"Holly... shit. This man is... insanely hot. How the hell is your friend this fucking sexy?!"

She whipped around, flustered, looking back and forth between him and Bishop.

"You... owe me an explanation. Like, why are you this fucking gorgeous?!"

Chadwick blinked at her, caught off guard.

"Uh… I don't know—good genes, I guess? I'm as confused as you are!"

He nervously laughed.

Then thought—Google it, maybe?

He didn't bother with Google anymore.

Ask Jeeves might've been better, he thought, then wondered if that relic still existed.

I vaguely remember asking it about my waifu's bra size once, only to get a useless response.

Total trash that website is. Butlers? The best place for them is locked inside a walk-in meat freezer.

She dragged her gaze up and down, lips curling.

"What jeans? You are… not…"

A breathy chuckle escaped.

"…wearing any jeans… or anything at all, good lookin'."

With a playful nod, she pointed at Chad's throbbing erection before turning to Bishop with a wicked grin.

"Now this is what a dick should look like… not that crushed, slug-lookin', mangled little disaster you're packin' down there!"

"You haven't seen it in years… You wouldn't recognise it now," Bishop muttered under his breath, his voice a faint rasp.

"It's grown a lot."

Not that Sister seemed to care.

Her attention was locked onto Chad, completely ignoring Bishop. Her eyes never wavered from Chadwick's exposed body, tracing every inch with an unsettling focus. She wasn't even trying to be subtle about it. Chadwick, meanwhile, was all too aware of her staring. He could feel her gaze burning into him, and at this point, there was no point in hiding anything—she had already seen it all.

Bishop's patience snapped. Annoyance surged through him as he glared at his sister, his frustration mounting. "Chad… I've got all the photos I need. Time to go. Get dressed. I'll give you your reward later," he snapped, unable to hide his irritation at his sister blatantly staring at Chadwick's dick.

Kerry didn't flinch. Her eyes drilled into Chadwick's cock, head tilted like she was sizing up some twisted-ass art piece. "Hold the fuck up," she snarled, voice sharp as a razor, pissed and ready to shred someone. "Why the hell did you take nude photos of him with a cum-dripping erection?" She didn't spare Bishop a damn glance—her gaze was locked onto Chad, full of lust.

Bishop froze, fumbling. "Uhhh…" His voice died, pathetic…

Chadwick always turned into a stammering mess when a girl's eyes met his—palms sweating, throat locking up, feeling like bolting. But now, with Kerry's gaze focused solely on his dick, he finally found the courage to speak. He was still nervous to say what needed to be said, but he could at least force words out without feeling like his chest might implode.

"Look... Bishop asked me for nude photos to send to his internet girlfriend. He said she'd only send him nudes... pics of her tits... in exchange for mine... And apparently, she wanted to pleasure herself with them or something... It started as just me posing nude for his photoshoot... but then I started picturing my anime waifu... those perfect curves, her eyes, and her tits... and, fuck, I lost it. Jizzed everywhere... right before the shoot."

Frantic now, Bishop interrupted, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Yeah, that's it! We're not gay… Chad's got his anime waifu pillow to keep him company, and I've got my internet girlfriend who sends me nudes. She's only willing to share those pics if Chad sends some of his too, you know? It's just... the deal we've got between us, bros. No big deal, really."

Kerry's eyes flicked to Bishop, cold and calculating, a look that made his stomach drop. Her lips curled into a slow, deliberate nod, her expression unreadable. The silence that followed stretched out, heavy with unspoken tension, until she spoke, her voice sharp as a knife, "Okay… but I'm telling Mom, the whole fucking family, and EVERYONE else! Unless…" The threat hung in the air, thick and suffocating.

Her gaze had borne into Chadwick's dick, her eyes narrowing with a predatory intensity, as if she had been memorising every vulnerable inch of his naked frame. He had stood rigid amid the disarray of Bishop's cluttered room, stripped bare and floundering, his mind a chaotic scramble for some semblance of control. But his eyes had betrayed him, slipping downward—almost against his will—to her chest. She had loomed before him, her braless tank top stretched taut across her torso, clinging to every curve like a possessive grip. The thin fabric had moulded to the swell of her breasts, the hard outlines of her nipples pressing brazenly against it, radiating a confidence that had hit him like a shockwave. His dick had twitched sharply, a jolt.

Her stare sharpened, honed in on the glistening pre-cum that dripped from him as he gawked, caught in her web. She knew the cause—his gaze had latched onto her braless breasts, ensnared by the way they strained against the fabric. His excitement crackled in the air, a live wire she could feel thrumming between them, and she savoured it. A slow, confident smile crept across her lips, deliberate and ironclad. This was her signal, a brazen green light to seize command. She had no doubts—Chad was hers, utterly ensnared.

Then she looked at Bishop, her eyes blazing with lethal intent as her voice dropped to a razor's edge. "… You take fucking photos of me with Chadwick right now! He's not leaving this room until I get my goddamn pictures! And if you don't?" She leaned in, her tone venomous. "Say goodbye to your little secret…because I'll make sure the whole fucking world knows!"

Chadwick's eyes dropped to the floor, his mind reeling from the sudden demand. His thoughts churned, a storm of shock and reluctant curiosity flickering across his face as he stood there, still bare, still trapped.

Bishop swallowed hard, his throat bobbing as he forced out a shaky question. "Why the hell do you want photos of Chadwick?"

She sighed, casting a disgusted face, as she thought of all the bare patches on her bedroom walls where her old posters used to hang. "I need more pictures…. something worth looking at. I tore down all those One Direction posters ages ago… Those whiny, over-groomed pretty boys with their floppy hair and fake-ass charm got old fast. And don't get me started on BTS. I tried squeezing their posters up there, but they don't even fit right… too many of those scrawny femboys cluttering the frame with their ten layers of caked-on makeup, glittery eyeshadow, and those godawful bowl haircuts that look like someone plopped a soggy mop on their heads. They're all just preening little peacocks, lip-syncing their way through life, pretending they're deep while drowning in hairspray and skinny jeans. Pathetic."

She wrinkled her nose, as if the thought alone left a bad taste. "I'm done with that crap. I want a real man now—someone with grit, not a polished mannequin. I want pictures of Chadwick plastered all over my walls. Naked photos… raw, unfiltered, none of that airbrushed boy-band bullshit. Me and him together, right there beside him, owning every inch of that space. That's what I need!"