The living room was warm and cheerful but Steve didn't feel that way. He was despondent. It was more than a post-fucking depression, too. That he had long ago analyzed, thought out and become satisfied with his answers.
Sometimes, when he'd really looked forward to balling a certain chick, he'd be depressed afterwards, no matter how much he enjoyed the actual fucking. He figured it was just one of those things. His expectations had been higher than the actual, delivery.
Steve could enjoy the balling a lot, but he thought it should have been better. It could be good, it should have been the greatest ever.
He simply had too big an expectation at times. Steve surprised himself sometimes by screwing a woman he thought would be a real stud, then finding a warm glow inside afterwards. She'd far exceeded his expectations. She may not have been as good in the sack as another, but she was better than he'd thought she would be.
What worried the man now was that he felt so damned good about balling his sister. He'd wondered how great it would be for years and years. Deep down in his head, he'd figured it would be tremendous.
It was.
But it was incest. It was wrong. Everything told him that it was, yet he could find nothing within him to prove it. No depression from false hopes. If anything, she'd kindled the fires of his lust for her. He wanted to fuck Lisa now more than he had when she'd spread those lovely legs for bun out on the parch.
He heard the sliding glass door close and lock. Steve saw his sister give the door a tug, checking the latch. Then she pulled the drapes shut.
"I forget to do that sometimes. It's hard to remember people might be out there watching," she said.
"Not after last night, I hope. Maybe that convinced you to make a mental checklist and follow it. Doors locked, blinds don."
"It did something to me, all right. But I can't say exactly what it was, Steve. You're a man of the world. You've been around. Maybe you can help me get my head straight."
"Shoot. After what we've just done, maybe you can help me get my head straight."
"You're hung up on that?" Her laugh was low, musical. He was reminded of a music box his mother had kept on her dresser.
"Yeah, hung up in a real bad way."
"Because you enjoy it so much." It was a statement, not a question. Lisa had gone straight to the heart of his problem.
"That's it. I enjoyed it and I don't think I should have. But what the hell, tell me about your problem. Rape's got to be more of a mind-fuck than incest."
She settled down in the chair, her jeans barely hiding her belly. She had put them on but not fastened them. He could see a tiny wet spot spreading out from the crotch. She was still hot for him!
He almost bit his tongue as he studied her. She was tense, sure, but it was more than that. The way her tits rose and fell heavily sent tingles into his cock. The nipples were hard and erect with desire. Her entire posture was one of openness to sex.
"It's like this, Steve. I hate that man for what he did to me, but I feel something else, too. It's something that's not hate. Not love," she quickly said, "but not hate. I needed what he did to me. Can you ever understand that?"
He looked at her and saw she was crying. The sight of the tears dribbling down her cheeks leaving salty tracks was more than he could bear. He went to her and took his sister in his arms.
"I guess. I don't know. I just can't put myself in your place."
"Thanks, Steve. Thanks for the honesty. I don't believe I could have stood it if you'd said 'Sure, I know what you feel'. I don't know what's going through my mind. Oh, it's all so damned confusing!"
"It was rough. But that's past. We can hang on to each other," Steve said, only slightly realizing what he was saying.
Lisa was trembling in his arms. He gently led her to the sofa and they both sat down. She was so much like the small child he used to comfort, it was hard to realize she was a full grown woman.
The way her boobs pressed into his arm reminded him constantly of just how full grown a woman she was. The hard nipples at the crests of her tits were pulsing with arousal. He wasn't able to tell if it was sexual or emotional excitement enlarging them.
Her emotions were running up and down the scale like a student playing the piano. It didn't have to be lust for him making her nipples hard.
It a strange way, though, he hoped it was. The incest thing hadn't gotten worked out in his own head yet, but he knew he loved his sister. And that love was complex.
"Lisa, don't cry now. Just listen to me a minute and see if what I say makes sense. Can you do that?" He dabbed away her tern.
She nodded and tried to smile. It wasn't too successful.
"There're many types of love. Brother-sister love is obvious or even mother-daughter. Call it family love. Then there's the love a man can have for a woman. This is a complicated one. A man can be many things to a woman. She can look to him for support. Or to be a provider. Or just for sex. Or all of those and maybe a dozen more. If you weren't getting the type of love from Carl you needed, maybe this rapist gave you a hint of the type of man-woman love you do need."
"Are you saying I have to be raped to make love and like it?"
"No, nothing of the sort. But maybe Carl wasn't doing it right. His sexual techniques may have left something in you unsatisfied. The number of ways of making love depend on the number of people in the world and how inventive they are."
"Carl was pretty inventive. We've even screwed in the shower."
"But was it the same form of balling? Was he always gentle with you?"
There was a pause as the woman thought. Then, slowly, carefully, she said, "Yes, he was. He was the most gentle man I've ever met. Not always considerate, but always gentle." Her voice hardened a little as she said, "I guess he was a bit on the soft side."
"Soft? That's one way of looking at it. Maybe you need to have a man tell you what to do now and then. Not all the time, just occasionally for variety. Maybe you need a real man, one who's masterful, more powerful than you are. Your independence because of your blindness could make you need this to reassure yourself of your femininity."
"You're saying I should be treated like a Goddamn slave? The hell with that!" she flared.
"I didn't say anything like it. I just said maybe you need a man who is a man. You probably ended up telling Carl how to make love all the time. That's as bad as letting the man do it all the time. It's got to be a give and take proposition."
"So with the rapist, I found someone who wasn't going to do what I wanted? You mean that may have actually been good for me?"
"Only if it's opened your sexual vistas and let you see a part of yourself you've kept hidden."
"I don't believe it," she flatly said.
"I do. I've known you for a long time, Lisa. I've watched you row up. Maybe I know you better than you think."
There was a long silence, then the woman tried to pull away from her brother's grip around her shoulders. He didn't let her go.
"I think my cock's in need of a little mouth love. Your mouth. Suck on my cock," he commanded.
"No! I won't do any such thing, Steve Hopkins! I…"
And she was on her knees, pulled down by his powerful arm. His hands snaked into her hair and forced her head down. She felt the muscles in the back of her neck knotting, from the strain. This wasn't what she wanted!
Her brother's cock would be tasty, of that she was sure. She even wanted it, but not this way!
She fought. Her fingers tried to rake his legs and found only heavy denim. When her ruby lips touched the tip of his prick, she tried to tell him to go fuck himself.
As she opened her mouth, a powerful hand shoved her face down around his prick.
In spite of herself, she had his prick in her mouth. And again, as it had been with the rapist, she found her body betraying her. The taste of his prick was good. She loved the heavy, male musky taste that lingered on her tongue.
She had to close her lips. When she did, she found a perfect seal around his prick. She still struggled, however. It seemed to be working. Her head rose slightly as the pressure on the back of her neck, lessened.
Then she realized exactly what was happening. He was allowing her to move her lips along the sides of his prick. He was making her give him head whether she wanted to or not. Everything so far had been done because he wanted it done. Even the mild face fucking was his doing. She suddenly knew he was strong enough to hold her face at his prick forever if he wanted.
By releasing her, he could feel her lips sliding over his cock. That would give him pleasure. And, sure as the sun rises in the morning, it was also making her more aware of her own womanly desires.
The tiny wet spot at her crotch spread like wildfire. She tried to keep from becoming emotionally involved in this degrading, incestuous act of forced oral sex.
She couldn't.
Her body was crying out how great it all was. She loved the taste of his cock. Even some of the cum he'd blasted into her cunt remained. She tongued that off and discovered another tangy flavor she hadn't known before. It took a couple seconds for her to realize this was her dried cunt juice still remaining on his cock.
She was tasting her very own fuck fluids as well as his dried jism and prick!
Her breath came a little faster as she knew it was impossible fighting him. Her brother was too strong. He could force her to do this horrible thing.
But was it so horrible? Hadn't she done this very act before, a lot of times before? She loved the taste of a man's cock, the way it slid in and out of her mouth as she sucked.
How could he force her to do something she really wanted to do?
The conflict in her mind confused her.
Until she could think it through, it was best to follow the dictates of her body and her brother. She began really sucking on his cock. Her cheeks caved in with the suction. Her tongue rolled around the hooded rim of his prick until he was moaning in sheer delight.
"That's, the way. See how nice it can be, oh, yeah!" he cried.
His hand on the back of her neck wouldn't permit her to raise her head. She had to keep sucking on his prick. That was all she could do bent double, that long, hard fuck stick crammed into her mouth.
"Gimme more of that mouth, sister dear!" he commanded.
She began moving her head up and down his length with greater speed. He let her. It pleased him so he let her set her own face fucking speed. She began using all the little tricks she'd learned so well. The way her tongue cradled his cock as it rammed into her mouth was just one.
As his cock came rushing in between her lips, she lightly bit down. Not much, not enough to hurt. But her white teeth left fiery red tracks on the sides of his prick. It had to stimulate him. The blood it brought into his already hard cock throbbed with a vitality that would have otherwise been missing.
Her lips quickly soothed the tortured flesh. She licked and sucked and tongued until he was gasping for air. His pleasure was immense. And she was the one giving it to him!
He might have forced her to start, but she'd be the one who'd finish this off in style!
"More! Love it! Give me more!" he ordered.
She took his entire cock into her mouth. He was long, far longer than most of the men she was used to. The rubbery tip of his cock bounced off the roof of her mouth, then slipped past her tonsils. She was no Linda Lovelace, but she could take cock without choking.
Positioning her head and throat in just the right way was the secret. She felt his cock go ail the way to the hilt in her face. His balls were scant inches from her chin. Her nose burrowed in the tangled mat of his pubic hair.
Best of all, she had swallowed his entire fleshy sword. Keeping her tongue out of the way, yet still moving constantly against the sides of his cock, was the hard part. Everything else came easy.
His cock was beginning to jerk and dance around in her throat. She could barely contain it now. She knew it was aroused. That was her sole intent. She was succeeding wonderfully for both of them.
"I'm hanging on!" he muttered. "Can't much longer. Your mouth. Like a Goddamn vacuum cleaner. Pulling the jizz outta me. Christ!"
She allowed his cock to slip from her throat. She gasped in relief as she found she could breath easily again. The hot air she was expelling from her nostrils gusted through his crotch. His balls felt the hot breeze and contracted even more. Everything she did to him was an added sexual bonus. The lightest touch of her mouth pushed him closer to a climax.
Even the way she breathed was robbing him of his iron control.
She loved the feeling.
She began bobbing her head up and don on his spike of hard cock. She allowed the cock scant room to get into her mouth. She squeezed down as hard as she could with her lips.
Her tongue did the rest.
The rim of his glans received special attention. She quickly circled it, then pressed firmly against the flap of skin dangling under the head of his cock. This was the most sensitive portion on his prick. Her oral love here could bring him off in a matter of seconds.
As she felt his cock begin to expand with added lust, she pushed his cock from her lips using her tongue. Pressed firmly against the very tip of his prick, she was both sucking and pushing at the same time.
"Can't hold back much longer. Keep goin', keep it going!" he gasped.
The pressure of his hand on the back of her head lessened a little as control slipped from his body. She was slowly becoming the one calling the shots in this sexual encounter.
She couldn't have been happier.
This was her brother she was so avidly eating. Not just anyone. Her very own brother. How long she'd craved to suck on his prick. The number of times she had lain awake nights wondering what it would be like fucking him came back to her. As a teenager, she'd always been insanely jealous of his girl friends.
But the incest thing prevented her saying or doing anything.
The days when such considerations were important were gone forever. They were adults. They could do anything they wanted.
She wanted her brother's cock.
Getting it was simpler than she would have thought. To imagine he'd been lusting after her all these years, too! It was almost enough to make her laugh.
She would have except for the luscious prick she had in her mouth. With her tongue driving hard into the tiny hole at the end of his fuck stick, she could tell how much longer it would be before he got his rocks off.
It wouldn't be long.
She could feel the pin-prick sized hole expand slightly. As his cock began pulsating more violently in her mouth, she knew he was fighting back the tide of his jism. She could almost sense it coming along the entire length of his eight-inch prick.
When the first spurt popped into her mouth, it splattered all over her tonsils. She was disappointed. She was greedy enough to want every single drop of it. As the second geyser blasted out, her tongue was pressed firmly against that tiny spigot.
She got her tongue coated with the gooey cream of man seed.
It was the most delicious thing she'd ever tasted.
His hips were bucking, ramming toward her face. He was face-fucking her with powerful strokes now. She allowed him to drive his spike of pleasure as far as he could into her mouth.
As long as she got his cum, she was happy.
All too soon, the fountain of salty jism died. She kept sucking until his penis slipped from between her lips, dead for the second time that night. But Lisa knew it would rise up like a Phoenix from its ashes. It wouldn't stay dead long.
Not as long as she could suck on it.
She felt powerful fingers lifting her face upwards.
"You're wonderful, Sis. And do you see what I meant about being made to do something you enjoy? It gives the act a whole new meaning."
"Says you. I just love giving head."
"And you've got some of my jizz dribbling down your chin. Let me take care of that for you."
His lips closed on her smooth flesh and he began sucking off the tiny river of his own cum. When his tongue started licking and giving her a cat bath, she quivered. It was a deep, wracking shudder.
He pulled her closer, kissed her fully on the lips. When their tongues reached out, she realized hers was still coated with his cum. That seemed to be what he was after. He stroked and caressed and sucked on her tongue until they were both exhausted.
She rested, her head against Steve's shoulder. For a long time, neither said a word.
Then, "I think you might be right, Steve. Forcing me to do something I enjoy does make it more exciting. But how far can you really think this goes with me?"
He smiled. He was determined to find out. The floodgates of passion had barely been cracked in his sister's body, of that he was sure.
And he wanted to be around when her full sexuality came pouring out. It would certainly be a hell of a lot of fun for both of them!