********  CHAPTER 6 ************


                          OPEN MARRIAGE CHRONICLES

                                  "BROTHER"

                              By Bill and Ellen

                               ELLEN'S STORY:

     I hadn't realized why I was frequently attracted to younger men 
until my brother Roger visited us for three days last November. 

     Although I don't dwell upon the past, I cannot help remembering 
now and then the tragedy of our youth. Roger was just a year younger 
than me when we learned our parents were killed in an air accident; 
the incident was particularly newsworthy because of the spectacularly 
horrible way in which the airliner had plowed through a Southern 
California neighborhood. Television and newspaper coverage kept the 
awful circumstances before our eyes for days thereafter.

     We were alone in our home for three days, awaiting our aunt and 
uncle from Central Ohio to come for us. I was to live with them only a 
year before leaving to accept a job in another city; Roger stayed with 
them through four years of college and R.O.T.C., after which he joined 
the Army. He's now a paratrooper.

     While we awaited my aunt and uncle who were driving cross country 
because they were afraid of flying, my brother and I were each 
emotionally vulnerable. Adult family friends visited daily, bringing 
us food and trying to keep our minds occupied with thoughts of the 
future, not the past or present.

     The night before my aunt and uncle arrived, after Roger had 
showered, I heard him sobbing. He was still in the bathroom. I was 
nude, two rooms away in my closet, looking through a line of clothes 
for my pajamas. I gave up on the pj's, tugged my terry robe from a 
hanger, and tied it about me as I walked to the bath. 

     The door was ajar. I pushed it open to find Roger, leaning over a 
sink as he splashed water in his face to clear his tears. Having just 
toweled off, his black hair was mussed and glistening.

     A dark blue towel was wrapped around his lower torso. His eyes 
were reddened as he looked up at my mirrored reflection and murmured, 
"I don't think I can take it anymore."

     Although he's now three inches taller, at that time Roger and I 
were the same height. I hugged him to me. Our bodies pressed together 
as I rocked his head on my shoulder.

     He seemed dazed by the emotional storm. He shuddered as he 
whimpered, "I don't want to stay in my room alone! Can I sleep in your 
bed tonight?"  

     I led him by the hand to my room. Preoccupied with despair, he 
hadn't seemed to notice that his towel had fallen away as we entered 

my bedroom door. I averted my eyes from his smooth, nude body and 
invitingly patted the pillow alongside me on my small bed. I turned 
off the lamp, then billowed the thin white sheet over us as he crawled 
in beside me. He held me agonizingly like he was afraid he'd fall into 
some abyss as he lay quietly in the darkness. Like me, Roger was 
slender and long-limbed, his body as firm as mine from swimming and 
playing softball; we made a good fit, I'd thought as our arms twined 
around the other's neck.

     I smiled when he was finally slumbering, his cheek laying over 
mine. Just minutes later, I fell asleep. 

     Sometime in the early morning hours, I awoke. My robe was open 
from the shoulders, exposing my warm nakedness. Roger, as always, 
snored lightly. My body was pressed to his nudity from our stomachs 
down to our legs. His body felt feverish. His hands were curled 
beneath his chin, his elbow resting between my breasts. 

      Although I couldn't see his young penis which had swelled as he 
slept, I could feel its broad and lengthy firmness bulging between the 
vee of my legs. The pressure against my vagina had awakened me. 
Although I knew I shouldn't be feeling this way, I was electrified 
with the sexuality of my brother's naked flesh against mine. 

     I started to push him away until I remembered his crying. Not 
wishing to awaken him, I lay that way for hours. Unmentionable images 
were running through my mind. His manhood burgeoned as his body 
twitched in sleep-induced dreams, causing me to shudder as it now and 
then slid ever so slightly through my legs and the furrows of my 
virgin womanhood. It was torture and it was pleasure.  I didn't want 
to remain in that agonizing position, yet didn't want to move. 

     His head twisted to rest on my right breast, his lips brushing 
the nipple. He slept on. His mouth opened slightly, nursing a breast 
as if his dreams had returned him to infancy. 

     His tongue and lips worked over by breast with soft slurping 
sounds. His hips moved about, causing his penis to wriggle against my 
vagina. My hand, trapped beneath his head, cupped the back of his 
neck. I was fighting an urge to pull him even closer. 

     I was going out of my mind with desire; but the knowledge that to 
do so was wrong prevented me from responding. Eventually, the will 
power I'd mustered to pretend I was unaffected left me exhausted. I 
fell again into a deep slumber. For the rest of the night, I dreamed 
of a faceless man lying alongside me in the darkness as the two of us 
fondled the other.

     In the morning, we awoke to the jangling of the alarm clock 
perched on the headboard above me. I folded my arm behind me, afraid 
to touch him. Roger's face was pressing warmly into my tender breast. 
His lips enveloped the firmness of my excited nipple. His eyes 
fluttered open, rolling up to meet mine. Only slightly awakened, he 
glanced to the inviting breast before him and rolled back to the 
pillow. I couldn't have admitted that I didn't want him to stop 

nursing my pulsating nipple. 

     The erotic dreams had left me in a state of hyper-excitement. 
Except for my reaching to shut off the alarm, I hadn't moved. The room 
was dim, still an hour away from sunrise. Roger's manhood was even 
more aroused, its bulging base now throbbing against my clitoris. He 
looked shocked for a fleeting moment, then pretended nothing was 
wrong. 

     We stared at the other, both in a state of half-sleep. I could no 
longer control my frenzied body; my small hips hunched slowly back and 
forth, massaging my clitoris over the lengthy curvature of his 
hardness. Our eyes closed. His elbow slid away from the young fullness 
of my breasts, his tremoring hands gently cupping and stroking the 
mounds. My nipples jutted out in excitation, bouncing beneath his 
touch.

     I slowly became aware of my arm I'd folded behind me; my dangling 
hand was touching his hard penis that extended just beyond the back of 
my legs. My fingers were drawn to it, stroking the tip. The 
manipulations caused it to pulse and jitter, further arousing my 
stimulated body. 

      Raising my leg slightly, I bent my knee forward to rest on 
Roger's hip. My slender hand encompassed his monstrous member through 
the back of my legs. I gently pulled his young manhood's outer skin. 

      Although I'd had no such experience before, I knew just what to 
do. Just a month before, I'd crawled to the backyard shed's roof to 
watch the stars. As I was laying flat on my back, my hands folded 
beneath my neck, I glanced toward a barely perceptible movement coming 
from Roger's lighted window.  Roger was standing alongside his bed, 
his hand pumping against his groin. I'd sat up, bracing my elbow 
against the slant of the roof, and peered down to his window. 

       And I knew immediately! He was MASTURBATING! Although the 
fascinating vision held no sensuality for me at the time, I was 
enthralled! I remember grinning as I watched; it was just all so 
INTERESTING!

      And now, yes, in my sleepy turmoil, I knew just what to do. With 
my hand around my leg to my back, I was masturbating him! I remember 
my fearful surprise as I learned the skin seemed so thin against the 
pulsating muscle beneath. My fist was trembling like a leaf on our 
backyard maple tree fluttering in the wind.

      I shivered in the intoxication of the moment, feeling his 
manhood coated with my own heated vaginal oils. It was all so new to 
me! Our first sexual excitement was mounting in a tempestuous storm! 
His eyes opened a moment, then closed again. He moved in and out of my 
legs, and all the time stroking my heaving breasts. We gasped. His 
manhood wrested through my fingers. As I moved my palpitating hips to 
and fro, I pressed my clitoris madly firmly to his throbbing hardness.

     He arched his back, his lips pulling on my nipple, and moaned.  


My breath hissed out like steam from a radiator. His body tensed, his 
arms tightening about me. He shuddered and groaned as my sensitive 
furrows sensed his orgasmic fluid rocketing through his manhood. The 
soft, warm liquid splashed through my hand, onto the back of my legs. 
I squealed, grasping his penis firmly. Our bodies shimmied as his 
teeth bit into my nipple, the pain causing tears to pool in my eyes.

     Our eyes snapped open in unison, fully awakened, realizing what 
we were doing; then, his face reddened. Each of us trembled, slowly 
pulling the sheet back. The robe was still open to my sides, my naked 
flesh pressed to his feverish and shuddering nudity. Roger puddled the 
sheet to the floor behind him. 

     He pulled away from me slowly. His manhood seemed interminably 
long and as it glided moistly through my legs. An electric shock 
rippled through me. I didn't close my robe as he rose to a sitting 
position, then stood, turning to stare down at my breasts and the 
curling mass of soft hair covering my pulsing groin. I rubbed the 
wetness on my hand against the pillow. My full lips parted in 
disbelief at what we'd done; yet, in my frenzied state, I kept pushing 
it to the back of my mind. 

      I was fascinated by his jutting length and the thickness of his 
black pubic hair. The purplish red tip glistened in the pale morning 
light; the bulging veins that ran the length of his excited rod 
throbbed, enhancing the erotic thunderstorm that was rumbling through 
me. My lips trembled. My face glowed red. I was unable to tear my eyes 
away from his member, bobbing and pointing toward ME! I'd wanted to 
reach out and pull on it again; but now, fully awake, I restrained my 
urge. His gaze roamed my quaking body. 

     Although I couldn't have admitted it, my hips were rolling and 
thrusting like I was inviting him back to the bed! My face burned in a 
shameless blush. 

     He controlled himself, now feigning disinterest, as if it hadn't 
occurred. Lifting his towel from the floor at the doorway, he mumbled, 
"Want corn flakes for breakfast?" 

     Licking the fullness of my pale dry lips, I glanced to his pole 
pushing the towel out from his groin. I rolled on my back, feeling the 
puddle of his warm creamy liquid spreading beneath me. Closing and 
tying the robe, I went along with the charade, rose from the bed, and 
said, "Sure, I'll fix it." The image of his hardness, thrusting from 
the thick pubic hair, flitted through my mind the entire morning.

     And the incident was never mentioned between us again. Until a 
month ago, when Roger visited us.

                                BILL'S STORY: 

     I'd always liked Ellen's brother. He seemed to be the perfect 
soldier, like he was married to the Army. As handsome as Ellen is 
beautiful, Roger looks like he stepped from a recruiting poster - 

short black hair, athletic, poised, with a countenance of calm 
thoughtfulness.

     Although I could understand his love for the military, I hadn't 
cared as much for the Marines, even after giving the corps nine years 
of my life before leaving for civilian life to practice engineering. 
Now, I think better of it in retrospect because I tend to remember 
only the good parts. Roger, though, seems to live for nothing except 
the next jump from an airplane, the ten-mile runs, and all the 
unquestioned regimen that had once irritated the hell out of me. Like 
Ellen, he never swears, doesn't smoke, and drinks nothing alcoholic 
but a couple of glasses a wine a month, maybe even less. He laughs 
easily, never complains, and never runs out of jokes. Yeah. Clean 
jokes.

     Ellen of course had told me about the incident with her brother, 
which fascinated me. During his second night of his three-day visit 
with us,  we were swimming in our backyard pool while Roger was out 
jogging. 

     The moon's narrow sliver of gold hung in the black sky. The 
distant dining room's small window of light spilled across the trimmed 
lawn and onto the dark waters of the swimming pool, providing the only 
other illumination. Ellen swam to the pool ladder, grasped a rung, and 
said, "I think I know now why I'm often attracted to men a few years 
younger than me." It was out of the blue; we hadn't even been talking 
about Roger. 

     I started to ask why but somehow knew exactly what she was 
thinking. I acknowledged, "Because of your brother." I raised my 
eyebrows questioningly. "Right?"

     She nodded affirmatively and giggled, "Too weird for words, isn't 
it?" She clambered up the ladder, stripped off her swimsuit and lifted 
her beach robe from the pool deck.

     I paddled back a couple of feet from the pool's rim, looked up at 
her as she was toweling off, and suggested, "Why don't you tell him?"  

     She looked shocked, responding, "Oh, I couldn't!" 

     I crawled from the pool and reached for the towel. Draping my 
suit alongside hers on the lawn chair to dry in the night air, I 
picked up the other robe, pushing my arms through its sleeves as I 
walked behind her through the darkened hedges and into the house.  I 
cinched my robe and said, "Who knows? He could've been disturbed over 
the memory. Talking it out could solve some problems." 

     Looking back, I don't really think I believed what I was saying, 
that the memory bothered her brother. He was one of the most well 
adjusted men I'd known. But I added, "I'm sure he hasn't forgotten 
it." Perhaps if I'd thought more about my deeper motives, I wouldn't 
have pursued the conversation, but eventually Ellen agreed that just 
bringing the subject up would be harmless. 


     We were sitting in nothing but our robes at the kitchen bar, 
drinking tea while awaiting Roger to return from his nightly jog. 
Ellen thought over my suggestion, then turned from the bar stool, 
smiled with an agreeable nod, and walked toward the hallway.

     I asked, "Where are you going?"

     She returned a half minute later and said, "Just removed the 
towels from the bathroom." 

     I was puzzled.

     Just moments later, Roger knocked, opened the front door, and 
strode into the foyer. He was dressed in yellow running shorts and 
jogging shoes. A silver military chain dangled about his neck. He 
grinned, sweat running from his black hair down his face. He waved at 
us, and mumbled, "Going to the shower! Join you in a minute."

     When he closed the door, I turned to Ellen and grinned in 
realization at what she'd done, "O-kay. So he's going to have to ask 
for a towel, and you're going to take it to him."

     She bit her lip, smiled, and acknowledged, "Uh-huh." My nostrils 
flared slightly at the fresh smell of a cologne she'd splashed on 
while she'd been in the hallway.

     Just two minutes later, Roger was calling from the half opened 
door. Ellen pulled a couple of rose tinted towels from the closet and 
walked in, holding out a towel, draping the other over her arm.

     I glanced down the hall to the bath mirror's reflection through 
the open door. He didn't cover himself as he dried off; Ellen was 
leaning against the sink and chatting with him as he ran an electric 
razor over his late-evening stubble. He wrapped the towel around his 
hips. 

     They joined me at the kitchen bar. As they talked, they seemed 
detached and unconcerned with the out-of-place occurrence. She'd been 
casually talking to him while he was nude! I was amazed. 

     I reached to the liquor cabinet and retrieved a spectacular 
potion I'd intermixed for special occasions, a third-quart of grain 
alcohol with white wine, the taste disguised by a couple of drops of 
tobo oil as I'd learned while stationed in Turkey. 

     I pulled 3 wine glasses from our cupboard and poured; and 
although they kept insisting they'd drunk enough, I kept pouring their 
glasses full. And when we were later sitting in the floor and talking, 
my back to a wall and their backs against the couch, I rested my elbow 
on the coffee table and filled their glasses again. Although Ellen 
drinks very little, she knew that wine mixed with pure alcohol has a 
lightening-like, numbing effect; I found it interesting that she 
wasn't offering any comments other than just calling it "wine."

     They'd lost count of the drinks. Roger stared blankly at the 

glass I'd just refilled and laughed, "No more! I'm drunk." I knew he 
wasn't kidding; I'd been sipping only a single glass of the potent 
potion and was more adept than either of them at holding liquor; yet I 
could feel electrical currents racing through me. The tobo oil would 
make it worse; it's like eating butter before drinking; you don't 
really know you're drunk when your stomach's coated with butter; then 
as the oil's absorbed, the full effect hits at once.

     "Me too," Ellen giggled; but she took one more swallow, set the 
glass on the table, and waved toward the bottle negatively. She added, 
"That's IT for ME! My head will be the size of a basketball by 
morning." They thought about the image of a basketball balancing on 
Ellen's shoulders an instant, then burst out laughing in unison, each 
stone drunk for the first time in their lives.

     I walked to the far side of the kitchen bar where I was just able 
to see their reflections in the mirrored wall. Folding my arms, I 
leaned my back against the refrigerator, watched, and listened. 

     Ellen sighed, patting his hand across her bare legs that were 
jutting from her hip-length terry robe. She reminisced, "Earlier 
tonight, I was remembering something similar to this that once 
happened between us."

     Her brother's eyes were glazed. He was having trouble 
comprehending their simple conversation and mumbled, "What's that?" 

     She told him. He hesitated before answering, then nodded, saying, 
"I think about that night every once in a while."

     Although Ellen hadn't noticed, her white beach robe had fallen 
open as she leaned forward, exposing generous proportions of her 
breasts and her slim stomach. Roger stole occasional glances at her 
semi-bared breasts as she breathed softly.  From where Roger was 
sitting, he glimpsed the brownish circle of a nipple. 

     She flattened the palm of his hand against her thigh; the tips of 
her fingers brushed his muscular arm. She asked, "What do you think 
about?"          

     He described the incident just as Ellen had told me, stopping now 
and then in his recollection as if he kept forgetting his train of 
thought. And eventually he'd recalled it in great detail. The effect 
of the alcohol and the sensuality of the remembrance were having a 
noticeable effect on him.

     Her senses dazed, Ellen hadn't noticed his engorged member 
pushing the soft towel around his hips toward the ceiling. She smiled 
softly, "That incident never caused me any misgivings. I just wanted 
to know if it had a lasting effect on you."

     He looked sheepish, his forehead wrinkled slightly as the corners 
of his eyes sought hers. "I think of it in a fond way." Cautiously, he 
reached for another sip of wine and went on, "I probably shouldn't say 
this." He gulped the wine. "For years thereafter, I'd wanted it to 

happen again."

     They were still chatting when I strolled back in the room but 
stopped talking as they looked up at my intrusion. Turning to Roger, 
Ellen said, "Oh, don't worry. Bill knows all about it. He gets excited 
every time I tell him the details." She could never have admitted that 
if she had been as cold sober as I was. 

     They laughed when I nodded and said, grinning, "Most exciting 
thing I'd ever heard."

     I rolled my tongue thoughtfully against the inside of my cheek 
and said, "I didn't really think of it as incest. I mean you didn't 
have intercourse."

     They mumbled a few thoughts about my questionable concept, then 
half heartedly agreed.

     I added, "It's possible to have sensual experiences which aren't 
incestuous." After they'd asked me to explain, I went on, "Well, for 
example. Suppose you were laying on your back." I gestured for Roger 
to lay back on the floor. He complied. 

     Ellen's eyes were glazed as she stared down at his engorged 
penis, now raising the towel like a flag pole. Her lips parted in 
surprise, forming an oval, as she inhaled a wispy breath. She looked 
away with a slight jerk of her head like she was trying to clear her 
head of the alcohol-induced trance, then again turned to look at him.

     I suggested that Ellen sit over his groin. Although intoxicated, 
she was reluctant; but as Roger also urged her on, she straddled him, 
her naked legs over the towel covering his hips. Somehow this created 
an immediate bond that even I could feel to form between them, as if I 
weren't even there. Ellen's eyes widened as she stared transfixed at 
her brother. His facial muscles twitched as he glanced down to where 
Ellen's robe parted slightly, exposing a portion of her shaved mound. 
This must have seemed a bit unreal to them, but anyone who's drunk 
will accept almost anything as normal. I waited as they looked at the 
other, breathing heavily. 

     Ellen gulped, unable to look away from the rising protrusion of 
the towel covering his groin. She asked me, her voice tremoring, "What 
now?" Roger's lips quivered. 

     I reached to untie Ellen's robe, pulling it open. She looked at 
me questioningly, gasping as she started to re-tie the belt. Then, she 
hesitated, turning her gaze downward to Roger's innocent face. He 
nodded his assent; she returned the affirmative gesture, allowing the 
loose folds of her robe to remain open to her brother's full view. In 
his alcoholic stupor, her brother raised himself slightly on his 
elbows, blinking as he gazed to the fullness of her breasts and to her 
groin's smoothly shaved mound. Ellen's jaw sagged slightly, her stare 
affixed in awesome wonder on her brother's protruding towel. Roger 
again lay his back flat on the floor.


     My tongue was thickened and dry. I could feel the erotic heat 
irradiating between them. The warmth of her body had allowed a faint 
wisp of cologne to drift through the room. 

     I tugged at his towel that was separating them. Ellen 
accommodated me by wriggling slightly, allowing me to pull it away. 
Her bare thighs hovered an inch above his groin a moment as if she 
were still undecided.  When he offered no response, she settled slowly 
down on him again. 

      Each gasped in unison as their naked flesh slid together. She 
leaned forward and spread her fingers, bracing her hands against his 
chest. Her gaping robe hung just over her shoulders, down her sides, 
the way the white terry robe of her youth had exposed her nudity to 
her brother's eyes so many years before.

     Her body tremored slightly at the close intimate contact of his 
long penis with the rim of her cuntal lips. Roger's length was 
impressive; his broad member twitched in excitation as the purplish 
tip brushed the curvature of her soft breast. Her hips moved just 
slightly, pushing her groin gently against his penis in an involuntary 
motion. But I'd noticed it, and so had Roger. He'd shuddered as her 
warm womanhood brushed against his pole. It was clear she was fighting 
an urge to move about.

     I leaned back against the wall and waited. Deciding I may have 
already pushed this too far, I offered no further suggestions. But I 
didn't need to; the room's air was charged with the sexual electricity 
between them.  

     And now, Ellen no longer asked me for instructions. Her thighs 
squeezed his hips, relaxed, and squeezed again. Rogers legs cautiously 
stroked her inner thighs, his hips rolling slightly, causing his 
lengthy cock to brush a wide swathe across her stomach.

     Ellen's body was stilled but intense; but when he moaned, as if 
giving eager permission, she began moving her pussy lips back and 
forth, her sweet smelling lubricant coating his cock as it was pushed 
flat against his stomach with each movement of her hips. His blood-
engorged member fit her smooth furrow like a ball in a socket as if 
they were made for each other. Of course; yes, I thought, they were! 
Each made for the other! I gulped my second glass of wine.

     It was obvious her clitoris was now hyper-excited as her bald 
flesh slid over the broad pole, creating the necessary friction. The 
wine had taken its full toll, releasing all inhibitions. Her lips 
formed a circle, her body shivering. Immersed in lust, she moaned, 
"Annnhhhhh! Ooooohhhh!" Her groin pressed more firmly against his long 
cock and hairy stomach.

     He groaned, "Oh, God, it feels...it feels GOOD! Ellen! Even 
better than I'd IMAGINED!"

     I arose quietly and walked out of the room, lingering in the 
darkness of the hallway to watch the rest - of what I'd begun - to 

unfold. They were writhing together in slow, measured movements.

     Ellen increased the tempo of her hips and whimpered, "UNGHHH! 
OOOHHH! Oh, YES, Roger! It feels GOOD! I don't want it to stop. It's 
making me so fucking horny, I don't know what to DO!"

     Roger was now lifting his hips, matching each thrust as her 
aching cunt trapped his cock against his belly. Her pussy lips and 
clitoris slid down his cock's length each time he lifted his hips. She 
thrust her hips, moving her hot wet flesh back up its massive length.

     "Oh, GOD!" Roger groaned. "I know I shouldn't be enjoying this! 
But I just can't HELP it!" 

     I smiled, knowing there was no turning back for either of them.

     Ellen whimpered, "Don't stop, brother." Tears pooled in her eyes, 
streaking her cheeks. She whispered lustily, "I love it too! Your 
COCK! It's so BIG! So HOT! I love it more than ANYTHING, Roger! I'll 
do anything you WANT if you'll just keep doing what you're doing!" 

     In the hallway's darkness, I opened my robe. I began pumping my 
cock with a fury. With each forward thrust of Ellen's hips, Roger 
heaved his loins upward. Her excited groin wriggled as his cock 
slithered up the furrow of her eager, heated cunt.  With each ebbing 
flow beneath her clitoris, she squealed in agonizing pleasure.

     Ellen thought I'd left for the bedroom. She whispered to Roger, 
"Oh GOD! I can't believe what I'm FEELING! I can't believe what I want 
to ask you! I want you to fuck me, Roger! WOULD you? Would you FUCK 
your sister? WILL you?"

     Inflamed with lust, Roger grasped her hips.  He nodded in 
enthusiastic agreement. He breathed, "I'd love to. I'd LOVE to fuck 
you!"

     She rolled away to lay on her back, her legs splayed. Her hips 
were grinding an euphoric invitation to fuck her. Her eyes were wide, 
her lips ovaled. She tremored fearfully like a trapped rabbit facing a 
predator as her brother's nude body hovered expectantly above her. 

     His cock twitched, jutting out in a threatening gesture. His face 
took on a determined demeanor like that of a bombardier about to taste 
the fruits of a perfect mission. The massive poker poised to dive into 
the red hot coals of her depths that were now blazing like a furnace. 
He shuddered wantonly as Ellen's quivering fingers combed through his 
thick black patch of pubic hair. He murmured, "My balls are hard as 
rocks! I couldn't stop now if I wanted to. And I don't WANT to!" His 
comment was also a question, allowing her time to refuse, to push him 
away; yet I knew that neither of them could stop now. 

     Ellen's reactions exceeded my expectations. Gazing at the long 
penis menacing her furry mound, she pleaded, "Oh, YES, brother! I WANT 
you to fuck me! I can't WAIT! I want you to fuck me so bad it hurts!" 


     She quivered her cunt up. Grasping his throbbing tool with her 
small fist, she pulled it toward her vaginal lips. Ellen's raging 
passion caused her body to blush a flaming red. Now, his prick had 
grown to a particularly lusty state, reaching inches beyond the 
breadth of his sister's fist. She stroked his long hardness, then 
pulled it to the mouth of her trembling pussy. Upon contact with its 
tip, she squealed, "OOOOOHHHH! GOD-D-D-D-D!" 

     Her long slender legs involuntarily wrapped around his hips; and 
then, as if her legs had a mind of their own, her legs tugged his 
loins toward her. His cock entered her tight muscle-rimmed opening as 
she writhed beneath him in unconcealed desire.

     My heart was thumping like a sledgehammer. A hot breath escaped 
my lips. Ellen lifted her hips eagerly to his massive member. They 
shared a sigh. Their mutual pledges of sibling love sounded like a 
ceremony as their bodies were about to be united. Her cuntal folds 
enveloped the head of his prick, then slid around his tool as he 
entered her. 

     He flinched and moaned as he forced inward.  Her vaginal muscles 
fearfully contracted, then relaxed, allowing his cock to spread the 
mouth of her cunt still wider. She arched her back, grinding her hips 
against the softness of the carpet as her brother's tool slid snugly 
into place. 

     Sobbing ecstatically, Ellen screamed, "Oh, Roger! You're KILLING 
me! I LOVE it! I love YOU! You're so fucking BIG! I can't STAND it! Do 
it! FUCK... FUCK ME-E-E-E-E!" There was nothing contradictory about 
her fevered pleas. Her brother was clearly huge, yet Ellen wouldn't 
have wanted him to stop. Her pain was replaced by unbelievable 
pleasure! She cried out in the heights of rapture known only to those 
who have tasted the white heat of forbidden pleasures.

     I'd never seen anything like it! Ellen and Roger were boiling 
with lust. Their bodies thrashed against the other like hellish 
morsels in a bubbling cauldron. Her nipples were dark and swollen as 
her brother's mouth lathed her soft breasts. He was riding his sister 
with a fury. Bucking against his groin, she thrilled in their 
unspeakable taboo, a tumultuous sweetness they'd never known. Her 
hands ran up and down his torso. The inflamed yolks of her eyes were 
wild, rolling in wide circles as his tool skewered her steaming 
channel. Her eager cunt sucked in his lengthy member like a muscular 
hand milking a bloated udder.

     Ellen's knees pressed against his body. Her gyrating groin was 
pliant and responsive, yielding to Roger's full lusty length. 
Transfixed at the long cock boring deeper into her cunt, she wiped the 
tears from her cheeks. Sobbing in erotic abandon, she whimpered, "Oh 
GOD, I'm so HAPPY! I want you to fuck me FOREVER!" She returned his 
ardor in full measure as his tool plowed on, throbbing through her 
cuntal walls like a resonating telephone pole.

     "I will," he promised, his muscular hips ramming between her 
legs. 


     He groaned. He was about to come! He was shoving his hips forward 
savagely, his cock slamming into her like a jackhammer.

     Her body blushed as she accepted it eagerly; and, now, lost in a 
whirlpool of lust, Ellen wailed in ecstasy, "YI-I-I-E-E-E!" Her head 
thrashed from side to side, her long hair flailing the air. She was 
returning his unbridled passion in full measure.

     Ellen bucked ferociously against his ramming groin. She gasped, 
"Oh, Roger! DO it to me, Roger! I'm going to come! You're so BIG! And 
in so DEEP! Oh GOD! I'm...I'm..." She was biting her lower lip, a 
trickle of blood streaking down her cheek and neck. Her long legs 
stroked his muscular back. She enwrapped her arms about his neck as 
the soft fullness of her lips pressed against his. The blood from her 
lip was staining the carpet. 

     As the orgasmic storm was about to overtake them, their tongues 
twined; their eyes closed to prepare their fevered minds and bodies 
for the fullest of pleasure.

     And then it happened! Both shuddered and moaned amid the 
explosive force of her brother's fluids bursting through her molten 
channel. Ellen screamed like a banshee, "OOOHHH, JESUS-S-S-S-S-S-S!" 
She was coming savagely. She threw back her head with a long erotic 
wail, relishing his spurting cock throbbing within her; his warm lava 
erupted and cascaded through her depths for an eternity of a half-
minute; her depths were overflowing with his endlessly gushing orgasm. 

     Her toes pressed against the carpet like a ballerina's. She 
raised her hips, forcing her shuddering groin against his as the 
orgasmic after-shocks flooded through them. Her vaginal muscles were 
in rapturous spasm, milking every last drop from his ejaculating prick 
as her cunt pulled tightly on it again and again.

     I was coming also, my knees buckling as I leaned against the 
wall, spurting into the robe.

     They collapsed into a cuddle, his cock still in her tight depths. 
They grinded greedily against the other, fiery flesh against flesh. 
His lips crushed hers as each sibling hugged and stroked the other's 
pulsating nakedness. 

     They remained like that until Ellen murmured, "If I were any 
fucking drunker, I'd be on another planet." They laughed 
uncontrollably, then quieted.

     Ellen was staring into the deep blue pools of her brother's eyes. 
His jaw was slack, his mouth dry. He grasped his glass of wine from 
the coffee table, gulped half of it down, then touched the glass to 
his sister's lips. She drank it greedily, unwilling to allow the peak 
of their intoxication to slip away. He then reached for Ellen's half-
full glass and repeated the ceremony.

     They were completely stoned. After laying in unspoken adoration 

for several minutes, he arose. They stumbled toward the shower. As 
Ellen led him down the hallway, she was pulling his penis up and down 
in her small fist; it was softening but retaining its impressive 
length. They'd left the bathroom door ajar; I watched from the 
hallway's darkness, their bodies reflected in the broad mirror that 
faced the shower stall. They entered, closing the glass door. The 
pinkness of their flesh gleamed through the dim lighting as the shower 
spray hissed. Steam swirled about their bodies. 

     I could hear a conversation but was unable to determine what they 
were saying. She kneeled before him, her eyes rolling up to watch his 
face as she ravenously gulped his length in her mouth. The softness of 
her lips glided along his prick until his mammoth cock had risen to 
its full, excited state.

     He cupped the fullness of her breasts, stroking her round 
softness. He pulled her to her feet, his tongue working its way down 
to her shaved cunt. He knelt before her as if in worship. His fingers 
stroked the smoothness of her mound as his tongue flicked against her 
clitoris. 

     Her hips gyrated eagerly against his mouth as she tossed her head 
in wild abandon.

     He stood, turning Ellen away from him, forcing her hands flat 
against the red tiled wall. 

     Ellen leaned into the wall, turning her head to look behind her; 
she gazed down upon his broad swollen cock, the head of which 
glistened a dark wet purple. She spread her legs wide in eager 
expectation to accept his lengthy gift. Her lips trembled. She 
shuddered heavily, pushing her smooth, virgin-like cunt back against 
him in an eager, grinding motion. 

     Her brother's eyes surveyed her perfect body, his hands sliding 
down her back and cupping her buttocks lovingly.  Grasping her thigh 
with one hand and his massive cock with the other, he leaned forward, 
poising his weapon. She tensed fearfully as the tip made contact with 
the mouth of her swollen cuntal lips from the rear. He entered slowly 
at first; then with a sudden shove, he sheathed his broad sword to the 
hilt. The savage onslaught caused her mouth and eyes to open widely in 
surprise. They were like dancers as his thick rod savagely slithered 
into her blistering depths. 

     His sister was sobbing, "Uh Huhhh! Uh Huhhh! Shove your brotherly 
cock deep into me, Roger! Fuck me! FUCK me like you LOVE me, Roger!"

     With each barbarous thrust, her buttocks flattened against the 
hardness of his stomach. She moaned in joyful anguish as he worked 
through her depths. Whimpering, she twirled her fingers around her 
clitoris as she rotated her hips in fervid passion. She squealed, "Oh, 
GOD!  I'm COMING!  DO it, Roger!  FUCK it, Roger!  SHOVE it IN me, 
Roger!  Oh, ROGER-R-R-R-R!  FUCK ME-E-E-E-E!"

     Ellen's back arched expectantly, then she tremored, her hands 

reaching behind her to grasp his hips as the orgasm throbbed through 
her. She sobbed, biting her lower lip, as tears rolled down her 
cheeks. She grasped the bulging base of his cock as it skewered 
through her creaming tunnel. 

     Roger's jaw slackened. He increased his tempo, ramming his tool 
home with a vengeance. His body jerked as he muttered, "I'm coming, 
Ellen!" 

     Ellen cried, "Oh YES!" as she pressed the nakedness of her 
quaking back against her brother's shuddering chest and stomach. She 
fucked her hips back and forth ecstatically and murmured, "I can FEEL 
it about to EXPLODE! OHHH YES-S-S-S!"

     He shuddered and groaned, lost in a tornado of passion.

     Ellen's body spasmed as she leaned forward, bracing her body as 
her fingernails clawed at the walls. 

     And then it happened! He exploded. She screamed at the sensation 
of his heated sperm, spurting like a mad volcano through her vaginal 
walls. She was crying, biting her shoulder in ecstasy.

     Wiping her tears away, She mewed, "I loved it! I LOVED it!" She 
turned, their arms twining like they had so many years before. And 
there they stood, beneath the warm spray of the streaming shower, 
their brotherly and sisterly flesh pressed together from head to toe. 

     When their bodies parted, she grasped his tool, stroking it 
lovingly to milk the last of its warm cream flowing through him. He 
mouthed her breasts. 

     Her nipples stood out like spikes as she smiled down on her 
little brother; she stroked the back of his head with her other hand, 
her fingers combing through his thick black hair. Her body trembling 
in after-shocks, she gyrated her satiated cunt against his muscular 
leg.

     Breathing heavily, I leaned against the hallway wall, as 
exhausted as if I'd been through the same exercise. That had been one 
hell of a night.

     You'd think this incident would have invited a repeat 
performance. It didn't, but I'd learned long ago that few things in 
life work out the way we think they should. 

     But Ellen and Roger laugh about it now, admitting it couldn't 
have happened if they hadn't been drunk. 

     Neither has ever been drunk again.

**********************
Continued in Chapter 7
**********************



     Neither has ever been drunk again.


