—The Woman on the Bench—
“Damnit, Mrs. Jones!” I flippantly berated. “You need to get your pretty little ass off that bench and get it back to your party!”
“Fuck you!” I heard in reply. Sparks flew from the eyes that glanced at me then quickly looked away.
Mischievous affection danced in my heart. “Now, now, Mrs. Jones, there is no need for such language,” I teased.
“Fuck you, I said and I mean it!” the woman spat. “Besides, I’m not married yet, asshole!”
I knew if I said more it would only inflame the fire of ire, yet I said it anyway, “Mrs. Jones, I would gladly fuck you, but not in the asshole. You, of all women, ought to know I prefer ‘cumming’ in the front door rather than the rear!”
I guessed an explosion was coming, and it did. “Fuck…you bastard, it’s all your fault I’m in this predicament!” it began. “If you didn’t meddle in my business so much, if you didn’t make me love you, if you didn’t screw me like crazy anytime I wanted you, and if you weren’t making me marry another man! Damn you, you will never ‘cum’ in any of my doors again!”
The unbelievably sexy female turned away and ignored me. “Well Honey, we will have to see about that!” I teased. “Speaking of cumming, why don’t you come on back to your bachelorette party in the club? Your friends wouldn’t have called me if they weren’t worried about you. You ran out without your coat and I’m sure that Little Black Dress is giving you scant protection here in the barely-heated walkway leading to the parking garage. Besides, you’re a bit too drunk to be driving.”
Once again, I was ignored. The gorgeous woman stared off into the distance as if she really cared about the people she saw walking there. From experience, I knew this particular female was moody and often just needed time to cool off. Well, with her ass sitting on a cold bench, she might cool down very soon.
This woman wasn’t the only one staring. My eyes were examining her body from head to toe. Her silky, long, dark hair was tied up in a high-flip ponytail with a shower of wayward strands hanging behind each ear. Those exposed ears were adorned with simple, modestly-bejeweled gemstones I had given to her myself. Small, but very well-developed breasts were providing ample cleavage to stimulate a man’s lustful imaginations. To say that the hem of the Little Black Dress was ‘short’ would be understating the facts. Why, the entire length of this woman’s slender legs was exposed from the top of her shoes to nearly the underside of her ass! I can’t say I cared all that much for the thickness of her shoe-tips, but I’ve always adored this lady in stiletto heels!
To say that my cock was hard and wanting, would also be understating facts. God, I needed a warm, wet vaginal cavity in which to house it for an evening’s recreation! If orgasmic pleasure happens to occur, then so much the better for me. Maybe, just for old time’s sake, this beautiful woman will give me a final fuck before her marriage to my best friend tomorrow. I’ve pissed her off, I know, but I’ve gotten plenty of pussy from her when she’s been pissed before.
—Earlier At the Club—
“God Emily, you sure can dance!” Brittany exclaimed. “Shit, if you put your mind to it, I betcha you could dance professionally!”
Some of the other young women on the dance floor agreed. “Damn right, Em,” Megan affirmed. “I bet you could roll in the dough at a strip club!
Emily took a drink, then another and another. Between drinks, she continued dancing without missing a step, but at each and every compliment her body jerked as if stabbed by a dagger. Her heart missed beats, she cried inside, and she bled tears at memories of mistakes made not long past. They didn’t know, her friends didn’t know about her past, about her gyrations in dim-lit barrooms, about the pawing hands, about the bills the $1s, $5s, $10s, $20s, $50s, and $100’s which had put food in her belly and a roof over her head.
They didn’t know, her friends, so she forgave them. Isn’t that in the bible? Aren’t you supposed to ‘forgive them for what they do’? If the bible is so full of forgiveness, why can’t she forgive herself? Emily took another drink, asked for still others, and downed them, too.
This was supposed to be a celebration of her last night before marriage. As a single mother of a very young child, she knew it was time for her to settle down with a good man. Brad Jones was a good man. Oh, the man was a saint! Taking on the responsibilities for another man’s child was one of those defining moments in time called ‘above and beyond the call of duty’.
But, Brad didn’t know about her past, either. Could he forgive? Could he forget? What if he didn’t? Would she care? She probably would not. And, why would she not? Because he wasn’t the father of her baby might be a possible reason. But, the real reason would be because he was not the actual man she loves! The man she actually loves and the baby’s father were in fact one and the same man!
Emily drank a few more shots. She had enough conscious Hatay Escort brain cells left to realize she was teetering on the tip of intoxication. Who cares? I can’t have the man I love! And, pray tell, why not? He ‘is’ divorced now! Emily, aren’t you asking yourself a whole damn lot of questions? See, you just did it again!
Of all Emily’s friends, Rebecca was the one most often referred to as ‘Miss Goody Two Shoes’. As the party progressed, it was she who paid most attention to the bachelorette’s spiral into uninhibited inebriation. Perhaps demons were driving Emily, but when she climbed up on a table and began a seductive striptease, Rebecca could stand no more. “God Meg, Brit, we have to stop her!” she implored. “She will be so ashamed when she sobers up!”
It took the combined effort of all three young women, but the inebriant was finally pulled from the tabletop and deposited in a booth. Still, they could not tame Emily’s rebellion against conformity. “We should call someone,” Rebecca suggested.
“Who?” Megan asked. “Her sister is keeping little Nickie. Don’t you all think the child favors Nick quite a bit? I mean, more than a nephew should favor an uncle. Does anyone have Nick’s number?”
“I do,” chimed Brittany with a red-faced Rebecca unintentionally echoing her answer.
“I do, too,” admitted Megan. At this, the three giggled and laughed as if each had discovered a hilarious secret about the others.
Uncharacteristically, Rebecca was the one to let the cat out of the bag. “Isn’t he ‘yummy’?” she gushed. “I guess our sisterhood or friendship hasn’t kept him from making the rounds among us!”
“Yeah, Emily doesn’t know what she’s missing,” Megan added. “Or maybe she’s ‘not’ missing! Didn’t I say Nick really looks a lot like little Nickie?”
Giggling and laughing ensued while Nick was dialed on a three-way call.
—In the Nick of Time—
When I arrived at the club, my eyes quickly adjusted to the dim light. I didn’t need the three sets of leading arms for me to discover the problem. My sister was standing atop a table wiggling her ass. Two high heel shoes sat at the side filling with bills. Sissy’s pantyhose were gone and her dress was pulled nearly ass high.
Stepping into the fray, I grabbed my sister behind the knees then threw her lightweight body over my shoulder manhandling her as if she were a rag doll. Even though Sissy’s friends were shouting, ‘he is her brother, he is her brother’, I still had to knee-kick some balls in order to clear a path. True to her unfortunate experiences, I saw this intoxicated woman’s fingers snatch up the pair of shoes filled with cash.
“Nick, we could take her upstairs to sober her up,” Megan suggested. “It is the Honeymoon Suite, but who knows you might want to bring someone, ‘like me’, back here someday.”
“Or someone like me!” Brittney echoed.
Not to be left out, Rebecca added, “Or sweet little me!”
I was steamed, I was furious, I was royally pissed! “Damnit, you ladies have let things go too far already!” I lashed out. “How could you allow her to drink so much and then let her pick up old dancing ways? You stay down here and party! I’ll sober your ‘friend’ up myself!”
The hotel’s desk clerk handed me the Honeymoon Suite’s key card without question. I knew he assumed I was the groom to be. Unfortunately, I wasn’t. Goddamnit, we loved each other more than she and Brad did, we fornicated with more energetic zeal, and we had the kind of death-do-we-part relationship that was not defined by a preacher or a piece of paper! Hell, other civilized nations recognized consensual adult incest as legal and acceptable, why not ours!
I suppose Sissy was so accustomed to me undressing her, she made no resistance as I stripped her raw then stripped myself. I hated cold showers, but a cold shower, was what we had. “Dance damnit, dance in this frigid wetness!” I scolded. “If you are going to dance for a man, then dance for one who loves you!”
My sweet Sissy awkwardly danced in the coldwater spray. This gorgeous woman had some misguided notion in her head that she was too skinny, but the female dancing for me was a vision of Venus come to life. She had small breasts and slender limbs, yet to my eyes her body presented an image of voluptuous delight.
“Nick, I’m shivering, please stop,” Sissy begged. “I’m better, I’m sobering some. Oh, I’m so sorry! How can you ever forgive me?”
I stepped from the shower pulling my love with me. Taking a towel from the towel warmer, I dried her wet sexiness from head to toe. In between, I took additional steps toward warming such as kissing her luscious lips, suckling her tasty tits, and licking her clammy clit. It was only when my probing tongue delved deep into Sissy’s vaginal depths that I found a slippery honey pot of smoldering feminine flesh and juice hot enough to scald my licking and lapping oral intruder. Mmm, my sister’s pussy is the best!
It wasn’t completely necessary, but after I reluctantly pulled my head away from Hatay Escort Bayan her cunt, Sissy took another heated towel then returned the favor by drying me. One thing I had learned when my sis and I were kids; this was one girl who was a natural born cocksucker! Now, at twenty-eight, she was better than ever. She was proving this expert skill at this very moment. God, she was good!
Sissy rolled her tongue around the bulbous head of my cock with her tantalizing tip teasing my pee-hole and doing ungodly things to the flesh of my cockhead. As if this weren’t enough, she captured several inches of my cockshaft then turned on her mouth’s powerful vacuuming suction. My stiffened erection was inflexible, but it was no match for my enthusiastic sis. Consequently, I had no say in the matter as she deep-throated my entire penile pole!
Bedeviled, I was! Yet, even at the risk of my immortal soul, I knew I would never love or lust for anyone with the same passion as I did for my sister. No other woman had ever been able to come even close to replicating the emotional or sexual feelings this female engendered in my heart and loins. Call it sin if you will, but if it be true, then sin it is!
Sissy released my cock from its home-sweet-home entrapment inside her throat. Yet, one more time, she grabbed my cockshaft with her serpentine tongue then coiled around it and seemed to be attempting to squeeze the very life out of it. Oblivious to my warnings about getting ready to cum pretty soon if she didn’t stop, my woman continued eating my meat with a voracious hunger.
Almost too late, Sissy abruptly stopped. Hell, I then knew I had nothing to fear about cumming at all! If anyone knew about the subtle nuances which foretell when my cock would cum, it would certainly be this sister of mine who had been sucking it forever! Whenever she wanted to swallow its cream, she did. It she wanted my seminal deposits made elsewhere, she said so.
And, so she did. “Nick, let’s fuck,” she said without inhibition. Actually, the inflection in my lady’s voice was more of a command than an invitation.
Sissy took off running. Throwing nuptial bedcovers aside, she dove beneath their comforting warmth. Well hell, I’m neither slow of mind nor hard of hearing, so I accepted the words as they were spoken. I would fuck this woman anywhere, anytime whether it be by explicit command or devious invitation!
Running to the honeymoon bed and diving beneath the covers myself, I mercilessly tickled the seductive temptress bedmate I found. Years of experience had taught me where every tickle-spot was on this woman’s glorious body. My fondling fingers managed to find each one and tickle it until my bedmate cried with laughter and squealed for mercy. When I showed my compassion by stopping, the ungrateful wench attacked me with her own tickling, fondling fingers.
Sissy and I wrestled forever, it seemed, but I suppose there was just as much body kissing and sucking as there was anything else. Finally, I pinned my nude bed partner spread-eagle flat on her back. I kissed her demanding lips with an endless string of impassioned, heart-stopping, obsessive kisses. By god, this was my woman and I loved her more than I loved life!
How it did it without me telling it to, I don’t know, but my horny cock ended up inserting itself inside Sissy’s vagina! This woman’s slippery hole was purposely secreting feminine lubricant in preparation for penile penetration! Why, the brazen ‘hussy’ was making it impossible for me to escape from her seducing spell! Witchcraft was afoot!
Hell, if my Sissy was a Witch, then I was the Devil himself because I wanted to fuck her like a demon! With devilish delight, I rammed my cockshaft home and began screwing this woman. Strong pussymuscles pulled me deeper into a vaginal abyss which felt like a cauldron of scalding, steaming feminine wetness. Oh lord, it felt so good to my ungodly cock!
As Sissy and I fucked, we grunted and groaned like feral beasts, yet we also cooed and softly sighed like larcenous lovers attempting to steal love and happiness while we could. If what we are doing is theft, then from whom do we steal? Do we not own our own kisses? Aren’t the owner’s of our fornicating loins the bodies to whom they are attached? Aren’t our hearts ours to give to whom we will?
Bloodstreams raced with the rushing redness which sustains life. Heartbeats pounded with thunderous thuds. Sissy’s pussy sprayed orgasmic spurts of vaginal cum and her voice squealed in pleasure. I didn’t dare display such an effeminate trait as squealing, nevertheless, I belted out shouts of orgasmic glee as my cock expelled its pressurized streams of babymaking seeds into my lover’s vaginal void, into her womb, and into her very soul.
Mother Nature allots to each man’s penile penetrater only a limited amount of time to stay erect. As my stiffened cuntfucker reach this limit, the woman I was having intercourse with reinvigorated my cock’s rigid rigor by twisting out from beneath my body and laying Escort Hatay hers atop mine. With nimble fingers she guided my enduring erection back into her welcoming feminine hole. Within a matter of seconds, I had a cockfucking female screwing me.
Sissy fucked me as if she were a woman condemned to marital death and this was her last chance at sowing wild oats with her true lover. I didn’t mind her impassioned zeal, but I abhorred the thought of giving this longtime lover of mine to another man! Yet, after many, many heated discussions, we had decided that our child needed a stable, ‘normal’ environment with a legitimate mommy and daddy sharing a home. Damn our own lusts to hell and consign our love to the trash heap of things best forgotten!
But not yet, no not tonight! Love, lust, and orgasmic desire ruled this night. My love was squealing and cumming again. I was, too. Exceeding my measured allotment, my loins expelled more semen and sperm into a fertile womb which may or may not contain a reproductive egg.
Conjoined loins know no conscious guilt, they know no regret, and they care not for future consequences. Sissy and I fucked until we finished then we cuddled, kissed, and cried. Refreshed with joy, yet saddened at heart, we dressed and reluctantly left the marital chamber that we never could ever share as husband and wife. Goddamn whatever deity it was that gave us the sibling blood which makes marriage impossible! And damn the lawmakers who prohibit incestuous matrimony!
The elevator ride down was a sad, heartbreaking time. People got on and off at nearly every floor. By the time we reached the club floor, the elevator was crammed. In an effort to lighten both Sissy’s and my own mood, I resorted to my twisted sense of humor. “Oh god, Mrs. Jones,” I shouted aloud as the doors opened. “I hope your husband doesn’t find out I had you upstairs in his bed!”
Sissy’s face blushed the color of a crimson red rose. Out of compassion, some other women did, too. One or two men gave me a sly wink. In spite of her embarrassment, my love tried in vain to suppress a smile.
—Back in the Club—
“Wow Emily, you look fantastic,” Megan greeted. “And Nick, you look good enough to eat! May I?”
“No, may I, Nick?” Brittany implored with a wink in her eye.
“No girls, let me,” Rebecca begged. “We are talking about dancing, aren’t we?”
As Rebecca led me away to the dance floor, Megan and Brittany replied in unison, “Of course, what else!”
I danced with each young woman in turn. I really had no intention of staying and interrupting the bachelorette party, but groping hands and insistent voices made it impossible for me to leave.
“Nick, why don’t you dance with Emily,” Brittany suggested. “There is no law against brothers and sisters dancing together.”
I grabbed my sister’s hand and whisked her onto the dance floor before she could tear up and cry. This subject of laws restricting what brothers and sisters could legally do haunted us both. From the corner of my eye I could see the table where my intoxicated sister had been doing her drunken striptease dancing. For two cents I would find the son-of-a-bitch who had Sissy’s pantyhose and I would beat the shit out of the bastard.
Brittany had been the last one to dance with me before Sissy. She had inadvertently reseated herself where my sis had been sitting. We sibling dancers were headed back towards the table when we saw Brittany jump up and heard her excitedly utter, “Hey, there’s something wet in this chair!”
Time stopped. Inquisitive Brittany stuck a finger in the moisture and then tasted it. “It’s cum!” she announced.
Megan reached over, dipped a finger in the wetness, and also tasted it. “Yep, it’s cum that’s leaked from a cunt!” she added bluntly.
Sweet, ‘Miss Goody Two Shoes’ Rebecca innocently stated the obvious. “That’s Emily’s chair.”
Every single female sitting at the table was putting two and two together in her mind. Emily’s chair equaled Emily’s leaking cunt. Honeymoon Suite with her brother equaled Nick’s dripping cum. Two and two added up to the fact that their friend Emily had been fucked by her brother!
Reading her friend’s minds, my sis turned and ran away. She was headed for the walkway leading to the parking garage. If I knew my sister’s thinking, I knew she was not running away out of shame at being found out to be a brotherfucking woman. No, I believe she ran out of fear if of it being discovered that her child’s father was the brother she fucked!
Walking to the table full of young women, I snatched up Sissy’s purse and draped her coat over my arm. I looked the three in the eye with a menacing glare. “Girls, remember the saying about people living in glass houses,” I cautioned. “Megan, Brittany, Rebecca, just keep in mind, I have something on each of you. Pillow talk reveals many secrets. Two of you are brotherfuckers yourself while the other prefers her daddy!”
—The Woman on the Bench—
I suppose I was finally beginning to realize that my playful banter and teasing was not going to get this stubborn woman back to her bachelorette party at the club. Giving up, I sat my butt down beside her ass. I had to bodily scoot her over because she was so royally pissed at me she refused to move.