Izzy was in heaven; her brother tasted wonderful; clean and tangy, with a salty-sweet aftertaste, and he smelled nice too, a fresh, slightly salty, slightly metallic scent, and under that, the smell of his skin, clean and masculine, with just a hint of shower-soap and fresh water; obviously he’d freshened-up for Shulagh. Too bad she was never going to get her hands on this, thought Izzy, not now, not ever.
She sucked and squeezed him, fisting him as she sucked, losing all sense of the fact he was her brother; now he was just the man she wanted, the man whose cock she was sucking so avidly.
Ollie sensed her need. Now they’d come this far, there was only one thing he wanted to do. He stepped back, pulling his cock from her suctioning mouth with an audible ‘pop!’
Izzy looked up at him in hurt surprise; surely this was what he wanted…?
She smiled when he suddenly leaned down and pulled her top up, revealing her pert, perfect little breasts, the pouting mounds topped with dark pink nipples like rose hips, hard little fruit ripe for the plucking. Ollie wasted no time in pushing her onto her back; his lips clamped around one nipple, his teeth and tongue gently scraping and lashing the hard little bud as he squeezed and rolled the other between thumb and forefinger.
Izzy was in a world of delight; her breasts were always the most sensitive part of her, and she loved the feeling of her tops and blouses rubbing against her nipples, teasing them, keeping them erect, and keeping her in a constant state of low-level arousal, and now her brother was squeezing, sucking and biting them gently, all the things she liked.
She almost cried out when he lifted his lips away from her breasts, her protests dying unsaid as his lips crushed against hers, while his hands squeezed and pulled her buttocks apart. Her eyes widened and she squealed into his mouth as he slowly, unstoppably, slid his length deep into her tight, juicy pussy.
Izzy had had sex many times before, but never with a man like Ollie, and certainly had never had a prick that big shoved into her before. All her switches blew wide-open as that thick flesh drove tirelessly into her, pounding her into the bed, building to an impossible crescendo inside her, until finally, when she thought she could take no more, her orgasm hit, slamming into her like a thunderclap, her scream of release only muffled by his lips sealed around hers.
As she came, her pussy tightened convulsively around him, a pressure Ollie had never felt before either, a sensation that instantly triggered his own climax. His cock pulsed, twitched and threshed, convulsing like a live creature as sperm gushed into her like a fire-hose, endlessly spurting, filling her with a heat like never before. The sensation of Ollie exploding inside her, the knowledge of just how forbidden and taboo this act really was, sent her off into another orgasmic spasm, and another; she could actually feel his cockhead swelling and throbbing with the force of his ejaculations, again and again, and again.
Ollie groaned as she squealed and panted into their tightly-sealed mouths, her hands holding his head rigidly as their kiss went on and on. Her supple thighs gripped him tightly, and her legs crossed behind him to hold him against her as their mutual orgasm burned and seared through them.
At last, her brother’s rigid muscles relaxed as he finished, completely spent inside her. Izzy relaxed her thighs, releasing him as she slumped back on the bed, both of them with their lips still locked together in that spectacular kiss, tongues still intertwined as the afterglow took them.
Finally, Ollie raised himself up on his elbows and smiled down at her.
“Are you okay, Iz?” he whispered.
Izzy smiled languidly back up at him, careless of the fact she was naked from the waist down, that her top was pushed up to her shoulders, her nipples were huge and throbbing caps on her swollen, tender breasts, and her pussy was gaping, red, and swollen.
That had been the best sex she’d ever had; all her other boyfriends and lovers had been self-centred pricks who’d got on, got off, then rolled off, leaving her hanging. It had taken her brother to show her what shuddering, shattering, window-rattling sex was like. She nodded somewhat blearily and gave him two shaky thumbs-up as she grinned, biting her bottom lip and looking hot and desirable in her ‘just fucked’ state.
Ollie grinned and pulled her upright. Izzy was like a rag doll in his powerful grip, suddenly appreciating for the first time just how much poise and power her brother had, both physically and in the way his personality had overwhelmed hers.
He held her against him, his big hands clamped tightly around her bottom, keeping her crotch tightly pressed to his, and they gazed at each other, their lips lightly grazing and breaking away, to graze again, and again, acknowledging this new phase in their relationship, and recognising the way they now felt about each other.
“Hi, Bonehead…” she breathed, kissing him tenderly, darting her tongue out to lick his lips as she kissed him. Ollie responded just as playfully, his hands still holding her deliciously firm bottom tightly.
“Hi Skanky…” he whispered back, before kissing her again, this time holding the kiss, showing her what she meant to him.
Lost in their rapt examination of each other as they kissed and licked each other’s lips, neither of them noticed the faint creak of the floorboards outside Ollie’s room, or that the previously closed door was now very slightly ajar.
Part 3: The plot unfolds, and gets hijacked:
Carol Bartlett tiptoed away down the corridor, shocked at what she’d seen and heard, but also, if truth be told, aroused as well. So Ollie thought she was hot, did he, and now he was plotting with his little sister to fuck her? The thought made her tingle inside, and Carol couldn’t decide if she was amused and aroused, annoyed and aroused, or just plain aroused, but she was honest enough with herself to at least admit the arousal.
Izzy was right about one thing; five years WAS too long to do without. It was just that no-one had yet managed to interest her in the way James, her husband, had, and still did, even though he’d broken her heart when he took-off with that blowsy, bleached harlot.
More and more these days, Carol had been daydreaming about Ollie and what he got up to with his girlfriends; she’d been surprised to hear that Shulagh wasn’t letting him get a sniff, considering what a slut Shulagh’s big sister was, and how legendarily easy her mother had been. Carol remembered how, when she was young, the word was that all you had to do was tip your hat at her and Marla Devlin would be flat on her back with her panties around one ankle and the Vaseline on standby; she was notorious for being able to trip a guy up and be under him before he hit the floor. Carol had just assumed that Shulagh, like her sister, was a chip off the old block, and that Ollie had been reaming-out that gorgeous, flame-haired little cock-tease on a regular basis; now, to find out he was on the boil and had no-one to take it out on, well, that just opened up a whole range of possibilities…
The fact he’d just shagged his sister meant surprisingly little to her; they were both almost ridiculously good looking, young, and fizzing with pent-up sexual tension. It had been only a matter of time, and it didn’t really bother her, for some very good reasons that concerned all three of them.
Rather, it made her envious (and horny) and so Carol came to the decision that what was good for Izzy was equally good for her; the time was approaching for her to let Ollie have his way with her; he’d had his fun with Izzy, they’d started plotting to get her, so they were both old enough now to find out the truth about this family; now, all she had to do was let him set her up for the great seduction; this should be fun…
*
The following morning, Carol puttered around the breakfast kitchen, making breakfast early; both Ollie and Izzy had classes all day, so she was making them a proper hot breakfast. Ollie studied her thoughtfully. Instead of her usual frumpy housecoat, she was wearing a cut-off, baggy T-shirt and skin-tight grey yoga pants. Ollie was lost in contemplation of her really quite spectacular booty, and the sleek lines and alluring curve of her long, slender thighs and neatly turned calves, when Izzy nudged him, slopping his tea over the table as he snapped out of his trance-like state.
Carol saw the whole thing out of the corner of her eye, and smiled to herself; so, the little plotters were getting ready to make their move, were they? Time to up the stakes…
“Ollie, eat something!” she reminded him, and bent down to open the oven door, her stretchy yoga-pants pulled tight against her delicious bottom and up between her thighs, the clingy material outlining a slight, but unmistakeable, camel-toe. Her loose tee also hung down, and she subtly manoeuvred herself so he was looking straight up at the undersides of her bra-less breasts as they swung unfettered inside her top. Carol heard the softly indrawn breath, and knew he was openly ogling the double-curve of her bum and the crack of her backside, clearly outlined in the tight, stretchy leggings. She could hear him shifting uncomfortably as he tried to see even further up her shirt.
That being so, she made sure she wriggled just enough to make her cheeks quiver and her boobs swing and swoop around inside her t-shirt, drawing another soft hiss of indrawn breath from him. When she was sure she’d given him enough to have a very uncomfortable, distracted day, she straightened-up, pretending not to notice the strained look on Ollie’s face, and the puzzled, wary look on Izzy’s as she went about her breakfast tasks, all the while making sure her splendid backside displayed the maximum amount of wriggle and jiggle inside those sleek, skin-tight pants.