Light, and a seamless glide from dream to wakefulness. She lay still, curled up in Josh's arms. She shifted her head slightly to look up at his open mouth; he was breathing heavily, almost snoring. Her heart beat wildly, like a small bird trapped in his hands. She had got Josh off twice last night, and then slept in his arms, cradled in the greatest love imaginable. This was a moment that would remain crisp and fixed for the rest of her life she knew, the first morning after with her brother.
At some point she must have stirred too much, he rolled over and sleepily cracked an eye at her, and said
"Gah."
"Gah to you too." She hesitated for a moment, then leaned forward into him and sought his lips with hers. He was like stone against her for a second, stiff and resisting. Her heart cracking she broke the kiss, only to have his hand slide up her neck and pull her in again. They kissed deeply and intimately, with passion but not urgency.
Finally he broke away and looked at her, stared into her soul.
"What are we gonna do, sis?" She licked her lips, and said
"I can think of a few things," and looked hopeful. He rolled his eyes at her.
"I'm trying to be serious. This is totally fucked. We just committed incest!" he hissed at her, as if somehow she might not have noticed. "I can't believe it. I don't...I don't know what we should do." He pulled her head against his chest, patting her and absently stroking her hair.
She had not expected this; she had thought once the damn was broken the river would flow free; she had not seen dark and roiled waters. She breathed his scent in and out, just holding him and loving him and hurting because, maybe, he was hurting. He lifted her head to look her in the eye "I don't know what to do."
"Josh, I know one thing. I love you. I love you, and I want to be with you, and be everything to you." She slid her hand under the covers to touch his naked groin. He made no move to stop her. "Let me show you how much I love you." It was all she knew to do. With an assurance firm and terrible she knew at her root level she was born to be the perfect servant and lover to Josh. He was a growing young man, he had needs; she needed to fulfill those needs. He had become hard again under her ministrations, she was firmly stroking that cock she knew and loved so well. "Let me suck you off." He said nothing, just keep looking at her and responding only with his hardness.
She moved her hand about, gently stroking his balls, saying, "Please Josh, I need to suck you off. Your sister needs to have her big brother fuck her mouth." At her nasty talk he turned away and groaned. It was a yes of sorts.
She pulled the covers back, never taking her hands off his precious cock. It was as huge as she had remembered, gorgeous and veined and engorged with blood. She bent her head forward and began to gently suckle on him. Pumping, sucking, rubbing her own legs together, she felt her passion mount. Even as she blew her master, questions flew through part of her mind. Didn't he see this? Didn't it feel good to him too? Was she not good enough, if she were prettier maybe?
He was getting into it now, shifting his hips and moving his hands over her head. Good. She moved her hand lower, one gently manipulating his balls, one jerking the base of his cock hard, and instead of just sucking, pumping her whole mouth and head up and down. She was fucking her throat on him now, breathing on the upstroke and penetrating her mouth the same way she would fuck back if he were in her ass. In almost no time his body tensed; come shot into her mouth. She loved the taste, loved the way it thickly rolled over her tongue and coated her mouth. Swallow and suck, swallow again and luxuriate in sucking her owner.
The both calmed down slowly, his body racked by a powerful orgasm, her breath slowly coming back as she gently nursed on his cock, cleaning and lapping like a cat. Finally he pulled her up, held her and sighed.
"That felt good Chery." Relief and pleasure flooded her. "It felt great...you are so pretty and hot. I just don't know what we are going to do." They lay together on his bed for a while longer, brother and sister, master and slave entangled in the in the strengthening sunlight of Josh's room.
They had washed together, despite his misgivings she could tell he was pleased by her ministrations. Washing him had been an unmitigated pleasure; soaping and cleaning that lovely body. She could tell how thrilled she was to wait on him, and of course it appealed to his masculine sensitivities. How could any man not feel pleased to have a lovely young girl tremblingly eager to clean you, dry you, rub lotion on you, wait on you like a handmaiden?
She cooked breakfast for him, and as the morning progressed he got more normal, but in no time at all he had to leave for his game. They drove to school together; it felt like a date to her. She realized she had a stupid grin on her face (going to see her lover play football, her brother!). At one point he looked over at her and then burst out laughing; she laughed too. She knew she must look crazy, grinning like a fool at her first car ride with him; not the first, but the first since he had taken her and made her his property. It felt good to laugh, and the slightly renewed tension flew out the car window.
As they pulled into the student parking lot, he looked at her pensively for a few minutes.
"I guess I shouldn't kiss you goodbye. God this is freaky." He held the wheel and stared out the windshield. "Well, I gotta go. Root for me, ok?" He gave her that cocky grin, and she gushed back
"Oh you know I will! I hope you tackle a bunch of people." He laughed out loud, throwing his head back.
"I'm a tight end, dopey. I don't tackle people, or if I do it because we lost the ball. Anyway, just root for us, ok?"
The game was confusing for her at times; in the past football games had been social events for her. She found herself sitting with some of the JV boys, listening intently as they gladly explained what was happening. Josh played some, maybe a third of the plays on offense. From what she could tell, he did well, and she had never, ever cheered before with such passion or conviction. She knew when his team lost Josh felt terrible, and was as high as a kite when they won.
They won, and he was ecstatic when he blew out the athletic center doors to meet her. Several of the players had come out before him; she had felt many of them undress her with their eyes. She was glad; it must mean that she looked good, that she might be pleasing to Josh's eye. He grinned running down the white steps, his cleats crunching on the asphalt. "Woot!"
"Woot!" she shot back with a smile throwing her hands in the air; she wanted to throw her arms around him, but held it in. He was happy; they walked back to his car replaying his highlights. As they drove away, she dared to touch him, sliding her hand onto thigh. He looked at her, and she grinned impishly, raising her eyebrows. 'Why not?' her look said, and she moved to his groin, only to be utterly confounded by his cup. That set them off laughing again hysterically, giggling intermittently until they got home.
She stripped him in the laundry room, pulling the dirty, grass and bloodstained pants from him (not his blood thankfully). She knelt, and pulled his stinking socks off him, feeling incredibly privileged to be doing this; had she not better things ahead she would have pressed his wet, sweaty socks to her face and felt immersed in him.
Finally he was naked, and she knelt on the cold tile floor at his feet. The tension had returned; he stood over her, gazing down, erect but making no move. "Josh." His eyes flicked to meet hers. "Josh, you can do anything. You don't have to ask, you don't have to worry, you don't have to explain or anything. Just take me. When you get hard, grab me and fuck my face. When you want to get turned on, tell me to fuck myself for you. If you want to get off in my ass, just say it, hell just bend me over. I love you, I worship you, and anything you want is ok with me. Anything. You can hit me if you want, use me as a toilet if you want." She had seen that in one of the videos; she was not sure if it would turn Josh on.
"What?" he said with incredulity. "I don't want to do that." He reached down and pulled her to her feet.
"Then do what you do want. Just remember Josh, you own me. Just use me for your pleasure. I need it Josh." She looked at him through eyes swimming in tears. She watched him soften, relent, pull her in to his grasp. There on washroom tile she stood on tiptoes, bent over and clasping the deep sink rim while her brother sodomized her. They used her mouth for lubrication; he did not know to use her pussy and she wanted it to hurt some. They stopped twice for her to suck on him again and relube, this was nasty and hardcore, harder than almost all the videos she had seen. He held her hips in his iron grip, just drilling into her ass, hard and fast for his own pleasure. He came into her ass shuddering, grunting some as he pumped into her for the second time that day.
After he came down she stayed still, shuddering with the effort to keep her ass high enough for him, loving how it felt to be full of Josh cock, not wanting him to pull out. He did though, and she turned to face him. They both knew what was coming. She could feel it: a powerful wrongness in the world. She had made him dirty; she would not be fulfilled until she had cleaned him. He was soiled. Soiled. There was no other word to describe what she had done to him with her filthy ass. She had to make him perfect again. No words, just a slow descent to her knees.
The tile hurt, but sucking on him, licking to get every part clean washed all that away.
When they were done, another shower, and then they had to get ready for their mother to come home. With each minute that passed, the tension grew, palpable, until Josh pulled her into the hall and said,
"Look, I'm going to hook up with Phil and Tony. Chery, I'm not mad at you, I really, really get turned on by you. We just can't do this. It's incest." He searched her eyes for a moment, but found no understanding, only compliance. "Tell mom I'll be home tonight before nine."
She watched him drive away through the living room window, and then sat down at the kitchen table. She would take whatever he gave her. He was her master. She was his ass whore. If he needed space from her she had to give it, would give it. As she cried, remembering how good it felt to be impaled on him, she lowered her head to her arms and waited for her mother to come home.