…well I guess the alcohol killed all the bad shit? I don’t know, but once she’s satisfied that I have a sterile cock, she lays back on the bed and scoots her head up to the pillow.
Her arms invite me on top of her. My cock is freezing from the frigid evaporation. But her legs spread and welcome me somewhere warm. That black bush, thick labia, and open trench invite me in. What’d she call it? Something like a greasy cunt? Nah. That’s my sister’s vagina. There’s only beauty in that.
“Nothing kinky,” Brooke says. “Just make love to me. That’s all I want here.”
“I don’t have a condom,” I tell her.
Her tongue grazes across her molars. “And I don’t have birth control. What are you going to do, Love?”
I gulp. “Call me that again.”
“What? Love? Stick that monster wang in—Oh my fucking God!” I did as she said, and Brooke was shrill, screaming at the end of it.
I had the presence of mind to cover her face with a pillow, but I’m sure enough of her screaming got out for Mom to hear.
Wait. Did we lock the door? Eh, it’ll be fine.
“No, Mom. She just stubbed her toe or something.” I’m already working up an excuse lest mom knocks on the door, but it just so happens that this is also the moment when some hellish chemical reaction occurs on the flesh of my cock. And my cock begins to BURN!
Oh my fucking ~~God!!~~
It’s the alcohol! That or her cunt’s a beehive. Oh, fuck you, Brooke!
My sister’s drenched and ribbed pussy clenches around me–dozens, hundreds, thousands of stimulations writhing and contracting, right where our most intimate of places connect. Her heels pull my ass closer, shoves my cock deeper into her trench. More.
Holy Hell. Her vagina was not ready for this. Every inch is a new gaping for her. It feels like I’m boring through her body. She fucking squeals bloody murder! I tried to contain it by smothering her face with the pillow, but my scalding alcohol soaked cock makes me squeal, too.
And, Oh!, the overstimulation is unreal. She screams into one side of the pillow. I scream against the other, and somewhere inside the feathered down, our voices meet.
The blazing alcohol burns something fierce, though I do think the pain is beginning to recede, but I swear, her pussy belongs to God. Ribs clenched. Moisture drenched. Pussy fucking, motherfucking pussy trench. I didn’t even give a fuck right then. Out of the pillow, I called out to the world: “Fuck yes!”
Gaping sister. Ramming into her stomach, it feels, from the inside pushing out. My piss hole lodges against her cervix, which bolts her upright. She’s electrocuted. I draw back, find a flicker of sanity, and Holy Fuck! I remembered that Mom is just downstairs frying eggs.
Shit! “Quiet, quiet,” I peel the pillow off of Brooke’s face to tell her.
You’d think she just went through childbirth as flushed as her face is, chest shuddering, eyes wide and unrestrained. Our toned abs slop together, belly buttons puddled in sweat, squelching one’s bare flesh against the other.
I hold that position scared to move lest one of us squeals. My cock’s still pressed right up against her cervix. Eventually her breaths ease and her eyes find mine. “What?” She gasps. “You worried about Mom finding out?”
Brooke pulls me into her bosom, but just as she does, I do see her eyes flick to the doorway. A crass smile forms on her lips. I start to follow her line of sight, but she pulls my face back, leans up and kisses me with an unrefined passion. Drool dribbles down her chin. Our teeth clank together. She bites my tongue. I swear I poke my own so deep into her mouth that I’m licking her tonsils. Slurping. Hungry. Pigs in heat.
I draw back and thrust. Her legs spread.
Off to the side, I swear that I hear a latch slap against the threshold, but at this moment, I don’t even care. Sex, me and my sister, we’re having real sex!
Rock hard cock, just like a pornstar. I am a pornstar!
I pump and slap into her. Once, I go too far, and she yelps. After that, she reaches down and clamps her hand around the base of my cock as it enters her. Her fist acts as a backstop to keep my inexperienced cock from pounding her pussy too deeply, and with that backstop, I’m able to pump into her with a wild abandon.
At one point, I’m even a jackhammer, forcibly spasming my hips, thrusting them into her so fast, her voice vibrates. Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah. Bumps on a train.
Earlier, she said something about normal sex, about just making love, but this is not that. This is pig sex. Slopping about in our muck. Splashing in her mire. Every now and then, her pussy clenches and a waterfall of juice pours down, soaks my cock. I know what that is. Orgasm. Cum. I pump her own cream deep into her pussy, ram it all the way back.
Then, it’s my turn.
“I’m going to cum. I’m going to cum,” I tell her.
She’s biting her lip and nodding, but she’s not looking at me. Brooke’s looking off toward one corner of the room, over by the door. She moans out with undue yearning, “Cum. Cum in me, baby brother. Creampie your big sister’s loose slutty cunt.”
The way she says that, I pause mid thrust for half a beat. Those words didn’t feel like they were for me. But I do resume my humpings regardless.
I feel another pair of hands wrap around my arm and start tugging, like they’re trying to pull me off of my sister. From just beyond the edge of my peripheral, I hear a meek voice pleading in a rasp just above a whisper. “Stop, please. Please, stop.”
Brooke’s lips curl into a vicious grin. It’s like she’s victorious, like she’s just won a race. “Fuck me!” She cries out. “Pump that Big Daddy cock into my creamy slut pussy. Abuse your sister’s cunt, little brother. Rape my womb. Uh huh. That’s it. Oh baby. More. Stretch my cunt. Fill it. I want your seed. Get me pregnant.”
Okay. Something’s really not right here.
Brooke winks at me and tips her head to the side, indicating to the spot right next to me.
If there has ever been a moment for an overture of doom to play, this is it–like a slicing riff from the heavens. My neck creaks over. I look down at the feeble hands clutching my arm. They’re splattered with flour and grease. My eyes trail up, and there’s a white apron hanging across a blue sundress. On up, doom strikes.
Mom, my mother, mommy, she’s standing right here, a despondent voyeur to her children’s sex. Her loose bun drapes stray hairs across her face, sandy blonde. Her lip quivers. Veins spider out from the corners of her eyes, tainting them red and seemingly throbbing them puffy.
Just how long has she been watching?
No, I guess that’s irrelevant. My cock’s still buried inside my sister. Brooke just stubbed her toe; I swear! Nah. Ain’t gonna fly.
I peek back down at Brooke, and–Oh!–my sister is so happy. Her teeth spread apart in a thousand watt smile. Her shoulders wiggle as she nestles her hips against mine. She’s going to explode in joy.
I don’t get it. This right here, this is the end of our world. Mom just caught us, her only two children, having sex.
So many implications.
Our lives are over.
So why is Sis smiling?
Wait…
Think about it.
Our current lives are over.
Something about Brooke’s smile, it’s infectious. I feel it spreading across my own cheeks, deep dimples. My heart flutters. It’s so light all of a sudden. The sensation is so real, it manifests as a physical change in my posture. All my burdens come unshackled.
I peer back at Mom, and I guess the sight of her children locked together at the hip, both positively beaming in joy and ecstasy back at her, it must have been too much. She lets go of my arm and staggers back. Her foot catches and she falls onto her ass, just utterly horrified, soul-destroyed.
Seeing her down there, her grease and flour stained hands, her white apron draped between her legs, even the spatula tucked into her apron pocket–this was a normal morning for her. Her family was back for the holidays, every parent’s joy, and she must have been so happy getting around to doing all the turkey fixings and Christmas presents and holiday cheer and all that Mom stuff.
Guilt that stabs my heart.
But then, she must have heard our screaming and raced upstairs to see what all the commotion was about, perhaps thinking one of us was hurt. But instead she finds this–this raw-dog sister-fucking. And she must have lingered in the corner of the room just watching us go at it, unsure how to react…
That’s right. Mom stood meekly in the corner of the room, just watching, not saying a peep. That’s her M.O. It’s just like she did at the hospital after the Paylor High game, just like when Dad was wrenching on my swollen ankle, and I was biting down on my arm, muffling my screams, writhing around in unnecessary agony, all because of a fumble. And Mom just watched on from the corner, not a complaint nor protest on her lips.
The guilt fades.
Just like when Dad was waking me up at five every morning and making me run suicides in the driveway as she watched out the kitchen window, blending me up the kale and creatine that she knew I hated.
She was fine with all that. No complaints on her lips, just as long as the bad stuff doesn’t affect her and her illusion of family, she’s fine with it.
I glare down at Brooke with a wicked grin, and she beams back just as twisted.
“No, don’t.” Mom’s whimpering, pleading from the floor. She says that, but her eyes are locked on my cock buried inside Brooke’s cunt. She can’t seem to believe or understand it.
I kneel back and grab Brooke by the knees, hiking her hips up and spreading her pussy as wide as it’ll open. Her everything is revealed to me. It’s also revealed to our Mother. My cock slides out of my sister. Her cunt grips the shaft, the muscles pulling out from between her pussy lips, as if it doesn’t want to let me go. That’s right. She doesn’t want to let me go.
“Rub your cunt,” I tell her.
For more reasons than I’m capable of understanding, those words get her so hot. It’s written on her face, and I feel it even more so in the contractions of her pussy. She pinches her engorged clitoris, pulling and stretching and flicking it all about–surely painfully. I ram my cock into her until it bottoms out against her fist. She gasps. Her eyes sparkle. She loves it.
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