One In The Same

He said “I know you’re virgin, Maggie” and threw her over onto her back to a slouching, half-seated position and stepped between her legs, “…and ovulating” and she as suddenly tried to bring her knees together. Unable to guard herself, she put her hand to his abdomen – an uncertain, trembling touch, suggesting she could be scared of him, a new drama to be played out. 

“ …no, baby, please; not this way – not yet” a soft plea, but he thought she might cry.

George dropped to his knees between her legs and Maggie grabbed him by the shoulders, neither pulling him toward her nor pushing him away, just trying to steady the chaos around her. He kept his hands at her waist and, her panic lessening, she let him draw close enough to kiss her and he whispered in her ear:

“You wanted me to, and you were afraid I would; you lie too, precious” he said, and she bit down on his earlobe hard enough to draw blood. He remained motionless until she had finished injuring him, unclenching her teeth and then sucking his wound, nursing the injury she had inflicted on him. George then held Maggie away from him at arms length and saw her furious with emotion, no less than the storm outside their window.

“I’m gonna fuck you dead” she spat, both a sob and a hiss.

“Shhh …” soothing, conciliatory, and he put his mouth to her left breast, and then her right, sucking her nipples gently, deliberately, not as a hungry child but rather as an animal relishing its prey. Lowering his head, he slung his arms under her legs and kissed and licked her lower belly, where her legs joined her hips, and along her inner thighs; he would not concede her real pleasure just yet and she knew he was stalking her and her warm aroma grew ever more moist. Maggie finally placed her hands at the back of his head and George allowed her his undivided attention, luxurious and excruciating. Stroking his hair and full of his face, when she felt his tongue bathe and then probe her rectum – a deeply wet and grotesque shame she could not discourage – she rocked her pelvis up against his mouth, demanding she be ravaged.

Resurfacing, he uncapped the tube of lubricant and Maggie raised her knees toward her ears. George inserted the plastic nozzle into her anus and emptied ¼ of its contents up her lower intestine and she shivered. He set aside the dispenser and smeared the jelly over her surface and rim and inserted one finger to the first knuckle, snug and stubborn, then two and three fingers, somewhat more so, and sliding up to the last knuckles he turned and twisted his fingers around inside her, coating her orifice and ensuring she was agape and gooey and seeping with preparation. They watched each other’s eyes while they both readied her and said nothing, only listening to the rainfall outside and the moist noises of her being delicately reamed.

He withdrew his fingers from her and stood, and she lowered her legs and sat up. George placed a hand behind his sister’s head at the base of her skull; a bitter, saline dollop of pre-semen had gathered and now hung from the end of his erection and then Maggie took her brother into her mouth, sucking and sipping, softly tasting his flesh and fluid. They did this without thought, an unconscious obedience to their base instincts as a man and a woman, consensually alone and naked in the other’s presence, a harbinger to their impending communion, however vile.

George withdrew from Maggie’s mouth and handed her the tube of lubricant, disallowing her any illusion of passivity. She squeezed another ¼ of the jelly into her palm and slathered his cock with a slippery, gelatinous finish. She wiped the excess from her hands on his buttocks and along the length of his thighs and looked up into his eyes.

“Get on your knees & elbows” he said, “ …bend over, Maggie – and beg for it.” An ugly, lame assertion, and so she instead stood nude before him.

“You’ll earn me this time, boy” and she smacked him hard across the mouth. He grabbed her by the wrists and yanked her close, looking far into her eyes with a frightening, lightening-sky strike of violent carnality – and George so desperately loved her all over again for so far having so wonderfully played along, since this would be, they both knew, from now on all too real. He wiped his tongue once, wet and thick, up the front of her face.

“I’m going to make an awful lot of room back there, sweet-seat” he told her, brushing his lips against hers, “ – powerfully, prodigiously …” 

“ – ‘ease me your meat’? ‘People my peep-hole – impolitely’? Say it, coward” she told him, struggling, feral and forcing him to further force her. “Tell me what you want.”

“I’m going to so buttfuck you, Maggie” he said low and tonelessly, and she hung on his promise no less than she hung from his arms, her breathing harried, fitful huffs, and as well licking his face while he assured her of his love as combat. “I’m going to so cornhole you, my love; fuck you anally far up your pretty ass like I’ve always wanted to. I’m gonna cram my cock hard up your butt and screw you long after you’ve cried ‘no’ and until ‘yes’ means I’ve cum inside you and popped your beauteous ass for only the first time for the rest of our lives. Yes, I want to buttfuck you, Maggie; you – my own sister, my brave, brash girl” and he swung her over onto her hands and knees inside the corner of the couch back and with a stinging swat of her haunch. George knelt behind Maggie and locked his knees to the inside of hers, spreading her legs apart and her backside wide, exposing her pristine pink squint. He started the timer and it began counting down the minutes in electronic silence from sixty. He wedged the head of his cock between her cheeks and, pressed blunt against the fragile aperture of her anus, he held her hips inescapably in place.

Until this moment, sexplay with her brother felt as if she had awakened underwater to discover that she could still breathe, or that she were asleep and yet aware she was dreaming. However, their fun now no more just abstract speculation and her bare ass sacrificially held fixed in his grip, his scored, calloused palms parting her seat cheeks, Maggie knew with terrifying clarity that what she had meticulously incited her brother to do she would indeed next endure and that with George formidably and irreparably set sledgehammer at and in appallingly voluminous contrast to her access – her hopelessly, vainly unyielding elasticity – there were finally no tricks or curses or bullying that would stop him – her once reliably expert, scheming femininity, any attempt to exploit her brother’s love for her no longer of any consequence. She felt him push and she knew ruefully he would next be supremely inside her and make her yell and that she desired it, that she wanted his intimate hurt of her, and this atrocity would then be now.

Until this moment, sexplay with his sister was a playful if volatile exchange of control, each alternately seducing the other, their mutual manipulation of one another swinging back and forth as a feather floats to earth until their instincts alighted onto their purest ground. However, his wettest dreams now made real – Maggie’s creamy, bare rump ceremoniously held firm in his hands, her buns vulnerably separated soft, dividing her crack and redoubtably, inexorably set rock-cock hot against her elasticity – her sweetly, vainly unyielding access – George could see that he was really, criminally, too broad for her this way and that, worse, this savagery of her by his size would not stop him. He began to push and knew ruefully he would next be supremely inside her and make her yell and that he would enjoy it, that he craved his intimate hurt of her, and this atrocity would then be now.

When she felt him begin to pull her onto him, pry and pack himself into her, feeling the endlessly exponential stretch then helpless give of her sphincter – this secret, indelible branding of Maggie by his distension of her forever marking her as his (though in truth she knew she now owned him) – she triumphantly and in defiance of her own well-being sat back hard onto his post. In that instant the whole of George’s mass solidly disappeared up Maggie’s behind: a thick squish of lubricant and a crashing slap of flesh, they withdrew just shy of his entire length and, repeating the ferocity of their first thrust, there was again another clap as his lap slapped her seat.

An obscene strain, bright and profound – her agony hard and as clean as a new dime, steely and exact, and an impulsive attempt to twist free, arrested at her hips – and yet Maggie sounded only a husky grunt in acknowledgement of his colossal inhabitancy of her among those first furious fifty strokes – their lunging, colliding strides through her insubordination, George’s every crisp, flat spank of Maggie’s beautiful bottom a further punishing penetration deep up her delicious ass until her arms folded and she dropped her shoulders onto the sofa back, her will to even contribute to, let alone resist, her brother’s sodomy of her at last defeated.

“Ooow-uhaaah!” Maggie finally wailed, a sonorous, suffering, surrendering howl of protest and release and from the floor of her lungs. And with this collapse of her resolve and her mind and muscles slack with whole submissiveness, George halved the rate and redoubled the power of his pace up her backside from a gallop to a march, gloriously parading them both through their intercourse while the rainfall outside applauded their sin.