Archive-name: Family/brother.txt
Archive-author: Bill and Ellen
Archive-title: Open Marriage Chronicles - Brother


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. It had begun as a
tragedy. 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 would subsequently live with them only a year until I left to accept a
job in another city; Roger stayed with them through 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 been what
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. I didn't wish 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 both torture and 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 to begin nursing my young 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 to reach
and shut off the alarm, I hadn't moved. The room was dim, an hour away from
sunrise. Roger's manhood was 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 slender hips slowly rocked 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 penis that extended just beyond the back of my legs. My fingers
were drawn to it, stroking the tip; my manipulations caused it to pulse and
jitter, further arousing my stimulated body.

I rested my knee over Roger's hip, allowing my slender hand to reach for his member through the back of my legs. My fingers curled firmly around his young manhood. Cautiously, I pulled his penis' back and forth, afraid I might hurt him.

Although I'd had no such experience before, I knew just what to do. Just a
month before, I had crawled to the backyard shed's roof to watch the stars; I
was laying flat on my back, my hands  folded beneath my neck; I glanced toward
an almost imperceptible  movement at Roger's lighted window. Roger was standing
alongside  his bed, his hand pumping against his groin. I'd sat up, bracing my
 elbows 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. I was voluntarily
masturbating him with my hand at my back! The skin seemed so thin against the
pulsating muscle beneath. My fist was trembling like a leaf fluttering from our
backyard maple tree. 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  between the two of
us! 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 together. His
manhood pulled to and fro through my fingers. Gyrating my palpitating hips, I
pressed my clitoris madly against his throbbing firmness.

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; then, my
sensitive furrows felt his forceful jet thrust beneath me; his
orgasmic fluid was 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, the two of us beginning to
fully awaken, realizing what we were doing! 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 nude body. Roger puddled the sheet to the floor behind
him.
He pulled away in a slow agonizing roll of his hips. His member
seemed interminably long and unbelivably wet, gliding through my
legs. An electric shock rippled through me. I didn't close my robe
as he rose to a sitting position. He stood, turning to stare down at
my breasts and my pulsing groin. 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 breathless. My hips thrust out involuntarily
as my tense, wet fingers combed frantically through the thick black
curls over my mound. I spread my fingers, squeezing my groin as I
gazed upon his awesome body in a way I had never seen it before.
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 already
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 almost overwhelming 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.
But Roger controlled himself, now feigning disinterest, as if
it hadn't occurred. Lifting his towel from the floor at the doorway,
he mumbled, "Want cornflakes 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:

The hairs now stand out on the back of my neck when I think
where all this led to. I couldn't have known it early that night,
but I was about to walk into a strange land of the mind that I
couldn't have imagined if I hadn't been there.
I'd always liked Ellen's brother. He likes the Army, almost
seeming to be married to it. He looks like he stepped from a
recruiting poster - short black hair, athletic, and as handsome as
Ellen is beautiful.
Having lived the first 18 years of my life in a military
orphanage, I would have been expected to have cared as much for the
Marines; but I didn't, even after nine years in the Corps before
becoming a civilian engineer. Now, I think better of it in
retrospect, tending 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.
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 hip-length 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.
She smiled with an agreeable nod.
As I watched her long, firm legs walk toward the hallway, I
laughed, asking, "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 colored 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 few 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,
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 shadowed images 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, "Being in my
robe, while a towel's wrapped around your waist, reminds me of
something 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 and at the brownish circle
of a nipple that he could see from where he sat.
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 didn't bother me. 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. "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
agreed.
I added, "It's possible to have a number of sensual experiences
which aren't incestual." 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.
And now, Ellen glanced at his engorged member, raising the
towel like a flag pole. She gasped! After a moment's shocked
silence, her voice was hoarse and quivering as she asked me, "What
.... what did you want him to do?" She gulped, then looked away with
a slight jerk of her head like she was trying to clear her mind of
the alcohol-induced trance. She turned her again to look at him.
I suggested that she sit over her brother's groin, facing him.
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.
Roger's facial muscles twitched as he glimpsed the slightly
open folds of Ellen's robe, 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. Her brother lay his hands on her hips,
beneath the wide slits at the sides of her robe.
She inhaled sharply as his hands touched her hips; she couldn't
look away from the rising protrusion of the towel covering his
groin. Her voice tremored as she asked me, "What now?" 
I reached to untie Ellen's robe, pulling it open. She looked at
me fearfully, gasping as she started to re-tie the belt. Then, she
hesitated, turning her questioning face toward her brother. 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, he raised himself slightly on his
elbows, blinking as he surveyed the fullness of her breasts and her
groin's smoothly shaved mound. Ellen's jaw sagged, her stare affixed
in awesome wonder at her brother's raised 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 her hips, 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 lowered her
long, firm legs until her knees touched the floor, settling slowly
down upon his groin.
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 quaked 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 my back to 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 excited
thighs involuntarily squeezed his hips, relaxed, and squeezed again.
Roger's legs fidgeted, 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;
then she thrust her own hips forward, 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 knew what he meant. I shouldn't be enjoying it either.
Ellen whimpered, "Don't stop." 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. He heaved his loins upward as she completed each
forward thrust of her hips. Her excited hips wriggled as his cock
slithered up the furrow of her eager, heated cunt and slid against
her clitoris. The movement caused her to squeal in agonizing
pleasure.
Ellen thought I'd left for the bedroom. She whispered, "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?"
Enflamed with lust, Roger grasped her hips, lifting her from
him as 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
grinded invitingly against the soft carpet. Her wide eyes glinted in
the dim light. 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 thrust and grinded his hips helplessly in the
narrow distance between them.
Ellen shuddered wantonly as her quivering fingers clawed
frantically through his thick black patch of pubic hair. Her
questioning eyes sought his, their unbridled lust fueled by mind-
swirling intoxication. Her fingers tighted around his cock, pumping
madly.
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. 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, extending 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 long 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 to be performed before 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 his way into her vaginal
muscles which were contracted with fear. Then she 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.
Her lips stretched wide, in a shocked and silent scream as her
cunt was stretching her brother's uncommon size. Then, sobbing
ecstatically, Ellen screamed, "Oh, Roger! You're killing me! You're
so fucking BIG! OH! Do it! I can't STAND it! It's KILLING me! DO it!
Fuck me, Roger! 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 ecstasy! 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 tumultous bliss they'd never known; she bucked
against him as her hands ran up and down his torso. The enflamed
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 as she gyrated her
groin, taking in his 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 wall tightly on it
again and again. I'd seen Ellen fucked by 
others before; she'd never been fucked like this! She was immersed 
in this passionate storm, united completely with a man she'd loved 
but never really known. And as I watched and listened to their 
passion raging like the mightiest of hurricanes, I realized I didn't 
know either one of them!

I know that I've told you little about my life, but I've lived 
and slept under threats of life and limb - once on the run for a 
dozen days and nights beneath unrelenting enemy fire, probably 
because they thought we were fifty or more men, instead of just five 
scared marines, three of whom wouldn't live to see the age of 22 
before the month was out. We slept in short shifts as thunderstorms 
arrived on the hour and pesty snakes were crawling through our mud-
soaked sleeping bags; I was nursing a fractured wrist, enfluenza, 
and a festering cut in my groin from crawling through a quarter mile 
of river rocks; and as if the jungle gods hadn't done enough, I was 
half blind for the final three days, thanks to non-stop migraines; 
and yet, because I would be checked into a hospital for two weeks, I 
was to be the luckiest of the five. I'd been scared out of my wits 
from the first rumble of the mortars to the moment a merciful flock 
of Army choppers filled with hulking green berets cleared the jungle 
and whisked us away. Two months later, I was with a fresh group of 
recons. It wasn't any better. 

You get the idea. I know what it's like to be afraid.
But now, listening to the gutteral howls of an ancient siren's 
song emanating from Ellen's and Roger's throats, I felt a fear I'd 
never known. I can't tell you why I felt that way; I don't know. I'd 
never heard anything like it.

And it was the most erotic melody that I could've imagined. I 
gasped. I was coming also, my knees buckling as I leaned against the 
wall. 

It wasn't an event; it was a feeling. The feeling passed and 
wasn't to be felt again - either by me or by them.
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 
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 sheated his 
broad sword to the hilt. The savage onslaught caused her mouth and 
eyes to open widely in suprise. 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 
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 exercize. That had been 
one hell of a night.
Just an hour before sunrise, the alarm jolted me from the bed. 
I walked downstairs to Roger's room where I'd dragged them to his 
bed the night before. His mouth was nursing her breast as they 
slept. They had been in a drunken slumber earlier when I'd pulled 
Ellen's robe over her shoulders, leaving it open in front, and 
arranged their bodies as they'd been 15 years before.  I had dropped 
Roger's towel in the open doorway. 
resetting the alarm for two minutes away, I placed it on the 
headboard above them and walked to the kitchen to make coffee. 
Fifteen seconds after the alarm went off, gales of laughter 
erupted from the room.  Ellen was still laughing when she stumbled 
into the kitchen, her robe tied. Roger followed, his towel around 
his hips, leaning his head against his arm on the kitchen counter as 
he guffawed. Well, that wasn't what I'd thought would happen.
There would be no repeat performance, but I'd learned long ago 
that few things in life work out the way we think they will. 
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.
 
                                       THE END
--
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