Jill squirmed, pushing her ass forward a little more and driving it into the bed, “Oh, God, Jake, this is just so intimate, I’m so glad you can see me, I want you to know me, know all of me.” Then when she leaned forward and gently stroked his hair, he took her by the hips, “turn over, let me see you from behind.”
And she did and was kneeling on the bed with her ass in the air. “Tell me, Jake.”
“The folds of skin are loose and hang down a little, you have a little hair, not very much, around your asshole, it’s brown and puckered.” He gently parted the folds of her pussy and slowly pushed two fingers in her, “How does this feel?”
“How do I look, Jake, please tell me, do you like it, do you like me, do you like how I look?”
He didn’t take his fingers from her as he guided her to her back on the bed and her hands were back on his head, pulling gently at his hair when he pulled his fingers from her and pushed his face into her sex, feeling the heat, smelling her arousal, tasting her excitement. Then he pulled from her, wiping his face against her thigh and then sucking on it, sucking on the soft white flesh, listening to her moan and when he brought his mouth down again to her crotch and pushed his mouth and tongue as deep into her wet cunt as he could, she twisted on his face, bringing a leg around his head and she bucked her hips at him a few times, easy and deliberate and when the little cry came from her she quickly swung her leg over his head and lay on the bed face down with her ass in front of him, white, round and welcoming. He nibbled at it, nibbled around the cheeks licking beneath the buttocks, into the groin. When she spread her legs wide he pushed her up on the bed so she could kneel and he stretched her cheeks apart, roughly, spreading them as wide as they would go and then he licked her, gently, licking around the bud all the way down to her juices and back, to stab at the bud, first tentatively but then more insistently, stabbed as far into her as he could, then he licked his lips, making them as wet as he could and he kissed her anus, four or five sucking kisses and then he held his lips to her sucking hard while poking her with his tongue. She was yelling when she turned over again, quickly, in a single motion and reached for his stiff prick. “Now, Jake, now, OK?”
Jake felt a wave of dizziness pass through him as he knelt on the bed between his sister’s legs. “Oh, Jake,” she reached out to him.
“Will this hurt you?”
“I don’t care, Jake, I just want you, please, put you in me,” and she pushed herself along the bed towards him until she was close enough for him to direct it to her.
“I’ll just put it in a little, OK, and you can push until it happens,” and he did, but she didn’t wait, as soon as her brother’s prick was at her opening she thrust herself at him, thrust him deep into her, expecting the pain, getting it, but wanting the intimacy, wanting to be connected, joined with her brother in a new way, a way that will bind them for life.
And then he was gone. He yanked his prick from between her legs in a sudden, almost angry jolt. “Protection!”
His prick sucking from her cunt was as startling as his barked order, and she only slowly understood its meaning and then she reached out and took his hands, “I have it, Jake, we’re safe,” and she wiggled her ass in welcome.
“What?” he said as he placed his slimy prick back in his sister.
“The pill,” she said, as she squirmed against his head, pushing him deeper inside her. “I got on it the day after that movie.”
Jake snickered, “You were pretty sure of yourself, weren’t you.”
Jill didn’t see the humour, “When I sat there in that theatre with my hand in yours I just couldn’t imagine not being with you.”
Jake was moving very slowly, carefully, “Does it hurt?”
“No, Jake, it feels wonderful … tell me you love me.”
Jake wrapped his arms around his sister’s neck and thrust more quickly as she wrapped her legs around his ass.
“Jake?”
“Yes?”
“Do you love me?”
“Oh, fuck, yesssss,” and at that moment he exploded into his sister as she yelled into his ear, “Oh, yes, Jake, yes, yes, I love you …”
Jake’s family was there when he walked in. He hadn’t seen them all summer so his parents peppered him with questions while his sister sat in the corner, saying nothing, “You’ll have your turn when we leave,” her father had said. She just looked at him, looked at him with a hunger she couldn’t disguise.
“Your bedroom is there,” she pointed when they left. “I brought what you asked me to bring and it’s all put away.” She was nervous, not looking at him directly, they hadn’t seen each other in two months, time enough for things to change.
He went over to her and held her briefly then pulled her over to the couch and when they sat down her hand was in his and she was leaning on him, leaning close to him with her legs curled and a dreamy look on a face pressed tight against his chest. “Did you miss me?”
He put her hand on the stiff prick in his pants and said, “I thought of you every day.”
“Oh, Jake,” she said, as she snuggled into him further, trying to feel his heat, trying to breath in his scent.
But when she brought her hand up to his face he grabbed it and placed it back on his stiff cock, “Bring me off, Jill, I can’t wait.” And he tore at his belt buckle and pushed his pants down around his ankles and when she touched him he shifted down on the seat and let out a moan, “Oh, God, yes, stroke it.” And as she did, she buried her face into his chest, feeling his excitement, feeling their closeness, their intimacy.
It was over in moments, with the deep, guttural moan came a long rope of cum that shot up to his shirt, with a little on her cheek which she rubbed against his shoulder while she continued to stroke the wet, sticky prick.
“Oh, God, thanks Jill, I can’t tell you how much I needed that.”
“Kiss me, Jake.”
He pulled the pants from his legs and turned on his sister and his mouth devoured hers, sucking at it fiercely, with an almost angry hunger, “Blow me, Jill, I need it again, please, blow me.”
When Jill pulled away and looked at her brother she could see the insistence in his eyes and when he put his hands on her head and pushed her down, she went willingly, pleased that her brother wanted her and she was on her knees before him, before his long wet prick, glistening with cum.
“Take it, Jill, hurry,” and he forced her head down and when she took his prick in her mouth he thrust it at her, like a knife stabbing into an open wound, four, five times and as he neared his orgasm he pushed her head down further and shot his load into the back of her throat while letting out a long animal grunt that rolled from out his chest.
She was on her hands and knees now, coughing, trying to catch her breath, a drool of white cum hanging from her mouth like snot. She wiped it away and sat back on her heels, panting, looking up at her brother whose eyes were watching his hand run up and down his still stiff cock, slowly.
“Take your clothes off.” The demand shocked her, it was so foreign, so remote, even angry and she just sat there on her heels and stared at him. “Take them off,” he said, flashing her a look of irritation and she did as he demanded, standing and pulling her sweater over her head and then pushing down her pants and kicking them away. “The underwear, Jake, do you want me in my underwear?”
Jake sprang to his feet and headed for the bedroom, “Jesus, Jill, take them off, I don’t want to admire you, I want to fuck you.” And she quickly stripped and followed him to the room.
She held him that night while he slept, curling her body around his back and holding on to him with a desperation that scared her and when he awoke, it was to the aromas of breakfast, which she had carefully prepared, as she had practiced so often in her dreams. When he called her name she went to him, beaming, their life together was about to begin, “Take your clothes off.”
“But Jake, I have cooked breakfast,” but she could read his eyes and she quickly unbuttoned her shirt.
He had agreed to go, just this once but when they returned to their apartment he was steaming mad and as soon as he threw the groceries on the kitchen table he turned on her, “Don’t you ever do that again,” he yelled. “You’re my fucking sister, not my wife, don’t take my hand in public and don’t look at me the way you do, it’s sick.” And without waiting for a reaction he rushed past her and out the door.
When he returned later that night, he was drunk and didn’t see her, didn’t care to see her. He went directly to his room and fell on the bed and was only faintly aware of hands pulling at his shoes.
He flinched at the light streaming in the window and only then did he feel the hand stroking his head, “Hi,” she said, “how do you feel?”
“Like shit,” he said, rolling off the bed, almost knocking her over, then padding to the bathroom.
“Would you like something to eat?” she called after him, but he didn’t answer, and in five minutes was out the door.
When he returned later that night he was with a girl and his hushed words in her ear, “Leave us alone for awhile,” stunned her and she grabbed her jacket and left.
He read the note on the kitchen table when he awoke at noon the next day, “I love you, Jake,” and he was relieved when he noticed that her things were gone.
The card came as he knew it would, as it always did at New Years, Easter, the anniversary, his birthday, Thanksgiving. When he opened it, he knew what it would say, it always said the same thing, always the same simple phrase in her neat, even handwriting: “I love you Jake.” But this time it was different, there was a phone number beneath the words, that’s all, just a phone number, as if it was time that he called.
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