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"-And then, as the men take her away, Octavia looks back at her burning home. Here is where her need for revenge begins; with the ash of her childhood flying into the night sky. And they would all pay for what they did.... with their LIVES!" Bruno narrates as one of his rats’ squeaks in dramatic rage as she looks behind her to see a cardboard backdrop of a crudely drawn burning building. A group of rats then carry her off stage.
Mirabel fights a grin as Bruno pauses for dramatic effect with his head bowed.
He then suddenly shoots his head up, "AAAAAnnnnd fade to black. The words: 'to be continued' with a question mark- coz, you know, it adds to the tension- and then...scene. Please stay tuned! After this we have ‘Word Wheel’. Watch as 3 contestants compete to spin for the grand prize of-“ Bruno produces an arepa and grandly shows it off, “-Julieta’s famous arepas! One bite from this and the pain will just melt away! Now, a word from our sponsor.”
Bruno places the arepa on a plate and lets the rats act out an ad for cheese insurance.
Mirabel claps enthusiastically, "That was great! I now get why Octavia hates the Torres family so much. But what about her love for Leo? With him being the youngest son of the Torres family, I can’t see them lasting long.” She pauses as she really thinks about the recent plot developments, and then she’s jabbing her finger at Bruno in excitement as an idea pops into her head.
“Oooor- Or-! Leo gives up the family for her so they can run away to be together. Right? I’m right, right? Oh, but what would make Octavia give up revenge…?” She clutches her hair in frustration, and she cries out, “Bruno! You’re killing me here!”
Bruno smiles widely, and she senses some pride in the way he stands up straighter at her comments.
"Well, you'll just have to wait and see, now, won't you?"
She groans in frustration, "That's ages away, though!"
Bruno laughs, "You'll just have to be patient, kid." He then claps his hands and rubs them together, "Right, so after all those twists, I'm gonna need a drink. You want anything?"
"Yes, please. Just a water."
“Okay!”
He then turns to walk out his bedroom as she stands up. The blanket around her shoulders slides off of her and she hurriedly catches it with a sigh of relief before hits the floor. She starts folding it to leave it on Bruno’s bed, "Oh, and thanks for this."
Bruno turns back around, "Hm? Oh, that. It's all good. I have plenty."
Mirabel almost laughs. He had SO many blankets that it was almost ridiculous. Each time she came to his room for the telenovelas, a new one would be sitting there. She had no idea where the others kept disappearing to.
Bruno walks out and Mirabel walks over to Octavia.
“You’re doing so well. I’m a huge fan of your work.”
Octavia squeaks with pride and offers up a little hand. Mirabel giggles and gives her one of her fingers. Octavia ‘shakes’ her finger and then turns away to scamper behind the rat theatre. She pops back out with a small photo of herself with an inky paw print on the bottom and gives it to Mirabel.
Mirabel coos, “Aw, is this for me? I’ll treasure it.” She looks at the little photo and hums in thought. “I don’t know if I have a frame small enough for this, though.”
Octavia stands and places both paws on her hand to get her attention. When Mirabel gives it to her, the rat squeaks loudly and points off to the side.
Mirabel frowns for a moment and then brightens, “Oh! Bruno has some frames, doesn’t he?”
Octavia nods enthusiastically and jumps to the floor.
She supposes it made sense. He had to have made this photo, so it makes sense that there are mini frames too. Mirabel was always amazed at the level of creativity her tío had. Especially for his rats.
It was so cute.
She flushes with her own thoughts. She really needed to reign in her feelings for Bruno before they became too noticeable.
Octavia runs ahead, but then stops to look back at Mirabel to make sure she was following. Mirabel giggles, “I’m coming, I’m coming.”
They don’t go far as Octavia stops at a bookshelf in Bruno’s bedroom. Mirabel looks at the books in confusion, “Um. All I see are books. Are you sure this is where they are…?”
Octavia squeaks and rolls her beady eyes. She hops up the shelf until she presses her paw against a book titled; ‘Writer’s Friend: The Thesaurus’. Octavia looks back at Mirabel and squeaks forcefully.
“Ummm…okay?”
She didn’t really understand what Octavia was trying to say, and Mirabel was starting to think listening to a rat wasn’t a great idea. But Octavia was Bruno’s rat and his rats were smart, that she was sure of.
So, she uncertainly reaches her hand out, and Octavia moves out of her way as Mirabel touches the book. And nothing happens.
Mirabel sighs in frustration. What was it about this book that Octavia wanted to show her? Maybe… maybe the frames were hiding inside the book? Like one of those books with the insides of it cut out?
“Well, no harm in looking, right?”
Octavia squeaks excitedly as Mirabel starts to pull out the book.
Mirabel hears a click, and she gasps in shock as the bookshelf slightly pops out towards her. No way-! Did Tío Bruno have a hidden room behind his bookcase?! That’s so cool!
With curiosity and excitement coursing through her, she grabs the edge of the bookcase. She hesitates. Should she really be doing this? Bruno hid it for a reason, and everyone was entitled to their privacy. This was the man who lived secretly in the walls for 10 years, after all, maybe it was just a room to secretly relax in. A room where no one could disturb him.
And it couldn’t be that bad right? She would just not look too closely at what was behind there. Yeah. She’ll be in-and-out in seconds, especially with Octavia as her guide, and Bruno will keep his privacy.
Sort of.
But she really wanted the frame for her autographed photo. And if her insatiable curiosity was influencing her then, well, who was she to deny it’s pull?
With that thought in her mind, she pulls out the bookcase like she would with a door and walks inside.
Her mind grinds to a halt at what she sees.
Pictures. Of Mirabel. On the walls.
That’s a picture of Mirabel at her current age laughing.
That’s a picture of her when she was 5, smiling sweetly for the camera.
That’s a picture of 12-year-old Mirabel sleeping peacefully.
So many different pictures of her at all ages.
There’s even a whole wall with shelves dedicated to green future visions of an older Mirabel doing mundane things like washing the dishes, dancing, smiling at somebody out of sight.
Wherever she looks, she sees her past, her present, and her future.
Numbly, she looks at the bed in the middle of the room. The quilt cover was the gradient teal of her skirt with matching colourful embroidery, with purple tassels at the bottom. The pillows were the white of her blouse, outlined with the same black stitching she wears, and again, the matching rainbow assortment of her embroidery.
She looks at the colourful ‘Mirabel’ stitched with loopy ‘handwriting’ into the top of the quilt cover and thinks about how she had been recently teaching someone how to embroider for themselves.
Because they had asked.
She looks at a little soft doll of her likeness and thinks about how she taught that same person how to make dolls.
Because they had asked.
She looks at the mannequin made for dressmakers with an exact copy of her clothes and thinks about how she taught them how to make their own.
Because they had asked.
Moments they had happily laughed and joked together as Mirabel helped correct their mistakes, or praised their progress flash through her mind, and it mixes with what she’s currently seeing, and she doesn’t know how to feel.
She darts her eyes to a set of drawers. Mirabel stares at them for a moment. What was in them if all of this was out here in the open? Morbid curiosity gets the best of her as she stiffly walks to them and opens each of the drawers.
Inside each one was a labelled and organised catalogue of her things.
‘Mirabel’s toothbrushes’, ‘Mirabel’s hairbrushes’, ‘Mirabel’s written notes’, ‘Mirabel’s drawings’, ‘Mirabel’s scraped sewing projects’.
She finds a small container of her hair and thinks back to when her Tia Pepa had cut it. Someone had kindly volunteered to help clean up.
She finds a box full of blankets that she’s seen before with a label saying, ‘Blankets Mirabel has used’.
Numbly she thinks, ‘Oh. So, that’s where they went.’
In a trance, she notices the side tables next to each side of the bed. She distantly wonders what would be in those, so close to the bed and in easy reach. She goes to one of them and opens that draw too.
She finds two books.
One was a sketchbook full of drawings of her.
She was smiling, she was pouting, she was frowning.
She was smiling over her glasses. She was in revealing clothes with a sultry smile. She was naked with a blanket artfully covering her and looking up innocently.
Mixed emotions fill her, her mind a mess at each reveal of a drawing. She doesn’t know… doesn’t understand…
She shakes her head to clear her thoughts and reaches for the other book.
This book was a diary of sorts.
Some entries were simple:
‘Mirabel looked at me today and my heart couldn’t take it!’
‘Mirabel looks so beautiful playing with the kids in town.’
‘Mirabel brings a smile to everyone’s face. She’s so amazing!’
‘Mirabel helped organise the party tonight. She is going to be a wonderful leader one day.’
Some entries…weren’t:
‘Mirabel leaned over today, and I could see the shape of her backside through her skirt. I just want to squeeze her so badly.’
‘Mirabel and I went swimming today with the rest of the family. Her bathing suit showed all of her curves and I couldn’t stop staring.’
‘Mirabel danced today. I got to see a bit of her bloomers and her thighs when her skirt flipped up. I would love a pair to keep for myself but I’m too scared to cross that line.’
‘Mirabel complained about her body to Isabela today. I shouldn’t have heard it, but I did. I want to show her just how beautiful her body is. With my hands, with my lips, with my tongue…’
Her brain shuts off as she reads through this recent entry about her body being worshipped, and startles when she hears a rat squeak in frustration at her.
She looks at the rat holding a mini frame and remembers why she was here.
She remembers Bruno.
Her tío.
Mirabel’s face burns as she slams the book shut and shoves both books back into the side drawer. She picks an angry Octavia up and rushes out of the hidden room. Mirabel places Octavia on one of the shelves of the bookcase-door and then shuts it closed. She steps back and heaves air into her lungs.
She just needs to calm down. What she saw was… well, not nothing. It was definitely something.
Her mind aches with how much she can’t comprehend what she’s seen.
Unfortunately, she’s not given enough time to really sort out her feelings about it all when Bruno walks back in with two glasses of water.
“I’m back! And with the refreshments.” Bruno tries for a posh voice and maybe before she would have giggled at it, but now she just straightens up and gives him a too wide smile with too many teeth.
Bruno falters under the lack of response and puts down the glasses. He turns to then study her face. “W-what’s wrong? You’ve got that look on your face.”
Mirabel’s eyes dart around, finding it hard to look directly at Bruno as anxiety floods her. She hugs her stomach with one arm and brings her other hand up to wave away his words, “Pfft. Whaaat? It’s nothing. Everything’s fine. What face are you even talking about?”
Bruno brow furrows, “The face of you quietly freaking out and not wanting anyone to know.”
Mirabel’s mind goes blank. Does he know that because he cares about her, or because he’s some kind of obsessive stalker? She can’t tell, and that hurts.
Her brain kick starts again and all it says is ‘Don’t let him know what you’re freaking out about! Get him to stop asking anymore questions!’
So, Mirabel blurts out the one thing that she knows has made boys her age freeze and go away in the past, “Oh, it’s just my period! It’s giving me terrible cramps.”
Bruno startles, and she thinks it’s shut him up.
But then he moves closer to her in concern. "O-oh. Are you okay? If you were in that much pain, you didn't have to come here to watch the telenovela."
Mirabel opens her mouth, unsure what to say. Bruno stands in front of her, close enough to touch, but all he does is indicate with his head towards his chair with eyes full of worry, "Go sit down for now, but then I'll help you to your room, okay?"
All she can do is nod and stiffly walk to his red armchair and sit in it. She watches Bruno as he grabs the blanket she had been using before and throws it over her knees. Then he goes and gets the arepa that was to be the final prize of the game show, and the glass of water he had gotten her, and hands them to her.
His smile is awkward as he says, “Eat that and get some fluids into you.”
Bruno turns and starts muttering under his breath as he cleans up his rat theatre, giving Mirabel time to eat and drink in peace. She sips on her water and observes him as she thinks.
Bruno was as she knows him; nervous but kind.
In fact, even though she had seen some sexual pictures and words in his room with her as the main character, she was now noticing that he barely ever touches her. Not even to help guide her to the chair.
That before this strange revelation, she realised that the most touchy-feely thing Bruno has ever done was hold her hand or her arm, and his touch never lingered for too long.
It was something that she had considered just to be his shy and awkward demeanour, even as it would fiercely attack her insecurities that he just didn’t like her. Or secretly knew of her feelings and was just being nice by staying quiet by continuing to spend time with her.
Though, when Mirabel usually initiated any of the physical affection between the two of them, he would never protest, and he seemed secretly pleased by it. And, well, that encouraged her to keep it up. How else was she supposed to express her feelings for him without him figuring it out?
But even when he looked pleased, he never pushed for more from her.
She didn’t know how to feel. There was this Bruno who she knew and loved, but there was also the Bruno that lay hidden behind the bookcase.
She reasons that she needs all the information before she can make a judgement call on Bruno and the room. She is vaguely aware that she wasn’t being as cautious or as distraught as she should be in this situation, but she also can’t seem to figure out why that is.
Mirabel, needing something from him, asks, “You really do care about me, huh?”
He jolts and turns to look at her. He laughs nervously, “W-what? Of course, I do! You’re my sobrina. If this is about your period, then it’s okay, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about! I grew up with two sisters, who were both pretty honest about that stuff. Especially Pepa, even when she didn’t want to be. Her weather got crazy during the days on her period.”
He smiles warmly at her, “So, it’s fine, okay?”
She gives him a small smile and then she drops it when he goes back to cleaning and continues to think.
Mirabel thinks about the secret room. She thinks about the two books.
She thinks about lonely days of proving herself, of feeling like she wasn’t good enough. Of feeling overlooked, ignored, and unseen.
She looks at Bruno. She doesn’t see an evil obsessed man manipulating or forcing his way under her skirt. She sees kindness, and concern, and an awkward man trying his best.
Mirabel thinks about how he listens to her every word like each thing she said was precious. How he encourages her in anything she wanted to do.
How he thinks her a gift just by being herself.
She thinks about that room full of her, and suddenly she feels seen.
Like all of Bruno’s attention was on her and she didn’t have to fight tooth and nail for it. It was just hers.
That’s when she realises why she feels so weirdly calm about all of this. Why she wasn’t scared or creeped out at all.
It was because she loves it.
Mirabel was starved for attention, for validation, and Bruno gave her those things like a freshly homecooked meal every day since she’s met him two years ago. But now, she’s accidentally ripped away the curtain and found that the man had a feast prepared for her every night, and she knew he was too ashamed to share it with her.
And once you’ve seen the feast, how can you go back to the small simple meals of before?
Mirabel knocks back her water and puts the glass on the little table beside the armchair. She takes off the blanket from her knees and drapes it over her arm as she stands. She smiles, feeling some kind of mix of relief and giddiness. “Thanks, Tío Bruno! I feel much better. So, I think I can walk myself back to my room.”
Bruno worriedly studies her, “Are you sure? I don’t want you forcing yourself.”
“I’m absolutely sure. Oh, and here, you can have this back.” Mirabel offers him the blanket, and when his hand touches the fabric, she feels a weird thrill travel up her spine. This ordinary blanket was now somehow special to him, all because she touched it. Would he treasure this blanket just like the others? What else does he do with it?
She blinks away the thoughts as Bruno smiles, “Thanks. Now, get to bed, you. I remember Julieta was the type to be tired all week long on her period, so I have a feeling you’ll need all the sleep you can get.”
At this point, she didn’t know how to tell him that she wasn’t actually on her period, so she just smiles as she walks to his bedroom door and says, “Fine, fine, I’m going. Goodnight, Tío Bruno.”
His eyes meet hers and he smiles softly, “Goodnight.”
Mirabel shuts the door, and the last thing she sees is a lonely Bruno unconsciously clutching the blanket to his chest.
…
Mirabel would like to say she marched up to Bruno the very next day and demanded to know what was going on with that room of his.
But she didn't.
Instead, she let herself enjoy the secret thrill of... helping Bruno add to his collection without him realising it.
"Tío Bruno, my shoes just don't fit me anymore. Do you think I should throw them out? Oh? You'll take care of it and donate them to the church for someone else to wear? How thoughtful of you!"
"Tío Bruno, I've broken the strap to my bag! Maybe it could still work if I tied the broken strap into a knot... but no, you know what, I'll make myself a new one. Would you donate it to someone in need for me? You will? Thank you, tío!"
Then, when Bruno would leave la Casa Madrigal to go help his mother with the community every Friday afternoon, Mirabel would sneak into his room.
She would sneak into the secret room.
And there she would find her old shoes and her purposely broken bag sitting with the rest of her ensemble of clothes, and a shiver of delight would run through her.
Mirabel would also excitedly read his diary for any new entries.
After the night she knew of his secret she read, ‘Mirabel loved the new episode of my telenovela! It almost made my heart explode when she got so excited about it. But I hope she’s okay. Mirabel seems to trust me enough that she admitted to being in pain from her period. I wonder how I can help her. Would it be weird if I learned her days on? All I want to do is make sure she’s okay. Note to Self: Do not learn her days on. You will look too creepy.’
She had to giggle and nod that it was a bit weird to learn her cycle, but she understood the sentiment. She loved that he cared.
Sweet things that she would read squeezed her heart with how cute they were, and then she would read his more… risqué thoughts, and her body would heat up and her bloomers would be in danger of becoming wet.
She re-read the one she had been reading before she had been interrupted by Octavia and this time, she actually got to enjoy the end of it.
‘…After using my fingers to loosen her up, I would ask her if she was okay and if she wanted to continue. Mirabel would nod and she would be so sweet and so beautiful, and I would tell her that because she deserves to know. I would then carefully insert my member inside her and I’d make sure she wasn’t hurt. And God, she would feel amazing. I would kiss her face and maybe she would laugh, and I’d kiss her smile too, just like I always want to. And then I’d make love to her as long as she’d let me. Then afterwards, I would hold her tight and feel her warmth as we fall asleep. I would keep loving her the next day and the next and the next. I’d love to have the chance to be with her until the day I die.’
Mirabel squeezes her thighs together and pants, as her heart flutters with his romantic yet erotic words. She would love it if he did this to her. She’d let him do whatever he wanted for as long as he wanted.
If only he wasn’t weighed down by the guilt that’s also written in the book.
Things like, ‘I’m sick. I’m disgusting. I’m going to hell for these thoughts. I’m a creep for all of the pictures and the collecting. I need to stop. What if the family knows? What if Mirabel knows? I’ll be thrown out and I’ll die in the street like a lonely rat, and I’ll deserve it.’
Each word hurts and saddens her. She understands because she’s had similar thoughts about how disturbing she was to feel the way she does for her tío. But now, finding out her tío was just as sick as her, she didn’t feel as bad anymore. Maybe a stray guilty thought but, it was nice to not be so alone.
Mirabel wonders how she can get him to not feel so bad about his feelings.
Maybe she could cheer him up? Mirabel mulls on ideas as she idly flips through Bruno’s diary. Then her eyes catch on a particular entry.
‘My drawings of Mirabel don’t feel accurate enough. Especially the nude ones. I have pictures of her to reference her shape but I’m basically running on pure imagination on what her naked body looks like. I won’t do it, but I have thought about peeking on her from behind the walls. It’s sick and a breach of privacy so I won’t... But I am tempted. God, help me.’
This entry was pretty early on the book, and Bruno never mentions in the next pages if he actually followed through with it.
Mirabel slowly smiles as the thrill runs up her spine.
She has her idea.
………..
“Casita, are you ready?”
Casita rolls and taps the bathroom tiles excitedly and Mirabel grins.
“Good. Now, you get Tío Bruno, and I’ll get ready.”
They roll the tiles beneath her feet affectionately and she giggles. Mirabel was so glad that Casita had agreed to help her. She didn’t know what she would do without somebody on her side. She undresses herself and throws her clothes in the laundry basket, and then wraps a towel around herself and waits.
Mirabel doesn’t have to wait long when she hears, “Casita! You are being really bossy tonight. What’s wrong?”
She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, letting her determination take over. Show time.
“Tío Bruno! I asked Casita to get you. I found something in the bathroom, and I need you to see it.”
“Mirabel? Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”
Her heart flutters with his concern, and she opens the door to peek out to see his face lined with worry. “I’m okay, but I think I found a crack or a hole in Casita’s walls. Would you take a look at it?”
“Okay, sure. Why me though? I don't know how I can help."
"Because you, Hernando, and Jorge are the experts when it comes to Casita’s cracks.”
Mirabel fully opens the door and carefully watches as Bruno takes in her form; naked except for a towel wrapped around her. She delights in how his face reddens, his eyes darting away, and his shoulders stiffly rising to his ears.
Nervous and maybe a little high-strung, he says, “Um! Mirabel! Y-y-you’re not dressed! Maybe I should come back later!”
She grabs his hand, and he jolts. It takes every bit of will power she possesses to fight the amused grin battling its way onto her face. He resolutely keeps his eyes averted as she tugs him into the bathroom.
“It’s fine, Tío! I have a towel on me so it’s not like it’s bad. I was about to take a bath when I saw this,” She stops them both at the wall with a slight crack in it and let’s go of Bruno’s hand to point to it, “It scared me to think that something was wrong with Casita or maybe even the miracle. What do you think?”
Bruno squints through his hair, and then fully turns towards the crack when he sees it. His face becomes contemplative as he studies it.
“I don’t… think it’s anything to do with the miracle. Maybe it’s just something we overlooked in the building inspection.”
Mirabel tries her hardest to pretend to be innocent as she says, “You think so?”
Because she knows where the crack came from. As does Casita, when Mirabel had asked them to create it in the wall opposite the bathtub.
She needed to give Bruno the perfect viewing spot after all.
Bruno turns to her with a smile, “Yeah, I think so. But I’ll patch it up later. You know, just in case.”
She smiles back, and then grins wider when Bruno’s eyes dart down to her towel and then away again, flustered, and red in the face.
“Aaaanyway. I’ll just-“ he points at the door and clears his throat, “-go! Leave you to it and all that.”
He rushes towards the door and Mirabel calls out, “Wait! If you’re going to patch it up, you might have to do it on the other side too. I took a look through it, and I could see to behind the walls. Just thought you should know.”
Without looking at her he stiffly nods and leaves.
Mirabel quietly says, “Casita, turn on the cold water when he starts watching. And tap the tiles twice when he leaves.”
Casita happily flaps the bathroom cupboards doors in answer. Mirabel sits on the edge of the already plugged tub and turns on the hot water.
The hot water fills up a little bit when suddenly the cold-water handle turns. She bites her lip, trying to hide her growing grin. Time for the Second Act.
Mirabel lazily dips her hand in the water and glides her hand in circles, testing the heat. She stands up and takes off her towel.
She wonders what Bruno’s doing behind the wall. Are his eyes frantically trying to take in all of her nudity? Was he getting hard at the sight of her? Would he… touch himself?
The thrill travels up her spine again.
Dios, she hopes so.
Mirabel sits back down on the edge of the tub, ignoring the chilly press of porcelain on her heated skin. She grabs the bar of soap and lathers it into her hands. She puts the bar down and slides her soapy hands over her breasts and gently squeezes them, making her breath hitch. This was about being sexy, not about being practical with washing herself, she thinks as her hands continue to slither down her belly.
She caresses her stomach, and her muscles instinctually clench under her hands and her core throbs in the best way.
Mirabel continues down to her thighs and lightly runs her fingertips along the inner skin of them to create a soft tingling that travels through her core and up her spine.
She notices her chest moving in time with her panting as she imagines the hands on her thighs being Bruno’s. Mirabel roughly squeezes her thighs, wondering, hoping Bruno would want to do that with his large hands.
Did he like what he was watching? Did he want to draw her like this? Would he write about this in his diary later?
Heat pools inside her at the thought and she feels herself beginning to get wet.
She mentally thanks Casita for making the water slow and weak out of the tap as she grabs a washcloth and dips it into the slowly rising bath water.
Mirabel opens her legs, knowing full well that her core was on complete display for Bruno’s eyes. She wonders if he can see how wet she was from his place behind the walls.
She wants to whisper, ‘For you. I’m wet for you.’ But she holds herself back.
She leans back slightly to stick her chest out and places the wet washcloth between her breasts and squeezes the water out. The water slides down her belly and in between her open thighs, and she hopes Bruno looks at her wet core and gets ideas of what he’d want to do to her.
She places the washcloth over the faucet and starts lightly petting the lips of her core with her fingers, hoping she had Bruno’s rapt attention. Hoping he understood what she was about to do.
Hoping he would understand her own ideas about what she wanted him to do.
Mirabel spreads her folds with her left hand for him to see all of her, and with her right hand, she slowly rubs her clit, and imagines Bruno gasping as he grips his cock. She bites her lip and moves her left hand to her breast to cup it and to thumb her nipple gently. Pleasure sparks through her and a small moan escapes her.
The idea of Bruno’s eyes on her as she pleasures herself sends fire through her veins, and she picks up the speed of her hand, presses her clit harder. Mirabel can’t control her moans as they echo in the bathroom, and she wouldn’t want to.
She wants Bruno to hear her, wants him to obsess over the sounds of her moans, her panting, the slick helping her quick movements.
Mirabel wants him to obsess over her.
Wants Bruno to take another picture, to have another vision, to hoard her things like they were special. Like she’s special.
She imagines Bruno coming over and replacing her fingers with his and whispering, “Beautiful. You’re a gift. Please cum. I want to see you cum.”
‘I want you to watch me cum too!’ She thinks as Mirabel throws her head back and moans as her orgasm erupts out of her, making her shake.
In the middle of it, she swears she hears a muffled groan and the idea that Bruno was getting turned on by her to the point of cumming only had her riding the wave of her climax a little longer than she thought she would.
Mirabel slumps, feeling boneless and yet energised at the same time, and eyes the water level in the tub. Oh. It was at the right height. Casita must have turned off the water at some point and she was too lost in the moment to notice.
She smiles lazily, “Thanks, Casita.”
She hopes Casita knows she not just thanking them for the water.
Casita taps the tile twice and she asks, feeling a little disappointed, “Oh… he’s gone?”
The cupboard squeaks in affirmation.
Mirabel sighs and slides into the bath. The temperature is perfect, and she feels her body relaxing even further. She has to fight the urge to fall asleep in the tub as she picks up the bar of soap again to start washing herself in a practical way.
“Ah, well. Tomorrow is Friday so I can go and read his diary all I want.”
Smiling to herself, with excitement threatening to burst out of her, Mirabel says, “I can’t wait!”
……..
The next day, Mirabel wished Bruno good luck for his day out with his mother with a smile. She was amused when Bruno couldn’t really hold any eye contact with her for long as he mumbled his thanks. Once they were gone, she practically ran to his room.
She could barely sleep last night due to her excitement. What would he write? What did he think? Did he love it as much as she did?
She arrives at his private room and Mirabel reads Bruno's latest entry, eager to see what he wrote about her.
‘I couldn't help myself. I had to look through the hole to the bathroom while Mirabel bathed. I'm only looking. As long as I don't touch or say anything, then it's fine.
Right?
No. It’s not fine. But I just couldn't resist. And I got to see her body for the first time.
She’s more beautiful than I ever imagined.
Her legs, her thighs, her hips, her tummy, her backside, her sex, her shoulders, her arms, even her fingers.
Everything about her is enchanting and I couldn't look away. She's only 17, and she's already so beautiful. I can only imagine how much more charming she'll be in the years to come.
I admit that I touched myself as she… pleasured herself. Her moans in the bathroom echoed and I wish I could have recorded it somehow. I feel the itch to draw the face she made as she came.
It's like God himself created her. She's radiant on the outside, but her insides are just as beautiful.
She's kind, she's smart, she's funny, she's determined, she's unapologetically herself.
Mirabel is perfect.
Mirabel stares at the book.
Perfect.
Bruno thinks her perfect.
A word thrown around her home about nearly everything and everyone, except her.
But here, in writing, was the evidence that she was perfect in somebody's eyes.
Mirabel heart squeezes with love for Bruno, tears prick her eyes, and a thrill runs up her spine all at once.
She wants more. She wants Bruno to not just write these things down. She wants Bruno to look at her with love and say these words to her face.
She wants him to know that she likes his drawings, his writings, his collecting, the shrine of her on his wall.
Mirabel wants him to know that she loves him too.
She’s had her fun with the thrill of secretly helping him, but now she wants all of him.
And she was already planning a way to make it happen.
….
Mirabel purposely keeps the bookcase door open and waits for Bruno.
After some time of Mirabel idly flipping through both of Bruno’s books, she hears him humming a tune as he opens his bedroom door. Abruptly, the humming stops.
“Oh, God. Did I leave the door open?!”
Hurried footsteps. Then a sharp inhale cuts through the room.
She turns to look at him and through the doorway to the secret room, she sees a pale Bruno with wide terrified eyes.
Neither of them moves as they stare at each other.
Bruno looks away first, and he begins to stutter, “I-it’s not what it looks like.”
Mirabel blinks and stays silent. Because it looks like what it looks like.
Bruno swallows nervously, “I-I just… You see, I…” and he trails off, clearly unable to think of something.
She opens her mouth and calmly asks, “Are you obsessed with me, Tío Bruno?
Bruno flinches, like he had expected her to shout at him. He looks like he wants to cry or kill himself.
Probably both.
And she can’t have him feeling like that, no siree.
“How long have you been doing this?” And she genuinely wants to know. Since she was little? Since she was 15 and he came back to the family? Only recently? She was dying to know.
“I-I-I-“
“This is all very surprising-“ What an understatement of the century, “-but I just wanted to tell you that-“
Seemingly, too scared to hear her response, Bruno interrupts her with wide, begging, and panicked eyes. “I’m so sorry, Mirabel! I swear, I won’t do it again! I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”
Startled at his fearful outburst, Mirabel looks him up and down, enjoying the power she was suddenly holding over him.
And she gives in to her own desires.
“Okay. Then strip.”
Bruno freezes in shock. His eyes dart along her face, anxiously trying to read her. He wets his lips nervously and swallows. “Wh-what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I want to see you naked. I mean, it’s only fair since you’ve seen me naked.”
He flinches. “H-how do you-?”
Mirabel nods towards his diary, “I read it in your book.”
Shame twists his face. “And I’m really, really sorry. Just- please. We don’t have to do that.”
Mirabel steps closer to him and he shrinks into himself in fear.
“You said you’d do anything to make it up to me. Well, I want to see you naked. So, strip.”
Bruno stares at her with wide imploring eyes and she holds her ground.
Some guilt enters her mind about making him do this, but she ignores it. She was taking a page out of Bruno's book and taking her long-awaited chance to see him naked for her. Like him, she was fuelling her fantasies through pure imagination alone.
And she had given him a peek at her body so now she wanted the same.
After a staring contest of wills, Bruno looks away, and Mirabel internally celebrates her victory.
He grabs his ruana and pulls it over his head. He drops it on the floor and starts working on the buttons of his shirt.
That thrill she loves travels up her spine as she watches Bruno’s fingers shake at every button, and his breath starts becoming laboured.
Bruno slides his shirt off to join the ruana on the ground and he hunches into himself in an attempt to hide.
Mirabel let’s her eyes roam his thin, slightly hairy chest, over his shoulders, down his arms that hide lean muscles, and to his stomach that’s starting to soften in his older age.
And she loves what she sees.
Because it’s Bruno.
Maybe she can now understand Bruno’s feelings about her being ‘perfect’ a little bit more, because all she sees is perfection.
Then her eyes flick down to the pants he’s still wearing, and there’s a slight bulge beginning to tent them. Was he-?
She smiles brightly as she excitedly says, “Are you getting hard, tío?”
Bruno’s shoulders rise to his ears, and he clenches his fists. Embarrassment clouds his features, and she thinks he looks cute like that.
Mirabel shrugs, “That’s okay, but it’s time to take off your pants.”
He stares at the ground for a moment and then looks up at her, hoping she’ll reconsider.
Her voice hardens, “Now, Bruno.”
He shivers, and his chest moves up and down faster than before. His shaking hands rest on top of his pants and he hesitates with the drawstring.
Bruno takes a deep breath and looks at her with desperation, “I-I don’t think I should. You’ve made you’re point, and I get it, okay? I promise to stop my-my-my obsession. I promise to act like a normal tío. Just- not this. Please.”
Mirabel sighs in frustration.
She loves Bruno. How was he not getting that?
She thought she was giving him what he wanted; Mirabel showing her want of him. But he was acting like she was punishing him with humiliation. Did he not see her basically eye-fucking him when he took his shirt off? Or how excited seeing his erection made her?
Maybe she needs a different tactic?
She nods to herself and steps up to Bruno, who takes a slight step back.
He stops when her fingers graze one of his hands at his waistband. His eyes lock onto hers as she trails her fingers along his hand and to his drawstring. Bruno’s breath hitches and Mirabel watches as his pupils dilate when she pulls the string. She hooks her thumbs into his waistband, her nails lightly scratching over his skin and tugs both his pants and underwear down.
Mirabel steps back and admires her tío’s thin and hairy legs, his sharp hip bones, and his erection. Bruno immediately covers his hard cock with his hands and looks away from her in embarrassment and shame.
Softly, Mirabel asks, “Can you take your hands away, please?”
Unsurely, he peeks at her through his hair, and she wishes he wasn’t so resistant.
“Why? You’ve gotten your revenge- I’m naked, you’ve seen me. Let’s just… stop. Before we can’t go back.”
Mirabel smiles sadly. She couldn’t go back even if she wanted to. Not since she’s seen his room. Not since she’s read his diary. Not since she read the words ‘perfect’ in his handwriting.
She couldn’t go back to not knowing the extent of his love.
She just needed him to see the extent of hers.
“I just really want to look at it. I’ve never seen a penis before, especially one that’s hard.”
Bruno furrows his brow and firmly states, “Then you shouldn’t be looking at mine to study.”
But she sees the way temptation enters his eyes, and she knows she’s already won.
Mirabel puts on her biggest puppy dog eyes and begs, “Please, Tío Bruno. Just lay down on the bed and let me look. Then we can forget about all of this once I’m done.”
Bruno chews his lip. “You know that curiosity killed the cat, right?”
Mirabel grins, “But satisfaction brought it back.”
His mouth tightens. “I-I-If I let you look, will you forgive me?”
She nods with a kind smile, hoping that will relax him.
He shakily nods, “O-okay. Okay.”
He stiffly walks over to the bed and sits. He’s still covering his penis as he takes a deep breath. He lets out his breath in a rush and flops back onto the bed. Bruno quickly takes his hands away, making Mirabel think he was mentally ripping the band aid off.
With his feet still on the floor, she wonders if it’s really a comfortable position for him so she gently says, “Could you scoot up the bed a bit?”
He raises his head and looks at her in confusion.
Why was he looking at her like that? Was there something wrong with asking him to do that?
Bruno seems to mentally shrug and sits up. He scoots himself back enough that when he lays down again, his head lays on the pillows that look like her top. With his arms and legs straight and stiff, he closes his eyes and clenches his fists. “Okay. Hurry up and look.”
Mirabel excitedly gets on the bed, but then deflates when she eyes how his body’s placed. ‘Um, where am I supposed to sit to make this easy on me? Beside him? Maybe I should have sat behind him?’
She racks her brain trying to figure out how to get close enough to him to look, until Bruno cracks an eye open. “Have you looked?”
“O-oh. No, I haven’t. Can I… can I sit between your legs? It seems easier to look in that position.”
He gulps and slowly parts his legs, wide enough for Mirabel to sit comfortably between them. “Is that better?”
“Yeah, thanks!” She crawls in between his legs, and he now watches her with an unreadable face.
“Right. Well. Get on with it, okay?” He tightly states as he looks up at the ceiling.
A part of Mirabel was so disheartened to see him so uncooperative, and another part was confused. Why isn’t he into this? She’s read every entry in his book, and she knows he loves her AND that he’s sexually attracted to her. What was she doing wrong?
She takes a deep breath, pushing the thought aside, and inches closer to his cock.
She could see a thick vein travelling along the shaft, his testicles were soft looking with some pubic hair covering them, and the head of his cock looked softer than she thought it would. She was also surprised to see it a shade redder than the rest of it.
It… looked like the tip hurt with how much it was straining and she wondered if Bruno was okay.
She stares at it some more and thinks, ‘Penises are truly weird looking, huh?’
Then she thinks about the way her vagina looked in the small mirror she put down there once. ‘But then again, vaginas look weird too.’
Mirabel sighs in thought, and her breath must do something because his cock suddenly twitches as if it has a mind of its own, and she flinches. “What the-?!”
Bruno worriedly looks down from his staring contest with the ceiling and asks, “What’s wrong?”
She points at it, needing him to understand how freaking weird that was, “I-It moved! Like, all by itself! Is it supposed to do that?”
He stares at her. Then he rubs his shaking hand down his face and looks truly conflicted. She could see a part of him thinking, ‘why me?’, but she could also see an excitement buzzing beneath his skin. She briefly wonders if his guilt was the only thing stopping him from taking what he wanted.
“That-“ Bruno’s voice comes out a little high and he clears his throat, “That’s normal. It just does that sometimes.”
Mirabel looks at him incredulously, “For real? Does it feel weird? Also, the tip looks really red, are you sure it’s not hurting you?”
He bites in his lower lip and reluctantly, with a voice higher than normal, says, “Uuuuummmm… I-its, well, I don’t-“
Out of curiosity, she taps the pad of her pointer finger onto the surprisingly spongey, red tip of his cock where a small slit lies, and Bruno halts what his saying to inhale sharply. He grabs her hand and pulls it away from him. He firmly says, “I think we’re done now, okay?”
He tries to sit up and cover himself once again, but Mirabel hurriedly puts a hand on his chest to stop him. He freezes with her touch on his skin, as she implores, “Wait! Please, Tío Bruno, let me keep going. I haven’t finished yet.”
She feels his quick heartbeat underneath her hand and wonders if he'd give her his heart if she asked for it.
She thinks about the visions, the art, the pictures, the diary entries, her collection of things, and thinks maybe it was already hers.
She just needed him to accept the twisted bleeding heart that she was trying to gift him in return.
And she had to be twisted to be turned on by Bruno's obsession and reverence, rather than scared or creeped out.
But maybe they could be twisted together.
If only he stopped fighting this and just understood what she was trying to do.
He wets his lips and squeezes his eyes shut. He rasps, “And you’ll definitely forgive me, right? We can go back to as if this never happened? As if you never found my room?”
“Of course,” she lies.
Nodding to himself as he lays back down, he mutters, “Of course, yeah, it’ll be okay.”
Mirabel waits until he’s comfortable and then grabs a hold of Bruno's cock with interest, making his body tense. She doesn't stroke it but just let's it sit in her grip. She takes notice of the warm skin, and the throbbing emanating from the hardened flesh. With her other hand, she traces a finger along a particularly thick vein from the base all the way to the tip, and Bruno gasps as his body twitches.
She looks up at him and he watches her with wide eyes full of chagrin, ashamed of his body’s honest reaction.
Experimentally, she then watches in fascination how the foreskin of his cock moves up to cover the reddening tip when she strokes up, and then expose the spongey head when she strokes down. Bruno makes a small whimpering sound, and it sends a jolt straight to her core. She does it a couple of times more, slightly faster each time, just to watch it all happen in a more fluid manner.
Who knew that penises could be this interesting?
Mirabel darts her eyes up to Bruno, and she finally sees some of the obsessive man she saw in his diary cracking through his shame. He sits up on his elbows and pants as his eyes lock onto her hand with an intensity that gives her the thrill she’s long since started to love when it comes to Bruno.
The thrill travels up her spine and makes it way to her tongue to ask questions she’s been dying to know, "Do you use my things to help you get off? I see some of them in this room. Did you touch yourself with them?"
Bruno snaps out of his focus on her hand, and pointedly looks away from her with guilt painted on his face and stays silent.
She didn't like that. She wanted his eyes full of obsession, of love, and of reverence on her. So, Mirabel stops stroking him, and just grips the base of his cock. She starts slowly tightening it, not to crush or cause pain, but to get his attention.
Bruno sharply sucks in a breath and darts his eyes back to her. Eyes mixed with fear and lust meet hers.
She makes sure to watch every small twitch of his face as she asks, "How often? Every night?"
He gulps and anxiously wets his lips but stays silent. That was fine.
She’ll get her answers.
She tightens her hand and starts slowly stroking him again, using her thumb to collect the clear fluid from his tip to make the glide better.
Mirabel glances up at Bruno. He’s biting his lip to hold himself back, and she almost wants to laugh at the strange combination of arousal and deep worry on his face.
He’s so adorable to her, that she can’t help leaning down and teasing him with the idea of using her tongue. She brushes some hair over her ear, and she sticks her tongue out to hover over his cock. She looks up at him through her lashes and over her glasses. Bruno eyes are wide and stuck intensely to her, just as she likes it, and he shudders.
She honestly doesn’t know how to give a blow job, so she’s hoping her tongue is enough. She pulls his foreskin down and licks the spongey exposed head. Bruno makes an almost squeaking sound as his hips twitch slightly upwards.
She continues licking him and sometimes stroking him when she hears Bruno mumbling under his breath behind a bitten knuckle, unaware that she could hear him.
“Dios Mio, Mirabel is touching me! Her tongue is so good, so sweet. This is her first time, right? I’m her first, right? Oh mierda, I need to draw this so badly! I wish I could take a picture and hang it on my wall.”
Mirabel shudders and sighs in pleasure over his cock. She feels so loved and worshipped, even though she was only lightly licking his dick like the amateur she was. His strange obsession with her seems to make all the little things she can do into something bigger and better than they actually were. And her confidence was soaring from it.
God, she really, really wants to touch herself right now. She was so wet that her bloomers are practically sticking to her skin. But not now, not when Bruno looked so good all needy and entranced with her like this. She strokes him faster and suddenly his eyes roll back, and he bucks in her hand.
He chokes out to warn, "I'm c-cumming!"
Mirabel doesn’t want this to end, not just yet, not when Bruno still thought she was humiliating and punishing him. She didn’t want to see him try and run from this once she lets him go.
So, how she can stop him from cumming?
She takes one look at the twitching cock in her hand, and then she suddenly grips the base of his cock hard, hoping that will stop him.
Bruno shouts out in pain through gritted teeth. With fascination, she watches the tip of his cock turn almost purple with how badly he needs to cum, and she loves that she can see the evidence of that with her own eyes.
She looks back up to Bruno's panicked eyes, "M-Mirabel? Let go, I need to cum!"
With him looking so rattled, she can’t help thinking, ‘Now, he might be a little more honest with his words. To my face, and not mumbled behind his hand.’
She keeps up her hard grip and he huffs in and out harshly as he squeezes his eyes shut, “Please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Forgive me! Mirabel, it hurts, let me cum! Pleasepleaseplease!”
“I’m not done yet, Tío Bruno. Just hold on, okay?”
A pathetic and desperate sound escapes his mouth, and he struggles to hold himself up on his elbows.
"Bruno, if you answer me, I can give you a reward. Would you like that?"
A small quiet moan leaves his lips. She decides to take that as a yes.
“I saw my old toothbrushes in the drawer. Did you ever stick one in your mouth as you jerked yourself off?"
He tenses and tries to look away from her. Jeez, his body and face sure were more honest than his mouth. But she’s glad. The image of Bruno furiously jerking himself off with her toothbrush in his mouth was sending straight electricity to her veins.
Mirabel smiles at him patiently, "What else did you do?"
Suddenly she remembers Bruno volunteering to do the dishes after dinner quite a bit. Sometimes, she would see him put a spoon or fork in his mouth and he’d close his eyes and hum in delight. She had thought he had been eating a dessert that he had stashed away for himself.
Maybe, in a way, he had been.
"Did you suck on the forks and spoons I use to eat at dinner?"
Bruno's hazy eyes look up beseechingly at her, begging her to stop asking, and his lower lip trembles.
Ah, so he did.
She feels a shiver of delight crawl up her spine at the image, and she lets out a quiet shuddering sigh.
"Okay. How about the images on the wall? How often do you get hard while looking at them?"
Shame and guilt twist his face and she kind of likes the look on him. "Even to the ones of me when I was little?"
Bruno sniffles, holding back tears. He croaks, "Yes! Is that what you wanna hear?! I'm a sick, disgusting pervert who deserves the lowest pit in hell! I know you're angry and you’re doing this as some kind of revenge, shoving all of the creepy things I’ve done in my face, shaming me, but you don't need to anymore, okay? I promise I’ll stop with all of it so, please, stop whatever this is and leave me alone."
Mirabel's heart sings in sympathy to his pain. To the shame building up inside of him as she rips out the disgusting things he's done from his chest.
But they weren't disgusting to her.
She lets Bruno's cock go and a sob of relief bursts from Bruno's throat. She watches as it bobs in the air, unsteady without her support, and then land to rest on Bruno's stomach. The clear fluid seeps out to mix with his happy trail, and she wonders if that bit of pain she gave him held him back from cumming immediately.
She anxiously searches Bruno’s upset and crying face and suddenly realises what she’s missed in all of this.
How could she be so stupid? Why hasn’t she said how she feels out loud? Why was she trying to rely on Bruno to guess what she was thinking? No wonder he was so confused and distraught. She needed to fix this right now.
Mirabel leans up to him and cups his cheek. She smiles adoringly as she smooths away a tear escaping his eye. "It's okay, Bruno. I like that you did those things."
Bruno freezes and stares at her in shock and disbelief. "Wha-?”
She nods, “I forgive you, Tío Bruno. But honestly, there was nothing really to forgive, because… I liked it.”
He incredulously stares at her. Oh, he didn’t believe her.
She sighs. Even with her feelings out in the open, he still didn’t get it. When will he realise that she's not punishing him for what he's done? She was rewarding his devotion and worship.
Just as he deserves.
Mirabel leans in and kisses his cheek and she feels him twitch under her lips. She slides up to his ear and she whispers, “I found your secret room weeks ago.” Bruno jolts away from her and lays back onto the pillows with a scared but confused look, and she smirks.
She leans over him, placing her hand next to his head to support herself, and kisses next to his ear.
She then runs her tongue along the shell of it, and his breath hitches as she continues, “Who gave you the shoes?” She kisses down his neck and sucks on the skin, and his throat bobs as he swallows. “Who gave you the bag?” She continues down and nibbles his collarbone, and his chest rises and falls rapidly once again.
Mirabel sits back up and sees Bruno’s look of stunned realisation.
She leans in and lightly caresses her lips over his, feeling his shuddering breath against her. She looks into Bruno’s wide eyes and whispers, “Who told you about the hole in the bathroom wall?”
A small helpless sound escapes him, and he breathes out, “You.”
She slowly smiles, “Me.”
She crushes her lips to his, and he moans.
Finally, finally, he lets himself have what she knew he wanted and kisses her back desperately. Mirabel’s hands end up in his hair as she leans on her forearms, and she opens her mouth to let him dive his tongue inside. She shivers when his hands smooth up her back and over her clothes. His rough, desperate kiss, and his gentle loving hands combine to make her so unbelievably wet.
Mirabel pulls away, lips and tongue tingling from his attention. Bruno slowly opens his dazed eyes and looks at her with all the love and devotion he was hiding from her. Her heart clenches, and she wants to convey the same to him. Against his swollen lips, she whispers, “I haven’t given you your reward yet.”
He slowly blinks, seemingly having gone a little stupid from the kiss, and it makes her want to laugh.
She scoots out from between his legs and stands up from the bed. Bruno looks momentarily panicked until she smiles and pulls up her skirt, then his eyes dart down to watch, entranced as she slides off her bloomers.
With her soaked bloomers in hand, she crawls back onto the bed and between his legs and puts it in his hand. "Here's your reward."
He pants and looks at her in confusion. She takes pity on him and closes his fingers around the material for him. She then takes his wrist, loving how he was letting her do what she wanted with his body, and brings his hand with the bloomers up to his face.
"You can sniff them if you want. I know you want to. And they're wet enough that you can suck on them too."
Mirabel shivers as she watches Bruno's confused eyes become hazy with lust. She hears him take a deep breath and then let out a shuddering moan.
The heat inside her builds to the point of bursting, "Do you like the way I smell?”
Bruno nods as he pants heavily with his eyes shut, his chest rising and falling with every breath. Mirabel touches her fingertips to the side of Bruno's neck and his eyes snap open and he looks at her in question.
With a teasing touch that's as light as a feather, she trails up to behind his ear, to softly brush the skin the way she likes to be touched. Bruno shivers at her ticklish touch and she smiles.
The tips of her fingers tingle as she descends to his neck and then to his collarbone. There, she traces down to the chest hairs in the middle of his chest, and she draws shapes into the skin.
Bruno fidgets underneath her touch, clearly wanting to ask for more, frustrated and on edge by her constant change of pace from slow to fast to slow again.
Mirabel slides her finger to his left nipple and circles around the hardened nub. She knew she liked it when she did it to herself, so she hoped he did too. She softly smiles at him as Bruno pushes his chest into the touch, seemingly without his permission as his brow creases.
She smooths her hand out along his chest and thumbs his nipple instead. Bruno starts breathing heavily into the fabric of her underwear as his eyes start to become unfocused.
She keeps thumbing his left nipple as she brings her other hand to lightly graze over Bruno's ribs, feeling each protruding bone with love.
Then, she slides her hand to his stomach. Bruno grunts in frustration as she purposely avoids his leaking erection. When her hand glides down to his lower gut, she watches in fascination as the muscles of his stomach contract. She looks back up to Bruno and finds his eyes watching her hand with a desperate need.
She removes her hand on his chest and places it on the top of his thigh. Bruno swallows loudly as she sneaks her thumb in the crease between his thigh and groin. She slowly rubs her thumb soothingly up and down the crease, enjoying the soft, fragile skin, and the hairs of his pubic hair tickling her thumb.
Bruno shakily lets out a breath when she walks her fingers of her other hand from his hip and down his thigh. Once she reaches his knee, she teasingly slides her hand back up his thigh, making the muscles under her hand twitch. She pulls that hand away and starts slowly massaging circles into the crease of his groin with her other hand.
At random intervals, she brushes close to his cock, making Bruno's breathing heavier and shaky.
Finally, he breaks.
Bruno pulls her bloomers from his face as he begs, “Please, just touch me! I need you to touch me!”
Mirabel smiles victoriously. She loved that he was finally voicing what he wanted her to do to him.
But that didn’t mean she had to fully give him what he wanted.
She looks at his cock and sees the clear fluid drooling out of the slit at the purple tip. She holds the base to keep it upright and places a fingertip onto the slit. With the lightest of touches, she circles the spongey tip, spreading the fluid. Bruno lets out a shuddering breath as his hands claw the sheets underneath him and his hips jerk upwards.
Mirabel pulls away and the fluid sticks to her fingertip, creating a string of connection between the two of them. When the line snaps, some of it trails down her finger instead. Bruno grips her bloomers like they were rosary beads, and she can see his lips moving, praying for release.
She lets his cock go entirely, and he whimpers with disappointment.
She then studies Bruno’s balls, and she’s reminded how boys her age would be in so much pain if they got hit in this area. Mirabel doesn’t want to cause Bruno pain so, she brings her hand to softly cup his balls, curious about the feel of them. They’re a lot softer than she first thought so she starts to gently massage it to see what would happen. His balls scrunch up in instinct and she breathes out a quiet, "Whoa."
Bruno's throws his head back into his pillow and his body shakes. He stares at the ceiling in a daze and grits out, "Oh God, Oh god, oh god, please, I can't! I need to cum!"
"Yes, you can. You're doing so well for me, bebito."
Bruno's cock twitches desperately and his body arches as he groans. It had been a slip of the tongue to call him baby, but the reaction truly makes her wonder.
She removes her hand from his ball sack and rubs his thigh soothingly, "You're being such a good boy for me, you know that?"
Mirabel notices his unfocused eyes as he whines, so on edge from her teasing. She thinks he’s out of it enough for her to risk trying something she never thought she’d ever say before, "Yeah, mi bebito is so good. Would you like Mami here to help you cum?"
He sobs and quickly nods his head. Her stomach clenches with the heat inside her and she feels her core dripping with need. God, he was so cute.
She sweetens her voice for him, like she was talking to a child, "I need your words, bebé. Tell Mami what you need."
Lost to the desperate need to cum that she can see in every line of his straining body, Bruno pleads as he clutches her bloomers in his hand, "Please Mami, let me cum! Use your hand to make me cum!"
Mirabel quietly moans and licks her lips, "Of course, bebé."
And then she firmly grabs Bruno's cock, making him jolt.
She sends a sharp look back at her bloomers and commands, “Keep smelling them.”
He quickly buries his nose into her bloomers once again and watches her with wide desperate eyes.
She strokes him tight and fast as Bruno's hips buck into her hand. Mirabel loves the way Bruno looks breathing in her scent with his unfocused eyes. Loves his leaking throbbing dick begging to stain her hands with his cum.
God, she just loves him so much.
And she couldn’t keep her mouth shut.
“You’re so cute, so pretty. You make Mami so wet with how good you are. You’re my sweet and gorgeous little bebito.”
Bruno rolls his head back and he sobs, tears shining in his eyes from over-stimulation, maybe from being praised too.
Muffling himself with her underwear he calls out, "Ah! Mami!"
“Come for me, Bruno,” she begs.
Then he cums, spilling his seed over her hands with a shout.
She keeps stroking him, partly in curiosity, and partly because his cock kept twitching with each load of cum that oozes from the tip, and she thought she had to keep going to help him along. She massages his balls again with her other hand because she liked his reaction the first time, and he whimpers.
After some time, Bruno flinches and sucks in a pained breath, "Ah! It's too much."
So, Mirabel lets him go, and rubs his thigh with her clean hand instead.
She curiously looks at Bruno’s semen on her other hand and then sniffs it. It wasn’t a great smell, but not terrible either. She presses her pointer finger and thumb together and then pulls them apart, watching the white sticky fluid stretching between them.
Mirabel catches Bruno’s eye just as the line snaps and sees him watching her intensely with hooded eyes. Like he was memorizing her every move. She gets an idea and opens her mouth. She licks her pointer finger, enjoying Bruno’s quiet gasp more than the bitter taste.
Bruno seems to shake himself out of his stupor and quickly sits up to grab her wrist. Back to the tío she knows, he awkwardly clears his throat.
“You, ah, you don’t need to do that. I know it’s gross. Let me just, ummm-“ He looks around his now not-so-secret room and lands on his own clothes. “Just give me a minute.”
Mirabel is close to laughing as she watches him swiftly roll off the bed and grab his pants while fully naked. He comes back to her and gently grabs her wrist once again. As he wipes her hand with a leg of his pants, he says, “A-are you okay?”
She looks up at him in confusion, but then she sees the guilt returning to his face, and she gets annoyed.
“Of course, I’m okay. I’m the one who started this.”
Bruno says nothing while he stares at her hands, clearly lost in thought. Anxiety and guilt suddenly replace her anger. She was still throbbing and in need of release, but she didn’t want him thinking that he forced her to do this.
She’s ashamed to admit that she had been the one to force him.
Meekly she says, “Tío, I… I’m sorry that I took advantage of you.”
He snaps out of his thoughts and incredulously looks up at her. “Took advantage-? Mirabel, you didn’t do anything like that.”
“But you seemed so reluctant, and I kept ignoring you when you wanted to stop.”
Hesitantly he says, “I… well, I was reluctant because I thought you were making fun of me, or, I dunno… going to laugh at how disgusting I was for-“ Bruno waves his hands around at his ‘Mirabel’ themed room, “But, I liked all of it. I definitely wanted it.”
Mirabel still isn’t so sure, but she places her hand on top of his in encouragement as he continues.
“A-and maybe in some way, I thought… that… I deserved your revenge.”
She gasps, “What?! Why?”
“Mirabel…” Bruno sadly smiles. “I have been collecting anything to do with you since I came out of the walls. You think the diary you found is the only one? I know how creepy my obsession is, especially one for my own niece. That deserves to be punished.”
She shakes her head as anger rises within her. Not at Bruno, but for him. Even if she has to argue against the man himself!
“I already told you! I like your obsessiveness. I don’t want to punish you for it. I’m just sorry I wasn’t able to get my feelings across to you properly.”
Mirabel freezes at her own words and she stares at Bruno’s sad and guilty face.
Dios, of course! There was one thing she hasn’t said to him throughout all of this. The one thing that could have solved all of this from the start.
She snatches her hands from Bruno’s who blinks in surprise, and she smacks her forehead with a groan of frustration. “I’m such an idiot!”
She loves Bruno, and yet, she hasn’t even told him! Can she get anymore stupid?
Mirabel takes a deep breath and reaches out to caress his face, making Bruno look at her in confusion, undoubtingly for her abrupt change in emotions. She strokes her thumb along his cheek, and she smiles when she hears him sigh in contentment.
“I love you, Tío Bruno.”
Bruno’s eyes widen and he stares in shock at her.
“What? You don’t believe me? After all of this?” She incredulously waves her hands between them, trying to lighten the mood.
“I mean, sex and love are two separate things. And you did say you were curious about…” Bruno leans closer as if he was sharing a secret and whispers, “you know.”
She has to bite the inside of her cheek from grinning too hard. With fake innocence she says, “No, Tío. I don’t know. Could you tell me what you mean?”
Bruno grumpily pouts. “I’m on to you now, so no more of that naïve little girl act.”
“What act?” She flutters her eyelashes at him with a sweet smile.
A smile cracks through his grumpy defence, but he quickly hides it away.
“No. I’m not falling for it again.”
Mirabel leans closer to him and aims her most puppy-eyed look at him. “Please, tío, I don’t know what you mean. Tell me? Please, please, please?”
He turns his eyes away from her, shielding himself from the powerful effect of her stare.
Damn. Well, onto plan B!
She keeps on with her tactic of saying ‘please’ over and over, only pausing to take a deep breath, and then continuing on with the relentless annoyingness.
Mirabel watches (with some sadistic pleasure, she won’t deny) as Bruno starts slowly frowning, getting more and more annoyed as time goes on.
Finally, he cracks and shouts, “Fine! Penis! You were curious about penises! Just please, for the love of God, stop!”
Inside, Mirabel was doing a little jig of victory, but on the outside she gasps dramatically.
“I can’t believe you just said ‘penis’. To a 17-year-old!” She shakes her head in fake disappointment. “How awful of you.”
Mumbling, he retorts, “Says the 17-year-old who just grabbed hold of one at the first opening she got.”
She looks him in the eye, hoping her sincerity was getting across to him. “My first opening with you, you mean. Because I do mean it when I say I love you.”
By the conflicted expression on Bruno’s face, she can tell that he really wants to believe her.
She fidgets with her fingers. He hadn’t said anything back- and that was fine! He was allowed not to love her back… but… she really thought he loved her. Was she wrong...?
Nervously she peeks up at him. “I-I know you’re obsessed with me, but do you-?”
His conflicted expression melts away into an almost desperate panic. He waves his hands at her, trying to soothe her, “Of course! Of course, I love you!”
Mirabel brightly grins as excitement bubbles with her. He loves me too!
Then Bruno looks away and he rambles, “You’re the only one I’ve gotten, um, this obsessed with. With you, I just couldn’t help myself as I kept going and now it’s to this level and at this point, I don’t even know how to stop.”
Sardonically she retorts, “Even though you promised you would stop obsessing over me at one point?”
He opens his mouth and then shrugs.
“I probably would have moved it all to a new room. I just didn’t want you mad at me, so I lied.”
Mirabel giggles. “Tío, it almost sounds like you’re my biggest fan.”
He sucks on his lips and hums sceptically. “I wouldn’t put it like that, but sure. It’s definitely softer than what I feel for you.”
She slowly smiles as the fire inside her reignites from its brief respite. Mirabel boldly strokes her hand through his chest hair, and she leans closer to his ear, relishing in Bruno’s shiver as she flirtatiously says, “Then show me what you feel for me. Help me understand, tío.”
Mirabel pulls away and hungrily watches as his throat bobs.
She takes off her shirt and unclasps her bra. She throws them aside and is about to continue with her skirt when she catches her tío staring in wonder at her chest.
His eyes flick down to her boobs and then back to her face. Then down to her boobs again. Then her face. He does it one more time and Mirabel snorts. She tries to cover her mouth to muffle some of her laughter.
Why did he look so funny with his big round eyes looking so in awe of her breasts?
She continues to wriggle out of her skirt and then lays down onto the bed, now fully naked in front of him.
Without a wall between them this time.
Bruno clears his throat and stares hard into her eyes. As if he was trying his best not to look down. She grins as Bruno squints, straining to hold himself back from looking down at her body. Trying to be a gentleman in a situation where she didn’t want him to be.
Some insecurity lingers in the back of her mind about her body, but she feels mostly confident as she remembers Bruno’s entry in his diary. Calling her beautiful.
Calling her perfect.
“You can look. I want you to.”
Bruno sighs in relief and lets his eyes hungrily roam over her. Goosebumps rise on her skin with the electricity of his intensity.
She wonders if he’s memorising everything about her so he can draw her in his books.
God, she hopes so.
Bruno swallows and lies himself down on his side next to her. One of his hand shakes as it hovers over her naked body.
Breathlessly Mirabel says, “You can touch me.”
He freezes and she can visibly see him trying to psyche himself up.
“What’s wrong?”
“Well… touching is… very different from looking.”
Mirabel chuckles. “Here. I’ll help you.”
She grabs his hovering hand and presses it to her chest. Her clit tingles when his big hand fully covers one of her breasts. A small noise escapes from his throat and she squeezes his hand, silently telling him to do the same. She hums pleasantly when long, rough fingers gently do just that.
Bruno darts his eyes from his hand on her, to her face, where his gaze stays caught on her own.
She smiles and slides his hand down her belly, leaving a burning trail in its wake. Eyes never leaving the other, Mirabel bites her lip and Bruno’s breath hitches as his fingers touch the curls of her core.
“Do you remember how I touched myself in the bathroom?”
“I hadn’t really been paying attention to the, ah, technique. I was kind of busy at the time.”
Mirabel giggles, “You had your hands full, huh?”
Bruno scrunches his face in fake pain, and he chuckles, “You could say that.”
“That’s okay, I’ll show you.” She leads his hand further down, and she opens her legs a little wider so that she can gently guide his fingers to her clit. She presses his fingers down and moves them how she likes it. He's quick to copy the movement and pressure as he intently watches her face.
She can't help herself, so she lets his hand go to leave him to his own devices, and she grabs his cheeks to kiss him. His eyebrows rise in surprise, but he kisses her back. She hums in pleasure against his lips and rocks her hips into his touch.
She stops kissing him to slide her lips softly along his cheek to his ear. She whispers, "You're the first to touch me like this, you know?"
Bruno's breath catches in his throat, and she smirks.
"Do you want to be the first to put their fingers inside me?”
He eagerly nods. “Yes, please, I-I want that. So badly.”
She kisses his cheek, his temple, and then pulls away, “Of course, tío. As long as you write about it later.”
Bruno swallows hard. He looks at her like she’s a dream made real and chokes out, “Definitely.”
“And you’ll let me read it?”
He groans helplessly and breaths out, “Yeah-yes, whatever you want.”
She once again reaches down to guide his fingers until they reach her hole, and she slowly pushes the tip of one inside. Bruno and Mirabel gasp as he sinks into her deeper.
She places a hand on his cheek and pants out, “Will you also tell me now? About how much touching me means to you?”
Bruno nuzzles into her hand, and he shyly says. “S-sure…”
He moves his finger inside her and shallowly thrusts into her, making her toes curl.
“I love how warm you are on the inside, a-and how tight. I can’t believe how wet you are.”
She sighs in pleasure as the heat builds with his words. Bruno slips a second finger in, and she continues to rock herself onto them. “More. Tell me more!”
“Y-you-“ He gulps and watches her in a daze. “-you’re so beautiful like this. You were beautiful before too. I can’t help being mesmerized by you.”
Mirabel moans and slides her hand down to her clit, guessing that Bruno may not know how to do more than one thing at a time. But that was okay, because she was loving his long fingers filling her up and worshipping her with each press inside.
And they would have plenty of time to learn how to pleasure each other better.
Mirabel would make sure of that.
Bruno’s eyes catch on her fingers, and then the intensity of a man recording everything in his mind flashes on his face. The thrill travels up her spine knowing Bruno was watching his fingers disappear inside of her, only to re-appear coated in her juices. Knowing that he was watching how she rubbed her clit, hopefully to replicate it for the future.
The heat inside her builds and builds, and his fingers hit the spot inside her that makes her see a galaxy of stars behind her eyelids. She gasps and grinds herself onto his fingers. “Yes, more! Just a little more, please Bruno!"
He flicks his desperate gaze back to her face and he pants, “I love how you know what you want. I love how you’re fucking yourself on my fingers. I love- I love- I love you, Mirabel.”
A small noise escapes her, and she keeps rubbing her clit to help chase the peak off the cliff that she’s seeking. She just needs- she needs-!
Bruno eyes connect with her dazed ones, and with the reverence of a devoted man finding his God in the flesh, he breathes out, “Mirabel, you’re perfect.”
She gasps as the eruption inside her blows and feels herself clamp down on his fingers as she shakes with her orgasm.
Mierda, he called me perfect! Bruno called me perfect! Fuckfuckfuckfuck-!
The wave of her pleasure stops crashing through her and slowly becomes a gentle tide that makes her sigh in contentment. Then, once she calms down enough, she is suddenly aware of his fingers still inside her.
And that Bruno was kissing her face and muttering against her skin, “Perfect, beautiful, so, so amazing.”
A small smile creeps onto her face as she shivers with the thrill from his words and affection.
Lazily, she reaches her hand down to gently wrap her fingers around Bruno’s wrist. From her touch, she can feel him pause with his lips against her temple. He pulls back to look at her in concern. Mirabel helps him gradually pull out his fingers, and the disappointment in his eyes is reflected inside of her.
Then he looks confused as she raises his fingers to his face.
She looks into his eyes and says, "You should taste your fingers. It'll make a good entry in your book, don't you think?"
His breath hitches and he nervously swallows. He opens his mouth and lets her guide his fingers inside.
Mirabel licks her lips at the sight of her tío sucking his fingers of her juices. And she was also now kind of regretting not sucking off her own of Bruno’s cum, just so he knew this thrill too.
Bruno slides his fingers out and dazedly murmurs, “Delicious.”
Her face burns with embarrassment. But the twisted part of her knows she also loves it.
Mirabel reaches up to him and gently pulls him down with her hand on the back of his neck. Bruno obliges with her silent command with a small contented smile and she kisses him. She tastes him and herself on his tongue and the thrill runs up her spine of how good, how right, the combination is.
Having learned her lesson that honesty was the best policy with Bruno, she pulls away from him and, barely above a whisper, she says, “You’re delicious too.”
He sucks in a breath, and she suddenly has her face buried in his chest. His arms wrap around her, and he says in disbelief, “How are you real?”
Mirabel flushes. Dios, being honest rewards her quite well.
She affectionately kisses his chest and leans up with a smile. “You keep saying things like that and I’ll do whatever you want.”
Bruno rubs his hand over her skin soothingly. “What I want is for you to be yourself.”
She hides her silly grin into his chest. She loves him so much. She wants to give back to him everything she’s feeling tenfold.
Then an idea hits her, and she suddenly sits up, making a sound of displeasure come from Bruno’s throat.
Mirabel gets up and grabs Bruno’s ruana. She sits back onto the bed and coyly looks at him.
“You know, tío, maybe I should start a collection of my own.”
He looks between her and the ruana, trying to connect the dots. Then he sits up straighter in realisation. Incredulously, he questions, “Of me? Why?”
Mirabel slips the ruana on and smirks.
“I am your biggest fan after all.”
Bruno’s answering blush and stammering response makes her wonder if she should invest in a little book of her own to record this deep well of affection rising within her for him. And she’ll happily let him read what she has to say.
Every twisted and loving thought can be his to worship, and she can breathe in his like the addiction it has become.
She gently grabs his face and kisses him until he melts against her.
Mirabel pulls away and smiles.
“You’re perfect, Bruno.”
He shivers in her grasp, and the thrill travels up his spine and then down through hers, and she silently promises they’ll drown in this obsession together.