(Author's Note: submitted to Literotica March, 2010 as Brother and Sister Reunion. Some minor revisions made once submitted to website. Rejected for content February, 2019. Edited, expanded, retitled and resubmitted June, 2021).
My Twin Sister, My Lover - Episodes from the lives of two incestuous siblings.
A sharp creak echoed through the nocturnal stillness of the house. An old floor betrayed the bare feet passing gently over its wooden slats. With the turn of a glass doorknob, a heavy door swung open for a second, admitted a body, then quickly shut. The figure, a lithe, young woman of eighteen, moved quickly to the bed. She slid quietly beneath the pale blue sheets, sidling against the young man sleeping there. Her voice hardly rippled the blackness in the room as she whispered.
"Dennis."
Sensing no response from the sleeping figure, she brushed her lips against his ear.
"Dennis." For a moment, she considered abandoning the insane situation and returning to her own bed.
God, what am I doing? This is so wrong, but I need it so much.
Her moist breath passed over his cheek. Under the soft, cotton sheets, her hand moved up and down his bare thigh. She had pulled her flowered nightgown up to her waist, and her exposed body urgently pressed against him. Still in sleep, he reacted to her touch. His breathing paused, then resumed. His warm body flexed, almost imperceptibly, then began to press back against her bare pelvis. Elation washed over the young woman's body.
Ohhh, yes. But what will he do when he wakes up?
"Sweet Dennis," she sighed, as she rubbed her hand over his flat stomach in a slow, circular motion. Her fingers slid furtively beneath the elastic band of his white shorts, caressing his silky, brown pubic hair.
So soft. God, yes, I love it.
Within moments, his penis began to stir, becoming tumescent against her slender hand, then growing larger, making a miniscule tent pole in the front of his shorts. As her fingers wrapped around his hardness, he awakened with a mild shudder.
"What are you doing?" he whispered, his eyes still closed.
"Be still," she cooed. "You'll like it".
The young man, also eighteen, loved and trusted her, so he let her continue the caresses. Gripping his erection firmly, she began to pump it, slowly, at first, then more briskly, until she found a comfortable rhythm. Within time, he began to breathe more heavily. Still pressed against her body, he began to undulate against her hand, his strong buttocks flexing and pressing firmly against her burning bush.
"Oh, Jesus," the young man whispered. "This feels so good."
"That's what it's supposed to feel like, honey." She squeezed, making him shudder. "Sweet, sweet Dennis," the young woman rubbed her pussy against her brother, her twin, until both climaxed in the still of the night.
"Son of a bitch," Dennis thought, keeping an eye on the slow-moving propane truck lumbering ahead of him, "I'm stranded smack in the middle of another family reunion."
Not that he harbored ill will toward any member of his family, but Dennis preferred interacting with relatives one at a time. Every year, he forced himself to make the long drive south to the small Arizona town in which he was born. His marriage, childless and moribund after twelve years, gave him the perfect excuse to leave behind the wife he no longer loved, at least for a day. Standing outside the red brick VFW hall, he concentrated on the true reason for his attendance.
Here we go.
Taking a deep breath, he plunged into a large roomful of his brethren. After some glad-handing, he went through the obligatory recounting of the past year of his life, in detail, to throngs of well-meaning, mostly elderly relatives.
"Where's Lillian?" one of them would always ask, referring to Dennis's wife.
"She had to stay home, I'm afraid," he lied. "I think she has a touch of the flu."
Bullshit Excuse #7 worked well, if not used too often. It was perfect for distant relatives with poor memories of the previous year's reunion.
"Oh, what a shame!" cried the short, grey dowager beside him. Aunt Betty emoted so much saccharine passion when she spoke. This gathering seemed to be the only thing that dragged her into the sunlight each year, and she made the most out of it. "That poor, dear girl always has a touch of something."
Hmmm. Old Auntie's memory isn't so bad, after all.
After breaking free of the geriatric crowd, he milled through a smattering of other individuals, lingering on a pretty niece whose well-endowed body belied her youth. Studying the snug, black dress sheathing her ample figure, he tried to guess the color of her pubes, since her short-cropped hair had been severely bleached. Oh, what a sweet little fuck she would be.
"Where's your mother?" I asked the seductive nymphet.
Before the answer could escape from her pouty, red lips, Dennis spotted his asshole brother-in-law, Bill, milling his way toward them.
Shit.
Bill slid up behind his sexy daughter, squeezing her bare shoulder pronouncedly.
"Well," he asked Dennis with that booming, big-shot voice of his, "what do you think of her?"
Let me take her out back for a quick fuck, then I can tell you, and with the right coach, namely me, her luscious little mouth could blow cock like a well-paid pro.
"She's a beautiful girl," he replied to Bill, nonchalantly, quelling the tinges of lust in his voice.
"This is her first year of college," Bill beamed. "She's studying to be an RN."
"That's wonderful!" Perhaps Dennis smiled a little too much when he said that. He envied the lucky guy who would take her cherry, if she still had one. The erotic seductress shot him a flirtatious glance, as if reading his mind, before disappearing into the crowd. Silently, he mourned her departure.
Goodbye, little fuck. Perhaps I can taste your sweet pussy sometime.
Over Bill's pinstriped shoulder, Dennis noticed a cute blonde approaching; Susan, his twin sister, and Bill's wife of fourteen years. Well into her second pregnancy and about to pop, she walked with slight difficulty but, to her credit, the purple designer maternity dress managed to make her look as sexy as any woman in the room.
"Hello, honey," Susan twittered in a high, superficial voice. His sister hugged and kissed him distractedly. His arms reached out to encompass her extra girth, as her swollen stomach pressed against him. "How are you, sweetheart?" she asked, as if not caring to know the answer. What a performance.
"Fine," Dennis smiled, observing her condition. "It looks like you're about to give it up."
"Should be any time, now," she sighed, sharing a look with her husband.
Dennis glanced at her breasts, swollen with milk and bigger than they had ever been, even during her first pregnancy, so many years ago. Her enlarged nipples were impossible to conceal. Even with layers of fabric covering them, he could see the distinct, half-moon ridge of an areola. That kid would have a mouthful. As Bill's gaze turned away, Dennis glared at his sister.
"Are you kidding?" his eyes asked her incredulously, referring to her husband. Not yet forty, Bill had obviously begun coloring his thinning hair. Why his sister had stayed with such a dipshit, and for such a long time, Dennis could never understand. Susan gave him that familiar leer.
"Behave yourself," she telepathed.
"Fine," Dennis thought. "As long as I can have some, too."
As he conceded to some bullshit conversation, dominated mostly by Bill, the tension began. Dennis eyed his sister intently, studying her face and the movement of her eyes.
"Look at me, damn it," he begged her silently. "Give me a sign." When another alpha-male in-law distracted Bill, he pulled Susan aside.
"So when can we go?" Dennis whispered, touching her.
"Patience, baby," she smiled gently. "We'll go soon, but we have to be careful." Her hand covered his, pressing it against her warm skin.
Within fifteen minutes, Susan began to feign illness. She disappeared into the ladies room for a few moments, then returned, looking decidedly peaked. She should have won an award. Her husband never suspected. After only minutes, Susan and her brother escaped on a shaky pretense. Susan needed some fresh air, so Dennis would take her for a drive; a very long drive. She could breathe the dry air, and they could talk and catch up on our lives. Bill would stay at the reunion and chaperone his succulent little piece of college-aged ass. As for the rest, fuck 'em if they think it odd.
At last, Dennis had Susan to himself. As she entered the air-conditioned vault of his baby blue Oldsmobile, he helped his sister adjust and fasten the lap belt and shoulder harness. Touching her smooth shoulder, he could hardly quell his lust. His lips pressed against her scented neck.
"Careful," she whispered, looking ahead as if I'd done nothing, "we're not free yet."
Dennis gunned the motor and they got the hell away.
The sun waned behind the sand-colored hills in the distance. He had shut off the air conditioner as his sister rolled down the windows. The late-afternoon air blew across his face, carrying a calming, organic scent. They had been driving for about half-an-hour when Susan spotted a decent-looking motel, nestled in a grove of trees, far from the lonely highway.
"This looks fine, babe," she said. Her voice had changed, now that they were alone, into that intimate, loving voice; her real voice, not that of Bill and his fabricated world.
Oh yes, sweet sister.
Dennis nosed the car onto the drive. With gravel crunching beneath the tires, he angled the sedan past the side of the shingled main building, parking out of sight of the highway. The place looked old, but well-kept. The elderly caretaker smelled of pipe smoke and Old Spice. Forty dollars was a pretty good deal for this time of year, but anything would have been a bargain. After retrieving a small, token suitcase from the trunk, Dennis led Susan to their room. The moment the door closed, Susan and her brother locked in a tight embrace.
"Sweet baby," he whispered in the dim, murky light, "I missed you so much."
"Ohhh, Dennis," Susan exhaled, her lips touching his ear, "I really need some love."
The sibling ritual began.
For a sweet, lingering moment, their mouths devoured each other noisily, tongues lashing out like battling serpents as saliva dampened their faces. Susan practically tore her brother's shirt off, tossing it aside, as he quickly dropped my trousers and boxer shorts. In spite of her condition, she lunged forward like a panther, pushing him against the wall. Her open mouth pressed against his chest, kissing it and exploring it with her tongue. Dennis closed my eyes momentarily, lost in the excitement of their long overdue reunion.
"Oh, baby," he shuddered, "you know what I want."
Her lips glistening wetly, Susan began to tease his left nipple with her teeth. The teasing turned into suckling as he moaned with pleasure, pressing his face into her hair. Her hand encircled his cock, squeezing it and stroking it slowly. The scent of his sister's flesh, mixed with that familiar perfume she always wore for him, filled his nostrils as he inhaled deeply. Their bodies pressed together, and his erection poked awkwardly against her swollen belly, making her giggle involuntarily. Breaking her suction, Susan turned her face to his.
"Get me naked," she whispered.
Susan pulled her hair aside as Dennis unbuttoned the back of her dress. Kissing her neck gently, he pulled the dress away from her shoulders, letting it slip to her feet. Her bare skin reflected the meager light from the bathroom. His fingers nestled in the curve of her back as he led his sister to the king-sized bed.
As they sat on the flowered bedspread, Dennis helped Susan unhook her bra. Gently, he peeled the fabric away from her engorged mounds. Reacting to the cool air, her areolas puckered and her dark, red nipples became hard and pointed. Kneeling at her feet, he slid her panty hose down her parted legs, gazing at her exposed body. As she had done for years, Susan kept her sweet little bush trimmed in a perfect triangle. She knew how much her brother loved to press his face into her silky floss. As he reverently kissed the inside of each thigh, he listened to her breathing becoming more audible, and smelled the gentle musk of her need. Gazing into her beautiful, gleaming brown eyes, he rubbed her swollen stomach.
"It's almost nine months to the day," he smiled, recalling their last meeting. He cupped her heavy breasts, lifting them, slightly awestruck by their sheer bulk.
"Suck them," she said, then, smiling, added, "they'll dribble all over if you don't."
Nuzzling her thick, erect nipple, Dennis began to suckle his sister's breast, pressing his face into the soft, pillowy mound as his hands clasped around her naked, rounded hips. She sighed with pleasure as he began to draw out mouthful after mouthful of warm, rich fluid. Some of the milk escaped the vacuum of his mouth, trickling down his chin and across his chest. A rhythmic sucking noise filled his ears as he drained Susan's supply. Soon, the flow began to ebb.
"Get the other one, too," she commanded gently. His hungry mouth released her wet nipple and quickly turned to the other, sucking powerfully, as he knew she liked it. "Mmmm," she moaned, running her fingers through his hair, "I never get tired of this." Dennis knew it was true. Whether she was pregnant or not, he could suck his sister's tits for hours, not only before, but after sex, after they had both come.
Back when Dennis had a fully functioning marriage, his wife's nipples would be very sensitive after sex. She would cover her breasts with her arms, then roll over, facing away from him, as if he'd done something wrong by trying to touch them again. Eventually, he learned the best thing to do was to go to sleep, and leave Lillian to her own devices. With Susan, tit-sucking was merely part of a long, slow buildup to another hot round of sex.
As Susan fed Dennis the last of her milk, his hands slid gently around her waist, down to her thighs. Slowly, he brushed against her thick, blonde patch, caressing the swollen lips of her pussy. After having one child and preparing for another, her pussy had enlarged considerably. Parting her legs slightly, she sighed.
"Be careful, baby, you might start it," she whispered, referring to her late-term pregnancy. But she needed to fuck, and he did, too, and the baby was due anyway.
Gently pushing her back on the bed, Dennis slid between Susan's legs, pressing his hips against hers. With hardly a push, his cock slid into her sopping, wet pussy. Not much friction was there, but none was expected. As he gently began to pump against his sister's pregnant body, he shuddered.
"Oh, God, I love you, Susan."
"Mmmm," she groaned, trying to control her arousal, trying to savor their time together and to make it last for as long as possible, "I love you too, sweet brother."
The motel room filled with the sounds and smells of animalistic, sibling sex.
As children, my sister and I had the same relationship most siblings do. We were at each other's throats half of the time, and barely tolerating each other the remaining half. Shortly after the time we reached age eighteen, Susan's wild appetites surfaced, and our generic sibling relationship would never be the same. My sister would give "togetherness" a whole new level of meaning; pressing her body against mine as we watched television late at night, exposing herself "by accident" as she exited the steamy bathroom and proceeded to dress, and otherwise teasing me mercilessly when no witnesses could see.
By the time we graduated high school, the whole game had escalated into more. One night, Susan crept into my bedroom and slid under the covers. I was sound asleep until I felt a warm body pressing against me from behind, hands exploring my body, especially my nether regions. At first, I thought I was dreaming, then came the moment I realized it was really happening, my sister was gripping my cock. This was the first time, after a slow buildup of teasing, that she crossed the barrier and committed an overtly sexual act.
Susan and I were fraternal twins. She was a little bit older, having emerged from the womb first. We didn't look exactly alike, but when I faced her, it was almost like looking into a mirror. As she started masturbating me and grinding against me from behind, my first thought was to resist, but then I relented. It was almost like fucking another version of myself. From that fateful night on, years of incestuous mischief awaited us.
Our mother, widowed at thirty-seven, held an administrative position at a local law firm, which allowed her to both support her family and save for the future. Most of the year, her work schedule synchronized with our days at school, so when we were home, so was she. Summertime, though, meant no school for us, and loads of free time to get into the usual mischief teenagers do. After that first night of passion, when we became lovers, summertime took on a whole, new meaning. Now, each weekday morning brought that magic time when Mom left for work and we remained home.
"You two stay out of trouble," Mom said most mornings as she rushed out the door. We had to smile. Susan locked the doors and we eagerly tended to each other.
Our assigned chores took only an hour or so. Most of the day was spent on my sister's bed, under the soft, warm blankets. Writhing together, our nude bodies coupled quickly, undulating insistently to completion. Susan taught me all she knew about fucking, and I tried very hard to be an ace student. By the afternoon, we had to change her bedsheets, which reeked of sex. A quick jump into the shower made us smell sweet and innocent once again.
"My, you two smell good," Mom complimented us on many a summer afternoon, "and you put clean sheets on the bed again."
To my dismay, this dream would not last. Like many independently-minded teenaged girls lacking a strong father figure, Susan developed the hard head of a pack mule and an unwavering resistance to our mother's attempts at authority. Eventually, Susan's activities outside of our loving home had become too much for Mom and, after a mother-daughter catfight over Susan's new, lesbian girlfriend, my sister exited the nest.
My sister and her lover, a short, plump, masculine terror named Theresa, who was five years her senior, took a small apartment in the seedy, low-rent (or trendy, Bohemian, depending on one's outlook) corner of town, down by the university. She had taken a job at the local shopping mall to support her fresh, new independence. There was talk of college, but Susan's objective in those first months of freedom was "to find herself". Of course, I would drop by often, gunning my little Kawasaki motorcycle across town in no time flat. Susan had kindly given me a key.
At the time, the dawn of the '80's, Susan endeavored to live the Punk lifestyle, complete with butchered, spiky blue hair that conveyed to the world her status as a Grrl. Theresa, in contrast, had a short, mannish cut dyed to a deep, bloody red which, I thought, perfectly matched her dark personality. What a motley fucking pair they made.
Perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself. Their relationship started well before Susan left home. Theresa liked her lovers young, as I would soon discover, and had been patrolling the local hangouts for young, rebellious girls. Theresa was a veteran predator, and soon had my eighteen-year-old sister wrapped around her chubby little finger. Soon, Theresa would come to the house when our mother was at work, and it didn't take long for her to join in on our incestuous activities.
I became part of their passionate relationship on a warm, summer afternoon. I discovered them nude, wrestling on my sister's bed. I knew they made love when Mom was out, but had never caught them at it. Susan usually pulled her bedroom door shut.
For the first time, I saw Theresa's nude, Rubenesque body. Her pale skin, covered with freckles and a few tattoos, had a finer texture than I had expected. Occasional patches of stretch marks broke up ample folds of smooth skin. Her thin, triangular patch had barely a hint of light auburn, and did nothing to conceal her thick, swollen pussy lips. Sensing my presence, Susan turned her gaze toward me.
"You want some, too?" my sister smiled seductively.
"Are you kidding?" I thought to myself. Watching those two going after it could get a dead man hard.
Susan nodded to her lover. Theresa, sensing fresh prey, turned her attention toward me with the intensity of a hungry tigress. Shivering with arousal, I watched as her pudgy fingers peeled away all of my clothes. My sister retreated to the corner of the bed, curling her legs underneath her, gazing intently at her naked, aroused brother. Theresa squeezed my throbbing cock, bringing her face near to it. Her full, red lips stopped within an inch of my swollen member. I waited, glancing up to my sister.
"Well," Susan hissed, her slender fingers firmly smoothing down her wet, matted bush, "suck it, bitch!"
Grinning devilishly, Theresa began to kiss my erection, pressing her thick lips underneath the sensitive helmet and, while Susan continued watching, began undulating her head against my shaft. The suction Theresa created was incredible. Not even Susan, in her most aggressive blow-jobs, took my young cock in such a forceful manner. Wincing with pleasure, I moaned softly, squirming as I felt my engorged balls slowly disappearing into Theresa's all-consuming mouth. I closed my eyes, consumed with pleasure as Theresa filled the room with a wet, slurping cacophony. After only a couple of minutes, I felt the approaching spasms of a good, hard come.
Theresa felt the twitching of my cock, sensing the oncoming orgasm, and reacted. Pulling her head back, she let my cock loose with a loud, wet smack. Teetering on the edge, I groaned in dismay, reaching for my cock to finish the job. But my tormentor had other plans.
"Uh-uh," Theresa grunted, batting my hand away from my wet pole. She rolled onto her back, siding up to my sister who, I noticed, had started fingering herself gently. Taking me into her arms, Theresa pulled me on top of her body, positioning my hips between her massive thighs. Grasping my throbbing member, she poked it into her sopping, wet snatch. Instinctively, my body took over. After fucking my sister dozens of times by then, no thought was needed for this simple action. Arching my back, I began slapping my hips against Theresa's ass with an urgent, staccato rhythm.
"Damn, kid," Theresa gasped facetiously with her thick French Canadian accent, "you've done this before, eh?"
I mentally thanked my sister for all our hours of "flight time", which was what we laughingly called my time between Susan's thighs. She even kept notes and rewarded me as we passed ten hours, twenty hours, and so on. As I rode Theresa's fat, yielding body, I watched my sister out of the corner of my eye. Susan's index finger blurred against her wet, hard clit. All three of us began to moan in unison, all approaching climax.
Susan whimpered with arousal. "Oh yeah," her voice quivered, "that's it...that's it!"
As my sister slapped her pussy through one orgasm, then two, I blew my load into Theresa, crying out with completion. Theresa, not yet satisfied, glared at me.
"Don't you stop fucking until I'm done!" she commanded angrily.
Susan's fingers, slick with juices, reached out to tease one of Theresa's huge nipples. Growling like a bitch dog in heat, Theresa clamped her powerful thighs around my body, forcing my cock as far into her hole as it could possibly go. Rallying after my initial orgasm, I continued pumping against this crazy girl and, like a rag doll caught in the claws of a wild beast, held on for dear life. Theresa's scent, much stronger than my sister's, invaded the room. It was acrid and feral, and concentrated my thoughts on one simple act. An erotic diversion had now conflagrated into animalistic Ra*e as both of our bodies dripped with fresh sweat.
Now Susan's fingers began sliding down my back, to my ass. As I labored against Theresa's body, working toward another orgasm, my sister's hand slowly massaged my tensing, undulating buttocks. Soon, her hand slid between my sweaty thighs, her fingers brushing against my swollen balls. She knew that would make her dear brother come yet again.
"How does her pussy feel?" Susan whispered breathily into my ear as I fucked her lover. "Is it slick like mine?" To our mutual delight, Theresa orgasmed as I shot yet another load.
This bizarre triangle continued for several months, often every day that Mom was not home. Now Susan and I had to change the smelly sheets, plus whisk Theresa out the door before Mom returned from work.
"My God," Susan grimaced, opening a window after a particularly long and nasty free-for-all, "Theresa's pussy smell just won't go away." There were several close calls, but Mom never hinted that she suspected anything unusual.
Soon the family fight erupted and Susan moved out. She thrashed wildly with her new freedom, spreading her body around without a thought, but also taking the full blows of consequence. Her relationship with Theresa was far from exclusive. Months passed, then a year. Her incestuous meetings with Dennis became more infrequent, as Susan's thighs were busy handling a lot of other traffic. Theresa, nurturing full-blown drug addiction, became emotionally erratic, often violent. Susan tired of the fighting and, with the help of a court order, Theresa and her rage faded from the scene.
Meanwhile, Dennis's life at home with his mother proceeded with relative ease. Mostly, he was bored shitless, coming home from community college in the afternoon to do a few chores, play basketball in the driveway, or watch a movie on the new VCR mom had bought. During the summer, he would work part-time at the supermarket, bagging groceries, but that still left a great deal of free time on his hands. His friends, some of them female, would drop by on occasion, or he would go out on an official "date", but henever stopped thinking of his twin sister. When he found some privacy, his jeans and shorts would drop to his knees, and he would stroke his aching cock, thinking of his sister and how much he needed her touch. During this time, he spent countless hours in solitude, masturbating and coming, over and over, until his dick burned with abuse. Things had to change, and Dennis made a pact with himself to get back into his sister's life.
With Theresa's departure, he began frequenting Susan's apartment more often. It became a retreat of sorts, that is, when she didn't have "guests". It had a quasi-Spartan decor, sort of a goofy clash of garish colors with a slight twinge of nihilism (in Dennis's opinion, the early '80's was not a time for anything tasteful). The frenzied, makeshift quality of the apartment conveyed the chaos of his sister's life and her countless sexual liaisons. Susan must have longed for her brother, too. He quickly noticed that she would always welcome me in, and whoever might have been there at the time was quickly whisked away.
As became her habit, Susan confided to her brother her most recent encounters. Lying on the dark green futon pad Susan had spread on the floor (it doubled as a bed whenever sleep or sex was needed), they retreated into their private world. Susan, resting her head on her brother's chest, recounted her ongoing parade of sexual encounters. Before their final parting, Susan told Dennis of her fights with Theresa, and their passionate make-up sessions. After that, she concentrated on her numerous other lovers. Her soft, cooing little-girl voice caressed each four-lettered word and erotic scenario as her hand rested on her brother's thigh.
"Then, just when the two frat guys stuck their cocks in my ass and pussy," Susan confessed casually, "this sorority chick sticks her furry cunt in my face." Her fingers twitched on Dennis's jeans. "So, what else can I do but start muff-diving, too."
She squirmed a bit. Dennis could always smell the scent of her arousal. It wasn't from her pussy; not a musky odor, but more a fresh, gentle scent from the pores of her skin. Can one detect the scent of pheromones?
"The guy in my ass was pretty small, thank god," Susan continued, "but this other guy, Roy, I think, had this monster dong. My pussy almost couldn't handle it, and then there was this old guy watching us in the corner. I think he was someone's dad."
The moment she sensed the lump in her brother's crotch, her fingers slid toward it, running around the edges. She looked up at Dennis, watching his face, as she rambled on.
"Anyhow, this chick had the biggest bush. I had to poke my tongue through this fuckin' forest before I got to her clit. Then she starts gushing all over my face. I had to swallow a couple times before she came. Then this old guy starts jacking off, just looking at us like some fuckin' serial killer."
Susan sensed her sibling breathing more heavily. Her little scenario had created the desired effect. As she had done so many times before, Susan slowly unzipped his jeans and pulled out his aching cock. Dennis gazed at her through half-closed eyes, watching her soft face draw near to it. Her mouth opened, and a sly, teasing tongue would come out and tickle the underside of his shaft.
Her baby-skin, almost unchanged since she took her first exploratory kisses against her twin brother's young cock, glowed warmly. Her mouth quickly engulfed him with warm, wet friction and her cheeks bowed with a steady suction. Sighing deeply, Dennis closed his eyes, gently placing his hand on the back of her undulating head, as the sweet noise of hydraulic slurping filled their ears.
In the still silence of the motel room, we came yet again.
Breathing heavily, I pulled my wet, glistening cock from Susan's body. Drained after two strong orgasms, I retreated, sitting on my heels. Slack-jawed, I gazed vacantly at my sister's wet, matted pussy, sorting out the disjointed thoughts in my head. I had given her a thoroughly messy ride. Gently, her hand slid into mine. I squeezed it firmly, studying the details of her face. Her thighs glistened, still apart, as if ready for more loving. Her beautiful face had that familiar, post-orgasmic softness I knew very well. Catching my breath, I studied the dated orange-and-brown pattern on the wallpaper behind the headboard of our conjugal bed. Looking back down at my lover, I observed fresh lines corralling the corners of her mouth. Susan broke the silence.
"I'm leaving Bill."
A warm glow surged through my body as my sister pulled me forward to lie beside her.
"What will you do?" I asked, fighting to keep my elation under control.
"Collect alimony. Work. Who the fuck knows?" She furrowed her brow. Susan's face surrendered more easily to deep creases these days. She still hated planning her life too far into the future.
Propping myself on a pillow, I watched the movement of her face, silhouetted in the dim light, as she continued.
"That faggot stopped touching me the moment I got pregnant," she spat, "but it didn't matter anyway. I could never come." After pausing for a moment, she continued. "Fuck this bullshit," her eyes closed tightly, "I'm tired of pretending. I'm tired of trying to meet everyone's fucked-up expectations."
"What about Beth?" I asked, referring to her daughter, the college-aged temptress at the reunion, "and," I placed my hand on her swollen stomach, "this."
Susan closed her eyes, near tears.
"The fucker's never home, so how would he know the difference?" she whispered, "Beth isn't his anyway, but he's too dumb to see that."
"And the baby," I added.
"No..." she choked, turning her penetrating, wet eyes toward mine.
My hand caressed her face, wiping away the tear streaks. In my mind, I had already left my wife to support the sister who was going to need all the help she could get.
"Just fuck me," she pleaded.
We needed to be getting back to the reunion but, at that moment, neither one of us cared. The charade was becoming dangerously close to an end. Susan's tears tasted salty as I kissed her eyes and face.
"Please fuck me now," she repeated, her voice frail with resignation, "I just want to feel good for awhile," she shuddered, "I hardly ever feel good anymore."
I positioned my body between her still-open thighs and, easily sliding my still-wet cock into my sister's body, began pumping away.
I remembered the dark nights in my bedroom before Susan left home. My sister devoured my cock, the slurping echoing off the walls, but the fear of Mom discovering us never prevented me from coming. Mom slept soundly, or so I hoped, as my sister paid her nightly visits. Thinking back on those days, I hardly ever came without my sister present. Susan kept me drained of any come and any need to come. Her slurping grew louder, bringing me back from my dream.
I awoke and it was a year later, and we were in her dingy apartment.
Blearily, I opened my eyes, staring vacantly at the ceiling, lying on the futon as my sister concentrated on drawing yet another load from my body. Suddenly, I felt Susan's body move, repositioning itself. My eyes focused to be greeted by my sister's golden-downed pussy. Her mouth released its hold my cock for a split second.
"Eat me," she whispered, then returned to her business.
Clasping my hands around Susan's smooth thighs, I pressed my mouth to her already-sopping orifice. Immediately, I heard her moan and felt the vibration of her mouth on my pulsing helmet as I plunged my tongue deep into my sister's canal. Her sucking became more vigorous as I brought my tongue back toward her swollen clit. I could feel her bracing herself, pushing her ass against my face and grinding her fur against my open mouth. My hands snaked up under her tank top, caressing her smooth flesh. My hands passed over her hard-tipped globes, giving them a gentle squeeze before returning my hands to her thighs.
Susan's steady, rhythmic action against my cock started to take its toll. I had to fight to concentrate on her pussy. My fingers began to rub her swollen cunt lips. That, plus my involuntary moaning, was pushing her to the brink.
I knew I would come soon. At that moment, I assaulted Susan's pussy with concentrated licks to her clit. I knew the exact spot that my sister loved to have worked over. With my fingers spreading her pussy wide, my tongue assaulted her slick button. Susan grunted and swayed a bit, but she never let up on the even pumping of my dick. At that moment, the dam broke.
"Oh, god, YES!" I moaned loudly, my voice muffled by my sister's ass. For a few seconds, I broke my assault on her pussy, pressing my cheek against her sopping wet cunt, shuddering as spurt after spurt of semen erupted from my cock into her hungry mouth. She held a strong suction on my tool until the spasms subsided. I heard her choke slightly, but it didn't stop her from swallowing it all. Susan knew how her brother liked it.
I was eager to make my sister come, to service her as well as she had serviced me. I pressed my open mouth against her pussy, plunging my tongue deep into her lovely orifice. Her heavenly scent intoxicated me. Immediately, she began to undulate against my face.
"Mmmm, yes, baby," Susan's voice quivered, "lick it right there." Her ass moved to the rhythm of my darting tongue. "Ohhh, yeah! That's it. Lick my spot. Lick my sweet spot!"
My hands and face felt my sister's ass tensing as her orgasm approached. She yelped.
"Oh, god, honey, I'm there, my love...I'M THERE!"
Her ass convulsed as she came. My face, coated with her juices, wriggled against her crotch as she collapsed with the onslaught of the orgasm. I had to hold my breath as my sister came and came, squeezing her ass cheeks against my face, covering it, squeezing out the sweet, sublime lightning that shot through her pussy.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," she babbled, exhaustedly humping my face as I licked her crotch, swallowing her copious juices. She finally ceased motion as my tongue cleaned up the last of her mess.
I collapsed backward as she rolled onto her side, both of us panting like marathon runners. My head and shoulders felt like lead weights. Exhausted from coming, I slowly drifted into a trance. Susan's breathing slowly turned into the light wisps of a sleeping, satisfied sister.
Countless years later, the details of that night, and the following morning, haven't faded one iota from my memory. Although the sex that night was nothing out of the ordinary for us, it marked, for me, the realization of my life's passion.
The first light of day finally caused me to blink open my eyes. The sound of Susan's slow, steady breathing filled my ears. For a long time, I lie, motionless, absorbing the details of the room in the early light. The musty night air still hung inside the apartment, having casually lingered in throughout the previous evening.
After an eternity, I dragged myself up, carefully, as to not wake my sister, and crept into the bathroom. I urinated, then removed my disheveled clothes, hanging them on a hook behind the bathroom door. Reaching into the closet, I pulled out an old, tattered bathrobe. Slipping it on, I made my way into the kitchen and began searching through the cabinets for something to eat.
Christ, the shit my sister kept in those cabinets. Twinkies. Powdered stuff. Yuck. Reaching far back, past an ancient box of Wheat Thins, I retrieved the can of coffee I had left there several months prior.
After rinsing the funk out of a battered aluminum coffee pot, I filled it halfway with tepid water, followed by several tablespoons of stale Columbian Blend. Striking a large, white-tipped kitchen match, I lit the burner on the ancient gas stove. Placing the coffee pot atop the undulating blue-yellow blossom of flame, I watched and waited for the brew to boil.
At that moment, 9:54am, Sunday, April 18, 1982, I silently surrendered to my sister. I doubted if I could live without her. After what seemed ages of mutual shoulder-leaning, warm closeness and, with time, lots of raw, nasty fucking, I realized, as the scent of simmering coffee reached my olfactory senses, there was no alternative. Like my young adult mind imagined a married couple to be, we had become one. I knew the terrain of my sister's body better than my own face.
Again, I would flash back to our first sexual encounter, when she slid into my bed in the dead of night. After that first encounter, she crept away, returning to her bedroom after we both climaxed. That continued for a week until we both grew bolder. One night, the blankets were pulled back so we could see what we were doing. Susan's body shifted clumsily as she lowered herself onto my cock for the first time. I could see myself, agape with wonder, barely comprehending the new experience and at the same time slowly sinking into the sexual addiction that would direct our relationship from then on.
Quietly, I turned on Susan's little black-and-white TV, perched on what passed for a coffee table in the center of her apartment. I rotated the whip antenna until some semblance of an image materialized on the screen. Settling into the big, overstuffed sofa, I watched the snowy, flickering screen with the volume turned down until the weather report came on.
Eventually, my eyes wandered over to my sister, sprawled nude in a mess of disheveled bedclothes. I studied the details of her soft, young body. How much I needed her, I knew. The warm closeness of someone I had known all of my life. In spite of our perennial arguments, our mutual love and needfulness never ceased.
Mom had long ago figured out where I spent so many nights. She knew nothing of our intimacy, or so I believed. Mom never domineered over me, which surprised me in light of her treatment of Susan. Perhaps she reasoned that I was a young man and, as long as she knew my whereabouts, there was no cause for worry. She could, and would, interrogate me, in that gentle way of hers, mostly without success.
It was the weekend, so I lingered, savoring the coffee, watching the snowy, flickering images on TV. As the morning wore on, the noises outside of our intimate cocoon increased. Being near the university, the neighborhood usually bustled with college students, more so when they were out for the weekend, but no one ever disturbed us, with the exception of Susan's cronies.
After a stoned ex-lover of Susan's burst in on us, mid-coitus, in the middle of the night, she painted a large, unmistakably blunt sign to hang on the door when she wished to shut out the world: KEEP THE FUCK OUT!!! I checked the front door often to make sure the red and black sheet of plywood remained there.
Stepping into the warm spray of the shower, I rubbed Susan's feminine-smelling soap all over my body, washing my hair, letting the water caress me. Grabbing the cleanest towel I could find, I returned to the living room, letting the cool draft from the tiny air conditioner envelop my body. My sister, as always, slept deeply and lengthily. Rubbing myself to some degree of dryness, I slid back under the blankets next to my sister's hot, radiant body. I pressed against her, letting my hand rest across her smooth belly.
Pressing my face against her hair, I inhaled her natural scent, closing my eyes blissfully. I held her nude body against mine. Our flesh pressed together, creating an adhesive sheen between us. Time passed, and the afternoon came. The angle of the sun had gone away from the big window in the main room, changing the shadows surrounding us. At last, my sister made waking noises. Her body twitched and shifted, pressing against me. She whispered.
"Theresa?" she questioned, her head turning slightly. Susan's breakup with Theresa was still fresh, and she had a habit of losing track of time.
I didn't reply, but rubbed her soft shoulder, nuzzling her hair gently. Susan sighed and shifted again. My body was nothing like Theresa's plump, full-breasted figure. Her hand made its way to my thigh, rubbing it gently. Arching her back slightly, she rubbed her ass lightly against my groin with a slightly demanding moan.
Oh yes, sweet sister.
I rubbed my hand across her hip, clasping it, pulling her ass cheeks apart slightly as my growing cock inched its way into her crack. We both needed some more.
My hips began moving against her as I worked my cock against her sweet wet spot, slowly moving deeper into her body. She gasped and moaned more loudly as I pushed myself in as far as I could go. Holding my sister tightly, I began thrusting against her ass, feeling the slick aftermath of our sex the night before. My speed was not hurried, and not slow, but thorough and loving, the snug cave of her pussy caressing my cock, taking care of her needs and satiating the needs she had fired in me.
Oh, sweet sister, my twin, and my eternal love. Sex was the salve that soothed our young years. The bumps and jolts of new adulthood, what Susan and I didn't solve with love, patience and words, we satisfied with fucking. It was the spackle that filled our cracks.
Ah, so many years ago.
Dennis bucked against his sister's body, coming again, violently. She yelped, pushing her ass against his thrusts. She came shortly afterward, her contractions squeezing his cock, milking out the last of his come.
The twin siblings didn't speak, their bodies said it all. Dennis remained inside her, clinging to her lovely body, for another fleeting eon. Squeezing his eyes shut, he relished the warmth of her flesh, the stillness of the room, the gentle movement of the air, and the hum of the air conditioner. Clinging to Susan, he imagined them in years past.
In the dim twilight before him, Dennis could almost see Susan's young body, nude and lovely, exposed through the open front of her bathrobe. She stood over him, emotionally an ignorant boy, stroking his hair. Often she came to his bedroom, slipping out of that old bathrobe and sliding her naked body in with his. He would roll over to face his sister. Her body was hard to resist. She slid herself up to where her budding breasts greeted his face.
Resting his hands on her waist, Dennis took one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking, gently at first, then more aggressively at her instruction, switching to the other nipple when the first one became sore, sucking on them for what seemed forever, relishing the feel of her stiff, thick buds, and the taste of her skin. Her hands rubbed the small of his back as she groaned gently.
"Ohhh, baby," Susan mumbled quietly, "that makes me sooo horny."
As she nursed her brother, Susan began to explore his buttocks and thighs. His cock, already erect, occasionally brushed against her leg, aching, waiting, begging for the moment when she turned her attention to it.
Her hands squeezed his buttocks, pulling apart the two small masses of tensing flesh. He shivered with excitement as her fingers crept inside, exposing his anus. Overcome with arousal, his suckling broke away and Dennis whimpered into her scented breasts.
"Play with my cock. Please!" He begged with a quivering voice. "Please make me come."
His sister. His twin. His other half. His savior. The beginning and the end was she, in that moment her arms encircled his body and their naked flesh drew together. Dennis's body readily absorbed her pure love, seasoned with fresh sibling lust. Pressing their lips together, Susan captured his soul in that sublime moment when his hardness, his center, became engulfed in her loving wetness, squeezing, yielding to him as he slid into his sister's beautiful folds.
Mom could sleep through almost anything (or did she?) as their bodies gently moved against each other. At the start, the only sound that interrupted their steady breathing was the gentle creaking of the golden brass bedframe. Susan raised her leg, allowing Dennis to enter her more deeply. Soon, his slick, lunging cock glistened with her arousal. Their bodies synchronized, moving together silently in a perfect fucking motion. Susan's hot breath washed over his face each time she exhaled. Her hard nipples brushed against his, the electric spark firing their lust even higher.
With a stifled shudder, Dennis came. Susan came.
And they still come. Now in our thirties, they've made an art out of grabbing stolen moments to share their love. Although circumstances kept them apart, they still found time to meet for a family reunion of their own. It was their special refuge, no matter what else happened in the world, or in their lives. They found a remote refuge to relive the days of their youth, and to share and celebrate the sibling love that has never died.
Susan's breasts have developed a slight sag over the years, and her skin has lost some of the resilience of their days in that ratty apartment. He notices, but it doesn't quell his excitement. The need glows inside their bodies, still strong after so many years.
And it does so, brightly. The gentle slapping of their bodies together start the birthing process, and they end the evening in the emergency room with Susan giving birth to a healthy boy. Soon, the family gathers and Dennis blends into their crowding chatter. His mother gives him an odd, penetrating look after seeing the baby.
But it couldn't be mine. My sister and I are much too careful. Could it be?
My Twin Sister, My Lover - Episodes from the lives of two incestuous siblings.
A sharp creak echoed through the nocturnal stillness of the house. An old floor betrayed the bare feet passing gently over its wooden slats. With the turn of a glass doorknob, a heavy door swung open for a second, admitted a body, then quickly shut. The figure, a lithe, young woman of eighteen, moved quickly to the bed. She slid quietly beneath the pale blue sheets, sidling against the young man sleeping there. Her voice hardly rippled the blackness in the room as she whispered.
"Dennis."
Sensing no response from the sleeping figure, she brushed her lips against his ear.
"Dennis." For a moment, she considered abandoning the insane situation and returning to her own bed.
God, what am I doing? This is so wrong, but I need it so much.
Her moist breath passed over his cheek. Under the soft, cotton sheets, her hand moved up and down his bare thigh. She had pulled her flowered nightgown up to her waist, and her exposed body urgently pressed against him. Still in sleep, he reacted to her touch. His breathing paused, then resumed. His warm body flexed, almost imperceptibly, then began to press back against her bare pelvis. Elation washed over the young woman's body.
Ohhh, yes. But what will he do when he wakes up?
"Sweet Dennis," she sighed, as she rubbed her hand over his flat stomach in a slow, circular motion. Her fingers slid furtively beneath the elastic band of his white shorts, caressing his silky, brown pubic hair.
So soft. God, yes, I love it.
Within moments, his penis began to stir, becoming tumescent against her slender hand, then growing larger, making a miniscule tent pole in the front of his shorts. As her fingers wrapped around his hardness, he awakened with a mild shudder.
"What are you doing?" he whispered, his eyes still closed.
"Be still," she cooed. "You'll like it".
The young man, also eighteen, loved and trusted her, so he let her continue the caresses. Gripping his erection firmly, she began to pump it, slowly, at first, then more briskly, until she found a comfortable rhythm. Within time, he began to breathe more heavily. Still pressed against her body, he began to undulate against her hand, his strong buttocks flexing and pressing firmly against her burning bush.
"Oh, Jesus," the young man whispered. "This feels so good."
"That's what it's supposed to feel like, honey." She squeezed, making him shudder. "Sweet, sweet Dennis," the young woman rubbed her pussy against her brother, her twin, until both climaxed in the still of the night.
"Son of a bitch," Dennis thought, keeping an eye on the slow-moving propane truck lumbering ahead of him, "I'm stranded smack in the middle of another family reunion."
Not that he harbored ill will toward any member of his family, but Dennis preferred interacting with relatives one at a time. Every year, he forced himself to make the long drive south to the small Arizona town in which he was born. His marriage, childless and moribund after twelve years, gave him the perfect excuse to leave behind the wife he no longer loved, at least for a day. Standing outside the red brick VFW hall, he concentrated on the true reason for his attendance.
Here we go.
Taking a deep breath, he plunged into a large roomful of his brethren. After some glad-handing, he went through the obligatory recounting of the past year of his life, in detail, to throngs of well-meaning, mostly elderly relatives.
"Where's Lillian?" one of them would always ask, referring to Dennis's wife.
"She had to stay home, I'm afraid," he lied. "I think she has a touch of the flu."
Bullshit Excuse #7 worked well, if not used too often. It was perfect for distant relatives with poor memories of the previous year's reunion.
"Oh, what a shame!" cried the short, grey dowager beside him. Aunt Betty emoted so much saccharine passion when she spoke. This gathering seemed to be the only thing that dragged her into the sunlight each year, and she made the most out of it. "That poor, dear girl always has a touch of something."
Hmmm. Old Auntie's memory isn't so bad, after all.
After breaking free of the geriatric crowd, he milled through a smattering of other individuals, lingering on a pretty niece whose well-endowed body belied her youth. Studying the snug, black dress sheathing her ample figure, he tried to guess the color of her pubes, since her short-cropped hair had been severely bleached. Oh, what a sweet little fuck she would be.
"Where's your mother?" I asked the seductive nymphet.
Before the answer could escape from her pouty, red lips, Dennis spotted his asshole brother-in-law, Bill, milling his way toward them.
Shit.
Bill slid up behind his sexy daughter, squeezing her bare shoulder pronouncedly.
"Well," he asked Dennis with that booming, big-shot voice of his, "what do you think of her?"
Let me take her out back for a quick fuck, then I can tell you, and with the right coach, namely me, her luscious little mouth could blow cock like a well-paid pro.
"She's a beautiful girl," he replied to Bill, nonchalantly, quelling the tinges of lust in his voice.
"This is her first year of college," Bill beamed. "She's studying to be an RN."
"That's wonderful!" Perhaps Dennis smiled a little too much when he said that. He envied the lucky guy who would take her cherry, if she still had one. The erotic seductress shot him a flirtatious glance, as if reading his mind, before disappearing into the crowd. Silently, he mourned her departure.
Goodbye, little fuck. Perhaps I can taste your sweet pussy sometime.
Over Bill's pinstriped shoulder, Dennis noticed a cute blonde approaching; Susan, his twin sister, and Bill's wife of fourteen years. Well into her second pregnancy and about to pop, she walked with slight difficulty but, to her credit, the purple designer maternity dress managed to make her look as sexy as any woman in the room.
"Hello, honey," Susan twittered in a high, superficial voice. His sister hugged and kissed him distractedly. His arms reached out to encompass her extra girth, as her swollen stomach pressed against him. "How are you, sweetheart?" she asked, as if not caring to know the answer. What a performance.
"Fine," Dennis smiled, observing her condition. "It looks like you're about to give it up."
"Should be any time, now," she sighed, sharing a look with her husband.
Dennis glanced at her breasts, swollen with milk and bigger than they had ever been, even during her first pregnancy, so many years ago. Her enlarged nipples were impossible to conceal. Even with layers of fabric covering them, he could see the distinct, half-moon ridge of an areola. That kid would have a mouthful. As Bill's gaze turned away, Dennis glared at his sister.
"Are you kidding?" his eyes asked her incredulously, referring to her husband. Not yet forty, Bill had obviously begun coloring his thinning hair. Why his sister had stayed with such a dipshit, and for such a long time, Dennis could never understand. Susan gave him that familiar leer.
"Behave yourself," she telepathed.
"Fine," Dennis thought. "As long as I can have some, too."
As he conceded to some bullshit conversation, dominated mostly by Bill, the tension began. Dennis eyed his sister intently, studying her face and the movement of her eyes.
"Look at me, damn it," he begged her silently. "Give me a sign." When another alpha-male in-law distracted Bill, he pulled Susan aside.
"So when can we go?" Dennis whispered, touching her.
"Patience, baby," she smiled gently. "We'll go soon, but we have to be careful." Her hand covered his, pressing it against her warm skin.
Within fifteen minutes, Susan began to feign illness. She disappeared into the ladies room for a few moments, then returned, looking decidedly peaked. She should have won an award. Her husband never suspected. After only minutes, Susan and her brother escaped on a shaky pretense. Susan needed some fresh air, so Dennis would take her for a drive; a very long drive. She could breathe the dry air, and they could talk and catch up on our lives. Bill would stay at the reunion and chaperone his succulent little piece of college-aged ass. As for the rest, fuck 'em if they think it odd.
At last, Dennis had Susan to himself. As she entered the air-conditioned vault of his baby blue Oldsmobile, he helped his sister adjust and fasten the lap belt and shoulder harness. Touching her smooth shoulder, he could hardly quell his lust. His lips pressed against her scented neck.
"Careful," she whispered, looking ahead as if I'd done nothing, "we're not free yet."
Dennis gunned the motor and they got the hell away.
The sun waned behind the sand-colored hills in the distance. He had shut off the air conditioner as his sister rolled down the windows. The late-afternoon air blew across his face, carrying a calming, organic scent. They had been driving for about half-an-hour when Susan spotted a decent-looking motel, nestled in a grove of trees, far from the lonely highway.
"This looks fine, babe," she said. Her voice had changed, now that they were alone, into that intimate, loving voice; her real voice, not that of Bill and his fabricated world.
Oh yes, sweet sister.
Dennis nosed the car onto the drive. With gravel crunching beneath the tires, he angled the sedan past the side of the shingled main building, parking out of sight of the highway. The place looked old, but well-kept. The elderly caretaker smelled of pipe smoke and Old Spice. Forty dollars was a pretty good deal for this time of year, but anything would have been a bargain. After retrieving a small, token suitcase from the trunk, Dennis led Susan to their room. The moment the door closed, Susan and her brother locked in a tight embrace.
"Sweet baby," he whispered in the dim, murky light, "I missed you so much."
"Ohhh, Dennis," Susan exhaled, her lips touching his ear, "I really need some love."
The sibling ritual began.
For a sweet, lingering moment, their mouths devoured each other noisily, tongues lashing out like battling serpents as saliva dampened their faces. Susan practically tore her brother's shirt off, tossing it aside, as he quickly dropped my trousers and boxer shorts. In spite of her condition, she lunged forward like a panther, pushing him against the wall. Her open mouth pressed against his chest, kissing it and exploring it with her tongue. Dennis closed my eyes momentarily, lost in the excitement of their long overdue reunion.
"Oh, baby," he shuddered, "you know what I want."
Her lips glistening wetly, Susan began to tease his left nipple with her teeth. The teasing turned into suckling as he moaned with pleasure, pressing his face into her hair. Her hand encircled his cock, squeezing it and stroking it slowly. The scent of his sister's flesh, mixed with that familiar perfume she always wore for him, filled his nostrils as he inhaled deeply. Their bodies pressed together, and his erection poked awkwardly against her swollen belly, making her giggle involuntarily. Breaking her suction, Susan turned her face to his.
"Get me naked," she whispered.
Susan pulled her hair aside as Dennis unbuttoned the back of her dress. Kissing her neck gently, he pulled the dress away from her shoulders, letting it slip to her feet. Her bare skin reflected the meager light from the bathroom. His fingers nestled in the curve of her back as he led his sister to the king-sized bed.
As they sat on the flowered bedspread, Dennis helped Susan unhook her bra. Gently, he peeled the fabric away from her engorged mounds. Reacting to the cool air, her areolas puckered and her dark, red nipples became hard and pointed. Kneeling at her feet, he slid her panty hose down her parted legs, gazing at her exposed body. As she had done for years, Susan kept her sweet little bush trimmed in a perfect triangle. She knew how much her brother loved to press his face into her silky floss. As he reverently kissed the inside of each thigh, he listened to her breathing becoming more audible, and smelled the gentle musk of her need. Gazing into her beautiful, gleaming brown eyes, he rubbed her swollen stomach.
"It's almost nine months to the day," he smiled, recalling their last meeting. He cupped her heavy breasts, lifting them, slightly awestruck by their sheer bulk.
"Suck them," she said, then, smiling, added, "they'll dribble all over if you don't."
Nuzzling her thick, erect nipple, Dennis began to suckle his sister's breast, pressing his face into the soft, pillowy mound as his hands clasped around her naked, rounded hips. She sighed with pleasure as he began to draw out mouthful after mouthful of warm, rich fluid. Some of the milk escaped the vacuum of his mouth, trickling down his chin and across his chest. A rhythmic sucking noise filled his ears as he drained Susan's supply. Soon, the flow began to ebb.
"Get the other one, too," she commanded gently. His hungry mouth released her wet nipple and quickly turned to the other, sucking powerfully, as he knew she liked it. "Mmmm," she moaned, running her fingers through his hair, "I never get tired of this." Dennis knew it was true. Whether she was pregnant or not, he could suck his sister's tits for hours, not only before, but after sex, after they had both come.
Back when Dennis had a fully functioning marriage, his wife's nipples would be very sensitive after sex. She would cover her breasts with her arms, then roll over, facing away from him, as if he'd done something wrong by trying to touch them again. Eventually, he learned the best thing to do was to go to sleep, and leave Lillian to her own devices. With Susan, tit-sucking was merely part of a long, slow buildup to another hot round of sex.
As Susan fed Dennis the last of her milk, his hands slid gently around her waist, down to her thighs. Slowly, he brushed against her thick, blonde patch, caressing the swollen lips of her pussy. After having one child and preparing for another, her pussy had enlarged considerably. Parting her legs slightly, she sighed.
"Be careful, baby, you might start it," she whispered, referring to her late-term pregnancy. But she needed to fuck, and he did, too, and the baby was due anyway.
Gently pushing her back on the bed, Dennis slid between Susan's legs, pressing his hips against hers. With hardly a push, his cock slid into her sopping, wet pussy. Not much friction was there, but none was expected. As he gently began to pump against his sister's pregnant body, he shuddered.
"Oh, God, I love you, Susan."
"Mmmm," she groaned, trying to control her arousal, trying to savor their time together and to make it last for as long as possible, "I love you too, sweet brother."
The motel room filled with the sounds and smells of animalistic, sibling sex.
As children, my sister and I had the same relationship most siblings do. We were at each other's throats half of the time, and barely tolerating each other the remaining half. Shortly after the time we reached age eighteen, Susan's wild appetites surfaced, and our generic sibling relationship would never be the same. My sister would give "togetherness" a whole new level of meaning; pressing her body against mine as we watched television late at night, exposing herself "by accident" as she exited the steamy bathroom and proceeded to dress, and otherwise teasing me mercilessly when no witnesses could see.
By the time we graduated high school, the whole game had escalated into more. One night, Susan crept into my bedroom and slid under the covers. I was sound asleep until I felt a warm body pressing against me from behind, hands exploring my body, especially my nether regions. At first, I thought I was dreaming, then came the moment I realized it was really happening, my sister was gripping my cock. This was the first time, after a slow buildup of teasing, that she crossed the barrier and committed an overtly sexual act.
Susan and I were fraternal twins. She was a little bit older, having emerged from the womb first. We didn't look exactly alike, but when I faced her, it was almost like looking into a mirror. As she started masturbating me and grinding against me from behind, my first thought was to resist, but then I relented. It was almost like fucking another version of myself. From that fateful night on, years of incestuous mischief awaited us.
Our mother, widowed at thirty-seven, held an administrative position at a local law firm, which allowed her to both support her family and save for the future. Most of the year, her work schedule synchronized with our days at school, so when we were home, so was she. Summertime, though, meant no school for us, and loads of free time to get into the usual mischief teenagers do. After that first night of passion, when we became lovers, summertime took on a whole, new meaning. Now, each weekday morning brought that magic time when Mom left for work and we remained home.
"You two stay out of trouble," Mom said most mornings as she rushed out the door. We had to smile. Susan locked the doors and we eagerly tended to each other.
Our assigned chores took only an hour or so. Most of the day was spent on my sister's bed, under the soft, warm blankets. Writhing together, our nude bodies coupled quickly, undulating insistently to completion. Susan taught me all she knew about fucking, and I tried very hard to be an ace student. By the afternoon, we had to change her bedsheets, which reeked of sex. A quick jump into the shower made us smell sweet and innocent once again.
"My, you two smell good," Mom complimented us on many a summer afternoon, "and you put clean sheets on the bed again."
To my dismay, this dream would not last. Like many independently-minded teenaged girls lacking a strong father figure, Susan developed the hard head of a pack mule and an unwavering resistance to our mother's attempts at authority. Eventually, Susan's activities outside of our loving home had become too much for Mom and, after a mother-daughter catfight over Susan's new, lesbian girlfriend, my sister exited the nest.
My sister and her lover, a short, plump, masculine terror named Theresa, who was five years her senior, took a small apartment in the seedy, low-rent (or trendy, Bohemian, depending on one's outlook) corner of town, down by the university. She had taken a job at the local shopping mall to support her fresh, new independence. There was talk of college, but Susan's objective in those first months of freedom was "to find herself". Of course, I would drop by often, gunning my little Kawasaki motorcycle across town in no time flat. Susan had kindly given me a key.
At the time, the dawn of the '80's, Susan endeavored to live the Punk lifestyle, complete with butchered, spiky blue hair that conveyed to the world her status as a Grrl. Theresa, in contrast, had a short, mannish cut dyed to a deep, bloody red which, I thought, perfectly matched her dark personality. What a motley fucking pair they made.
Perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself. Their relationship started well before Susan left home. Theresa liked her lovers young, as I would soon discover, and had been patrolling the local hangouts for young, rebellious girls. Theresa was a veteran predator, and soon had my eighteen-year-old sister wrapped around her chubby little finger. Soon, Theresa would come to the house when our mother was at work, and it didn't take long for her to join in on our incestuous activities.
I became part of their passionate relationship on a warm, summer afternoon. I discovered them nude, wrestling on my sister's bed. I knew they made love when Mom was out, but had never caught them at it. Susan usually pulled her bedroom door shut.
For the first time, I saw Theresa's nude, Rubenesque body. Her pale skin, covered with freckles and a few tattoos, had a finer texture than I had expected. Occasional patches of stretch marks broke up ample folds of smooth skin. Her thin, triangular patch had barely a hint of light auburn, and did nothing to conceal her thick, swollen pussy lips. Sensing my presence, Susan turned her gaze toward me.
"You want some, too?" my sister smiled seductively.
"Are you kidding?" I thought to myself. Watching those two going after it could get a dead man hard.
Susan nodded to her lover. Theresa, sensing fresh prey, turned her attention toward me with the intensity of a hungry tigress. Shivering with arousal, I watched as her pudgy fingers peeled away all of my clothes. My sister retreated to the corner of the bed, curling her legs underneath her, gazing intently at her naked, aroused brother. Theresa squeezed my throbbing cock, bringing her face near to it. Her full, red lips stopped within an inch of my swollen member. I waited, glancing up to my sister.
"Well," Susan hissed, her slender fingers firmly smoothing down her wet, matted bush, "suck it, bitch!"
Grinning devilishly, Theresa began to kiss my erection, pressing her thick lips underneath the sensitive helmet and, while Susan continued watching, began undulating her head against my shaft. The suction Theresa created was incredible. Not even Susan, in her most aggressive blow-jobs, took my young cock in such a forceful manner. Wincing with pleasure, I moaned softly, squirming as I felt my engorged balls slowly disappearing into Theresa's all-consuming mouth. I closed my eyes, consumed with pleasure as Theresa filled the room with a wet, slurping cacophony. After only a couple of minutes, I felt the approaching spasms of a good, hard come.
Theresa felt the twitching of my cock, sensing the oncoming orgasm, and reacted. Pulling her head back, she let my cock loose with a loud, wet smack. Teetering on the edge, I groaned in dismay, reaching for my cock to finish the job. But my tormentor had other plans.
"Uh-uh," Theresa grunted, batting my hand away from my wet pole. She rolled onto her back, siding up to my sister who, I noticed, had started fingering herself gently. Taking me into her arms, Theresa pulled me on top of her body, positioning my hips between her massive thighs. Grasping my throbbing member, she poked it into her sopping, wet snatch. Instinctively, my body took over. After fucking my sister dozens of times by then, no thought was needed for this simple action. Arching my back, I began slapping my hips against Theresa's ass with an urgent, staccato rhythm.
"Damn, kid," Theresa gasped facetiously with her thick French Canadian accent, "you've done this before, eh?"
I mentally thanked my sister for all our hours of "flight time", which was what we laughingly called my time between Susan's thighs. She even kept notes and rewarded me as we passed ten hours, twenty hours, and so on. As I rode Theresa's fat, yielding body, I watched my sister out of the corner of my eye. Susan's index finger blurred against her wet, hard clit. All three of us began to moan in unison, all approaching climax.
Susan whimpered with arousal. "Oh yeah," her voice quivered, "that's it...that's it!"
As my sister slapped her pussy through one orgasm, then two, I blew my load into Theresa, crying out with completion. Theresa, not yet satisfied, glared at me.
"Don't you stop fucking until I'm done!" she commanded angrily.
Susan's fingers, slick with juices, reached out to tease one of Theresa's huge nipples. Growling like a bitch dog in heat, Theresa clamped her powerful thighs around my body, forcing my cock as far into her hole as it could possibly go. Rallying after my initial orgasm, I continued pumping against this crazy girl and, like a rag doll caught in the claws of a wild beast, held on for dear life. Theresa's scent, much stronger than my sister's, invaded the room. It was acrid and feral, and concentrated my thoughts on one simple act. An erotic diversion had now conflagrated into animalistic Ra*e as both of our bodies dripped with fresh sweat.
Now Susan's fingers began sliding down my back, to my ass. As I labored against Theresa's body, working toward another orgasm, my sister's hand slowly massaged my tensing, undulating buttocks. Soon, her hand slid between my sweaty thighs, her fingers brushing against my swollen balls. She knew that would make her dear brother come yet again.
"How does her pussy feel?" Susan whispered breathily into my ear as I fucked her lover. "Is it slick like mine?" To our mutual delight, Theresa orgasmed as I shot yet another load.
This bizarre triangle continued for several months, often every day that Mom was not home. Now Susan and I had to change the smelly sheets, plus whisk Theresa out the door before Mom returned from work.
"My God," Susan grimaced, opening a window after a particularly long and nasty free-for-all, "Theresa's pussy smell just won't go away." There were several close calls, but Mom never hinted that she suspected anything unusual.
Soon the family fight erupted and Susan moved out. She thrashed wildly with her new freedom, spreading her body around without a thought, but also taking the full blows of consequence. Her relationship with Theresa was far from exclusive. Months passed, then a year. Her incestuous meetings with Dennis became more infrequent, as Susan's thighs were busy handling a lot of other traffic. Theresa, nurturing full-blown drug addiction, became emotionally erratic, often violent. Susan tired of the fighting and, with the help of a court order, Theresa and her rage faded from the scene.
Meanwhile, Dennis's life at home with his mother proceeded with relative ease. Mostly, he was bored shitless, coming home from community college in the afternoon to do a few chores, play basketball in the driveway, or watch a movie on the new VCR mom had bought. During the summer, he would work part-time at the supermarket, bagging groceries, but that still left a great deal of free time on his hands. His friends, some of them female, would drop by on occasion, or he would go out on an official "date", but henever stopped thinking of his twin sister. When he found some privacy, his jeans and shorts would drop to his knees, and he would stroke his aching cock, thinking of his sister and how much he needed her touch. During this time, he spent countless hours in solitude, masturbating and coming, over and over, until his dick burned with abuse. Things had to change, and Dennis made a pact with himself to get back into his sister's life.
With Theresa's departure, he began frequenting Susan's apartment more often. It became a retreat of sorts, that is, when she didn't have "guests". It had a quasi-Spartan decor, sort of a goofy clash of garish colors with a slight twinge of nihilism (in Dennis's opinion, the early '80's was not a time for anything tasteful). The frenzied, makeshift quality of the apartment conveyed the chaos of his sister's life and her countless sexual liaisons. Susan must have longed for her brother, too. He quickly noticed that she would always welcome me in, and whoever might have been there at the time was quickly whisked away.
As became her habit, Susan confided to her brother her most recent encounters. Lying on the dark green futon pad Susan had spread on the floor (it doubled as a bed whenever sleep or sex was needed), they retreated into their private world. Susan, resting her head on her brother's chest, recounted her ongoing parade of sexual encounters. Before their final parting, Susan told Dennis of her fights with Theresa, and their passionate make-up sessions. After that, she concentrated on her numerous other lovers. Her soft, cooing little-girl voice caressed each four-lettered word and erotic scenario as her hand rested on her brother's thigh.
"Then, just when the two frat guys stuck their cocks in my ass and pussy," Susan confessed casually, "this sorority chick sticks her furry cunt in my face." Her fingers twitched on Dennis's jeans. "So, what else can I do but start muff-diving, too."
She squirmed a bit. Dennis could always smell the scent of her arousal. It wasn't from her pussy; not a musky odor, but more a fresh, gentle scent from the pores of her skin. Can one detect the scent of pheromones?
"The guy in my ass was pretty small, thank god," Susan continued, "but this other guy, Roy, I think, had this monster dong. My pussy almost couldn't handle it, and then there was this old guy watching us in the corner. I think he was someone's dad."
The moment she sensed the lump in her brother's crotch, her fingers slid toward it, running around the edges. She looked up at Dennis, watching his face, as she rambled on.
"Anyhow, this chick had the biggest bush. I had to poke my tongue through this fuckin' forest before I got to her clit. Then she starts gushing all over my face. I had to swallow a couple times before she came. Then this old guy starts jacking off, just looking at us like some fuckin' serial killer."
Susan sensed her sibling breathing more heavily. Her little scenario had created the desired effect. As she had done so many times before, Susan slowly unzipped his jeans and pulled out his aching cock. Dennis gazed at her through half-closed eyes, watching her soft face draw near to it. Her mouth opened, and a sly, teasing tongue would come out and tickle the underside of his shaft.
Her baby-skin, almost unchanged since she took her first exploratory kisses against her twin brother's young cock, glowed warmly. Her mouth quickly engulfed him with warm, wet friction and her cheeks bowed with a steady suction. Sighing deeply, Dennis closed his eyes, gently placing his hand on the back of her undulating head, as the sweet noise of hydraulic slurping filled their ears.
In the still silence of the motel room, we came yet again.
Breathing heavily, I pulled my wet, glistening cock from Susan's body. Drained after two strong orgasms, I retreated, sitting on my heels. Slack-jawed, I gazed vacantly at my sister's wet, matted pussy, sorting out the disjointed thoughts in my head. I had given her a thoroughly messy ride. Gently, her hand slid into mine. I squeezed it firmly, studying the details of her face. Her thighs glistened, still apart, as if ready for more loving. Her beautiful face had that familiar, post-orgasmic softness I knew very well. Catching my breath, I studied the dated orange-and-brown pattern on the wallpaper behind the headboard of our conjugal bed. Looking back down at my lover, I observed fresh lines corralling the corners of her mouth. Susan broke the silence.
"I'm leaving Bill."
A warm glow surged through my body as my sister pulled me forward to lie beside her.
"What will you do?" I asked, fighting to keep my elation under control.
"Collect alimony. Work. Who the fuck knows?" She furrowed her brow. Susan's face surrendered more easily to deep creases these days. She still hated planning her life too far into the future.
Propping myself on a pillow, I watched the movement of her face, silhouetted in the dim light, as she continued.
"That faggot stopped touching me the moment I got pregnant," she spat, "but it didn't matter anyway. I could never come." After pausing for a moment, she continued. "Fuck this bullshit," her eyes closed tightly, "I'm tired of pretending. I'm tired of trying to meet everyone's fucked-up expectations."
"What about Beth?" I asked, referring to her daughter, the college-aged temptress at the reunion, "and," I placed my hand on her swollen stomach, "this."
Susan closed her eyes, near tears.
"The fucker's never home, so how would he know the difference?" she whispered, "Beth isn't his anyway, but he's too dumb to see that."
"And the baby," I added.
"No..." she choked, turning her penetrating, wet eyes toward mine.
My hand caressed her face, wiping away the tear streaks. In my mind, I had already left my wife to support the sister who was going to need all the help she could get.
"Just fuck me," she pleaded.
We needed to be getting back to the reunion but, at that moment, neither one of us cared. The charade was becoming dangerously close to an end. Susan's tears tasted salty as I kissed her eyes and face.
"Please fuck me now," she repeated, her voice frail with resignation, "I just want to feel good for awhile," she shuddered, "I hardly ever feel good anymore."
I positioned my body between her still-open thighs and, easily sliding my still-wet cock into my sister's body, began pumping away.
I remembered the dark nights in my bedroom before Susan left home. My sister devoured my cock, the slurping echoing off the walls, but the fear of Mom discovering us never prevented me from coming. Mom slept soundly, or so I hoped, as my sister paid her nightly visits. Thinking back on those days, I hardly ever came without my sister present. Susan kept me drained of any come and any need to come. Her slurping grew louder, bringing me back from my dream.
I awoke and it was a year later, and we were in her dingy apartment.
Blearily, I opened my eyes, staring vacantly at the ceiling, lying on the futon as my sister concentrated on drawing yet another load from my body. Suddenly, I felt Susan's body move, repositioning itself. My eyes focused to be greeted by my sister's golden-downed pussy. Her mouth released its hold my cock for a split second.
"Eat me," she whispered, then returned to her business.
Clasping my hands around Susan's smooth thighs, I pressed my mouth to her already-sopping orifice. Immediately, I heard her moan and felt the vibration of her mouth on my pulsing helmet as I plunged my tongue deep into my sister's canal. Her sucking became more vigorous as I brought my tongue back toward her swollen clit. I could feel her bracing herself, pushing her ass against my face and grinding her fur against my open mouth. My hands snaked up under her tank top, caressing her smooth flesh. My hands passed over her hard-tipped globes, giving them a gentle squeeze before returning my hands to her thighs.
Susan's steady, rhythmic action against my cock started to take its toll. I had to fight to concentrate on her pussy. My fingers began to rub her swollen cunt lips. That, plus my involuntary moaning, was pushing her to the brink.
I knew I would come soon. At that moment, I assaulted Susan's pussy with concentrated licks to her clit. I knew the exact spot that my sister loved to have worked over. With my fingers spreading her pussy wide, my tongue assaulted her slick button. Susan grunted and swayed a bit, but she never let up on the even pumping of my dick. At that moment, the dam broke.
"Oh, god, YES!" I moaned loudly, my voice muffled by my sister's ass. For a few seconds, I broke my assault on her pussy, pressing my cheek against her sopping wet cunt, shuddering as spurt after spurt of semen erupted from my cock into her hungry mouth. She held a strong suction on my tool until the spasms subsided. I heard her choke slightly, but it didn't stop her from swallowing it all. Susan knew how her brother liked it.
I was eager to make my sister come, to service her as well as she had serviced me. I pressed my open mouth against her pussy, plunging my tongue deep into her lovely orifice. Her heavenly scent intoxicated me. Immediately, she began to undulate against my face.
"Mmmm, yes, baby," Susan's voice quivered, "lick it right there." Her ass moved to the rhythm of my darting tongue. "Ohhh, yeah! That's it. Lick my spot. Lick my sweet spot!"
My hands and face felt my sister's ass tensing as her orgasm approached. She yelped.
"Oh, god, honey, I'm there, my love...I'M THERE!"
Her ass convulsed as she came. My face, coated with her juices, wriggled against her crotch as she collapsed with the onslaught of the orgasm. I had to hold my breath as my sister came and came, squeezing her ass cheeks against my face, covering it, squeezing out the sweet, sublime lightning that shot through her pussy.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," she babbled, exhaustedly humping my face as I licked her crotch, swallowing her copious juices. She finally ceased motion as my tongue cleaned up the last of her mess.
I collapsed backward as she rolled onto her side, both of us panting like marathon runners. My head and shoulders felt like lead weights. Exhausted from coming, I slowly drifted into a trance. Susan's breathing slowly turned into the light wisps of a sleeping, satisfied sister.
Countless years later, the details of that night, and the following morning, haven't faded one iota from my memory. Although the sex that night was nothing out of the ordinary for us, it marked, for me, the realization of my life's passion.
The first light of day finally caused me to blink open my eyes. The sound of Susan's slow, steady breathing filled my ears. For a long time, I lie, motionless, absorbing the details of the room in the early light. The musty night air still hung inside the apartment, having casually lingered in throughout the previous evening.
After an eternity, I dragged myself up, carefully, as to not wake my sister, and crept into the bathroom. I urinated, then removed my disheveled clothes, hanging them on a hook behind the bathroom door. Reaching into the closet, I pulled out an old, tattered bathrobe. Slipping it on, I made my way into the kitchen and began searching through the cabinets for something to eat.
Christ, the shit my sister kept in those cabinets. Twinkies. Powdered stuff. Yuck. Reaching far back, past an ancient box of Wheat Thins, I retrieved the can of coffee I had left there several months prior.
After rinsing the funk out of a battered aluminum coffee pot, I filled it halfway with tepid water, followed by several tablespoons of stale Columbian Blend. Striking a large, white-tipped kitchen match, I lit the burner on the ancient gas stove. Placing the coffee pot atop the undulating blue-yellow blossom of flame, I watched and waited for the brew to boil.
At that moment, 9:54am, Sunday, April 18, 1982, I silently surrendered to my sister. I doubted if I could live without her. After what seemed ages of mutual shoulder-leaning, warm closeness and, with time, lots of raw, nasty fucking, I realized, as the scent of simmering coffee reached my olfactory senses, there was no alternative. Like my young adult mind imagined a married couple to be, we had become one. I knew the terrain of my sister's body better than my own face.
Again, I would flash back to our first sexual encounter, when she slid into my bed in the dead of night. After that first encounter, she crept away, returning to her bedroom after we both climaxed. That continued for a week until we both grew bolder. One night, the blankets were pulled back so we could see what we were doing. Susan's body shifted clumsily as she lowered herself onto my cock for the first time. I could see myself, agape with wonder, barely comprehending the new experience and at the same time slowly sinking into the sexual addiction that would direct our relationship from then on.
Quietly, I turned on Susan's little black-and-white TV, perched on what passed for a coffee table in the center of her apartment. I rotated the whip antenna until some semblance of an image materialized on the screen. Settling into the big, overstuffed sofa, I watched the snowy, flickering screen with the volume turned down until the weather report came on.
Eventually, my eyes wandered over to my sister, sprawled nude in a mess of disheveled bedclothes. I studied the details of her soft, young body. How much I needed her, I knew. The warm closeness of someone I had known all of my life. In spite of our perennial arguments, our mutual love and needfulness never ceased.
Mom had long ago figured out where I spent so many nights. She knew nothing of our intimacy, or so I believed. Mom never domineered over me, which surprised me in light of her treatment of Susan. Perhaps she reasoned that I was a young man and, as long as she knew my whereabouts, there was no cause for worry. She could, and would, interrogate me, in that gentle way of hers, mostly without success.
It was the weekend, so I lingered, savoring the coffee, watching the snowy, flickering images on TV. As the morning wore on, the noises outside of our intimate cocoon increased. Being near the university, the neighborhood usually bustled with college students, more so when they were out for the weekend, but no one ever disturbed us, with the exception of Susan's cronies.
After a stoned ex-lover of Susan's burst in on us, mid-coitus, in the middle of the night, she painted a large, unmistakably blunt sign to hang on the door when she wished to shut out the world: KEEP THE FUCK OUT!!! I checked the front door often to make sure the red and black sheet of plywood remained there.
Stepping into the warm spray of the shower, I rubbed Susan's feminine-smelling soap all over my body, washing my hair, letting the water caress me. Grabbing the cleanest towel I could find, I returned to the living room, letting the cool draft from the tiny air conditioner envelop my body. My sister, as always, slept deeply and lengthily. Rubbing myself to some degree of dryness, I slid back under the blankets next to my sister's hot, radiant body. I pressed against her, letting my hand rest across her smooth belly.
Pressing my face against her hair, I inhaled her natural scent, closing my eyes blissfully. I held her nude body against mine. Our flesh pressed together, creating an adhesive sheen between us. Time passed, and the afternoon came. The angle of the sun had gone away from the big window in the main room, changing the shadows surrounding us. At last, my sister made waking noises. Her body twitched and shifted, pressing against me. She whispered.
"Theresa?" she questioned, her head turning slightly. Susan's breakup with Theresa was still fresh, and she had a habit of losing track of time.
I didn't reply, but rubbed her soft shoulder, nuzzling her hair gently. Susan sighed and shifted again. My body was nothing like Theresa's plump, full-breasted figure. Her hand made its way to my thigh, rubbing it gently. Arching her back slightly, she rubbed her ass lightly against my groin with a slightly demanding moan.
Oh yes, sweet sister.
I rubbed my hand across her hip, clasping it, pulling her ass cheeks apart slightly as my growing cock inched its way into her crack. We both needed some more.
My hips began moving against her as I worked my cock against her sweet wet spot, slowly moving deeper into her body. She gasped and moaned more loudly as I pushed myself in as far as I could go. Holding my sister tightly, I began thrusting against her ass, feeling the slick aftermath of our sex the night before. My speed was not hurried, and not slow, but thorough and loving, the snug cave of her pussy caressing my cock, taking care of her needs and satiating the needs she had fired in me.
Oh, sweet sister, my twin, and my eternal love. Sex was the salve that soothed our young years. The bumps and jolts of new adulthood, what Susan and I didn't solve with love, patience and words, we satisfied with fucking. It was the spackle that filled our cracks.
Ah, so many years ago.
Dennis bucked against his sister's body, coming again, violently. She yelped, pushing her ass against his thrusts. She came shortly afterward, her contractions squeezing his cock, milking out the last of his come.
The twin siblings didn't speak, their bodies said it all. Dennis remained inside her, clinging to her lovely body, for another fleeting eon. Squeezing his eyes shut, he relished the warmth of her flesh, the stillness of the room, the gentle movement of the air, and the hum of the air conditioner. Clinging to Susan, he imagined them in years past.
In the dim twilight before him, Dennis could almost see Susan's young body, nude and lovely, exposed through the open front of her bathrobe. She stood over him, emotionally an ignorant boy, stroking his hair. Often she came to his bedroom, slipping out of that old bathrobe and sliding her naked body in with his. He would roll over to face his sister. Her body was hard to resist. She slid herself up to where her budding breasts greeted his face.
Resting his hands on her waist, Dennis took one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking, gently at first, then more aggressively at her instruction, switching to the other nipple when the first one became sore, sucking on them for what seemed forever, relishing the feel of her stiff, thick buds, and the taste of her skin. Her hands rubbed the small of his back as she groaned gently.
"Ohhh, baby," Susan mumbled quietly, "that makes me sooo horny."
As she nursed her brother, Susan began to explore his buttocks and thighs. His cock, already erect, occasionally brushed against her leg, aching, waiting, begging for the moment when she turned her attention to it.
Her hands squeezed his buttocks, pulling apart the two small masses of tensing flesh. He shivered with excitement as her fingers crept inside, exposing his anus. Overcome with arousal, his suckling broke away and Dennis whimpered into her scented breasts.
"Play with my cock. Please!" He begged with a quivering voice. "Please make me come."
His sister. His twin. His other half. His savior. The beginning and the end was she, in that moment her arms encircled his body and their naked flesh drew together. Dennis's body readily absorbed her pure love, seasoned with fresh sibling lust. Pressing their lips together, Susan captured his soul in that sublime moment when his hardness, his center, became engulfed in her loving wetness, squeezing, yielding to him as he slid into his sister's beautiful folds.
Mom could sleep through almost anything (or did she?) as their bodies gently moved against each other. At the start, the only sound that interrupted their steady breathing was the gentle creaking of the golden brass bedframe. Susan raised her leg, allowing Dennis to enter her more deeply. Soon, his slick, lunging cock glistened with her arousal. Their bodies synchronized, moving together silently in a perfect fucking motion. Susan's hot breath washed over his face each time she exhaled. Her hard nipples brushed against his, the electric spark firing their lust even higher.
With a stifled shudder, Dennis came. Susan came.
And they still come. Now in our thirties, they've made an art out of grabbing stolen moments to share their love. Although circumstances kept them apart, they still found time to meet for a family reunion of their own. It was their special refuge, no matter what else happened in the world, or in their lives. They found a remote refuge to relive the days of their youth, and to share and celebrate the sibling love that has never died.
Susan's breasts have developed a slight sag over the years, and her skin has lost some of the resilience of their days in that ratty apartment. He notices, but it doesn't quell his excitement. The need glows inside their bodies, still strong after so many years.
And it does so, brightly. The gentle slapping of their bodies together start the birthing process, and they end the evening in the emergency room with Susan giving birth to a healthy boy. Soon, the family gathers and Dennis blends into their crowding chatter. His mother gives him an odd, penetrating look after seeing the baby.
But it couldn't be mine. My sister and I are much too careful. Could it be?
