Chapter 2
She looked at his sleeping body in the early morning's light, and she liked what she saw. They really did have a strong sibling resemblance, which was only appropriate. Both of them tall and stylishly lean, with trim, conditioned frames, both of them blond and blue-eyed, both of them with strong, attractive faces.
Sure, there were differences. After all, he was a boy and she was a girl. He had a very interesting tube dangling from the clump of pale-brown fur between his legs, and that tube was complemented by the cutest little baggie, which appeared to have a pair of rocks bouncing inside. She had a beaver of nearly the same color, but inside it was something else altogether-a long, deep slit whose puffy outer lips showed among the tendrils of fur. A slit which Ken's tube had entertained very nicely last evening.
His arms and face were a rich summer tan, but the rest of him was much paler, Lorna noticed. It was too damned bad he was the junior partner in his accounting firm, because his two seniors dumped all the work onto him. From the looks of Ken's body, he needed more time outside in the sunlight. She had no complaints for herself on that score. From head to toe her skin wore a perfect coating of gold-not too light, and not too deep either, for that could turn flesh to leather. No, it was just right. The pink of her nipples and navel and gash were set off delightfully by the sun-kissed tone of her skin, and Loma took care not to get any undue exposure now that her goal had been reached.
Sleeping, he looked like a child. But he wasn't. He was twenty-seven years old and the most satisfying man Lorna had ever fucked. Even if he was also her kid brother. But that didn't really matter. You couldn't pick your family, could you? And she'd clicked with Ken from that very first time, years and years ago. Now, it just seemed to get better and better and better. God, to think that he was getting married.
"Tonight," she said aloud, grinning. It was six in the morning. Thirteen hours to blast-off. Would she and Ken ever be this close . again? she wondered. He seemed to think not. All through dinner he'd insisted that it was completely finished, that under no circumstances would any of this ever happen again. And how many hours later had she tugged at his cock and pulled him onto his own bed and fucked him to exhaustion?
"Good morning, little brother," she whispered sweetly, putting her hands on his chest. He stirred, his lips fluttering, but he didn't wake up. Lorna fingered his nipples very delicately, feeling them erect as she plied their little hard tips, and then she bent her head in closely to lick. Again he stirred, and his tears hardened a trifle more as her hand stroked down his stomach, fingers moving into the light-brown clusters of his crotch hairs, onto the base of his dick.
She pushed the sheet down to give herself more room, and his cock erected as soon as she touched it. His eyes were moving beneath their lids, rapidly, from side to side, and she wondered if he were dreaming about her. Or perhaps about his Barbie-doll? Dreaming was such a private thing. You could watch someone sleep and know they were dreaming, but you could never know the topic. Not for sure. She played her fingers on the base of his dick, feeling the large vein as it bulged and swelled, and when his cock was really standing up, hard and thick, she locked her fingers around it and started to shuck up and down in a lingering, sensual caress.
"Mmmmmmm-mmmmmm," he said in his sleep, and Lorna kissed the murmur from his lips. With her mouth on his, and one of her hands on his temple, the other on his dick, she began to awaken her brother. His eyes fluttered open once or twice, sleepy, blurry, and then recognition flooded the blue orbs.
"Good morning," she enthused. "You're up bright and early, aren't you?" and the pressure of her hand on his dick left no doubt what she meant. Ken groaned and took her firmly by the shoulders.
"Not again," he said. "Please. Not again."
"You're silly. You dig it as much as I do. My God, Ken, I don't know what I'm going to do when you get married! That is, if you get married. It's been such a comfort to me, knowing that you were always here whenever I needed you or wanted you or whenever I just felt horny for some of that very special pecker you keep in stock for me. Ooohh, I think your cock's even harder than it was last night! It's shaping up to be a pretty good day, lover. So-"
"Ouch!" he yipped, easing her off him. She moved as he directed, but she didn't surrender her hold on his dick. It throbbed inside her fist and she squeezed to make it throb all the more. "What are you doing to me?" he demanded. "I need to piss. I don't need a goddamned hard-on this time of the day."
"Oh, but I need it," Lorna purred. "And I know all about piss hard-ons. You want to take a leak, but you're so stiff that the golden stream just won't flow, and it aches, but it's such a horny, fucky ache. Let me show you what I generally do, dear."
And with that she was burrowing her face into his crotch, kissing up and down his cock while she stroked it, and Ken was writhing more and more uncontrollably on the bed. God knew she didn't want to be so bitchy, but no man ever died of a piss-hard and she knew damned well that if he had to wait for his relief, that relief would be all the more welcome when it came.
She used her tongue like a cat, and again she wet-mouthed his cock. She dribbled spit onto his hot prick-shaft, then licked it away, and by the time she reached the top of his prong, he'd begun to leak pre-cum. The slitted opening at his tip was damp and she added her saliva to the moisture, tongue-spreading it all over his cherry-red knob. Her thumb and finger locked around his cock just below the corona, and she squeezed the big pecker as if it were a ripe pimple.
"Suck it, if you're going to suck it!" he bellowed in a lost voice, and Lorna just smiled as her tongue continued its precise foreplay. She'd gobbled an orgasm from him last night, plus the two he's spilled into her sucking pussy, and she was hungry for him again. There was no sense torturing the poor love. Lorna opened wide and swallowed her brother's prick.
He was on a very short fuse. It only took three or four deep swallows before his cock shuddered and shot a blast of sperm down her throat. She swallowed, sucking to make him give up whatever residue of fuck-juice he might have in his balls, but the second ooze of his cum was strongly flavored with piss, and Lorna decided that perhaps she'd better stop. For now.
"All right, darling. Your piss hard-on is taken care of. Go empty your bladder and then we'll start the day off with a real bout."
She sat up, wiping cum from her lips and licking her fingers, as he moved onto the floor. His cock was going softer now and she could tell from the tension in this thighs how much her brother craved the piss he was headed for. He started towards the bathroom and, on a whim, she followed, padding along on her bare feet. He tried to close the door behind himself, but she was too fast and, as he angled his cock towards the commode, she was at his side.
Ken pissed into the bowl, throwing his head back at he did. Lorna watched in fascination as the golden shower streamed from the tip of his dick, and she touched his rod while he unloaded.
"Knock it off," he commanded.
"No," his sister replied stoutly. "I like to feel it flowing through you. Look-when I twist your cock, it comes out in two streams. Oooh! Some of it's going onto the floor! Watch your toes, sweets! Is that all? Dear, darling Ken, I could stand here like this all day, just holding your precious cock in my fingers. Wetting them with the last little dribbled of your pee. I wonder if it really does taste all that bad? Have you ever pissed in a girl's mouth? I've been asked once or twice, but I always said 'No-if I let anyone do that to me, it will be my precious Ken.' Aren't you thrilled to know I'm saving the honors for you?"
"You're sick, Lorna. Why can't you let me alone? God in heaven, don't you know when to quit? Why do you make me do these things?"
"Because they're exciting and satisfying and because I like to do them with you," she said. "And if you didn't enjoy it, you wouldn't be so easily seduced. Your cock wouldn't get hard every time I flash it a telepathic communication, like I'm doing right now." She furrowed her brow and glared at the cock which her fingers cuddled in a delicate grip. As she eyed it, the organ began unmistakably to swell, and engorge. "Right on cue," she told him, nuzzling her brother's neck.
He turned, bumping her in the belly with the renewed erection of his prick, and he took her by the shoulders. His face was pale and intense. Lorna lifted as she faced him, lifted onto tiptoes, and she leaned close, allowing her hot stiff nipples to touch him just below the breastbone. Her face was raised, her lips puckering, slightly parted so that her pink tongue snowed between them.
Ken grabbed her by the buttocks and pulled her up against him. His cc-ck felt as if it were afire, grinding against her belly, and his nuts seemed swollen to twice their normal size. Lorna oozed and melted against it, and she wrapped her arms around his waist. One of her hands slid down, catching him by the ass in his turn, and she worked a finger into the crack. With a sly, cunning twist of her hand, she began to dig at his asshole, remembering how wild it had been the first time she ever finger-reamed him. His cock had been in her mouth then, and she was merely experimenting. She hadn't had the slightest idea that her brother's prostate could be massaged by an ass-penetrating finger, but when his cock suddenly burst in her mouth and he shot enough cum to drown a whale-well, she knew she'd done something right. God, she thought, how many years ago was that!
She kissed him wildly, frantically, her tawny mane of hair flipping about uncontrollably, her nipples hardening more and more as they embraced on the bathroom floor. Slowly she became aware that he was moving, that she was moving with him. Something very slick and cold touched her back and she realized that it was the mirror on the bathroom door. He pushed her up against it, still supporting her with his arms, and he ground her into the polished glass as they kissed and rubbed bodies.
"Turn me around," she gasped, "and give it to me from the back! I want to see my face while you're feeding my pussycat."
It was tight, for they were already jammed up against the mirror, but they managed to shift so that Lorna was facing the mirror, her tits crushed against the glass, her legs spread wide, while Ken slicked his hard-on up and down the crease of her pussy.
He pulled his dick upward, into the crack of her ass, and for just a moment she wondered if he might not com-hole her instead. She wouldn't have minded. She loved to be fucked up the ass, and she loved it especially when he fucked her there. But at the moment it was her pussy that ached and yearned for his prick, and she wanted to get fucked in the good old-fashioned way.
"No," she panted, "not there. In my cunt, where you belong!"
He got the message. "Anything you want, I'll give you in spades!" he barked, and again she felt his dong-tip jabbing at the mouth of her twat.
Lorna pressed her tits onto the mirror and she wiggled her butt, opening her legs just a little wider. He moved into the gap she was providing. and his cock pried open her pink-lipped cunt.
"God, yes!" she snapped. "Fuck me now!"
He rammed upward, penetrating her cunt-hole at an angle she found more than simply acceptable. She lifted her ass a bit higher and his cock plowed deeper, increasingly deeper. He had one hand on her ass, steadying her as he fed her his prick, while his other hand stole around her body and took up squatter's rights on her splendid left titty. He pinched at the nipple and she moaned, misting the mirror-glass.
But she could still see her face reflected, and that was all she wanted. As a fuck-scene grew more and more intense, Lorna had no time to study mirrors, but she never tired of seeing her reflection at the beginning of a screw. The way her cheeks and forehead flushed, as though she were blushing ever so daintily. The way her tongue skittered back and forth across her tender, sensitive lips. The way her eyes enlarged and became almost translucently blue as the pleasure of a hard cock's fucking radiated through her entire body. She was beautiful, and she knew it, and she was never more beautiful than when she was being fucked. Plenty of past lovers had told her that, but she liked to see it for herself, as she was seeing it now. Lorna closed her eyes and pressed her lips against the misted glass, kissing her reflection as if its mirror mouth were real flesh and blood.
"You're beautiful," she whispered. "It's all beautiful."
Her facial flush began to deepen as passion took more and more complete hold of Lorna, and she was close enough to the glass to see perfectly the little glassy beads of perspiration which appeared on her forehead and upper lip. There was a salty taste as she smacked her lips, then rimmed the edges of her mouth with her tongue. Her shoulders heaved and her tits felt very heavy, swollen from lust, the nipples thick and hard as bottle tops.
Ken plowed his way into her cunt, grunting and panting as he fucked with ever more intense desire, and he cupped his sister's tits in his hands as well, mauling the ripe mounds vigorously. She knew from the way he screwed her, his cock ramming in sharp, desperate strokes, that he was into it as well as into her. And it was always this way, once she'd stirred him to the point from which there was no return. After all, he was only a man. And what man could ever resist the promise, the certainty of sinking his tool in a tight, wet, responsive twat like Lorna's? somehow, she was sure, it would always be this way, too, with her and Ken.
"God, fuck me!" she squealed, wiggling her ass at him. "Make me come! I want to come with your cock shoved a mile up my cunt! Screw me like a bitch-like your bitch!"
"If you want it, take it!" she groaned, pulling so hard on her tits she thought he'd certainly tear them from her chest. The muscles of her breasts ached thrillingly as Ken pawed the tingling boobs, and she swayed and wriggled and showed her brother how fantastic she was then it came to doing the old bump-and-grind. As if he didn't know already.
She stared at herself in the mirror. Her face was beginning to twitch and contort, and so was his, visible over her shoulder. His eyes were shut tight.
She estimated that he might be good for half a dozen strokes more, but such strokes he would give! Long, heavy penetrations that filled her pussy with his dick and rained numbing blows on the tip of her womb. The hair at the base of his dong was bristly and wiry, especially now, when stray curls of it were pushing into her slit with each thrusting poke of Ken's rod. His crotch hair was tickling the hell out of her pussy, and the exciting stimulation only made Lorna twist and bump all the more feverishly, drawing her body closer and closer to the release she had demanded of him.
She gasped, and blinked her eyes, and tried to keep the mirror image of her face in focus as long as possible. But it was a losing struggle. Lorna's eyes began to roll in their sockets, and her lids snapped shut, and for a brief instant she wished she could see her face right now. because she was positive that it was bathed in the shining glow of shimmering beauty. But knowing was as good as seeing, and it was like a firecracker going off in her cunt.
"Oh, oh, oh. oh, oh. oh, oh ..."
Ken held her possessivly by the boobs, and his fingers strangled her jutting nipples and dug into the rounded curves as if Lorna's tits were soft, pliable dough. Her cries rose to a crescendo.
"Oh, Ken, Ken, Ken, KENNNNNNNNN!"
She vibrated against him, around him, her pussy contracting like a spring clothespin on his cock as she shook her ass from side to side. He pierced upward once more, driving with all his might, and his crotch jammed against her ass as his cock began to erupt once more, buried deep inside Lorna's cunt.
She milked his cock with frantic pussy rippling, and he spilled heavily inside her, so heavily that even while his cock was still thrust deeply, his cum began to spill in hot sticky trails from her gash, oozing down the sweat-dampened insides of her thighs. His prick was swollen to the size of a fencepost, or so it felt to her clenching twat, and she rocked on her heels as she absorbed the incredible, full sensation of having him shoot off within her.
Gingerly he extracted his rigid dong from her pussy, and she sank a little against the mirror. Turning was a slow, precise act, but Lorna turned, and she embraced him, seeking her brother's mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged Ken until she felt his cock begin to wither between their tightly pressed bodies, and she pressed him all the more closely, hoping to keep his cock stiff for yet another sweet fuck.
"God, you're good!" she told him in approval. "I think you've been practicing since last time."
"Lorna, please," he entreated.
He tried to loosen her hands on his neck and eventually he succeeded. Lorna relaxed her grip and settled onto the- soles of her feet. Still she rocked back and forth, touching him now, then pulling away, then touching him once again, and her delicately rounded lower abdomen seemed to bump a great many times on the sticky, nearly limp dangle of his cock. The balls beneath his cock jiggled softly when she touched him, and she enjoyed looking down to see it. She put her hands on his waist and moved a little faster. His cock seemed to shiver with what reminded Lorna very much of the first onset of a brand-new hard-on.
"All I'm doing, lover," she panted, "is gorging myself before the famine. There is to be a famine, isn't there? Or have you decided to do the sensible thing and leave Barbie-doll standing at the altar, wondering whatever happened to her promised bridegroom?"
"You have a rotten sense of humor," he growled, walking past her, into the bedroom:
Lorna tagged him like a puppy, her eyes intent upon the sexy way his buttocks moved up and down as he strode. Beneath the crack of his ass, between his legs, she could see the rear of his nuts and, bouncing, the tip of his dick. At the moment she wanted nothing more than to fall upon her knees behind him, spread those muscular cheeks, and stick her tongue as far up his asshole as she could thrust it. That was one of Ken's favorite tricks, and she was damned sure Barbie hadn't been giving him any of it.
Ken picked up the clothes he'd stripped off late last night, when she teased him into bed with her, and he tossed them into a hamper by the wall. He went to his dresser and opened a drawer, extracting a clean shirt, clean undershorts. Lorna followed, present but not interfering. She supposed, regretfully, that she'd depleted him. And if his cock wouldn't respond, odds where he wouldn't either. It was his only defense.
Pictures atop the dresser. One of Ken on the deck of a fishing boat. Taken two years ago, when she persuaded him to join her on a vacation trip to the Gulf Coast. Two beautiful weeks. Fucking on a deserted beach at sunrise. Fucking on their hotel room's balcony with a million stars twinkling in the night sky above. The naughty hand-job she'd given him beneath the tablecloth at the most sedate, most expensive dining room in Tampa. How a waiter in formal dress had come to ask solemnly if there was anything else required at the table, just as Lorna's hand brought her brother to fountaining orgasm underneath. Indeed, the only times Ken had managed to escape her needs and demands was on his fishing trips. He went often, once he got the idea, and it meant that for a day's time he was out of her reach. But when he came home to the hotel in the evening-ah, yes! Smelling of fish and diesel smoke, she would allow no hesitations, no excuses. It was down with the pants and up with the cock, and onto the bed, and always the day of deprivation seemed to make both of them that much hotter, that much more eager for it.
And that was only one of many times, taking the last-how many?-years into consideration. God, she thought, it's been thirteen years, hasn't it? If she were superstitious, she'd have taken that as a doleful omen, but Lorna had no truck with omens or horoscopes or any of the other bullshit in that vein. She knew that the will is foremost, that the wish was father to the deed, and that if she wanted anything, she was a damned fool not to go after it with all her resources. It had always worked.
Until now. For beside the picture of Ken on the fishing boat stood a framed color portrait of the person who had apparently exerted a stronger will than Lorna Parker's.
It was Barbie, her brother's soon-to-be-wife, the woman who was not stepping into the middle of Lorna's relationship with Ken. Symbolic, really, because on the far side of Barbie's picture was a small black and white glossy of Lorna herself, Barbie-divided from Ken's photo. Lorna reached for the middle picture, picking it up before her brother could stop her.
She really couldn't figure it. Barbie didn't seem to be Ken's type at all. She had a passably pretty face, heart-shaped, cleanly chiseled, framed off by a poor-boy haircut. Her eyes were hazel green, her hair a muted red, her lips thin, pink, set for this picture in a wide-mouthed but far from confident smile. A demure patch of freckles across the bridge of her nose, a dimpled chin-the only word was wholesome. All right, Lorna supposed, for the girl next door, but would you want your brother to marry one? She looked at Ken.
"Was she a virgin when you met her, darling? She certainly gives the impression in this photo. Or is it an old picture?"
Ken jerked the photo out of her hand and replaced it atop the dresser. "Don't bring up that subject," he warned. "I won't tell you again. I love her, I'm going to marry her, and you're going to have to accept that fact, Lorna. You and I are finished."
"I don't suppose you told her about us, did you, darling?" Lorna asked, not at all affected by his words. "No, I didn't think so. It probably hasn't come up yet in conversation. After all, how does one begin on the weather or the economy or Jimmy Carter's teeth and bring the subject around to, 'Oh, yes, Barbie, I should mention that I've been fucking my big sister ever since we were babies and she's frightfully jealous now that I've cut her off.' Do you have any plans for telling her the horrible secret?"
He didn't answer. Lorna bumped his arm with her tits and ran her fingers through the back of his hair. "Maybe you'd rather I told her. A woman can talk to a woman so much easier, you know. And if I threw on the tears and the wistful hurt expressions, who knows? Maybe she'll be so touched she'll invite me to join the marriage as a third partner. And wouldn't it be so much nicer for you if you didn't have to sneak around balling me on the side?"
He spun away. "Don't talk like that! I haven't told her, because I don't want to hurt her. And I don't want Barbie to look at me like some kind of sick animal. Which is how I feel after being with you, Lorna. What we're doing-what we've been doing-it isn't right. It's against every law of God and man. It there's a hell, we'll both go there."
"And we can fuck amid the flames," Lorna said. "Besides, if you feel so sick, why do you let yourself get aroused? You enjoy it while we're screwing. I can tell by the way your cock gets so gorgeously hard and fucks in and out of my cunt with such fierce, erotic violence. I can tell by the way you squeeze my tits, by the way you try to suck out my soul when we're kissing. A man doesn't act that way unless he's turned on, and, little brother, I turn you on. If you can look me in the eyes and deny it-but you can't, so why should I bring up the possibility? And in view of that. what does it matter that we merely happen to share a set of parents? I take the pill every day, rain or shine, and I'm not about to birth a two-headed monster. Except for you, darling, with one of your heads saying, 'No, it's wrong and sinful,' and the other saying, 'God, Lorna, that dynamite body of your is just what I need to make life worth living!'"
She took his hand. "Be really honest, Ken dear. Am I a better fuck than Barbie-doll? She looks so inhibited .and middle-American sugar and spice, I'll bet your next load of cum that she's a cold fish in bed. But wait-I remember your passion for fishing-" She tapped the photo. "Could it be that cold fish also ring your chimes?"
He moved away, and she followed, still gripping his hand. "I know I'm acting like a spoiled, jealous bitch, darling, but tell me honestly-what can she give you that I can't?"
The ringing of the telephone cut off any answer he might have made. Ken wrested his hand free of Lorna's and he sat down on the edge of his bed, picking up the receiver.
"Hello," he said, and she saw him smile awkwardly at the phone, and she knew who was calling.
"Of course I'm ready," Ken said, "and I'm up early getting everything in order. I love you, too, Barbie."
It got soupier, and Lorna smirked, trying not to listen. Especially to romantic dialogue that was straight out of a bad, old movie. She looked at her brother, wanting to laugh out her ironic impulses. After all. he was sitting on a sex-rumpled bed, a bed he'd shared with her, a bed which had a number of telltale cum stains on its sheets, and he was telling his fiancée how much he looked forward to their wedding this evening. And right now, Loma reminded herself, his cock still tasted of sperm, the creamy foam he'd poured into her cunt in the bathroom, no more than twenty minutes ago. An idea possessed Lorna, and she dropped to her knees. Ken's eyes flickered questioningly as he continued speaking to Barbie, but Loma barely noticed.
She crawled to him, putting one hand on each of his knees. He looked down in alarm, but she spread his legs wide anyway, and she thrust herself between them. Her chin bumped the tip of his dick, and yes, she was right, it was still sticky with his jism. She moved her head slightly and kissed him directly on the cock. A throb of interest replied inside his cock-tube, and Ken's tool began to rise slowly, filling up like a balloon being inflated.
"Stop it!" he said silently, his lips forming the words he wasn't able to speak, but Lorna ignored him. She took his rapidly enlarging cock in her hands and fondled it until it stood up all hard and red before her face. The tube on his underside bulged out, and she licked it with the tip of her tongue, drooling a trail of saliva up and down his rod as she moved.
"Uh . . . what did you say, honey?" he asked, jerking suddenly as Lorna's mouth assaulted his dick and interrupted his train of thought.