The day dragged. Lisa tried to occupy her time listening to the radio, favorite records, cleaning. All those things were make-work. She knew it and that irritated her.
Losing Carl as she had also bothered her, but not in the way she felt it should have. Lisa was sorry to see him gone. He wouldn't be around to warm her bed, her body. That was the great loss for her. She somehow couldn't get too upset over any loss other than his cock.
Sex was the only true bond she had with. Carl.
Now that he was gone, though, so was her sexual outlet.
She turned the radio up louder to try and drown out the little noises she had come to live with in her black world. Not able to see what caused the tiny settling noises of the house, the sudden screeching of tires in the street, the minute snaps of twigs in the backyard all made her increasingly paranoid.
What if the rapist returned?
Even worse, what if he didn't?
Lisa could hardly face the fact that his brutalizing fucking had been exciting to her. She hated every instant of the degrading experience – and it had been more stimulating than any sex with Carl ever had been.
She couldn't get it all straight in her head. It only jumbled together in a stewpot of confusion.
Evening came and with it the news. She listened with growing fright as the newscaster reported, "And there has been still another reported rape. The rapist was not caught and no clue as to his identity has been released by the police. This is the fourth in as many weeks. On the foreign scene…"
Lisa snapped off the radio and sat, thinking hard. She wasn't the only victim. There had been others. From the way the reporter talked, there would be future victims.
Did they all have the same love-hate problem with being used, abused?
Lisa doubted it. They all were probably happily married, had men to look after them, were incensed and embarrassed and totally humiliated. They would get over their horrible experiences in a month or a year but they would always remember their rape with fear, loathing.
Lisa's memories kept returning to how she had enjoyed it while hating it at the same time.
When a rustle came from outside her window, she jumped a foot. It could have been the untrimmed branch of the tree brushing against the glass. Or it could have been the rapist returning for a second helping of her juicy cunt.
She'd never felt more helpless or scared in her life. Until she could get her head together, she was a blind victim totally under the power of her own fears.
Lisa rushed to the telephone and called the only person she knew who might be able to call her.
Her brother, Steve, lived several miles away and was usually on the road selling heavy farm machinery. He hadn't been in town last night, he might not have returned.
The phone rang several times before a sleepy voice answered, "Yeah, what is it?"
"Oh, Steve!" she sobbed, her emotions boiling over. "I'm so glad to hear your voice – C-can you c-come over? I need you so!"
"I just got in and hit the sack." He hesitated a second, yawning loudly, then said, "Okay. Sounds like you got a world of problems. Big brother'll be over to kiss away the hurt or whatever. See you in, say, an hour?"
"Thank you, Steve. I… I'll explain when you get here. And please hurry. I need you!"
"Okay, Sis. Just stay cool. Nothing's going to happen. Be there in a while."
The dial tone seemed to mock her. And the forty-five minutes until Steve's knock on her door seemed an eternity. She knew it was him from the sound of his footsteps on the flagstone walk, the way he knocked. Being blind had few advantages and picking out distinctive sounds was one.
She threw the door open and flung herself around his neck. "Oh, Steve! Thank you for coming over! I've been so scared!"
"Scared? Of what?" he asked. He wasn't displeased with his sister's show of affection, but it confused him. She usually tried to be as independent as possible, to show the world she could make it without eyes.
The entire story came bubbling out. She told him of the rape, the way the police had acted, of Carl's departure for Scotland.
"But if you thought you heard someone scratching around outside, you should have called the cops. That's what they're being paid for."
"You weren't here last night. You didn't hear the way they talked. The one in charge made it sound like the rape was my fault. If I lived in a bank vault, I couldn't have prevented it!"
"Sure, Sis, sure. Just keep calm," he said, his arm around her shoulders. He pulled her close and kissed her.
He had to admit the police lieutenant probably wouldn't have understood the real problem with Lisa. She was beautiful but knew it only because others told her. The way her tits flared out impudently against the thin fabric of her T-shirt was incitement to riot as well as rape. She simply couldn't see this.
She couldn't see at all. And not seeing, she had no basis for comparison. She hardly believed she could be attractive to a man because the concept was based so much on seeing.
If the detective had seen her dressed in the T-shirt without a bra, her nipples tiny mushrooms on the white cotton fabric and those skin-tight jeans Lisa insisted on wearing, he would have been right thinking she was asking to be raped.
Steve knew better. Lisa dressed in what she felt comfortable in, that was her only consideration. That men would be turned on by the way she dressed was a vague concept she could accept intellectually, but not emotionally.
"I've looked over the place before I came in. There's no one around who shouldn't be here. The Hotchkiss kids were playing in the empty lot but they're home eating dinner probably. You might have heard them coming after their ball. Or it might have been the wind rustling the tree. I doubt it was anything more than that."
She clung to his arm, uncomfortably close. Did Lisa realize the way she was hanging onto him was most un-sisterly? Steve couldn't tell.
"I'm glad you came over, Steve. After Carl left, I… I just didn't know what to do!"
"That doesn't sound like you at all, Lisa. You're the independent one. At least, you're always telling me that. Ever since Mom and Dad died, you have gotten okay."
She fell silent for a moment, then suddenly said, "If it's safe outside, why don't I mix us a couple drinks for us and we can go sit on the back patio? It's so nice this time of year."
"Okay. Make mine the usual."
"The usual bourbon on the rocks or the usual screwdriver?" she asked.
"Bourbon. I need something nice and fiery hot down in my belly right now to soothe my nerves."
He couldn't interpret her smile or the cryptic, "Yeah, I know. I need something flew hot in my belly, too." With a quick twist she was gone. Steve might have been imagining it but it seemed as if his little sister gave her ass a little more wiggle than she usually did.
Going outside, he found it as pleasant a night as Lisa had promised. He sat in the double-seat swing and gently rocked back and forth, thinking. This might be a figment of his imagination, the way Lisa was coming on to him. He'd tried living down his feelings of lust for her ever since he'd been sixteen and she was only thirteen.
Even then, he'd seen more of a woman in her than most of the chicks he was dating in high school.
But society told him such longings were sick. He couldn't do anything as perverted as actually lusting after his own sister.
He did. But he was frustrated because he knew his more-than-brotherly-love could never amount to anything. Still, the thought crept into his mind that Lisa might have been as turned on by him as he was by her.
The way she was acting tonight suggested that.
His cock spasmed when she came through the lighted doorway. She was silhouetted perfectly by the bright light behind her. Tits jutted in a luscious display of tit flesh. The mounds were high and firm and big enough to satisfy any man.
And her legs! Encased though they were in the heavy denim jeans, he could see they were long, slender and could crush the very life out of a man if they were wrapped around his waist. And if she were that close, his cock would just have to be buried far up her tight little twat.
Steve didn't doubt for a second his sister had a cunt that could give a man intense pleasure. He wasn't sure about her relations with other men. She never mentioned her affairs, even with Carl. He knew she was no virgin. He also knew his cock wouldn't stay down.
He wanted to fuck her.
"Where are you, Steve? Oh, there you are!" She unerringly turned and came toward his seat in the quiet dark corner of the porch. His slight movement had caused the chains to squeak revealing his location to her.
She held out his drink. Suddenly his mouth felt filled with cotton. He gripped the glass as if his very life depended on it and downed the contents in one quick gulp. The amber fluid burned all the way down into his stomach where it pooled and began chewing away at his guts.
"You must be thirsty," she said. "Or something's bothering you. What is it?"
She sat disturbingly close to him. Her thigh pressed warmly against his. And the way she turned her blind eyes directly to his made him think she might not see his face but could look all the way into his soul.
"I'm just a little uptight over the stuff you've told me."
"Oh, don't be, Steve!" Her hand reached out and lightly touched his wrist. He jumped as if she'd stuck him with a needle.
"Steve! What's wrong, darling?"
"Nothing. Really, I… never mind." He wasn't able to cope with the way his prick was slowly rising in response to his illicit desire for her. And it slowly penetrated his brain she'd called him darling. She'd never done that before.
"Look, Lisa, what is it you want from me?"
"Nothing, Steve. Well, maybe company. I was so lonely. I felt clit off from everyone for the first time since Mother and Daddy were killed."
The plaintive tone in her voice quelled his thoughts that she was after him sexually. But that still didn't help his own desire for her.
"Well, if there's nothing else I can do, I'd better be going. Ins out on the road a long time and I'm tired."
"Wait! Don't go yet, please." Her hand reached out but missed his arm. She had her palm against his crotch. It was purely accident. After all, she couldn't see and he had been starting to stand.
Or was it accident? He couldn't tell. That robbed his legs of their strength and he fell back into the swing.
"I need you more than ever, Steve. I don't know how to say this. You've been my big brother, sure, but there's always been more. Like this."
Her hand rubbed over his crotch. There was no way he could hide his erection from her supple, well-educated fingers. Those fingers could detect the tiny bumps of a Braille text. There was no way they could miss the huge cylinder of his full erect cock struggling to be free of his jeans.
"I don't know what you mean," he lied.
"You do. We both know. I want you as much as you want me. Comfort me, darling, really comfort me. And you know how I mean!"
Her hand moved with the speed of light. There was a metallic hiss and his zipper was open. His prick snapped to rigid attention. Her fingers curled around it and gently stroked up and down.
"Lisa, please. We… I can't! This isn't right. It'll be incest!"
"Incest," she spat out. "That's just a scare word. What difference does it make to us? You're not going to knock me up. I'm on the pill. All that matters is what we feel! And I feel you wanting me!"
She tugged insistently at his cock.
For a moment, he couldn't decide if she was right or wrong. Then it no longer mattered.
He leaned forward and kissed her. The kiss wasn't a chaste, brotherly one. It was tender and passionate and insistent and demanding. He wanted her in his arms, writhing with joy, coupling with abandon.
He wanted to fuck the hell out of his sister!
And she obviously wanted him as badly.
Their mouths met and their tongues crashed into each other in their hurry for total arousal. Dancing wildly, their tongues caressed and stroked and gently massaged each other until both were breathing heavily.
Her hand on his cock, she pulled him down on top of her. The swaying of the swing seemed to add to their desire. It hinted at an ages-old motion of fucking. Before he knew it, his hands were working and unfastening the snap of her jeans.
Hips wiggling, body squirming, she quickly shed those light pants like a caterpillar shedding a useless skin. She changed into a glorious butterfly. His hand found her legs, her smooth, satiny legs and began stroking.
Slowly, his hand moved toward her crotch. The divine triangle of her sex beckoned him like a magnet pulls iron. But he resisted the urge to leap forward and stuff his finger up her twat. Instead, he was going to really show her how an expert lover operated.
He'd fuck her like she'd never been fucked before.
His hand inched toward her seething cunt. When his hand promised paradise, it quickly raced don the inside of her leg. The nerves from her snatch to the inside of her knee were all treated to a firm, toady gasp.
Then he slowly worked his way back toward her crotch. It we a torment and it we driving her wild with lust for him.
That was what he wanted.
She was struggling to pull his cock into her cunt. He resisted. As much as he wanted to mount her, then fuck his brains out, he held back. This had to be right. It wasn't every day a guy got to ball his own sister.
That thought worried him. Incest. His very own flesh and blood. His sister. His lovely, blind, helpless sister. Incest with her was wrong. It shouldn't be.
As he started to lift his weight from her pinned body, she gripped his cock and pulled him closer to her twat. There was sudden resolve in him. It didn't matter what went on between them. This was a private matter. Who cared if he was fucking his own sister?
She wanted it!
"Go on, babe, spread those lovely legs for me. Let me into your warm little cunt!" he whispered hotly in her ear. The swing began rocking under their combined weight as they moved into the proper position.
"I need you so! Fuck me good! Let me have your wonderful prick all the way up my cunt!"
She lifted her hips and draped one leg over the back of the seat so that her cunt was wantonly exposed to him. For a moment, all he could do was look. The sight of her drooling pussy lips almost made him blow his wad. He could feel the churning deep in his balls. It was only a matter of seconds before he was creaming all over the place like some kid getting his first piece of tail.
He took a deep breath and allowed her hand to guide his prick to her cunt. He hesitated for a moment. The heat boiling out of her twat was like the fires of hell.
Hips ramming forward, he buried his prick all the way to his balls.
It wasn't hell, it was sheer heaven!
He was surrounded by clutching hot female cunt. Every fold of her soft pussy seemed to grip at his cock, make him feel welcome. The heat boiling out threatened to melt him like an icicle in the sun. But the way her cunt walls squeezed down on him made sure that wouldn't happen.
His cock was rigid and would stay that way. Sheer carnal lust for his own sister insured that.
He began to work his hips back and forth. His cock almost slid out of her juicy quim because of the swaying motion of the swing. It gave a completely different feel to the fucking, that swaying back and forth. But it was a good feel. Almost as good as actually being buried full length in her cunt.
"More, faster, oh, ungh! I… I need you, dearest! Ride me hard! Give all your cock to me!"
He couldn't deny his very own sister this wish. Not when it was his desire, as well!
He began pistoning his hips forward with greater force. He could feel his balls wetly slapping against the girl's upturned ass. The moist fucking noises drove him on a much as her tight, hot pussy.
He could look down into her face, see the look of ecstasy on it. Incest? It was a scare word. Pleasure was the real word. This was the most enjoyable screwing he'd done in years. How badly he'd lusted after his own sister only to deny himself the pleasure.
His cock rammed faster and faster in her greased channel of lust. The friction built in his loins. He wasn't able to really get much leverage for the deep thrusts he so loved. The swing's motion prevented it. A foot planted firmly on the porch helped.
As his sister lifted her leg even higher over the back of the swing and let her other trim leg drift wider, he found himself fucking an incredibly tight pussy.
Never had he found a woman with a twat this small!
If he hadn't known better, he would have thought his sister was a virgin!
But no virgin could use her cunt muscles like she was. The smooth play up and down the length of her velvet lined cunt milked him of his cum. The way she clutched and gripped and played with his fucking cock told him she was adept at balling.
It was more than fun for her, it was an art. And she was an artist of the first class.
Panting, sweat running into his eyes, he kept his hips working harder and harder. He was splitting her apart with his powerful cock. His sister was only able to emit tiny moans of pleasure. No words would form telling how much she was getting off on this.
His cock fucked faster into her cunt. The heat mounted. Friction burned both pussy wail and prick. The fire moved slowly back into his balls. He felt the world tumbling around him.
Fucking her cunt. His sister's cunt. Incest. Warmth and pleasure never known before. Incest. Making the best of his chance with the lovely, blind girl. His sister's responding to his lovemaking. Their fucking taking on intense ecstasy for both.
Then he came. His cock erupted a fountain of pure white, burning hot cum. He spurted a tiny gob into her hungry cunt. Then his cock exploded with the fury of a bomb going off. He blasted his cum all the way into her womb.
Then he was vaguely aware of her shrieking in joy. Her hips were bucking hard, humping up to meet his every forward thrust. She was taking him in as far as she could. Her cum was matching his in intensity.
What was she thinking about?
Was it incest? Did she get off on the fact she was balling her own brother? Or was it something else?
Was he that good a cocksman? Had he fucked her better than any other stud ever had before?
He hoped that was it. He hoped she dug this simply because he was so expert a lover rather than because he was her brother. It didn't matter that much, but it mattered.
His passions spent, he felt his cock slowly go limp inside her twat. She was still wracked with her climax. He tried to keep her up on that lofty pinnacle of human desire for a little while longer by diddling her pea-sized clit.
It worked.
She screamed again and was thrashing through another orgasm before he realized it.
Then Lisa limply collapsed into the seat of the swing. She left her leg draped over the top of the seat, her cunt still lewdly exposed to his lusting gaze.
She simply didn't realize how much such things turned him on. Or did she? Steve couldn't come up with an answer for that question. Nor could he come up with much else for some time, no matter how sexy the sights she presented him.
"Should we have done it?" he asked her.
"Why not? I enjoyed the hell out of it. I just wish I could have seen what was going on."
"It's nice," he admitted. "But there may be things you get out of screwing other people can't. Your sense of feel might be better. You might get a larger charge out of my cock fucking you because you, can't see."
He suddenly shut up. He listened to what he was saying. It all sounded so perverted! He was talking about balling his sister. Every moral value he'd ever been taught had been broken here tonight.
And Lisa was his willing partner in the crime.
Crime? It didn't seem that way to him. It felt good. Incest? Maybe it was just a modern day hex word. Lisa was on the pill. He couldn't get her pregnant.
Then he shuddered. He wasn't going to father a child by his own sister! That was just too perverted for him to ever bear.
"It's chilly out here now, Steve. Let's go in."
He looked down at her still widely split beaver. No wonder she thought it was cold, especially without his cock warming her.
But he only said, "Yeah. Let's go in."