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Anonymous Lover Ch. 01

By: Hot_Sister



This story sets the scene for others I have written by introducing the main characters: David and Elizabeth Wilson and David's girlfriend, Susan. The three Chapters of this story contain explicit sex between brother and sister, so if you are offended by the idea of consensual incest then please don't continue....this story is not for you. All of the characters are entirely fictitious, and therefore bear no intended resemblance to any person living or dead. All are over the age of 18.

The story is written from David's perspective. 

***** 

It all started with a Halloween Party at Damien's house, when he decided to invite a number of friends over during his parent's absence. Damien is a friend of mine, usually pretty vague, but I must say that it was well planned. Neat little invitations went out several weeks beforehand, with a stipulation you were to wear a mask that hid your identity and to bring sufficient alcohol for at least two people. Costume parties do not normally interest me, but I decided to go anyway. I invested in a black and orange tiger mask that struck me as fierce and imposing at the same time, and was certainly sufficient to hide all of my features. Nobody could tell it was me, hiding underneath it. 

I don't recall much of the early part of the evening, other than my initial surprise to find that there were only a dozen or so people there, and more girls than guys. The music was loud and the rooms dark, and the punch was laced with something strong to make it work quickly. The night swiftly degenerated into a small sea of sweating and inter-twined bodies, initially preoccupied with writhing on the dance floor to the throb of music, and later on writhing in a more primeval occupation. 

I remember dancing with several girls, including two or three together at one stage, but as the night progressed I paired off with one who seemed intent on me. She was a little shorter than me and wore a blue mask designed like an eagle, the fierce expression complimented by the glitter of her eyes. It made it difficult to tell her age, yet alone who she was, but she had a trim body that certainly felt good and she knew how to move it. All I could see of her face was the sparkle of her eyes in the dim light and a soft sensuous pair of lips, with the occasional flash of small white teeth behind them. A wisp of auburn hair announced that she was a brunette, and the way she moved suggested she was ready for action. 

We didn't talk much. The music was too loud and it wasn't that sort of party, anyway. The air gap between us diminished quickly and soon we were body to body, rubbing against each other, hands roaming where we liked. I could smell her, a mixture of perfume tinged with warm flesh, hot and sensual. The music seemed to recede into the background and other people in the room to retreat, so there was just her and me, moving against each other. She pushed her breasts and pelvis forward, unashamedly sexual. I responded, kissing her neck and cheek, tasting the delicious warmth of her mouth, pushing against her so we were almost fucking on the dance floor. Her lips were soft but I sensed she was a tentative kisser, waiting to learn. 

I leaned close to her ear. "Are you ready?"

She stiffened for a moment in my arms, then nodded. I took her hand and led her through the hallway, up the stairs to the bedrooms. The first door was closed and I could hear activity behind it. The second bedroom was empty and I kicked the door shut behind us, propping a chair against the handle to prevent disturbance. 

The light was off, but a street lamp threw a band of light into the room. She stood back from the door, quite still, looking at me. I moved quickly to her, one hand holding her head as I kissed her and the other moving down over her breasts, feeling their shape and texture through the thin material of her dress. She pushed her pelvis forwards and I felt the hardness of her mound grinding against my rigid cock. 

I reached behind her head to remove the mask but she reacted violently, pulling back. 

"No!" Her voice was husky and urgent. 

"I need to see you!"

"No!" Just a single word, nothing more to say. She stepped back, hands fumbling at the zipper on her little black dress, opening it, stepping out. A whisper of dark material fell to the shadows on the floor. She kicked off her shoes and I realised she was much shorter than me, but her body was firm and beautifully proportioned. Her skin shone in the soft light like molten pewter, and I gazed at her breasts, not large but well defined, the nipples pushing against the lacy fabric of her bra. Her belly was flat, smooth flesh gliding downwards to a pair of small black panties that hugged a well-defined mound. 

For a moment we stared at each other, and then she moved forward, reaching up to kiss. I fumbled with my buttons, shirt finally falling free, belt coming loose. I kicked off my jeans, hopping awkwardly from one foot to the other, still kissing. Her hands were on my shoulders, her face locked to mine. We fell onto the bed with me partly on top and I slid aside one cup of her bra and suckled her, feeling the nipple swell in my mouth and her hands holding my hair to guide me. My cock was bursting, straining against my jocks and pushing against her thigh. 

She pushed me back and sat up, deftly removing the bra and tossing it to the floor. She leaned forward and lifted the elastic of my jocks so that my cock jumped out, freed from its constraint. For a moment she was still, looking down at it, and I could sense her uncertainty. Then she bent forward and took my shaft in her hand, squeezing it, looking intently at the long strand of pre-cum that was stringing from the bell end to my belly, glistening in the pale light like a spider's web. She crouched forward and her pink tongue tentatively licked at it, breaking the strand so that it clung to her lip for a moment before she sucked it in, pausing to savor the taste like a new experience. My cock strained upwards at her touch, and she engaged the tip of it against her lips and let it slide into her mouth. 

At first she was uncertain, not understanding the sensitivities. She moved in jerks instead of long smooth strokes, and her pressure and cadence were all wrong. I guided her, my voice soft in the semi-darkness, teaching and mentoring. She was silent, listening, a quick learner and willing. My cock ached as it fucked her mouth, the head swollen bigger than ever before as it stretched her young lips. I could feel the ridges at the back of her throat as it glided deep into her, and then the softer part of her mouth as she drew back, letting her lips grip the head, nuzzling and lubricating. I could feel the feather light rasp of her tongue on the sensitive underside, and the firmer clasp of her lips as she tightened them over the head before allowing my length to slide into her throat again. 

As she crouched over me, I moved my hand to cup one buttock, my fingers dipping forward into the dark shadow. I could sense the incredible heat of her and feel the slick wetness of her panties on my fingertips. I imagined the thin material stretched over her pussy, stained dark and wet with her discharge. I envisaged her juices oozing from her warm wet passage, thick and tart, trickling out through her labia, now swollen and fleshy with wanting. In the silence of the room I could hear her small grunts and whimpers of pleasure as my fingers rubbed against the sodden fabric of her pants and I could hear the occasional slurp of her mouth on me. I could smell her arousal: the warm scent of her cunt and the musk of a female in heat. 

I pulled her hips around and she lifted one thigh over me, straddling my face, pushing her torso back and down so that her crotch was positioned over my face. As her mouth slid down my cock I pressed my tongue upwards, pushing aside the thin gusset so that I tasted her for the first time. The light was not strong enough for me to see her sex, but I could feel the downy softness of pubic hair against my face and the firm plasticity of her thighs against my cheeks. I pressed my face upwards and in a moment her juices soaked my face, running in rivers across my tongue. 

My cock withdrew from her mouth with a soft plop, and rested on my belly. She pushed herself upright, thrusting her hips downwards so her cunt was rammed against my face. I lapped hungrily, hearing her soft moans and sighs, feeling the crisp softness of her pubic hair against my lips. My tongue was buried inside her, drilling upwards, her labia opening to allow me to penetrate her as deeply as I could, and she writhed and wriggled against me.

Her first orgasm came in a rush. I felt her thighs tense, gripping my face, and her back arched. She had one hand at the back of her head and the other was pressed against her mouth to stifle the squeal of pleasure that seemed to go on and on. I could feel her vagina sucking with hard rhythmic contractions against my face, pulling my tongue, and a flood of cum juice spurted into my mouth as if I had bitten down on a luscious piece of fresh fruit. For long moments she trembled in ecstasy, a thin high wail of pleasure breaking from her lips and her body writhing against my mouth, and then, gradually, she grew still and I could hear her ragged breath in the stillness of the room. I fancied I could feel the wild beating of her heart though the lustrous skin of her thighs clamped either side of my face. 

After a moment she lifted herself clear and the bed creaked as she lay next to me. We were both silent for a moment, and then she spoke, her voice still tremulous with the intensity of her orgasm. 

"Now, your turn. Fuck me. Fuck me all night."

"I will, I will." I whispered. 

I climbed over her and she opened her legs, drawing her knees upward to allow me unfettered access to her sex. I positioned the head of my cock at the opening to her body, and then with infinite slowness I pressed forward. The sensations of that first penetration filled my brain: smoothness and pressure and incredible heat. I envisaged the lips of her cunt twitching at the first touch of the velvet head, then parting as the first inch or so entered her body. I imagined the exchange of our fluids, her juices bubbling around my cock head, and my pre-cum smearing over her vulva as I penetrated her. I heard her sigh and felt the bedsprings move as she shifted slightly to accommodate me. 

I felt sudden pressure as the widest part of my cock-head demanded entry, then incredible tightness that stopped further progress, and I felt her go rigid under me. I stopped. She was panting a little, her hands fluttering at my back, her thighs drawn back and open as wide as she could. After a moment she lifted her legs over my back and I felt them lock together, and then she suddenly rolled her hips upwards, thrusting her pelvis sharply so that I broke through. I sank full length into the delicious heat of her tight body, and as my shaft impaled her, she cried out. 

"Oh! Oh! Stop for a moment!"

I held my hips still, savouring the cloying grasp of the young pussy in which I was embedded. Not one millimeter of my cock was outside - it was all in. 

For long moments we were both still, aside from the twitching of my cock inside her. I longed to withdraw and plunge, withdraw and plunge, to fuck this hot body beneath me, but somehow I held still. Presently she moved her hips, tentatively at first then with growing confidence as she adjusted to my length and width. I responded, drawing my cock out so that just the head was engaged, then pushing - a long delicious stroke into her, feeling her pelvis thrust back to accept me, so that I was completely buried, the root of my cock mashed against her mound. 

I don't know how long I fucked her...perhaps twenty or thirty minutes. I wanted more than anything to stay inside her all night, but my senses were swamped by her gasps, her low squeals of pleasure, the intensity of how she held me, and the incredible tightness of her cunt with its velvet walls and clutching, rhythmic movements. 

However much I wanted to continue, I knew I was lost. Deep inside me I felt my own pressure building, an unstoppable juggernaut that swirled upwards and outwards through my whole being like an explosion of colored light. In a single, white-hot moment where time stood still I released the first scalding jet of sperm into the young body wriggling beneath me. We cried out together as six or seven other jets followed, ribbons of sperm, rivers of it, filling the clutching cunt, splattering its walls with its heat, bathing her cervix and bursting outwards from where we joined, so that it was immediately churned to a white froth by the intensity of our movement. 

After a long time she released the grip of her legs and I felt the grip of her cunt relax as I softened inside her. I slid off her and we lay side by side, breathing ragged gasps, sweat cooling on our skin. My heart was beating like a drum. 

"God" She whispered. "God damn, that was...." 

"...incredible." I finished the sentence. 

She turned her face towards me, voice so soft that I could hardly hear the words. "I didn't know....I never knew it could be like that."

I reached over and touched her lips lightly with my fingertips, and I smoothed the wild tangle of her hair on the pillow. She lay still, watching me, her eyes shining behind the mask. 

"What's your name?' I asked her.

She shook her head lightly, her voice soft. "No. We can't do this again. No names, no faces." Her voice was filled with regret.

I didn't ask why. I knew nothing of this girl, who she was, her hopes and dreams or where or how she lived. In a moment of clarity I understood that part of the magic of the night had been not knowing - meeting another kindred soul who wanted only to share a night of passion but nothing more. Every detail I found out about her, I thought, would add a layer of complexity to the relationship, to seek to complicate what was very simple. I understood that she didn't want that, and I thought I was content not to want it either. 

I stroked her hair and by and by, we fell asleep. 

I thought I heard her crying during the night, and I felt the touch of her hand on my face, but then I sank back into sleep and, when I woke, she had left. She had covered me with a bedspread and every trace of her was gone, except for the fragrance of her hair on the pillow. The morning light had taken away the anonymity of the night, and I felt alone. I wondered how I could have let her go without finding out her name, or looking at her face. 

*****

The following Monday morning I sat at breakfast, munching cereal and flicking though a magazine I had found on the table. I had to leave for work in a few moments. 

My mother shouted from the kitchen, "David, bring the dishes in before you go, please."

"Yes Mum."

"...and is your room tidy?"

I rolled my eyes at my little sister sitting opposite me, blond hair in disarray and still sleepy. She'd been away at the weekend and looked as if she had had a good time, too. 

"Yes Mum."

"Is Beth there?"

"Yes Mum!"

My mother appeared with another bowl and a plate of toast. "Here you go, Beth." 

I looked at her. Dad had died a few years before of a heart attack at the age of forty two, leaving her with a meager living so she had to work. I wondered why she didn't find another guy. She was still attractive and kept herself trim. 

"Have to go, Mum," I said. She smiled and gave me a brief hug and a peck on the cheek. 

"What time are you home tonight?"

"Usual. I'll give you a ring if it changes. See ya, Beth!"

Beth grunted. She had pinched my magazine and was reading the agony column. I wondered why she didn't have a stream of boyfriends bashing at the front door as she was very attractive, even first thing in the morning. Like me, she was a bit of a loner, although I had just started dating a girl called Susan a week before. It was too early to tell if it would develop into anything, though. I was suddenly struck with a picture of my mysterious friend over the weekend, head thrown back, knuckles pressed to her mouth to suppress a scream of ecstasy. I couldn't envisage Susan in that position. 

I closed the door behind me and went to work. 

And so life went on for the next few days, much as it had before that weekend. The only difference was that I thought about HER a lot. The little mannerisms I noticed in our brief acquaintance: the way she held her head on one side, as if asking a question; her sense of stillness; the way she pressed her hand to her mouth to silence her pleasure. That was all I knew of her, other than she had brown hair, wore a little black dress and plain shoes, owned a blue eagle mask and gave me the most stunning sex I had ever had. Each time I thought of her, the sense of loss grew greater. How can you feel you've lost something that you really never had? How can you fall in love with a dream?

On the Thursday after the weekend I phoned the host of the party to thank him. 

"Damien....its David."

"Hi David. What gives?" He was always cheerful. 

"Not much, mate. Just calling to thank you for the amazing party."

"Amazing is right" he grumbled. "Looked like a fucking brothel next day....knickers and condoms all over the house, beds wrecked. Looks like someone deflowered a chick in the main bedroom....still trying to wash the sheets clean before the oldies come home." He chuckled. "Was a great party though, wasn't it!"

I thought of HER, thrusting her pelvis forward and crying out. Had I used the main bedroom?

"Er, yes" I said. How lame. "Well, anyway, thanks a lot..."

"You're welcome."

"...and I wondered if you could do me a favor."

"Maybe." A note of caution in his voice. 

I pressed on bravely. "I met a chick there I really liked." I said. "Could you give me a list of who you invited?"

There was a moment of silence, and then I listened to his reasons for not helping me. Confidentiality...the right to privacy. He asked me what she was wearing, what she looked like. 

"The blue eagle mask. Brunette, shortish. Black dress."

I could hear his mind working. "Nah. Don't know her.", he said. "Might have been a gate crasher. We had a couple. Sorry mate. Perhaps next time."

The dialing tone was loud in my ear as the only way I could think to find her rang out. 

*****

Friday evening, almost a week since the night. Beth and Mum were out somewhere, and I arrived home alone, thinking of her. I collected the mail at the front door, flicking through the usual collection of bills and junk mail. I had been hoping that somehow she had found out who I was, and there would be a little note asking if we could meet. There was little chance of that, I knew. The ache was there, bright and sharp in my gut. I longed to see her again, but part of me dreaded that if I did it would be a disappointment. She was a predator and she didn't need me. 

I thought of the jobs that Mum had given me to do. She worked hard and we helped out, and it was my turn to do the laundry. I collected the basket and went into my room, picking up the week's collection of dirty clothes; then to Mum's room, where they were all neatly kept in a basket in the corner. 

I moved down the corridor to Beth's room, scooting around, collecting socks, her work blouses, a couple of pairs of red knickers about the size of dental floss. Nothing else that I could see at first, but on impulse I bent to look under the bed and just behind the fold of the duvet I could see a bunched up scrap of black lace. It was a black bra and a pair of skimpy black knickers, and as I retrieved them I saw that they were concealing something else. Curious, I reached under the fold of material and pulled it out. 

The room seemed to tilt, and I could hear a roaring in my ears. 


Anonymous Lover Ch. 01



It was a blue mask, fashioned like an eagle, with a brunette wig tucked inside it. 

*****

(c) May 2010. Not to be reproduced without the express permission of the author. 

Author's note. If you liked this story (or even if you didn't), could you take a moment to provide comment? I can only improve with feedback, and I'd also welcome your ideas on where you would like to see David and Beth's relationship go....or would you prefer me to branch into a different storyline/genre? It will only take you a few seconds and I'd be most appreciative..... Thanks. H_S.



Anonymous Lover Ch. 02



Author's Note (v2). If you want to understand this story you really need to read Chapter 1 first, which is very short but sets the scene, so to speak. It continues the theme of incest, so if you are offended by the thought of brother-sister consensual sex, don't continue. All characters are fictitious, and all are over the age of 18. 

The story is told from David's perspective. 

*****

Beth came to me that night. 

I was awakened by the click of the latch and the soft swish of the door being pushed open. For a moment she stood in the doorway, poised for flight on those long legs like a frightened gazelle, with that particular stillness that I had observed so many times. The light from the hallway spilled into the room like warm honey, so her hair was suffused like a golden halo and the shape of her body was thrown into stark relief under the thin transparent material of her gown. She stepped forward quickly and the room sank back into relative darkness as she shut the door. I felt the mattress compress as she climbed onto the bed, and she shuffled forward to peer into my face. 

"Are you awake?" she whispered.

I sat up in alarm. "What are you doing here, Sis!! Mum will find out!"

"Shhh." I felt the soft touch of her fingers on my lips. "Mum is asleep. It's only us. I'm here for you."

I stared up at her. Strips of moonlight penetrated through the window blinds, throwing bars of bright silver across the bed, and I could see her, kneeling beside me with her legs folded in that graceful, double-jointed way that women have. I saw her arms move up, lifting the nightgown over her head and tossing it away with a whisper of fabric. The moonlight illuminated her right side, her skin shining like polished pewter and the breast in sharp relief, surprisingly large and with the nipple erect with desire. One side of her body was in darkness but I could see enough of her face to interpret her expression. 

Her hands cupped my face and she leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine, her mouth opening and her tongue thrusting forward. I grasped her torso to balance her as she shifted her weight, and my cock hardened involuntarily as my hands acknowledged the warm plasticity of her flesh. She moaned into my mouth, speaking soft urgent words between the kisses. 

"Ah, yes! Yes! I've wanted you David. God I've wanted you!"

My body was rigid. This wasn't the Beth I knew nor did her words reflect the relationship that we had all of our lives. Like a surfer who expected a five foot wave and suddenly found a Tsunami, I struggled to accept the enormity of the switch from kid sister to a desirable and available woman. A flood of conflicting emotions filled my mind. I knew that I had already fucked her but that had been an accident, with neither knowing the identity of the other. This was different, requiring a premeditated and deliberate crossing of the line. I would abandon family responsibility, and tear down social, legal and moral norms and I was lucid enough to understand that doing so would be to set me on a path where secrecy and shame would be my new companions. 

But, God help me, I am a normal red-blooded male, and the temptation was strong. Nothing about this warm body in front of me matched the blueprint of the kid sister I had grown up with. I had never really noticed the change from a skinny frame to a body stacked with all the right equipment - or perhaps I had, but had shut it out. Either way, there was no doubt about her physical credentials...she was hot and she knew it, and she was offering every delectable inch of herself for me to use as I wanted. 

She must have sensed my turmoil for she broke off and leaned back a little. Her eyes were dark pools in the moonlight and her voice was urgent. 

"Do it again to me, David. You enjoyed it last time didn't you! It was good, wasn't it? I need you to do it again!"

She moved her hand down to my groin, groping under the sheet and seizing my cock, squeezing it, sensing the heat of my arousal. "Ah, yes! Fuck me with this! Fuck me like the last time!"

The grasp of her hand around my sex was the final catalyst. Like the crumbling walls of a dam my resolve shattered, sweeping aside logic and sense, abandoning reason. It was still my sister kneeling naked in my bed, but she was there for me, ready to be taken - and I was ready to take her. My brain was filled by her perfume and the smell of her body. I was transfixed by her marvelous symmetry, the black and silver sheen of her skin, by her thrusting breasts and the pressure of her thigh against me. In the silence of that infinitesimal moment of change I fancied that I could hear the bubbling liquid heat of her sex, aroused and open, waiting for me, calling to me. 

I growled deep in my throat and sat up quickly, locking my lips against hers. One hand cupped her left breast, fingers dark against the silver whiteness, and the other held her at the small of her back, feeling her slender body arch up to receive me. Her nipple burned against my palm as I massaged it. She ripped aside the sheet and in a single movement straddled me, head bent back in raw pleasure as I kissed her neck and shoulders. She pushed me back against the pillows and spoke again, her mouth close to mine.

"Tell me you want me, David" 

My voice was hoarse with desire "Oh God, Beth! What are you doing to me?"

"Tell me!"

"Yes, oh yes! I want you. I want to have you. I need to fuck you, to fill you up."

She shifted her legs, opening them, and I felt her hand grasp my hardness and engage it against the swollen lips of her sex. She hunkered down, and I felt myself break through the soft gateway of her labia and then the furnace of her body as I slid into her. She moaned softly, her head thrown back as she felt me penetrate, as she struggled to adjust to my girth. She growled softly.

"Ahhh! That's it! That's good. Slowly, slowly. Fuck me. Fuck your sister's pussy."

"I will, I will."

"Fill me up. I want you to come into me and fill me up."

"I will. I'll fuck you and fill you up. I'll spray into you Beth". 

She leaned back a little and I felt her cunt contract, squeezing me. There was not enough light to see me entering her body, but I didn't need to. I imagined my thick shaft stretching open her vulva, the soft inner lips of her labia clasping at me, slick and wet, the wisps of her public hair glistening with our juices. I imagined the bulbous head of my cock penetrating upwards inside her body, stretching and invading far into her soft body. I thought it to be somewhere level with her navel as she crouched over me. 

And then I was fully in and we held that position, each savouring the moment. For me, the feeling of my cock fully encased in a firm young cunt, with its rhythmic clutching and the trickle of juices at its opening. For her, the feeling of fullness and pressure, the spasms as my cock twitched inside her, the stretch of the purple head buried in her body. 

She raised her body up, so slowly, and I felt the long slide out. I saw the moonlight glistening silver on my shaft as it appeared from the pool of dark shadow, until the bulging head was barely inside her, held only by the clutching labia. For a moment she held herself there, and then she sank back downwards. I groaned at the incredible warmth and pressure and wetness of penetration as her body swallowed me up again. We began to whisper to each other in the darkness as we fucked. 

"Jesus, Beth! God Jesus that's good! I'm fucking you, I'm really fucking you"

"Ah yes! Ah, I feel it. I feel you deep inside me. I'm milking you with my cunt."

"Say that you like your brother's cock."

"I love my brother's cock inside me. I love to fuck my brother. I'm a dirty sister and I love it. We'll fuck forever."

"Tell me I'm the first."

"You're the first. You're the only one."

She leaned back, supporting herself with her arms, so that her head was right back, hair shining in a band of moonlight like a mane of silver, mouth open and eyes tightly shut. Her breasts were thrust forward and I buried my face into them, grasping a nipple in my lips and worrying it so that it hardened even more in my mouth. The shift in our positions caused me to rub against the front of her pussy, and she reacted by moaning softly, moving her hips in a circular motion. Her first orgasm enveloped her swiftly - her body bent backwards like a bow, every muscle stretched taut and a thin wail breaking from her lips. I felt a flood of moisture spurt around my balls, dribbling down to soak the sheets. 

She stopped for a moment whilst her ragged breath slowed, and I could feel the muscular contractions of her vagina as the last of her orgasm passed. She resumed the circular motion, rotating her hips whilst thrusting forward and down with her pussy so that I was rhythmically swallowed and released. Her cunt made small slurping noises as it devoured me. There was light enough for me to see the sheen of sweat on her face, observe the soft curve of her lips and the small white teeth behind them. I flipped her sideways and rolled over her, my cock still embedded inside her. She raised her legs and locked them over the small of my back, and I pushed up on my arms so I could watch her face as we fucked. 

"I love you, Beth."

She opened her eyes, cornflower blue in the daylight but dark pools now. 

"I love you too. Fill me with your seed."

"I will. Inside you."

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes." 

Like a gathering storm I felt it building, like a stream of living magna escaping towards the light, rushing through the shaft of my cock until in a single frozen moment of time it burst out of me, splattering the walls of her sex. She cried out in triumph as she felt it, reaching down to grasp my buttocks and hold them tight against her so that I was buried into her as deep as possible. She milked me with strong rhythmic contractions of her cunt whilst I pumped ribbons of cum into her writhing body, and I heard the shriek of her own orgasm as it consumed her. 

As I stared down at her face she faded from underneath me, and I was alone in my dream. 

*****

I woke early, feeling jaded and with a nagging headache behind one eye. The sun was streaming into my room and I could hear Mum downstairs. I remembered it was Saturday and that she played tennis in the morning so she would be heading off soon. I lifted the sheet and looked down at my body - it looked decidedly unfucked. I considered the dream, remembering every detail, and my cock grew hard at the memory. I tugged at it, but there was no enthusiasm there and I left it alone and gathered my troubled thoughts. Twice now I had been though an intense sexual experience with my sister, real or perceived, but I had yet to resolve my feelings. I needed to think. 

I considered my discovery of the Eagle Mask, now pushed back under her bed exactly as I had found it. The shock of that discovery was still intense. The key question was whether she knew it was me that she had fucked...did she know I would be at that party? I racked my brains to figure whether she would have had any hint of who was going to it. She wasn't in the circle that Damian moved in and I doubted if he had invited her directly, and I didn't know of any mutual friends that they had. Try as I might, I could not remember discussing the party beforehand or giving any other hint of where it was. Her appearance there must therefore be a coincidence, in which case she didn't know I would be there as well. It was a chance meeting, I thought. 

She was normally a reserved girl, with only a few boyfriends that I had known about and none of them seemed to be serious. She wasn't inclined to wild parties, or staying out late or taking risks - yet she had dressed provocatively and set out to have sex with a stranger in a one night stand, with all the risks that that entailed. Her behaviour wasn't in character and I was angry with her... but I was aware that the sexual predator that night had been me, prepared to fuck anybody without thinking of the consequences. I shook my head as I remembered my sperm pumping into her, and the rhythmic contractions of her pelvis as she sucked it into her body. What if she were pregnant? What would we tell Mum? 

And what of the dream last night? It was as clear as if it had happened - the lustre of her skin and the pressure and tightness as I drove up into her, and her own sighs and spinning orgasm. Even the thought processes I had experienced were clear, especially the critical point where I had set aside any question of morals and accepted that I was going to willingly fuck my sister. 

Finally, I tried to figure out what I was going to do about it. Up to a week ago I had been content with my life but now I was racked in doubt as to what Beth meant to me, and my own complicity in what had happened. I knew that things had changed for me - but the chances were that they had not for her. She probably didn't even know that it was me who had fucked her, and who now agonized over how to resolve the situation. Where once I had once thought nothing about her, I now watched with eyes that would surely betray me if she looked into their depths. 

All this did nothing but hurt my head and so, after a while, I climbed wearily out of my bed and had a shower. 

*****

I was reading the paper and eating a bowl of cornflakes when she bounced into the kitchen, with a cheery smile and a good morning. That was unusual. 

"Mum gone?" she asked.

"Yep." I paused. "You're cheerful this morning."

"Mmmm. Had a good night last night, and a great day lined up for today." She sat down next to me and poured cereal into her bowl, splashing it liberally with milk. 

"And what was so good about last night?"

She stopped pouring and looked at me. She had been growing her hair and it was tied back into a little pony-tail that shone in the morning sun. Her eyes were a vivid blue and her skin glowed with health and vitality. She tipped her head a little to the side and regarded me for a moment, her lips slightly apart. My heart skipped a beat. She was beautiful. 

"Don't you remember? I told you that I was going out with the girls!"

The girls were her buddies Sam and Laura. "Ah, yes, I remember," I said. "Sorry, you did tell me. Where did you go?" 

She acknowledged with a nod and resumed pouring milk onto her Cornies. "Just hung around at Laura's place. She's got a hot brother". Her eyes flicked across to my face, just briefly. 

"He's only a kid!" 

"Not that young. Anyway, he's already taken. I didn't go there to see him, though. We just had fun hanging out together."

"Do you think anyone thinks I'm a hot brother?"

She stopped in astonishment, the spoon half way to her mouth. "That's a leading question! What caused that? Feeling unloved are we?"

I shrugged. "Just exploring perspectives."

She regarded me for a moment, as if taking a fresh assessment of my assets. "I guess so. None of my friends are interested, but there must be someone around who figures you're cute." She smiled and then added "Although their Guide Dog might not like you." 

"Thanks for the confidence booster."

"You're welcome. What's happening with Susan?"

Susan was a girl I had met at work. "Not much. Going out tonight, as it happens, but too early to tell."

Beth smiled again. "Be nice to her dog. Sounds like you need serious sex." 

We were quiet for a moment, sunk in our own thoughts. I sought to resurrect the conversation. 

"I didn't hear you come home."

"Nah" she mumbled, cramming a spoon of cereal into her mouth. "Although it wasn't late. I was back about midnight." She looked at me again, her eyes crinkling. "You were snoring your head off!"

I had no idea of the timeframe of my dream but that could have been the moment I was buried deep in her pussy, metaphorically speaking. More like grunts of lust than snoring. 

"I don't snore! Besides, you wouldn't hear it through the door."

She laughed. "I could, it was like a chain saw. Right through the door and the walls."

She lost interest in the conversation and pulled a magazine over to read it. I used the opportunity to look at her face, but after a moment she became aware of my scrutiny and glanced up at me. 

"What?" 

She had a drop of milk on her chin. Without thinking I reached over and she tilted her face up to meet my touch. I rubbed my thumb over it, sliding up over her bottom lip, leaving my hand lingering there. For a moment her eyes were vulnerable and she sat still, her little face tilted up towards me and her expression soft. Then she pulled her face back sharply and I could see confusion and then anger in her eyes. 

"What are you doing?!" 

I shrugged, my heart beating fast. "You had milk on your face."

She stared at me, a faint blush staining her cheeks. Her voice turned hard. "Thanks" she said, "but keep your Goddamn hands to yourself."

I sighed. Her eyes, when they looked at me, were like chips of ice. At least I had confirmed what her side of the relationship was.

****

Susan was about as different from Beth as two girls could be. Where Beth's hair was the colour of pale wheat, Susan's was black, cut into a Cleopatra bob that delicately framed an oval face of pale, almost translucent skin. Her eyes were her best feature, large and toffee brown, inclined to laughter, I thought. She had a good mouth with soft lips that turned up at the edges, reinforcing the impression of good humour, and even white teeth. Whilst not a classic beauty - her face was too long and marred by a slightly crooked nose for that - she was attractive and, in this our first date, had shown herself to be very good company. 

We were sitting in a small Italian restaurant. She had chosen a Polenta with Porcini that the florid waiter had delivered with a flourish that I thought disproportionate to the lumpy mound of mushrooms on her plate. I had chosen a Beef Braciole that was good but not great. I thought she was a vegetarian and I hoped she would excuse me for being a carnivore, but we were both enjoying a full bodied Chianti. She was talking about a colleague at work, her voice animated. 

"And then he asked me out!" she rolled her eyes to highlight the undesirability of this, and she stabbed at the air with her fork. "So we went to the movies and he insisted on sitting in the back row, as if I was going to do anything with him...' she emphasizied the last word, "...and he kept putting his hand on my knee and I kept removing it."

I made a mental note not to put my hand on her knee unless invited.

"...and I kept pushing it off. Anyway.." the fork swayed about. "..he got the hump and sat there, and next thing I know he's picking his nose and mumbling to himself!"

"Unbelievable!" I murmured. "What did you do?"

"I waited until his finger was jammed into his nostril and then nudged his arm sharply. His finger went in up to the second knuckle and had a massive nose bleed and had to leave". She laughed, a good honest laugh that lit up her face. "The rest of the movie was much better without him." 

I smiled. Her humour was infectious. 

"Tell me about yourself, David. What do you do for pleasure?"

I had a powerful vision of Beth, her head thrown back and her face distorted with lust as I spurted into her. Telling Susan that I fucked my sister for pleasure was probably not what she wanted to hear.

"Music, Cars, Movies, Candlelit dinners, Holidays."

"Wow!' she was impressed. "Most blokes can only think of one." She regarded me for a moment. "Which one do you like the most?"

I smiled at her. "At the moment, candlelit dinner. You're great company, Susan."

She blushed a bit. "I chatter too much". She was silent for a moment, and then, as if the strain of that moment of abstention was too much, she launched into a story about the last candlelit dinner she had had, when her date fell asleep into his plate.




Anonymous Lover Ch. 02



I laughed. "I promise I won't do that."

"I didn't think you would".

And so we chatted and the evening passed by, and when I dropped her off at her home she leaned up to me and kissed me lightly on the lips, lingering long enough for me to know there was promise of more, but short enough to be chaste on our first date. 

"Thank you, David. That was a lovely night and I'd like to do it again some time, if you would."

A flash of stockinged thigh as she climbed out of my car, and her smile as she leaned down to wave at me through the window. I drove home with the scent of her perfume in my nostrils and the memory of her lips on my mouth. This really wasn't going to help my situation, or was it? 

Breakfast the next morning. Beth in a summer frock, the blue trim setting off her eyes and the white a snowy contrast to her long golden legs. 

"So how was Sulky Susan then?"

She'd never met Susan, but I let the barb pass. "Good fun, thank you Beth. We had a good night".

"Did you fuck her?"

This wasn't language that Beth normally used and I wondered what was going on. She stared up at me, defiantly. This was time to stop it. I leaned towards her.

"It's a pity that when God gave you your good looks, health and intelligence, he didn't see fit to give you any manners."

She sat back, a small smile curling her lips and an expression of triumph on her face. I walked from the room, leaving her there. I didn't want her to see the hurt in my eyes.

***** 

Despite her attitude, or perhaps because of it, the next few weeks were purgatory. Susan had moved away for the summer vacation so the relationship was on hold, and Beth was there when I came home from work. She had not mentioned our last exchange, but our conversations were stilted. In our old life I wouldn't have cared, but I was obsessed with her. I found myself stealing glances when she wasn't looking, and my appetite suffered. Each waking moment was filled with her face, and at night I tossed and turned with desire before relieving myself into a handful of tissues - but it did nothing to fix the frustration. I was in lust, and I was filled with self-loathing - not only because I was lusting after my kid sister but because she treated me like shit, and I took it. I was drawn to her like a moth to a bright flame, fluttering endlessly in circles and destined only for immolation. I could not keep away from her, even though I knew that she was the one striking the matches. 

One night she was curled on the sofa watching television and I moved silently into the room behind her. Her small neat head was slightly tilted as she looked at the screen, and her neck was exposed. She had pinned her pony tail back, and there were small whorls of fine blond hair at the nape of her neck, and I had an almost overwhelming desire to press my lips to them and smell the warm puppy odour of her skin and the clean sharp aroma of her hair. Through a gap in her blouse I could see one cup of a lacy white bra, and the swell of her breast filling it. I imagined her nipples, almost tasting their rubbery texture on my lips, and my cock stirred in my pants. I stood there for a minute or two, feeling the blood of arousal coursing through my veins. She had that effect. Then without turning around she suddenly spoke, her voice sharp.

"Are you going to stand there all night purving at me, or are you going to sit down?"

She had been watching my reflection in the glass of the TV screen. I left the room silently, like a peeping tom, the pain of longing sharp in my guts.

Over that time I became aware of a sexual overtone to her behaviour to me, but it was taunting rather than invitational. Some I might have imagined, like the way that she left her knickers for me to pick up on my laundry rounds. Before, they were scraps of lace scrunched into balls and tossed wherever they landed. Now I found them stretched out, the crutch invariably exposed, heavily stained with her juices. Once I found a Men's magazine left on the table where she knew I would find it, one page earmarked so that it would fall open. It was a story, complete with graphic photographs, of a brother and sister living together and how he lusted after her. 

She took to walking around the house in loose tops and tight shorts, or, when Mum wasn't around, in a skimpy vest and knickers that showed her thrusting nipples and the swell of her mound. She flaunted her considerable assets and then, like a kid pulling the wings off a fly, she would dismantle my clumsy attempts to get close to her. I learned in those weeks she had a sharp mind and a sharp tongue, and she used them both on me. 

Things were no better the following Saturday. The previous night I had dreamed of her again, together in a shady place by a river I didn't recognise. We were alone and she had pulled down my jeans and was bent over me, her lips stretched over the purple swollen head of my cock, her head bobbing gently up and down. She was keeling, facing my feet and the short dress she was wearing had ridden up so I could see a pair of small white panties and the press of her pussy against them. I pulled them aside and she shifted her legs apart a little to afford a view of her cunt, streaming wet, and the tight crinkled opening of her anus like a small, neat freckle set between the perfect globes of her ass. I reached up and, dipping my finger in her pussy, transferred her juices to her puckered opening, smearing it gently and applying a little pressure. Her sphincter opened and I perceived the pink flesh of her rectum as my finger entered it to the first knuckle, tight and cloying. She jolted at my touch, and the extra movement tripped me over the edge so that I spurted massively into her mouth. She swallowed hungrily and then turned towards me, her creamy lips smiling before her image faded away. Like every morning now, I woke up jaded and tired.

Mum was out playing tennis and Beth had been called into work, as the normal girl had not turned up. I knew that I was part of some sort of game, but I could not figure out what it was, or why. It was time I went on the front foot, so I walked down the corridor to her bedroom. I could hear the clock ticking in the hall like a metronome, and the house was silent. 

Her room was the usual jumble, bedclothes thrown back, clothes and other bric-a-brac over the floor. On impulse I looked under the bed, but the Eagle Mask had gone. I moved to the bedside table and opened the drawers, shuffling through the contents - tissues, make up, trashy paperbacks. Nothing of interest there. I moved to the small bathroom, surprisingly clean and tidy, and opened the cabinet. Another collection of creams and cosmetics, cotton buds, sanitary pads. To one side was a box of prescription drugs and I pulled it out, looking at the label: 'Ortho Tri-Cyclen Lo'. I opened it and noticed that half of the pills had been used, each pill stored in a little pocket marked with the days of the week. Friday's had gone, but Saturday's was still there. So she was on the pill, and right up to date. I wondered how long she had been taking them and who she was fucking now. 

The desk in the corner of her room was also surprisingly tidy. The computer was turned on, but when I moved the mouse it demanded a password. 

The top drawer contained a rummage of bits and pieces, but my eyes fell on a small notebook with a pencil stowed in its spine. I drew it out, noting its position carefully so I could return it undisturbed. It was a diary, but many days were blank whilst others only contained terse notes in Beth's small, neat hand. I turned quickly to the date of the Halloween party, but she had written nothing on that date. As I flicked through the pages I noticed a column of writing inside the front cover, mostly crossed out but the bottom one was fresh. 

I had no idea what that the words meant, but I knew a password list when I saw one and I set the book down and carefully typed in the final characters in the list on her keyboard. The screen in front of me opened to her desktop. I clicked on Safari and the standard Google page appeared, allowing me to scan through her Search History, but it showed nothing unusual - Facebook, Hotmail, Clothes Mail Order sites and so on. No porn, I noted. 

A quick scan of the folders and I clicked on a file called 'Journal'. I hit paydirt. 

Beth's journal was a diary - a loose collection of thoughts she had written down in a Word document, with a date denoting each time she had added to the file. Some entries were very brief, a few lines about a party she had been to, or something that she thought worth capturing; others were quite long entries running to half a page or more. There were seldom days in sequence: mostly there were sporadic gaps between them. I scrolled quickly to October, searching out to see if there was an entry for Halloween. There was, and it was long. My heart was beating fast as I settled back in her chair and read the entry:

'31 October 2009

Halloween! D. had an invitation to a party and I decided this was my chance. Laura knew the guy who threw it so Sam and me tagged along. He didn't mind as we all looked hot. Important that D didn't know its me so bought awesome disguise - Eagle mask so I looked like a hot chick! Turned up early so that I could see him when he arrives, he was wearing a Tiger face, but it was obvious who he was but looks hot, though. L wants to fuck him she's not his sister so that rules her out. He hadn't a clue it was me, just wanted to get his end away and he doesn't think of me like that. Fucked him in the spare room, not bad. 

Laura and Sam both got rooted too. Sam is the only one left who hasn't done it yet so I reckon she's lost the bet....' 

There was more but I had seen enough to turn my world upside down again. It felt as if the words I had read had burned an indelible image onto my retina. She knew it was me. She had deliberately set out to fuck me as part of some bizarre game that she and her two friends had devised, and there was no doubt in my mind what that game was. The words were damning: '...Sam got rooted too but is the only one left who hasn't done it yet.' The 'game' was incest - a two bit bet amongst a group of cheap sluts that each of them could fuck their brothers for fun, and then boast about it. Laura had a brother and Beth had described him as 'hot'. I had no doubt that Laura could entice him into her bed whenever she wanted. Beth had a brother too, and she had done the same to me. 

For a long time I sat there, with ashes in my heart. Presently I stirred, closed the file, enacted the screensaver and carefully placed the small diary back in the top drawer. I walked to the door and surveyed the room with a critical eye, satisfied that nothing I had done or touched would be evident. I closed the door softly behind me, and walked heavily back to my room.

Just about the only positive in this whole twisted affair was that Beth didn't know that I knew she had been the anonymous lover. It was time to teach her a lesson she would never forget. 

*****

(c) May 2010. Not to be reproduced without the express permission of the author. 

Author's note. If you liked this story (or even if you didn't), could you take a moment to provide comment? I can only improve with feedback - it will only take you a few seconds and I'd be most appreciative.....

Thanks. H_S.



Anonymous Lover Ch. 03



If you read what learned men have said about anger you will find a common thread: an urge for moderation. Mark Twain considered it to be an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it was poured. Albert Einstein observed that anger dwells only in the bosom of fools; whilst Colin Powell, whose very job was to deal in lethal force, advised 'Get Mad, then get over it.' 

For me, anger was an eager friend. I embraced and nurtured it, for in its cleansing flame I found relief. It scoured my brain of notions of honour and my heart of the love that I thought had filled it. During the day I held it close, feeding it the chaff and straw of my sister's lies, until the flame shimmered and danced and reached out to warm the sinews of my body; and at night it was a beacon that showed me the way ahead, and I took comfort in its lonely light.

Initially my anger was a blunt weapon. I wanted to lash out, to destroy and obliterate anyone associated with the whole sorry affair - but as time passed I learned to control it, forging it in the anvil of my mind until it became like the burnished blade of a scalpel. I held it close to my heart and its image was sharp and clean and good.

I tried to maintain a balance. Time and again I dissected the events that led to the current point, and I analysed my role as dispassionately as I could. I was aware that some people would condemn me as a complicit partner: after all, it was I who had fucked her - but I had done so without premeditation and in innocence of knowing it was my sister, whilst she had not. I could forgive her in a heartbeat if she had seduced me for love; I could even forgive her if it had been for spontaneous lust, consummated and then regretted; but I could never forgive her for taking me simply to win a two-bit bet, and then to cast me aside with no more feeling than she might tread on a cockroach in the street. 

The cold logic of my reasoning fuelled my anger even more, so that it snarled and growled like an animal in a cage waiting to be released. 

And all the time I was watching and waiting for the right opportunity to unleash it. 

*****

Beth wandered into the kitchen on a Saturday morning a couple of weeks later, whilst I was eating my breakfast. She was wearing a loose tank top and a little pair of white knickers and she was rubbing the sleep from her eyes. 

"Morning Sis." I needed to maintain a degree of normality with Beth, for although I had not yet settled on a plan of action I knew that when the time came its success might depend on her thinking that all was well between us. 

She turned her blue eyes onto me, yawning, and settled into the chair opposite without saying anything. I waited a few moments before speaking again. 

"I'm moving out of home."

"What?!"

I turned over a page of the paper, not looking at her. "I'm moving out of home. Jim Bowers has offered me his flat whilst he is overseas and I've decided to take it."

"Oh, so it's not for long then."

"Maybe. He's backpacking Europe so I reckon six months at the least, and knowing Jim he'll find some rich chick in Monaco and end up staying there." I looked up at her. "Anyway, it's time I moved out - I can't live with Mum for the rest of my life." 

Her lips assumed the well-known Beth pout. "What about me?"

I considered that that should be her motto, but kept the thought to myself. "What about you?"

She leaned forward so that I was treated to a view of most of her breasts, the nipples barely hidden by the neckline of her top. "That's what I said. You can't leave me here with Mum!"

"Why not? She's a good Mother." 

"That's not what I meant. It's just that...well, it isn't fair for you to be heading off and I'll be left here to have all the work and no fun."

"There will be less work to do with me gone."

"No there won't. The house will be just the same size."

"Well, you move out too."

She misunderstood me. "You mean with you? Where's the flat?"

"No, I didn't mean that. I think it will do us both good to be apart and having you living in the flat with me won't achieve that. "

Her voice turned hard. "What the hell sort of statement is that! Are you saying its my fault you have to go? Is that why you're leaving?" Her eyes narrowed with malice "...or is it that you've moving slutty Susan in with you?"

I sighed. "Beth, I don't want to fight with you but you've just demonstrated why it wouldn't work. Do you know how many conversations we've had this year where you didn't get pissed off? Not one!" I leaned towards her. "There's no fun in our relationship any more. I don't know what I've done, or why you are so angry with me, but believe it or not I'm leaving because I'm twenty two years old and I want a life of my own, and...."

I was about to tell her that I couldn't spend another day in the same house as her, with her malicious eyes and sharp mouth, but an idea popped into my mind and I stopped abruptly. Not a plan yet, but just the first notions of how it might start to come together. 

She was staring at me, her small face still angry. "And what?"

"I was going to say that I'd be happy to have you visit from time to time, if you like." 

I could see her mind working on this new angle, figuring out what was in it for her. "Like, visit, as if for afternoon tea?"

"No - visit as in stay over for a night or two from time to time, if you want. There's a spare room and its close to your work." 

"Oh. OK." Grudgingly. Not even the common courtesy of a thankyou. "When are you moving?" I could see her working on something already. 

"Tomorrow." 

*****

Slowly, slowly, I set down the foundations of my plan, and when I was satisfied with it I started to lay the bricks and mortar that would give it form and shape. 

I started with the file that I had found on her computer, copying it to a thumb drive and then to my own computer so I could dissect it at my leisure. It made interesting reading: a journal of a double life that neither Mum nor I could possibly have guessed at. Each night, as I worked though it, more brush strokes were added to the picture that I was building of her life, and they were crude and rough and uneven. What we had taken to be a happy, carefree girl was far from that - shrouded in self-doubt, envious of others and uncertain of where she was going. She clung to the flotsam of her life which, in her case, were her two bosom buddies Lorna and Sam, and they dripped poison into her life until she turned to the bitter little rube that she was. 

I knew these girls and I had written them off as frivolous bubble-heads, who knew the value of nothing and whose sole aim in life seemed to be to have a good time. Individually, they were like the thousand girls you would see on the sidewalks outside bars and clubs on a Saturday night, wobbling on high heels, nervously pulling down the hems of their short skirts, cigarettes dangling from their crimson lips as they surveyed the passing crowd with minds devoid of intelligent thought and eyes older than the faces that owned them. Lorna and Sam were a nothing but a couple of tarts who were on the hustling treadmill of an easy life, and they had sucked Beth into their lives and she was running alongside of them. 

I dissected the thought processes that lay behind each of the sorry pages in her journal. In truth she really didn't give a fat rat's dick about anyone except her. She was seeped in selfishness - a self-serving spiral of contempt for anyone or anything that wasn't to her purpose. Most of us have some sort of balance in life, but Beth did not. It was the root cause of her problem, and it was the one I needed to tackle. 

And as my plan took shape I started to buy the things I needed from a variety of stores: the local Mitre10 yielded the hardware I needed; a down-town sex shop supplied the more exotic requirements and a department store furnished the bedding. I also needed some simple electronic gadgets and the Tandy store in the Mall were able to assist. Finally, I consulted a trusted friend at my Pharmaceutical workplace without telling him why I needed the advice, and he proved very helpful. 

My growing collection went into the third bedroom room of my flat which, unlike the rest of the place, was unfurnished apart from some boxes of Jim's junk. It was surprisingly large though, with a stained carpet, and hot water radiator on one wall and a single grimy window set high up on another. I put a small desk in the corner opposite from the radiator and I set up my computer on it with an anglepoise lamp. I went through the arrangements in my mind and I knew that I would be ready soon. 

A week or so after I moved into the flat the phone rang.

"Hi David. It's Susan."

"Hey!" I was surprised at the sudden lift that the sound of her voice gave me. "You're back!"

"Yep. Got back on Sunday."

"How was it?"

"OK, I guess. You can only take so much sand and sea, and the oldies were there - sort of cramps your style, I guess." She paused for a moment, as if checking to see if her words might have given the wrong impression. "Well, you know what I mean...you have to watch yourself when they are around. Still, I've got a tan in places that you can only imagine."

"Imagine, or dream about?"

She chuckled. "Dream, I guess. Dreams are achievable if you follow them through, but imagination is only ever conceptual."

"I'll dream about it then. I rather think it will keep me awake, though."

"So don't sleep," she said. Haven't you got anything better to do?"

"Not right now, but I'm hoping." 

" My, my. A man who is hoping and dreaming. Sounds like you're desperate."

"I am, I am."

She was quiet for a moment, to let that part of the conversation drift away. "Anyway, I wondered if you were up for another candlelit dinner, seeing as they are on your list. I could tell you all about my holiday."

"And all about your tan?"

"Maybe. Depends if you are good or bad. We'll need somewhere quiet, though, and I'm thinking that there's a new place on President Avenue that's supposed to be OK"

I thought quickly. I knew it. It was only a five minute walk from my new digs. "OK. I'll make a deal. Main meal in the restaurant, coffee and dessert at my place."

"Your place?" She thought I still lived with my Mum. 

"Yeah. I've branched out since you left. New flat - well, new for me, anyway. Not much to write home about, but clean and handy. I'll try out my Crème Brule on you."

"It seems you are a man of many talents, David."

"Only where they count. Is that a deal?"

"Are you trying to lure me back to your den of inequity? That's bad behaviour."

"I thought that's what you wanted. How can you show me your all-over tan otherwise?"

She laughed. "I said I'll tell you about it, not show you. How about Friday?"

"Done deal. I'll make the booking and I'll pick you up at seven." 

She looked good, wearing a simple white strapless dress that showed off her golden-brown skin. There was a single strand of pearls around her neck and her hair had been brushed until it shone blue-black in the evening sun. I walked around the car to open the door for her and she leaned up to kiss me on the lips, lingering there for a moment, her hand on my waist and her perfume filling my senses. I climbed in and started the engine. 

"I've changed the booking," I said. "We are celebrating more than a Bistro can offer us."

She looked across at me, her brown eyes shining. "Oh? Celebrating what?"

"Take your pick. Your coming back. Our second date without a single argument. Your all-inclusive tan. Being special...."

"The second date bit sounds good. Where are we going?"

"Surprise." 

I had been out to the restaurant the previous day and picked the table I wanted, in a secluded corner of the verandah with a view over the ocean. The blue Orchid I had chosen for her looked good on the crisp white tablecloth, and a bottle of Marlborough Region white wine was chilling beside our table. She settled into her seat and looked around. 

"David," she whispered "this is lovely. It looks terribly expensive."

"The owner is in debt to me. I saved his sister from certain death in a plane crash."

She smiled. "No, really. Are you sure it's OK?"

"Sure I'm sure. This is a place that you can only enjoy if you share it with someone. I'm glad its you. " I reached over and squeezed her hand. 

She regarded me for a moment. "You are really quite a nice person, despite what they say at work."

"What do they say at work?"

"That you are fat, lazy, sleazy, untrustworthy and unreliable. Apart from that, not much."

"I guess that's just what my friends say. What about the others?"

She laughed. "You don't want to know. It's about your fetish for tan-searching." 

"It's probably all true then." I waited until the waiter filled our glasses. "Cheers. To friendship." We clinked glasses and settled down to our meal. 

We never did get to the Crème Brulee, or the coffee and chocolates I had laid out on a tray in the kitchen. We were as hot as a pistols when we left the restaurant, and the twenty minute drive was enough to ferment our desire to fever pitch. We almost sprinted from the car to the bedroom, leaving a trail of discarded clothing from the front door onwards. The doona was flung into a corner of the room and she lay on her back on the bed, her skin dark against the white sheets, looking up at me. Her breasts were firm and she had a neat patch of black hair at her crotch, trimmed into an inverse triangle like an arrow head pointing to the prize. She shifted slightly under my gaze, one thigh moving sideways so I was rewarded by a glimpse of her puss, shielded by shadow. Struck by the eroticism of her pose, I stood watching her for a moment. 

She propped herself up on one arm, taking off a gangster accent. "What are you looking at, Buster?"

I smiled. "You know me. I'm bad. It's the tan fetish." I let my eyes move over her, slowly, from head to foot. "It's all over, just like you said. Is it real or can I lick it off?"

"It's worth a try." She chuckled, a sexy, throaty sound. "No more dreaming, then. Come and taste it for yourself. Come and be bad on me."

I sat beside her, leaning over her body so that I could reach her mouth. One breast pressed against the underside of my arm and the nipple burned my skin like the touch of a cigarette. Her mouth tasted of wine and spices, her lips as soft as gossamer. She groaned under me as my tongue entered her mouth, her back arching and her free hand reaching up to the back of my head, holding me as we kissed. 

I broke off. "Hold still." 

I knelt over her, my lips moving downwards, kissing the soft skin just below her ear, my nose touching her hair that was spread over the pillow like a band of black satin; then moving down to her shoulder and into the soft hollow just above her clavicle, feeling her thrust her body up against my lips. She groaned, her voice soft. 

"Jesus, that's good. Don't stop."

Down to her right breast, feeling the firm swell of her flesh rise up under my lips, the texture of her nipple in my mouth, my fingers caressing the other breast; then down, leaving a faint trail of moisture across the smooth flat belly, dipping briefly into her navel so that she giggled and pushed my head downwards to her mound, the feel of her hair crisp against my lips and the first scent of her puss - a warm, animal smell of arousal and desire. She opened her thighs, legs bent at the knees, and I leaned down, avoiding her clit for the moment, looking to taste and tease the lips of her cunt, sliding the tip of my tongue over them as soft as a sleeping breath, savouring the taste of her. 

She writhed under me, thrusting her hips upwards so that my tongue slipped into her, pushing aside her labia. I felt a gush of moisture into my mouth as she opened, felt it tart against my palate. I stabbed downwards with my mouth, curling my tongue into a cylinder, penetrating the soft flesh. My senses were filled by her: the warm plasticity of her thighs against my cheeks, the mewing sounds of her pleasure, the feel of her hands fluttering at the back of my head, and her taste and smell. 

I stood up quickly, rolling her over so that she was kneeling on the edge of the bed, her head and chest flat against the mattress and her butt pushed up and back. I placed my hands on her tight ass cheeks and pried them apart. Her puss opened like an exotic flower and I knelt on the floor and pressed my mouth to it, drinking her in, running the flat of my tongue in long, lapping strokes from her clitoris to the puckered ring of her anus, savouring her texture: from the slick softness of her cunt to the crinkled roughness of her rosebud. I could hear her cries of pleasure, feel her jerking and trembling as I worked at her, feel her puss fluttering and grasping as if to catch my lips and suck them into her body; hard, rhythmic contractions that accelerated swiftly, until, with a wail that just about shattered the windows, she came, bucking against me. 

A jet of juice spurted out of her, squirting between my lips so that my mouth was filled with her essence, and as I lapped at her it dribbled out of my mouth and soaked my chin. 

"Enough. Oh God, David. Enough. Stop." her voice was gusty with desire. 

I pulled back and stood up. She was still on her knees, legs akimbo, her face pressed sideways onto the bed and her hands clenched, clutching at the sheet beneath her. The light from the bedside lamp illuminated her, so that I could see the sheen of sweat on her back and the darker stains of her juices sprinkled like raindrops on the sheet between her knees. 

With a cry of desire I moved forward and pressed my cock against her opening, feeling her push back against me. As I watched, her cunt opened and I sank into her, her lips clutching at my shaft as I slid inwards. She was incredibly tight.

She groaned as she felt me. "God, David. Slowly. Take it slowly. Let me adjust'.

I realised that her cunt was still contracting with the power of her orgasm, and I stopped, feeling the rhythmic grasping as she accommodated me into her body, gradually diminishing as her insides adjusted to my size. In a little while she pushed back to take more, and I slid into her to the hilt, feeling the head of my cock squeezed deep inside her body. Not one millimetre of my shaft was visible. She had it all. Her hard little buttocks pushed against me and I could feel the crisp springiness of her pubic hair meshing with mine. 

"Now, fuck me. Start slow. "

"I will, Susan. I'm deep inside you. Can you feel me? Tell me what you feel."

"Full. I feel full. Pull out...slowly." She clenched her puss as I did, so that it grasped at my length as I slid outwards, fighting to keep me in. As the head appeared I stopped. 

She was gasping. "Now in. Just a little." I felt her fingers at her puss, feeling me as I entered her again and stopped, just the head buried inside her. Her fingers squeezed at my shaft. 

"Slowly. Slowly. God that's good! That's thick." She pushed up on her arms, her head back so that her hair fell over her shoulders. I reached forward and grasped a handful, pulling her head back with it as I slid further into her. 

"Ah yes. Yes! Now faster."

I looked over at the wardrobe in front of us. The door had swung open and we were reflected in the full length mirror. Susan on her hands and knees, watching me, her breasts bouncing each time I plunged into her, her head back, her mouth working. 

"Ah, that's it! That's good! Fuck it deep! Spurt into me! Cream me!" Her fingers were busy at her clit.

My own voice, shaky with lust. "I will! I'll fill you up with my hot cream."

A roaring in my ears. Every fibre of my being was harnessed to the sole purpose of impregnating her. The tumultuous climb upwards, the moment of time frozen on the brink, trembling on the edge of an endless precipice when all is disconnected from your brain apart from the single burning rod buried deep inside her: and then the crashing wave of orgasm, the boiling jets of spunk spurting like long white ribbons, one after another, filling her grasping cunt and bathing her cervix as she shrieked and writhed underneath me, lost in her own climax. 




Anonymous Lover Ch. 03



We collapsed on the bed and lay together for a long time afterwards, not speaking. Then she stirred, her fingers gently smoothing my hair back from my forehead, turning toward me so that we could see each other. 

Her eyes crinkled. "I suppose it is not a good time to tell you that I'm really a guy."

I reached down and ran my index finger over her sodden slit. "Good surgery. Anyway, I meant to tell you on our first date that I'm really into guys." 

She laughed, a throaty, sexy chuckle. "That's no problem then." She stretched out languorously, her breasts riding up so that the nipples were vertical and I could see the outline of her ribs through the satin skin. "Fuck, that was good!"

"It sure was." 

My heart was an empty vessel in my chest. I could never tell her that at the moment of my release it was Beth's slim form that I envisaged under me, her pony tail thrashing from side to side as she welcomed her brother's cock deep into her hungry young body. 

*****

I saw a lot of Susan over the next few weeks. She didn't actually move in, but I gave her a key and she stayed over most weekends and the occasional weekday as well. We got on well: it wasn't just a physical attraction, but a shared interest in things. She was an easy conversationalist and our sense of humour was very similar. The sex was dynamite.

One Sunday we were lying in bed, bedclothes in disarray and sweat drying on our skins. I was on my back, looking up at a little rainbow of colour that the morning sun had thrown there as it was refracted though the window. She was on her side, one thigh resting over my lower body and her head on my chest. I could smell the sharp freshness of her hair. She spoke, her voice soft. 

"David, who is Beth?"

"My sister."

"How come you've never mentioned her?"

I did a quick mental audit of all of the conversations we had ever had. It was true. I had never once mentioned Beth to Susan. I wondered what had triggered the question, and how she knew about her.

"Not much to mention, really. We don't get on very well."

She lifted her head and turned to face me. "You were talking in your sleep last night."

"Really? What did I say?" 

"Quite a lot." Her head sank back onto my chest. "You were with Beth and were angry, I think. Shouting at her, telling her that she was a slut. Then you calmed down mumbled for a while, and then...."

The silence drew out. 

"Then what?"

"You started talking to her....about being inside her, fucking her. How she was tight and good and you loved her." She pushed herself up so that she could see my face, and her eyes were liquid pools swimming in her face. "It was full-on. I tried to wake you but you wouldn't. It was like you were there with her." She paused for a moment, regarding me. "You were very intense and I wasn't with you. I felt like... a voyeur."

I forced a smile to my lips. "Wow! That's kinky. Did I enjoy it?"

"You seemed to be."

"Did I come?"

"Yes. No. It's not funny. You were crying out. It's almost as if it were real to you." She sank back down and her voice was muffled as she spoke again. "I know it was a dream, but it made me feel bad."

I touched her hair softly. "That's all it was, baby, just a dream. Only a dream."

"That's what I'm worried about" she said. 

*****

Beth came to stay for a week over Easter. Susan was away again, so it suited my purpose as I didn't ever want the two to meet, and seven days should be sufficient to do what I wanted. She arrived on the doorstep wearing a short blue dress and lace up sandals, a baseball hat with her pony-tail fed through the back and her sunglasses perched on the top. I opened the door and she looked up at me. 

"I'm here."

"So I see. Come in Beth."

She walked into the lounge and dropped her shoulder bag on the table, looking around the room. "Interesting house."

"Come on, I'll show you around." We walked though to the end bedroom which she would be having, its double bed pushed against the wall. I'd bought a brightly coloured bedspread which looked good in the afternoon sun slanting in through the double windows opposite, set off by a vase of daffodils on the bedside table. The room looked cosy and comfortable, but she said nothing. 

We walked down the narrow corridor, and she peered into my bedroom as we passed. "Ah, The Cockpit. Has Susan moved in yet?"

"Does it look like she has?"

She shrugged. "Who knows?"

I stopped abruptly and turned on her. "Well, she hasn't. And if you don't like it here, feel free to move out."

Beth held up her hands, palms facing me. I could see her make an effort to collect herself. "Sorry. I'm out of order. I'll try to be nice." She looked up into my face and read the anger still there, so she reached up and touched me on the shoulder. "Really. I don't know why I said that. Thanks for inviting me."

I hadn't really invited her, but being here would serve my purpose. "OK, truce." I moved further down the corridor. "Here's the bathroom - we have to share as there's only one." 

She nodded. "I'll keep my knickers on, then."

I tested her a bit. "Not on my account. I can be broad minded."

"Trust me," she said, "You're not that broad minded. I'll keep 'em on." 

We moved on, and she paused at the door to the third bedroom. "What's in here?" 

"Store room, I guess. Jim's got the key so I'm not sure what he's got in there - junk, most likely. Pity, as it means I've really only got two bedrooms." I fingered the key in my pocket. "What are your plans tonight? I've cooked a meal and there are a couple of good movies to watch."

"Lorna's picking me up in a few minutes. Girls' night out. I'll be back later."

"How much later?"

She shrugged, as if it had nothing to do with me. "When I feel like it. Don't worry, I won't rob you of the beauty sleep you need so badly. Leave me a key and I'll let myself in."

"No need. The door will be open." I had no intention of ever giving her a key. 

A few minutes later she left. I walked to the front door and watched as she drove away with Lorna in her clapped out Daihatsu, its wheels sagging and the exhaust tied on with a piece of fencing wire. The gruesome-twosome heading into town and up to no good, I thought, and I figured some poor smuck was going to get a truckload of trouble tonight. 

Back in the flat I checked through the arrangements I had made: all of the things I wanted were in place and I was ready. It all depended on her, now - she needed to be home tonight, drunk enough to help me in my plan but sober enough to do one final thing before I set it in motion. 

It was about half past one when I heard the latch click and the sound of her footsteps in the hallway. She came into the lounge, weaving slightly, surprised to see me still up. She was disheveled, her lipstick smeared a little and she carried her shoes in her hand, the heel broken off one of them. 

"Have a good evening?"

"Lorna's a fucking bitch." Her face was malevolent. 

"Really. That's very eloquent, Beth, but tell me something I don't know."

She turned on me and I could see her trying to think of something suitably cutting, but the effort was too much. She sank back into the chair. "Fuck her! And fuck you, too!" She closed her eyes. 

I went though to the kitchen and quickly heated up the milk I had ready and I tipped in the tablets I had obtained from the pharmacy. Together they contained about 15 milligrams of Docylamine Succinate, an anti-histomine agent with similar characteristics to a barbiturate. I knew its effect on her as I had offered her a similar tablet a year or two back when she was studying for her examinations and she could not sleep. On that occasion five milligrams had knocked her out for the night. This dose was three times that amount and I knew that it would have the desired effect but without danger. At worst she would wake with a hangover, dry mouth and perhaps an elevated pulse. With the alcohol she had drunk there was likely to be some disorientation as well, which would suit my purpose. 

When I came back to the lounge she was still in the chair. I thought she might be asleep and I shook her. 

"What!?"

"I've made you a drink, Beth. Take it. You'll feel like shit tomorrow if you don't."

She took it and drank, handing me the empty cup. "I'm going to sleep."

I helped her up she walked unsteadily down the hallway to her room. After a moment I heard the toilet flush and the sound of running water in the bathroom, and then her footsteps as she made her way to her room. 

The clock tower two streets away was striking three o'clock as I moved down the corridor. Her door was ajar and the bedside light was still on, and she was lying across the bed on her back, fully dressed, snoring slightly. The room was filled with the sharp, acrid odour of vomit and I noticed that she had been sick on the bed; a little had stained the top of her dress. I wondered how much of the drug was still in her system and I leaned over her and shook her lightly. If she woke I'd pretend that I she had been having a nightmare and I was concerned for her. 

"Beth, wake up." No response. Louder. "Beth. Beth. Wake up!"

She was out cold. Under her lids her eyes were slightly dilated, but her pulse was strong. I slipped my arms under her and picked her up, carrying her gently into the spare room where the mattress I had bought was on the floor next to the old radiator. I put her down carefully, slipped an athletic sweatband around her wrist and then fastened the handcuff over it, making sure that it was secure but not too tight. The other end was already around the radiator pipe where it emerged from the floorboard. She moaned and stirred briefly, but then settled back. Next to the bed I'd left the essentials she would need: a jug of water and a glass; some food, a piss-pot and a roll of toilet paper. The only illumination was from the small nightlight plugged into the wall socket, for I had covered the high window so that no light could penetrate from outside. Silence pervaded the room, with the thick old walls shielding any sounds from outside. 

Satisfied, I locked her in the room and went to catch a few hours of sleep, for I knew that later today I was going to be busy and I would need my wits about me. As I lay in bed I reflected on the list of indictable offences I could now be charged with - kidnapping, perhaps; certainly unlawful imprisonment. For a moment I wondered why I didn't just let her go and never see her again, but I knew that would never resolve the nagging worm of desire buried somewhere deep inside my brain. Despite all that had occurred I wanted to roll the clock back to the first night I had fucked her, but this time without those silly masks. I wanted to hear her cry out my name as I pumped my sperm into her slim body. I wanted her to want me, but it had to be consensual - only then would she would be the one filled with longing and I would be the one in control. And after I had had my fill of her I would decide whether to cast her aside, or not. 

The morning dawned dark and heavy, with an unseasonable chill to the air. Strong gusts of wind buffeted the house, the old roof trusses creaking and groaning in protest. A dark day for dark business, I thought, and I turned over and drifted back to sleep. 

*****

I left Beth until past midday, but I knew she was there as I could hear her muffled shouts for help from the bedroom. They ceased abruptly as I turned the lock in the door and stood in the doorway for a moment. I had pulled a black balaclava over my head and a paramilitary jacket gave me additional bulk but I knew from that angle she could only see a silhouette framed by the door. I moved quickly to the desk and switched on the desk lamp, its powerful beam pointing directly at her. 

She was sitting up, propped up against the wall and as the light struck her she shrank back, her free arm thrust up to cover her eyes. Her hair was disheveled and her face was pale. 

"Hello?" a tentative query. "David? Is that you? You fucker! Let me go!" She lowered her arm but her eyes were screwed up tight against the glare of the light, dark smudges underneath them. "This isn't funny, you bastard! Let me go."

"Be quiet!" I cut across her like a whiplash, my voice guttural and harsh. "Your brother isn't here and I'm sick of your whining!"

She stopped, and I could see her trying to look past the glare of the light to see who was there. "Who are you? Let me go!"

"I don't think so, Elizabeth. You are worth far too much for that."

"What do you mean? Where is my brother? Who are you?"

I let the silence draw out for a moment. "I've told you all this. Are you listening this time? You are no longer near your home and soon will be traveling further."

She pulled back, her face filled with fear and panic. "That's not right. I'm staying with my brother.....I arrived yesterday....."

"No. We took you from his flat."

"She shook her head in denial "that can't be right. Where am I...let me go, you fuckers!"

"Shut up!" I moved quickly from behind the desk and she shrank back as far as she could as she observed the black figure moving towards her. I squatted down near her, just out of her reach and spoke more softly.

"You are no longer home, Elizabeth. Do you understand that? We took you and you are in a large city, ready for your trip. Everything has changed in your life, and you would be advised to accept that."

"No!" she was shaking her head, her face screwed up in horror. "No, No. I'm home... I'm with David..."

"David's dead!"

Her mouth opened and she wailed, a half human sound filled with terror and despair. "Nooooo...."

"He tried to be a hero." I dropped a square of photographic paper onto her lap. "Here's your dead hero."

She picked it up, turning it so that the light fell on it. She looked at it for an instant, observing the image of my head on a pillow with wide, staring eyes and blood black and thick as tar splattered around it. I'd spent an evening taking that shot and touching it up on the computer, but she wasn't to know that. 

"Oh, God no. Not David." she clutched the image to her chest with her left arm and the chain of the handcuff rattled against the radiator as she rocked back and forth. A low wailing noise came from her mouth. 

"We'll give you Morphine for your trip. It helps you sleep but unfortunately it is habit forming. Still, that's not my problem. I have a number of clients interested in western girls, and they don't seem to mind, although Heroin is their drug of choice."

"No, let me go. I'll give you what you want!"

I thrust my face towards her and laughed. "You have nothing that I want, you slut. Do you know how much you are worth to me? Do you like to fuck, Elizabeth? That's good, because you'll fuck a hundred men a day where you are going! Work out how much that is worth to me!"

I rose to my feet, turned off the light and walked out of the room, closing and locking the door, hearing her sobbing in the dim light of the room as she held my photograph to her breast. 

Later that afternoon I came back to her. In the glare of the light I could see that she hadn't moved, although she had drunk some of the water. Her eyes were frightened but her little face was defiant. I began to dismantle her life, starting with her friends. 

"You have no friends, Elizabeth."

"Yes I do"

"No. They use you in the same way that you use the people who loved you."

"No. Lorna is my friend." 

I laughed harshly and she flinched at the sound. "Lorna thinks you are a tramp. It was Lorna who turned you in to us, who gave us the details of your sordid little life and told us where you would be. She's spending her money now, and tonight she'll be warm and safe in her bed, and you'll be here with me and the dead brother that you loved!"

"My Mother will find me."

"She thinks you've betrayed her too. You've written her a letter saying that you've sick of her clinging, fussy ways and you've moved out and she shouldn't follow you. She'll get that in a few days."

"No. Oh God, no."

"Why are you surprised, Elizabeth? Isn't it true that you've treated people like shit? Why should they care about you?"

She stared up at the light, frightened and alone, and said nothing more. 

For four days I kept it up, taking her food and water and removing her waste, watching her defiance shrink a little each day. On the last morning I went into her, watching her asleep on the mattress, her face dirty and her little blue dress filthy and wrinkled. 

The light woke her and she sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The silence stretched out, and then she spoke, her voice calm. 

"I'm not what you think I am."

"And what is that?"

"A....a slut. You called me a slut. You think I like to...sleep around." Rising in pitch. "It's not true. I'm no use to you... I've only ever been with one guy. " She turned her face up towards the light, searching for me. 

I laughed. "That would be David."

Her mouth dropped open and I could see the wind blow out of her, like a yacht suddenly becalmed on a lake. I went on. "We know all about you, Elizabeth. How you fucked him for a dare, your little tricks with Lorna and Sam. The games you play with people." I hardened my voice. "You don't give a shit about anyone but yourself, but the tables are turned. Now you'll fuck for everybody."

"No. No. It wasn't me. It was the others. I played their game, its true, but I never fucked anyone!"

"You fucked David."

She was silent for a moment. "I loved him."

"Ha! Loved him! You fucked him for a bet and then boasted about it, and then you treated him like shit! All you wanted was to have a good time with your two little whores."

"Oh no. No." She was crying, shaking her head from side to side, her thin body hunched over. Her voice rose to a scream "What do you want from me? Let me go!"

I waited until her screaming stopped, and she sat there sobbing, sucking in great breaths of air as she tried to breathe, to control herself. 

"Tell me about your brother. How could you love him and do what you did?"

She wiped her nose on the back of her arm. "I've always loved him. He was everything I ever wanted, but he had no time for me. I was always his kid sister and he thought nothing of me."

"So you decided to fuck with him."

"It was Lorna's idea. She's a bitch. I was a virgin and I wanted David so much and she found out that he was going to a costume party." The words tumbled out of her, like pus out of an abscess. "I dressed up and he didn't know it was me, and we went together. He didn't know.....how could I tell him? He would never have spoken to me again."

"And you treated him like shit."

She turned on me. "Haven't you ever loved someone and couldn't have them?! I couldn't tell him!"

"But he already knew, Elizabeth."

"No, he didn't! I know he didn't! How could he know?"

I walked over towards her and flung the pages of her journal at her. She flinched back, the pages fluttering around her. "He read that, you bitch. Think on that when you think of him!"

I left her there again, sobbing by herself in the corner. 

Twice more that day I went into that shabby little room and played the charade, listening to her growing despair, watching her body slump more and more as she spiraled downwards into a black pit of fear and misery. 

She didn't have much more to say, other than to repeat that she loved me and to insist that she had built up a shell to protect herself from the anger and scorn that she perceived I would pour on her if I learned the truth. God knows if she was being honest; by then I was sick of the whole thing, and as I watched her slender shoulders shivering with fear I was overcome with a feeling of shame. Whatever she had done to me, she didn't deserve this and I resolved to end it. 




Anonymous Lover Ch. 03



***** 

A few hours drive away, Susan was thinking of me. The promised rain had arrived, and it beat against the windows of her cabin. She resolved to come back early, to get into the car and drive home, and she would call on me in the morning. She smiled to herself in the darkness, thinking of how much she would surprise me with her news, and how much fun it would be to be together again, just the two of us. 

*****

It was early on the Wednesday when I opened the door for the last time. She was asleep, a rumpled figure in a rumpled bed, her little face pressed against the pillow, pale and vulnerable. I left the light off and squatted by the mattress with a bowl of warm water and a flannel. I unfastened the handcuff off her wrist, and I moistened the flannel and gently wiped away the tracks of her tears on her face, across her brow where the sweat had stuck the corn-coloured hair to her head. She opened her eyes, rolling on her back, and she looked into my face. 

I saw her pupils, initially dark and unfocussed in sleep, settle on me, and I watched them focus and dilate as recognition leaped into her face. She shrank back from me with a cry of fear, her hands up, fending me off. 

"It's all right, Beth." I said. "It's all over. I'm here."

"David? David, is that you?"

"Yes, its me. I'm here for you." I reached down and pulled her up, and she flung her arms around me and hugged me. 

"Where is he? Where is that man?"

"He's gone, Beth. Its just you and me."

"He told me you were dead! God Jesus, David, I thought you were dead."

I said nothing, feeling her body shake with her tears. 

"It's alright, Beth. It's all over."

I slipped my arms under her and lifted her up, carrying her though to my room, her face buried in my chest, and I laid her on the crisp white sheet. I cut away her dress with scissors, and ran the flannel over her shoulders, washing the stale vomit and sweat off the smooth creamy skin. She lay back and watched my face. 

"Where am I?"

"In my flat."

"How? How am I here?"

I laid my finger gently on her lips. "Shhh. Not now. It's all OK, Beth. Don't worry about anything, you are safe and I'm here with you. Let me wash you and then sleep for a while and I'll take you home."

I took the flannel and began to wash her down, starting with her neck and shoulders. I held up each arm, the warm soapy water caressing her skin, and then the long graceful fingers on each hand; I slid the flannel over her armpits and down across the creamy skin of her flanks, around each cup of the lacy white bra and then down across her flat belly, over her left thigh and the hard little muscles of her calf. I caressed her ankles and foot, and then back up the inside of her thigh, leaving her skin damp and shining; up, towards the tight little mound of her pussy, brushing the back of my hand briefly against the thin damp fabric of her panties, then down the other thigh - long strokes over her knee and down to her foot again.

I rolled her over gently, and she was soft and compliant. I washed her neck, watching the fine whorls of damp gold hair stick to her skin; over the flawless perfection of her back and down to the swell of her buttocks, snug in the white knickers. She shifted slightly to allow me access to the junction of her thighs and I moved the flannel gently over between them, then downwards.

I gently rolled her over and I touched her face lightly. "Sleep now, and then I'll take you home."

She said nothing, her eyes on my face, then she sat up and deftly unhooked her bra, allowing it to fall free, her eyes inviting me as she sank back to the bed. 

Her breasts were full. I caressed them with the flannel, feeling their weight and texture, full and firm. Her nipples hardened. She hooked her thumbs under the elastic of her knickers and slid them down, raising her hips off the mattress to allow them to fall fee around her legs, and then off. I brushed the flannel over the junction of her thighs, each side of her vulva, seven or eight strokes, watching her sex swell with anticipation, the labia opening slightly like a succulent flower. She opened her legs and lifted her bottom off the bed to allow me complete access, and I moved the flannel downwards, over her cunt, then down over her perineum and to her anus, lingering there, my fingers acknowledging the tight little opening through the thin wet fabric. She groaned with desire, her eyes on my face.

I pulled away, looking down on her. As God was my witness, I had not planned this, but I could not resist her. "Do you want me to stay, Beth?"

"Oh God, yes," she whispered. "I've always wanted you."

I smiled down at her. "Wanted me, or wanted me to stay?"

She stared at me. "Both. Both. Stay with me now."

I moved over to the spare side of the bed and slid in next to her, snuggling up to her back, my arm over her. She turned towards me, reaching up to touch my face, her fingers light as a feather across my brow, down to my lips. I kissed them softly and she moved them to the back of my head and pulled me gently towards her. I could see her mouth, slightly open, lips pouting upwards in invitation and the flash of her small white teeth behind them, and then we were kissing, the warm touch of her breath on my cheek and her lips soft as gossamer. I slipped my tongue between them, and she moaned into my mouth, her body arching upwards. 

"Come on," she said. "Come to me, Brother." Her hands plucked at me. 

I pulled my shirt over my head, shucking off my jeans and then my jocks. My cock was bursting, the head tight and purple as it reared out. I stared down at her, my whole body suffused with lust and desire, thinking back over the struggle of the last few months. I had dreamed of this moment a hundred times but never once had imagined that it would happen, that she would lie naked in front of me with her eyes on my face, willing me to do whatever I wanted. I climbed onto the bed, straddling her and she lifted her knees up and apart so that I had complete access. 

"Do it slowly", she said. "Slowly the first time."

Each of my senses was heightened: the taste of her mouth and the salt of her skin, the velvet touch of her flesh; the groans of desire as we prepared to couple, and the rich aroma of lust hanging heavily in the air; somehow they were magnified a hundredfold as they were transmitted to my brain. I felt as if I was spread on a rack of pleasure, every nerve ending stretched and alive and aware. And as I hesitated over her, ready to penetrate her slim body, it was as if a part of my mind had detached from me and was above the bed, and I looked down on us: she was spread-eagled, her face tilted up and her eyes shut, mouth open slightly and panting, hands clutching at my buttocks pulling me forward, her legs over my back to hold me. I could see myself too, the muscles in my legs and buttocks tensing, moving forward to lodge the end of my cock against her, then dipping a little, my head snapping back as the first inch penetrated her. 

Her eyes flew open as she felt me enter, the mouth of her puss fluttering around my shaft, bubbling and sucking, distending to accommodate me, so that the labia were drawn in and her cunt looked tight and stretched as I slid into her. She gasped, her face up into the hollow of my shoulder, and a squeal of pleasure burst from her mouth as she felt the full length. Her mouth sought me out, and we kissed with frantic lips, her hands on the back of my head and her legs tightly wound around me to keep me in. 

I watched as my cock withdrew, her pussy sucking at it, gripping the shaft as if to hold it in for as long as it could, until the distended purple head appeared out of her body with a soft slurping noise and we were joined only by a fine strand of silver lubricant. I watched as my hips moved forward again, as the head of my cock nudged against her, her lips sliding aside to welcome me, and tiny bubbles of juice bubbling around the shaft as it sank into her. I listened to the creak of the mattress springs, settling to a rhythm, and her cries of lust and passion as I fucked her in my bed, hearing her cry out my name. 

"David, Christ God, David, Fuck me, Fuck your sister!"

At that moment a vivid flash of lightening filled the room, followed almost immediately by a crash of thunder, immense and awesome, and she cried out my name again, louder. It drowned out the sound of the front door latch opening, and the sound of Susan's footsteps as she entered the house, faltering as she heard unexpected voices in the darkened house when she only expected to find me. I was oblivious to her figure as it appeared in the bedroom doorway, drawn there by the noise of our lovemaking, her hands at her mouth in shock as she saw what was happening, and heard what we said. 

"Come into me, David. Fuck your little sister and come into me!"

"I will, Beth, I will. I love you. I love fucking you."

From her vantage point she could see my buttocks thrusting at the writhing figure beneath me. See the full slide of my cock into Beth's open vagina and the glistening of our juices as we fucked. She could hear the slap of my balls as I plunged into my sister, and Beth's frantic cries as she reached up towards her orgasm. She watched as my back arched, heard my primeval cry as I buried myself deep and spurted into the wriggling girl beneath me, and she listened to my voice, gusty with desire, as I filled the hungry, gobbling little orifice beneath me. 

"Yes, God, yes, Beth. I'm filling you! I'm filling you with my juice! Take it. Take it!"

Her ears rang with the cries of my sister in orgasm, heard her cunt sucking at me loudly as it felt the burning heat of my juice inside, saw her nails raking at my back and her voice shrill.

"I feel it, David. I feel you. Fill me up!" 

She watched as the figures on the bed subsided, heard the gusty sighs of pleasure and the murmuring of voices sated. She turned quietly, tiptoeing across the corridor and through the lounge, carefully turning the latch on the front door and slipping through, closing it softly behind her and then turning away, out into the rain. She forgot in her haste that the present she had bought for me was on the sofa where she had left it. 

The cold rain lashed at her body, soaking her so that it streamed in freezing rivulets over her skin, but it did nothing to cool the scolding tears that trickled down her face as she ran, nor the burning of her loins as she thought of what she had seen. 

We slept, after our lovemaking, spooned together as lovers do. Beth slept the sleep of exhaustion, worn out after the trauma of the last few days, but her face was untroubled and sometimes a small smile curled the corners of her lips so that she looked like a young girl. I slept as if I had come home after a long journey, my arms around her like a prize possession. 

It was past lunchtime when I woke, spiraling upwards from a restful sleep. I looked over and regarded Beth: she was still asleep, breathing lightly. The plum coloured bruises under her eyes had faded and she had colour in her cheeks. She looked beautiful in the diffused light entering through the rain splattered window. I gently disengaged myself from her and padded though to the kitchen to make a big plate of toast and two mugs of tea. She woke with the rattling of the tray and she smiled at me as I walked in, still naked. 

"Well, that's a sight to gladden any girl's heart. Where's the frilly apron?"

"Don't push your luck, Buster." I set the tray down and sat next to her, running my finger lightly over her cheek. "How do you feel?"

"Good."

"We need to talk. I have to tell you what I've done."

She reached up and laid her fingers on my lips. "I think I know. I was here all the time, wasn't I?" She saw me nod, and she smiled at me. "We can talk later, when I'm ready. I don't want to do anything to lose this now."

"Right." I pulled back the covers and slipped into bed, feeling her warmth as she pushed back against me. My cock stiffened, and she wriggled as she felt the head lodge against her anus. 

"Mmmm. Shame to waste that."

"Right" I said. 

*****

Author's Note. That concludes this story - maybe I'll come back to it again as I've left a couple of hooks in there. Any ideas for future episodes would be welcome. Please also note that all characters in this story are imaginary and bear no resemblance to actual people, alive or dead. Further, I don't condone violence towards women, either mental or physical - I value them too much to even contemplate that sort of behaviour in real life. This is a work of fiction, and should be read only in that context. I hope that you have enjoyed it.